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WILLIAM L. CLEMENT's LIBRARY
Fund of the
University of Michigan Club
of Greater Philadelphia

|-
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A N N A L S
|| || || || ||
Zº -
º 2/~.
OR,
A HISTORY OF THE DO ANS.
BY H. K. B. R O O. K. E.
PHILADELPHIA.
John B. PERRY, No. 88, NonTH sºcos D. STREET.
NEW YORK, NAFIS & Co.RNish, gºs PEARL ST.




1843.
W.
SW
\\
--
-
-
Entered according to the Act of Congress, in the year 1843, by J. B.
Perry, in the Clerk's Office of the District Court in the Eastern District
of Pennsylvania. -


A N N A L S
or
T H E REVOLUTION:
P A R T I.
British aggressions—Tory anecdotes.—The spirit of
the American Revolution. — THE DoANs—Their
savage life—Gen. Washington—Moses Doan and
Gen. Howe-The Jersey campaign.-The robbery
of Mr. T. Middleton.—Gilbert Nugent and Eleazer
oan on the road to Bristol, &c.
Among the many traditions of great physical prowess
and dexterous ingenuity, incidental to our countrymen
during the Revolutionary struggle, none are more wor-
thy of record, it would seem to us, than a relation of the
ſeats, adventures, daring exploits, hazardous enter-
prises, and ingenious escapes, of a family of brothers,
natives of Bucks county, Pennsylvania, bearing the
name of Doan. The career of these men should be
recorded for the double purpose of warning and in-
struction, both of which it is in the fullest sense calcu-
lated to afford. It will be admonitory, inasmuch as by
the criminal career of these daring men the rising gene-
ration may be assured (and the conviction will not ſail
to reach the breast of every reader, we think,) that
great talents, unworthily employed, lead to disastrous
ends. It will also be usefully instructive, because, to
be explicit upon the subject, much historical informa-
tion is ºnly embodied in this compilation in order
1. (5)

6 ANNALS OF THE REVOLUTION.
to lay before the reader a clear account of these noto-
rious, misguided, and desperate men!
Exasperated by the repeated aggressions of Great
Britain, the North American colonies, after a protract-
ed forbearance, had found that their only hope was in
resistance. The government of Great Britain seemed
resolved upon enforcing their assumed right of taxing
the colonies, and there was now an equal determina-
tion on the part of America to resist the pretension.
Discussion upon the points in controversy only served
to put the parties farther asunder. A great proportion,
and perhaps a great majority of the most wealthy and
respectable in each province, was arrayed in opposition
to the ministerial claim. In Pennsylvania this was
certainly the case, though as to the extent to which the
opposition should be carried, there was doubtless a great
diversity of opinion; many sincere whigs considering
a separation from the mother country as the greatest
evil that could befall us. The merchants were on the
whig side, with few exceptions; and the lawyers, who,
from the bent of their studies, as well as from their
habit of speaking in public, were best qualified to take
a lead in the various assemblies that became necessary,
were little less unanimous in the same cause.
“The American Revolution” (if we may credit the
opinion of one who took part therein from its earliest
to its latest stage, and has left us an interesting record
of those times, in his Biography”) “originated with the
better sort; it was truly aristocratic in its commence-
ment; and as the oppression to be apprehended had
not been felt, no grounds existed for general enthu-
siasm.” “The cause of liberty, it is true, was fashion-
able,” he says, “ and there were great preparations to
* Memoirs of a Life, chiefly passed in Pennsylvania, 1811.

Tory ANECDOTES. 7
fight for it; but a zeal proportioned to the magnitude
of the question, was only to be looked for in the minds
of sagacious politicians.” - -
In Philadelphia the spirit of opposition to the arbi-
trary exactions of the mother country was warmly
manifested. Franklin, Dickinson, Rush, Reed, M'Kean,
Cadwallader, Biddle, and many that could be mentioned,
promptly took an active part at the very outset. The
disaffected to the revolutionary movement were com-
paratively few ; and among them in Philadelphia, a
certain Doctor Kearsley was pre-eminently ardent and
rash. An extremely zealous loyalist, and impetuous
in his temper, he had given much umbrage to the
whigs; and if I am not mistaken, he had been detected
in some hostile machinations. Hence he was deemed
a proper subject for the fashionable punishment of tar-
ring, feathering, and carting. He was seized at his
own door by a party of the militia, and in the attempt
to resist them, received a wound in his hand from a
bayonet. Being overpowered, he was placed in a cart
provided for the purpose, and, amidst a multitude of
boys and idlers, paraded through the streets to the tune
of the “Rogue's March.” The motley procession
made a halt in front of the old Coffee House, in Second
Street above Walnut, where the doctor, foaming with
rage and indignation, without his hat, his wig dishevel-
led and bloody from his wounded hand, stood up in the
cart and called for a bowl of punch. It was quickly
handed to him, when, so vehement was his thirst, that
he drained it of its contents before he took it from his
lips. Towards the doctor, however, the conduct of the
populace was marked by a lenity that was not in every
instance extended to tories. They agreed not to tar
and feather him, and, excepting the injury he had re-
ceived in his hand, no sort of violence was offered by

8 ANNALS OF THE REVOLUTION.
the mob to their victim. The doctor's high spirit was
deeply exasperated, and his conduct subsequently was
so outrageously anti-revolutionary, that it was thought
necessary to confine him. From the city he was soon
afterward removed to Carlisle, where he died during
the war.
A few days after the carting of Doctor Kearsley,
Isaac Hunt, an attorney, was treated in the same man-
ner. Mr. Hunt, however, instead of braving the crowd,
as the doctor did, was a pattern of meekness and
humility; and at every halt that was made, he rose
and expressed his acknowledgments to the concourse for
their forbearance and civility. After a parade of an
hour or two he was put down at his own door, unin-
jured in body, but he felt the sting of the disgrace
acutely, it is said, and to escape from ridicule moved
his family from Philadelphia to Barbadoes in the West
Indies, where he took orders.
Not long after these occurrences, Major Skene, of
the British army, ventured to show himself in Phila-
delphia. Whatever might have been his inducement
to the measure, it was deemed expedient by the newly
constituted authorities to have him arrested and secured.
A guard was accordingly placed over him at his lodg-
ings at the City Tavern. The officer to whose charge
he was especially committed, was Mr. Francis Wade,
a brewer, an Irishman of distinguished zeal in the pa-
triotic cause, and one who was supposed to possess
talents peculiarly befitting him for the task of curbing
the spirit of a haughty Briton, which Skene undoubt-
edly was. Sometime after his arrest, it was deemed
advisable by the authorities to remove him to other
quarters than the City Tavern; in consequence of
which a guard was one day sent to escort him out of
the city to the place of durance assigned him. An

SPIRIT OF THE REVOLUTION. 9
immense crowd of spectators stood before the door of
the major's quarters, and lined the street through which
he was to pass. The weather being warm, the win-
dow-sashes of his apartment were raised, and Skene,
with his bottle of wine upon the table, roared out in a
stentorian voice, singing “God save great George, our
king.” At this the crowd seemed more generally
amused than offended, and it is bona fide evidence that
the spirit of '76 was in mowise similar to the blood-
thirsty excitement which characterized the revolution-
ary movement of the French, where any such display
would have brought the head of the offender instantly
to the lamp-post or guillotine.
These and many other acts of the kind were prompted
by the spirit of honest hearts, zealous in the awakened
cause of liberty; but there are not wanting bad men in
every age and every nation, quick to avail themselves
of a good name as a convenient cloak to cover evil
deeds. Such was greatly the case during the period
of the American Revolution; and many of the best citi-
zens of our colonies were so deeply exasperated by
aggressions at the hands of some of the so-called pa-
triots, that they were disgusted, and renounced a cause
towards which they had been favourably inclined, but
now conceived it their duty to resist. These robbers,
who under a specious name effected so many ill deeds,
were known as Skinners, and they were in reality a
set of men more to be feared than the Refugees—for
they had less courage, and exercised in the commission
of their nefarious acts twice as much treachery.*
It appears that recruiting went on heavily at first,
and it was a long time before the people at large could
* Of these Skinners, Mr. Cooper, in his admirable novel enti.
tled “The Spy,” furnishes us with some interesting reminis-
Cºncos.

10 ANNALS OF THE REVOLUTION.
be brought to a just consideration of the important
step about to be taken. When once the spirit of liberty
and resistance was generally diffused, the enthusiasm
of all classes knew no bounds. Universal, however,
as this spirit eventually became, there were many who,
from principle or obstinacy, arrayed themselves in op-
position to it, and avowed themselves in favour of the
British government. These were known throughout
the contest by the cognomen of Refugees. They were
mostly men of depraved habits: men who had lost
their caste in society, and espoused the British cause
as a cloak, under cover of which to depredate upon
property,+their inclinations leading them in this man-
ner, to seek a dishonourable livelihood, rather than
a subsistence obtained by industry and integrity.
From the gallant action at Bunker's Hill on the 17th
of June, 1775, to the close of hostilities by the surren-
der of Lord Cornwallis at Yorktown on the 19th of Oc-
tober, 1781, our country was the scene of innumerable
adventures, intrigues, vicissitudes, robberies, midnight
murders, and crimes of the deepest atrocity. The un-
settled state of the country afforded to the man whose
heart was inclined to villany an ample field and full
opportunity. Deeds of unparalleled cruelty are the sure
fruits of a civil war; and where desperate men collect
in a body, as did they whose actions we are about to
record, they have it in their power to evade the pursuit
of justice, and knowing themselves to be outlawed,
conscious that the hand of every man is against them,
like Ishmael of old, they are against every man; and in
the ferocious spirit of mingled desperation and vengeance
they perpetrate, with fiendish exultation, theft, arson,
rape and murder.
About the middle of the last century, in a sequestered
and enchanting vale upon the banks of the Delaware,
-

THE DOANS-THEIR SAVAGE LIFE. 11
dwelt a man of humble degree by the name of Doan
He was industrious, and from humble circumstances
he rose to the distinction of a man of property, and
from the log hovel in which he had lived he removed
his family to a building of more spacious structure-
a building that in those days was looked upon by the
people in the neighbourhood with so much respect that
they termed it a mansion. This old gentleman was
the father of seven sons and a daughter, and was
known to be a man of excessive parental affection.
His children, as is but too frequently the case, repaid his
kindness with ingratitude; for as soon as it was in
their power to handle a rifle, one by one they left the
parental rooſ, and plunging into the forests would ab-
sent themselves for long intervals, much to the grief
of their fond parent; and would only now and then re-
turn to supply themselves with some necessary, and
then away to the woods again. Hunting was their chieſ
delight, and the passion increased as they grew up, until
at last, from rowing habits, they became so obstinately
self-willed and independent as to be altogether uncon-
trollable. While yet boys they roamed over the moun-
tains to the valley of Wyoming, then occupied by the
Shawnee and Delaware Indians—they joined the Dela-
ware tribe and ſought in their wars, and were as expert
as the “sons of the forest” in taking scalps.
At the breaking out of the Revolution the Doans had
all, but two, arrived at manhood—all had acquired the
savage kind of life first resorted to by the eldest, and
by him had they one by one been enticed from the
abode of civilization to the romantic and adventurous
existence which they now pursued.* Several causes
Of this notorious family, Watson, in his “Annals of Phila-
delphia,” remarks: “Bucks county, in this period of the Revolu-

12 ANNALS OF THE REVOLUTION.
conspired to make them take the side which they did
in the contest between Great Britain and her colonies.
They had been cheated out of their property by men
who took advantage of their slight knowledge of the
laws of their country, and when too late to procure
legal redress, they discovered the imposition that had
been practised upon them. The wild life which they
pursued estranged them from the neighbourhood in
which they were born—they were shunned by those
whose favour they wished to conciliate—taunts and
revilings were flung in their teeth—and thus, avoided,
goaded, despised, they became exasperated, and in the
depth of each Doan's heart was implanted a deep hatred
against the people among whom they had formerly re-
sided. The country was in arms—the beacon blaze
of war glowed from hill-top to hill-top throughout the
colonies—the sound of fife and drum struck upon the
ear with soul-stirring music—thousands were arming,
thousands were hastening to enroll themselves beneath
the flag of patriotism, eager for battle-resolved on
victory or death / “Liberty! Liberty! Down with
British tyranny!” was the cry. But amongst these
tion, was made conspicuous by a daring refugee family,” called
the Doans. Their numerous perilous adventures in scouring
the country for whig families, and to make their plunder on
such, brought them in great renown as bold desperadoes. There
were five brothers of them, severally fine looking men and expert
horsemen. Great rewards were offered for them, and finally
two were apprehended and executed. They were far above
ordinary robbers, being very generous and humane to all mode-
rate people. The whigs had injured them, and they sought
revenge at the hazard of their lives.” See Historica. TALEs
of The OLDEN Time, page 43. We would remark that this cha-
racter of the Doans is probably taken from a tory account of
the family; but the tradition of them handed down to us by the
whigs is in accordance with the opinion that the reader must
entertain of them after a perusal of the present work.

GENERAL WASHINGTON. 13
were not the Doans. They looked on in sullen silence.
Could they enroll themselves and fight side by side with
their oppressors, with the very men who had heaped
injury upon them 1–No, rather against them would
they battle—and they did so. They took up the Bri.
fish cause, and proved themselves the most daring, the
most bloody, the most inveterate of all the Refugees."
They were employed by the British as spies, and Ge.
neral Howe upon one occasion, in speaking of them,
was heard to remark to a brother officer who was
making inquiries in regard to them, “SIR, Those
DoANS ARE THE Most DEVIL-DARING FELLOWS THAT
ºver Lºved—the devil himself couldn't match them, I
believe /* -
The first blow of the Revolution having been struck,
Congress had appointed General Washington Com-
mander-in-chief of the American forces, and in July
1775 he took command of the troops intrenched around
Boston (14,000 in number), and proceeded to inspect
and review them. The siege of Boston continued
until the following spring. The British occupied the
town, they had strong intrenchments on Bunker's Hill,
and had ships of war. In March 1776, Washington
opened his batteries upon the enemy from Dorchester
Heights, and on the 17th of the month they evacuated
the town and sailed for Halifax. Washington and
his army then hastened to New York.
On the 4th of July of this year the Declaration of
Independence was publicly proclaimed to the people
from the door of the State House in Philadelphia, and
* By some it is asserted, that until the breaking out of the
Revolution the Doans were a quiet, harmless, and inoffensive
ſºmily; but that some act of aggression committed on them by
the whigs caused them to become the most bitter and remorse.
less "" the whigs had to contend with.

14 ANNALS OF THE REVOLUTION.
heartily received by the shouts of the concourse amid
the ringing of bells, explosion of firearms, and many
demonstrations of rejoicing.”
As we have stated, at the close of the siege of Bos-
ton, the British, under Gen. Howe, proceeded to Hali.
ſax, and the Americans, under Washington, to New
York. In New York the British interest was very
powerful, but by the exertions of the commander-in-
chief the adherents to the revolutionary cause gained
an ascendancy. Fortifications were raised in the city
and on Long Island. On the 2d of July, Gen. Howe
landed on Staten Island; and soon after, his brother,
Lord Howe, arrived with a reinforcement of 18,000
men from England. The American force consisted of
but about 9000, of whom many had no arms at all;
but new levies were daily coming in. The Americans,
though thus inferior in numbers, inexperienced, and ill
provided with artillery and ammunition, felt the justice
of their cause, and prepared to battle with the nume-
rous, disciplined, and haughty ranks that threatened
them with subjugation.
Such was the threatening attitude of the two armies,
and the British were in doubt where to commence the
attack—frequent were the consultations between Gene-
ral Howe and his officers upon the subject—when one
evening, as they assembled to discuss the matter,
information was brought that a refugee earnestly re-
quested admission and an interview with General Howe.
Howe gave orders that the necessary precautions
should be taken (such as examining him and divesting
him of any weapons that might be on his person), and
that he should be admitted. A lamp upon the centre
of the table shed a strong light upon the scarlet and
magnificent uniforms of Howe and his officers. The
table was strewed with maps, charts, and various papers,

MOSES DoAN AND GENERAL HOWE. 15
intermingled with swords, pistols, ink, pens, and other
articles. The general, as well as each officer, had
raised his eyes from a chart which he was lean-
ing over and examining with minute scrutiny. The
eyes of all were now anxiously directed towards
the door, awaiting the entrance of the Refugee. In
a moment there stood before them an athletic form
that instantly roused them to serious attention. There
was that in his herculean frame, and the startling
expression of his countenance, that could not fail to
impress a feeling of awe upon the stoutest heart. In
height he was upwards of six feet, with a broad chest
and brawny limbs; and it was at once evident, upon
a view of him, that he was a man of gigantic strength.
He had Indian-like black hair; his features were
strongly marked; and his dark, deep-seated eyes
glared from beneath heavy and shagged brows. He
was clad in a loose suit of homespun manufacture,
jacket and trousers, with no vest. He wore a shirt
that was far removed from cleanliness in its appear-
ance, and around his throat hung a red kerchief, which
contrasted strongly with the abundance of black beard
which covered his chin and throat. In short, his tout
ensemble partook much of the picturesque that is uni-
versally admired in the brigand. In his right hand he
had an ill-shaped wool-hat, which he took from his
head as he entered the presence of the British general
and his officers.
A pause of about a moment's duration took place, in
which the gaze of Howe and his council dwelt upon
the wild and singular expression of the face that
now confronted them. The stranger spoke: “General
Howe, I have made my way to your camp, because I
am faithful to my king, and I wish to serve his majesty
as much as is in the power of a man so humble as
myself.”

16 ANNALS OF THE REVOLUTION.
“Your name!” inquired General Howe.
“Moses Doan!” was the reply. “I am the foe—to
the death their foe—of the rebels who are now fighting
under George Washington against their lawful monarch,
George the Third! I have been over in the American
camp—I crossed from there to-day in a small sailboat.
Putnam is on Long Island, strongly fortified, and await-
ing the approach of the king's troops. He is in high
glee—he has all his passes securely guarded, he thinks,
and is congratulating himself upon his fancied strength.
But his rascally rebels have not done his orders effect-
ually, and a road through the hills of the utmost im-
portance is entirely neglected. If your Excellency
will take advantage of this, and promptly make a
descent upon Long Island, the rebels may be dislodged,
and victory is sure.”
This interview was extended to a considerable length;
Howe and his officers cautiously assuring themselves
of this man's sincerity in his information. When the
council broke up it had been decided to act according
to the Refugee's advice. On the evening of the 26th
of August, 1776, Generals Howe and Clinton drew off
the right wing of the English army, in order to gain
the heights. Moses Doan conducted the army, and
at about day-break they reached the neglected pass.
A detachment under Lord Percy followed, and the
}ritish advanced between the village of Brooklyn and
the hills, and gained the open country undiscovered by
the Americans. Howe and Clinton instantly attacked
the rear of the provincials, and the Hessians fell
upon them in front. By this stratagem, originating
with Doan, the Americans were completely hemmed
in, and though commanded by Washington, and fight-
ing with signal bravery as they did, neither valour nor
skill could preserve them from discomfiture; and over-

JERSEY CAMPAIGN. 17
powered by numbers they were thrown into confusion,
and fled in haste to the woods. The right wing of the
army met with a similar disastrous fate, and in order
to escape the enemy they ſled along the dike of a mill-
dam, and through a marsh, in which many of them
perished. On the 30th of August the Americans
evacuated Long Island without further loss.
After this, Moses Doan was joined by two of his
brothers, who had broken jail in Philadelphia, where
they had been sentenced to two years imprisonment.
These three were of great service to the British during
the subsequent retreat of Washington and his army
through New Jersey. Congress left Philadelphia and
went to Baltimore. The condition of the colonial
government looked gloomy indeed. Congress invested
General Washington with full power to raise forces
and appoint officers, to displace and to fill vacancies—
in fact he was intrusted with powers that were in the
fullest sense protATORIAL ; but this great and good
man was so well known—his heart, his disposition, his
integrity and his judgment were known to be so supe-
rior—that Congress was confident that he would exer-
cise it under all circumstances for the honour and glory
of his beloved country - -
General Howe, elated with his success, and of the
opinion that the Americans would give up the contest,
issued a proclamation, in which pardon was offered to
all who would lay down their arms and acknowledge
their allegiance to the sovereignty of Great Britain. A
number of the rich becoming alarmed, and anxious to
save their property from confiscation, embraced the
chance. Howe spread his troops from Brunswick to
Philadelphia; and, flushed with his success, rested in
fancied security, whilst the ever vigilant Washington,
º this, resolved to strike an unexpected blow,

18 ANNALS OF THE REVOLUTION.
and planned an attack upon the Hessians at Trenton.
On the evening of the 25th of December, he crossed
the Delaware on the ice, forced a march that night,
and came upon the Hessians so unexpectedly that they
were routed with great slaughter.
Subsequent to this success, Washington by his admi-
rable tactics baffled the British throughout the cam-
paign. During all this time the inveterate Moses Doan
and his brothers did all in their power to injure the
patriotic cause in which the oppressed Americans were
so bravely struggling. They were busy in finding out
all such farmers as were in favour of the popular side,
and plundering their houses, insulting the females of
the family with outrages of the grossest nature, and
maltreating the males to such a degree as frequently
to endanger life, and in one or two instances proceed-
ing to such extremities as actually to produce death.
As an instance of their atrocities, we will now give
the reader an account of their conduct towards the
family of Mr. Thomas Middleton, a Quaker gentleman,
living peaceably on his farm near Trenton. Doan and
his brothers, discovering that the sentiments of this old
gentleman were favourable to the Revolution, and being
told that he always kept a large sum of silver and gold
in his house, resolved to pay him a visit for the double
purpose of plundering him of his wealth and gratifying
their Tony spºrt. Soon after dark, one cold evening
in December—the ground was hard frozen and a slight
snow had fallen during the aſternoon–Moses having
represented to Col. Rawle, the commanding officer of
the British at that place, that old Mr. Middleton was a
rebel in disguise, and one that rendered them much
service, the three brothers got on horseback and set off
for the farm of the unsuspecting Mr. Middleton. On
the road they stopped at a small tavern at about a

MR. MIDDLETON. - 19
quarter of a mile from Mr. Middleton's, where were
assembled several men from the neighbourhood, farm-
ers who were good whigs, but, living under the imme-
diate eye of the king's troops, they “laid low,” as the
saying is, till things should take another turn. The
Doans, who were well known to these farmers, called
for drink and stalked their tall figures about the bar-
room with a swaggering air and insulting manner; for
they knew that two of the men present, George Justice
and Caleb Redner, were at heart whigs. Moses Doan,
taking up his glass to drink, said, “Here’s to his Ma-
jesty, George the Third, King of Great Britain and the
North American colonies,” and he added, “whoever
don’t drink this toast is a d d rebell” He and his
brothers drank, but not another in the room responded
to it. They stayed there near an hour, drinking freely,
and ere they left conducted themselves as offensively
as they could towards Justice and Redner, who were
very indignant, but refrained from quarrelling where
the odds were so much against them.
After they had left, Justice and Redner, and two or
three others, who had a suspicion that the Doans were
upon some pillaging adventure, collected two or three
others, in all about eight or nine, and followed; but it
was full an hour before they started, and they had but
two guns in the party. It was thought they might be
for plundering old Mr. Middleton, and they made across
the fields for his house. In the meantime the Doans
had reached Mr. Middleton's, dismounted and knocked
loudly at the door. The family were in bed. Old Mr.
Middleton, who slept in an apartment on the first floor,
rose and came to the door. Moses and one brother
entered, the other staying without to hold the horses.
The old man was commanded to strike a light, which
he did; and Doan said that he had come at the com-

20 ANNALS OF THE REVOLUTION.
mand of his Majesty's officers to arrest him as one
secretly engaged in aiding and abetting the rebels. The
old man protested his innocence, to which Doan replied
that for one hundred pounds paid down he would go
away and not execute his commission. This convinced
the old man that he was in the hands of men whose
rapacity would be but excited if he were to tell down
the amount demanded, and he would in the end be
plundered of all,—and knowing that his money was
concealed in a place that would not likely be discovered,
he stoutly denied having any, and said, “ Search my
house; if you find any, take it.” The Doans took him
at his word, and commenced ransacking chests, draw-
ers, and every nook and corner of the house in which
they thought it probable that gold might be secreted.
But to no purpose did they search, and their ill-luck
exasperated them. Mr. Middleton's wife and a young
woman, seventeen years of age, bound to them, had
now risen from their beds, and, filled with alarm, were
tremblingly clinging to the side of old Mr. Middleton,
asking him who those fierce men were, if they were
robbers, &c. The two Doans now commanded the
old man and his wife to show them where their money
was; and not succeeding in intimidating the worthy old
couple into their wishes, they commenced abusing them.
Moses struck Mr. Middleton a blow in the face that
knocked him prostrate, and stunned him so that he
remained insensible. Mrs. Middleton and the young
woman screamed, but a handkerchief was snatched
from the old lady's neck, with which they gagged her
and left her on the floor beside her husband. They
next dragged the terrified young woman into the bed
from which the old couple had risen, and there, in
spite of her entreaties and tears, both violated her per-
son. They had just effected this diabolical act, when

MR. MIDDLETON. 21
their brother on the outside gave warning that they
were likely to be attacked, as he had heard one or two
whistles in the rear of the house, as iſ a signal were
being given from one party to another. Moses and his
brother came out. Each mounted his horse hastily,
and dashed down the road at full speed. Three guns
were instantly fired at them; one ball passed through
the brim of Moses Doan's hat, “Fire again!” cried
Moses in a loud and contemptuous voice. “Ha! haſ
hal” he stentorously laughed. In another moment
their fleet horses had carried these fiendish brothers
beyond the reach of a gun.
It was Justice and Redner and their party that had
now come up. They entered the house, and getting a
light, raised old Mr. Middleton from the floor. He
presently recovered so that he could speak a word or
two, and he asked to be put to bed. Mrs. Middleton,
when they had ungagged her, related all that had
passed. But who shall describe the anguish of the
young girl! She told the horrid tale of her ravish-
ment, and the clenched fists and gritting teeth of those
that listened, indicated plainly how fierce was the indig-
nation with which their feelings were stirred.
This gross outrage upon the family of Mr. Middleton
was complained of to Col. Rawle, but the Doans were
of such service to the British that it was passed over as
merely one of the many evils incident to war. The
indignation which it excited was so universal, however,
that fearful of assassination, the perpetrators of the deed
kept themselves close within the British cantonments
until after the defeat of the Hessians at Trenton, when
they crossed the Delaware and joined a confederate
gang of villains and refugees who harboured in the
neighbourhood of Newtown, their former residence, in
Bucks county, Pennsylvania.
22 ANNALS OF THE REvoluTION.
These notorious Doans, seven in number, were stal.
wart, active, fearless men, every one of them six feet
high, and some of them over that. The two youngest,
though merely boys in age, were of full growth and as
ready to encounter danger as the older ones. The
saying that there is “honour among thieves,” was made
good in the unparalleled career of this family, for in no
instance was one known to betray another. Moses, the
master spirit of the whole, had so drilled them that
they had not the slightest dread of death, and sought
danger as a child seeks the excitement of its harmless
play. With gun and pistol they were as unerring in
their aim as is the Kentucky rifleman of our own times.
Their horses were of the fleetest kind, and so well
trained that it is said their riders could at any moment,
when pursued, turn off into the forest, and at a word
the sagacious creatures would remain so stock still
that not a leaf of their shelter would be ruffled.* They
were also favoured in the strong likeness which pre-
vailed among them. In the many depredations for
which they were arraigned and tried, witnesses would
be confounded, inasmuch as they would swear to the
identity of one–Levi for instance—when it would turn
* It is a tradition that upon one occasion, as one of the Doans
was riding between Philadelphia and Frankford, he observed a
British officer insulting an American female upon the road,
and, fired with indignation (refugee though he was), he prompt-
ly drew a pistol and killed the aggressor upon the spot. The
officer was but a few rods in advance of his company, and the
report of the pistol speedily brought his men in sight. Doan
at once clapped spurs to the sides of his horse and gallopped
towards the Delaware. The company coming up found their
officer dead, and at once started after the retreating Doan, who
boldly plunged into the river, with the bullets flying about his
head, and actually crossed to the Jersey shore, the width of the
river being but a little less than a mile.













:
--~~~
|
tº sº.



GILBERT NUGENT AND ELEAZER DOAN. 25
out to be Mahlon, Eleazer or Levi that had been arrest-
ed. Two brothers, Solomon and Isaac Vickars, as
desperate as themselves, were associated with them,
and the gang consisted in all of about eighteen, living
in dens and harbouring in out of the way places.
They were constantly engaged in robbery, the proceeds
of which they would conceal in their dens and after-
wards take to Philadelphia and dispose of Whilst
Moses, Aaron, and Levi were with the British in the
Jerseys, the rest of the gang kept in their old haunts,
and at this time occurred the robbery of Gilbert Nugent
on the road between Philadelphia and Bristol. Eleazer
Doan had been in the city selling some of the jewelry
that had recently been stolen from the house of a wi-
dow lady at Doylestown. Mounting his horse just at
dusk, he started from the city, and at about ten miles
on the road he overtook a market wagon coming along.
He rode alongside, and, looking under the cover, ac-
costed the farmer. From what the farmer subsequently
said in regard to the matter, the conversation that
took place and the circumstances of the affair were
as follows: - -
“Good evening,” said Doan. “Pleasant night
“Yes.”
“Been in to market, I suppose?”
“Yes, I took in some eggs and butter.”
“Did you get a good price?”
“Pretty good. The times are good. If the war
should last a few years, I know on some men in our
parts that'll make fortunes. For my part, I must say,
that in spite of all the outcry about hard times, scarcity
of money and what not, I get along just as well, if not
better, than I did before the British commenced hostili-
ties agin us.” -
Here º came up to the door of a public house, stand-
!”

26 ANNALS OF Tii E REVOLUTION.
ing by itself by the roadside. Doan asked the farmer
to go in with him and take something to drink. The
farmer complied, and, pleased with his fellow-traveller,
forgot himself, and in the course of something like an
hour and a half during which they stayed in the bar-
room, he took enough to make him tipsy. Doan asked
him how far he had to go before he reached home.
The farmer replied that he lived four miles beyond
Bristol.” Doan then told the farmer that he was going
as far as Bristol himself; he said he did not like riding
on horseback, and proposed to hitch his horse behind
the wagon, and get inside along with the farmer. To
this the unsuspecting farmer readily assented, pleased
with what he had already seen of the stranger, and
glad to have more of his company. The horse was
accordingly hitched behind, and the farmer and the
traveller got inside. The farmer, made merry by the
liquor he had imbibed, became quite loquacious, and
inquisitive withal. He asked Doan his name.
“Peterson,” was the reply.
“What was he going to Bristol for "
“To see my aunt, a rich old lady, who isn't expected
to live long,” said Doan; “indeed she hasn't any
hopes of surviving the year out herself. She sent
down to the city for me. I got her letter this after-
noon, a little before dark, and as I am her only near
relation, I concluded it best to set off at once, for she
hasn't yet made her will, and I shouldn't like the in-
fluence of other people about her at such an important
time as that, you know.'"
“Of course not,” acquiesced the farmer. “What
might your business be in the city”
* Bristol is a small town, upon the bank of the river Dela-
ware, 20 miles above Philadelphia.

Gilbert Nugent AND ELEAzER doan. 27
“I’m a ship-carpenter,” answered Doan.
“Got a family, I suppose?”
“Yes, a wiſe and four children.”
“How old mought you be tº
“I was thirty-two on the 8th of February last.”
“You’re a whig, I take it!”
“An’t you?”
“To be sure I am. I’m for liberty and equality,
as Squire Wright up in our county says when he
makes a speech. I'm agin all stamp-acts and taxations,
and don't go for supporting a King on the other side
of the water. We must fight for independence, and
then have a King of our own. That’s my mind about
the state of the country. What’s yourn, Peterson tº
“Me! I’m for anything and everything and all
things together,” said Doan. “Look out! where are
you driving to Let me have the reins.” And Doan
took the reins out of the farmer's hands. The farmer
was now bewilderedly intoxicated, and kept bobbing
his head about while he shouted forth patriotic songs.
“Have you heard anything about the Doans up in
your neighbourhood lately 7°
“Yes, d-n them, we seldom hear of anything else.
The villains keep the whole country in a constant state
of alarm. It is only about a week since they robbed a
widow lady up at Doylestown. They took two silver
watches from her, a gold one, all her silver spoons,
and a good many other valuables. I suppose you
heerd of what Moses and two on 'em did over in the
Jarseys, near Trenton, week before last?”
“What, robbing an old man and his wife?”
“Yes—and not only that, but the other—”
“The girl, you mean?”
“Yes—which is far worse than robbery. Rascals
that they are—every one of them ought to be shot—
not shot either, that would be too good for them, they

28 ANNALS OF THE REvolution.
ought to be hanged—and I should like to see a gallows
with every one of them hanging upon it in a row.”
And the farmer broke forth into a catch, singing it
in a boisterous voice: -
“Who is so strong, so strong,
As Moses, Moses Doan:
Whose arms so long, so long,
As Moses, Moses Doan:
“Who rides so fast, so well,
As Moses, Moses Doan:
Can any, can you tell,
As Moses, Moses Doan 7
“Who fights, who robs, so brave,
As Moses, Moses Doan:
Your gold you cannot save
From Moses, Moses Doan:
“He is the Briton's friend,
He is the freeman's foe;
And may, we pray, God send
To him a quick death-blow !”
As he bellowed forth this (one of the many doggreſs
of the kind that were then in vogue) he flung about
his arms, and it was with difficulty his companion could
keep him from tumbling out of the wagon. Doan drove
the horses, and the farmer getting tired of singing, be-
came overpowered by an irresistible drowsiness, and
finally sunk back fast asleep in the bottom of the wa-
gon. This was what Doan had been waiting for. He
turned off into the woods with the wagon, where he
stopped, rifled the sleeping farmer of his watch and
money, untied his own horse, mounted and rode away,
leaving the farmer to the enjoyment of his heavy slum-
bers. When the farmer awoke he found it was long
after sunrise, and his astonishment to find himself and his
horses where they were may easily be conceived. But

ARRIVAL OF LA FAYETTE. 29
how he cursed and went on when he went to pull out
his watch and found it gone! And next he discovered
his pocket-book, with over twenty pounds in it, had also
been abstracted from him.
He got his wagon out of the woods into the road as
soon as possible, and hurried on to Bristol, which was
but about three miles off. At Bristol he detailed the
whole circumstance, and asked if any person answer-
ing his description of the robber had been seen in the
neighbourhood. No one had seen any person of the
kind, and there was much merriment at the farmer's
expense. “It must have been one of the Doans,” said
a man in the crowd that gathered round the farmer.
“No,” said the farmer; “he and I talked about the
Doans as we drove along together in my wagon, I
called them a set of rascals, and he agreed with me.”
Years afterwards, as the old gentleman was strolling
through the streets of Philadelphia after having sold his
produce, he was encountered by a body of police drag-
ging along a prisoner whom on inquiry he found to be
Moses Doan; and by the glimpse he got of his person, he
was convinced that Peterson and Doan were the same.
P A R T II.
Arrival of La Fayette.—Battle of Brandywine. —
The British in Philadelphia.-The DoANs and the
SMITHs; the gang attack the house of the Smiths,
and are driven off—The daring robbery of Isaiah
Hallowell’s house in Newmarket street.—A second
expedition against the Smiths.--Anecdotes of Howe,
Clinton, Cornwallis, Robert Morris, &c.
In the spring of 1777 the gallant La Fayette came
to our shores and offered himself to Congress. He

30 ANNALS OF THE REVOLUTION.
was made a major-general in the army. Various pre-
datory excursions took place, until Howe embarked his
army on the 5th of July, and, sailing up the Chesa-
peake bay, landed at the head of Elk river. Wash-
ington marched to meet him, and on the 11th of
September occurred the battle of the Brandywine, in
which the Americans were defeated. This was the
first engagement in which the young La Fayette drew
his sword for us, and in the battle he was wounded,
but kept his position and continued to encourage his
troops until the last of the engagement. Washington,
having retreated to Philadelphia, remained there two
days, collecting his scattered troops and getting stores
together. He then proceeded towards Lancaster, whi-
ther Congress followed him. On the 26th, General
Howe and his army took peaceable possession of Phi-
ladelphia. Then followed the battle of Germantown
and the defeat of Count Donop at Red Bank. After
which, Howe and his army took up their winter quar-
ters at Philadelphia, whilst Washington took up his at
Valley Forge, 26 miles distant.
It was while the two armies were thus situated that
the Doans and their gang were most active. On the
Schuylkill, about seven miles above Philadelphia, and
just below the small village of Manayunk, there stood
in those days a mill, owned by one Thomas Smith, a
stout middle-aged man, whose house was nearby. He
had a large family, of something like eight children,_
four were sons, and, like their father, were of Hercu-
lean frames. Three of them were with the army of
Washington at Valley Forge. The youngest, but about
18 years old, though full grown, remained with the old
man. Two of the daughters were married and living
at a distance. There remained at home, in all, two
daughters, the one son, and the old man and his

THE DOANS AND THE SMITHS. 31
spouse. These young Smiths were in strength and
activity not a whit inſerior to any of the Doans, but
were men of entirely a different stamp of character.
They never sought a quarrel, but if insulted were by
no means tardy in punishing an aggressor. They
were a family of the strictest honesty, and respected
by all that knew them. The old man had brought his
sons up in such a correct manner, and they had each
turned out so well, that he was justly proud of them,
and never were sons more obedient and respectful than
the young Smiths. The Doans, during years past, had
several times come into collision with the Smiths, and
upon each occasion the Smiths had come off triumph-
ant. This exasperated the Doans, who threatened
some day to retaliate fourfold.
The two armies were in winter quarters, as we said,
and three of the Smiths at Valley Forge. One cold
day a man came into the mill and asked the old man
and his son some questions that they thought very
strange, they noticed that he spoke in a sneering kind
of tone, and his manner was certainly suspicious. It
was towards dark when he came into the mill. After
he had gone away, and it was quite dark, old Mr.
Smith told his son to go over to the tavern (nearby),
and watch his movements if he saw him there. The
young man went, and, looking in at the windows of
the bar-room, saw this man talking with the bar-keeper,
and picking his teeth as if he had just done supper.
Young Smith watched about, and saw the stranger
after a while get on horseback and ride off.
He then went into the bar-room and asked the tavern-
keeper, with whose family he was intimately acquainted,
if he knew who the man was that had been there.
The tavern-keeper said, “No ; but he seemed to know
something about you, for he asked a great many ques-
tions about you.”

32 ANNALS OF THE REVOLUTION.
“What did he ask tº
“He inquired if old Mr. Smith kept the mill down
on the river yet. I told him yes. He said he was a
relation; that he was going over to your house after he
got supper. He asked which side you had taken. I
told him the ‘right side, of course.’ He said he was
glad of that, that he should have hated to find his
uncle a “d d tory.” He also asked if any of ‘the
boys' were in the army. I told him yes; that three
of them had fought all along the war, and were now
lying with Washington at Valley Forge.”
When the tavern-keeper said this, young Smith told
how he had been over at the mill before he came to the
tavern, and that his story about his being a relation
must be all a falsehood. Whilst eating his supper in the
kitchen he had asked a good many questions of the
women too. And when young Smith and the tavern-
keeper compared notes and considered upon it, it finally
brought them to the same conclusion—that the fellow,
whoever he was, was a spy, and that no good was in-
tended by him towards the Smiths.
Young Smith returned home, and told what had
passed to his father. “It’s one of the Doans ſ” said
the old man. “We may be attacked by the whole
gang of them this very night. I see through it all.
This one has come around to spy out how strong we
are; for what else did he want to find out so much
about us tº -
“What had better be done?” said the young man.
* Get down the guns and load them first, and then
come over to the tavern after me.” The old man then
went to the tavern, and stated to the tavern-keeper his
apprehensions of an attack from the Doans, and he
and the tavern-keeper took a circuit round among the
villagers, and got several to get down their guns and

THE DOANS AND THE SMITHS. 33
go along with him. When they got back to the tavern,
they found young Smith there and two or three others.
They all went in a body down to the mill, determined
to defend the house if it should be attacked. Mrs. Smith
and her two daughters were placed in safety at the
next farm-house. The defensive party numbered about
ten, and, having closed the house, they all lay down
on chairs and on the floor, to wait the expected attack.
It had commenced snowing, and the ground was already
covered. At midnight no attack had yet been made.
It was then that half of the party left the house and
took up their station in the mill, in order, if the house
should be assailed, the party in the mill might sally
forth, and come on the attacking party suddenly, by
which movement they would most likely throw them
into confusion. -
The snow continued to fall fast, and at three o’clock
that night it was four inches thick. No attack had yet
been made on either the house or mill. Most of the
party in each place were by this time asleep, and those
that watched had come to the conclusion that nothing
of the kind would that night be attempted. At about
half past three, however, a noise like the tread of horses
was distinguished outside by some of the watching
party in the house. They at once wakened the others.
In breathless silence they awaited the attack. Presently
voices were heard outside, as if in dispute how the
attack should be commenced.
“As they expect we are unprepared for them,” whis-
pered old Mr. Smith, “they will be for breaking open
the door. As soon as they burst it I will fire. If they
then retreat, we must all rush out and shoot as many
of them as we can in the dark. The report of our
guns will bring our friends from the mill, and we can
give them chase in a body.”

34 AnNALS OF THE REvolution.
The old man had scarcely said this before a huge
log of wood was precipitated against the door, and it
flew open. The old man promptly fired. A man fell
in the door-way and groaned aloud. A confusion of
voices was heard without, and several guns were dis-
charged into the door, but none of them took effect.
The defensive party were completely sheltered in the
dark, and maintained a strict silence. In a moment
or two they heard their enemies moving off, and pre-
sently a gun was fired from the direction of the mill.
By this they knew that their friends had rushed out of
the mill, and were firing upon their enemies. The
party in the house then stepped over the dead man in
the door-way, rushed forth, joined their companions,
raised a loud shout, and gave chase to their enemies,
who had now all mounted their horses. In a moment
they were galloping off, and the miller and his friends
fired all their pieces after them. Returning to the
house, a light was procured, and the man who had
been shot was taken up. The ball had struck him to
the heart, and killed him instantly. He was a stout,
hearty fellow, apparently between thirty and forty years
of age, but his countenance was an index of a life of
sensual indulgence, brutality, and crime.
He was subsequently recognized as one of the infa-
mous band associated with the Doans and the Vickars,
and no doubt was entertained as to who had made the
attack upon the miller's house.
Shortly after this attack upon the house of the miller,
Mahlon and Eleazer Doan committed a daring robbery
upon the house of Isaiah Hallowell in New Market
street, between Vine and Callowhill street, in the city
of Philadelphia. Mr. Hallowell was a member of the
Society of Friends, and was also a strong opponent to
the Révolutionary cause. The Doans liked him well

Roperary or ISAIAH HALLOWELL. 35
enough as far as his politics were concerned, but they
had every reason to believe he had a large sum of
money in his house, and if any thing was to be gained
they never paused to consider whether it was friend or
foe that they were plundering. Isaiah Hallowell was
a man who was known to be very compassionate to
The poor, and one whose charities were extensive. The
hungry and ill-clad never went away from his doors
unrelieved. He had no children of his own. A young
lady living with him, was the niece of his wife, whom
they had taken to bring up as their own. One after-
moon a miserable looking object was seen by Isaiah's
wife seated on their steps. She raised the window and
accosted him. The man looked up with an imploring
gaze that at once appealed to the sympathy of the kind-
hearted woman. She asked him if he was hungry.
“Yes, ma'am; I’ve not tasted a mouthful since yes-
terday at dinner-time, and I’ve walked all the way
from Bristol since. My feet are so sore I can’t walk
without pain.” And he put forward his feet, which
were all bound up in dirty rags.
“Poor man!” said the good woman—“ and such
cold weather as it is, too!” Then turning to her niece,
“Harriet, go open the door, and conduct the poor man
back into the kitchen.”
“God bless you, ma'am, God bless you!” said the
beggar in a ſervent tone, as if he felt deeply grateful
for the humanity that the good Quaker lady displayed
towards him. The door was opened, and he hobbled
back into the kitchen. Harriet busied herself, and in
a few moments victuals were placed before him. He
ſell to, and ate so ravenously that the good lady had
not the slightest reason to doubt, from appearances, his
word in regard to his not having eaten a mouthful since
the day previous. She asked him many questions, all

36 ANNALS OF THE REVOLUTION.
of which he answered humbly and in a straightforward
Iºanner-
By and by the master of the house came in. His
wife and niece related to him the destitute condition of
the “poor wanderer that had been sitting on their
steps,” and of his humble and grateful manner for the
warmth that he was permitted to enjoy by the kitchen-
fire, and the meal that he had eaten. The benevolent
Isaiah, interested by this story, went back into the
kitchen.
“How does thee do, friend!”
“God bless you, sir, for interesting yourself in the
welfare of such an unworthy wretch as me! Your
wife and daughter have given me to eat and comforted
me much.”
“Truly, Rachel,” said Isaiah, turning to his wife,
“I like the manner of this wayfarer that thou hast, in
thy goodness, invited beneath our roof. Friend!”—
** Sir 7”
“Thy language betokeneth that thou art one who
hast seen better days. What vicissitudes and misfor-
tunes in life have brought thee to this destitute condi-
tion?” -
“Alas! sir, mine has been a checkered life!” And
the beggar went on to tell a tale of his history from his
birth up to the present time.
When he had finished, “Why did thee leave the
army of that arch-rebel, George Washington” asked
Isaiah.
“My conscience, sir—it was the dictate of my con-
science that made me do it.”
“Indeed!” said the benevolent Isaiah. “Truly, it
doth gladden my heart to perceive that the deluded
people of these provinces are beginning to awaken to a
sense of their crime in setting themselves forth in oppo-

ROBEERY OF ISAIAH HALLOWELL. 37
sition to the just and lawful government of the man of
Hanover, whom people style His Gracious Majesty
George III. Truly doth it please me, friend! From
the very first–yea, from the outbreak of those hot-
headed people in Boston—have I set my face against
his rebellion. Yea, and much persecution have I
been subjected to in consequence thereof. But my
persecutors will yet see that I am right and they are
wrong.” -
* That they will, sir!”
“Speak to me not, friend, by vain titles—do not call
me Sir, but speak to me by the name that I bear, even
Isaiah. Friend, give me thy hand. Thou hast seen
the error of thy ways, and I love thee because of thy
candour in acknowledging the same. I was but this
very afternoon in conversation with William Howe, the
man who commands the English forces. He seemeth
like a just and merciful man, and I heartily wish that
he was otherwise engaged than in leading men to
slaughter. He hath not a doubt, he sayeth, but that
this rebellion will be totally crushed by the coming
spring. Sincerely do I hope it may War is an abo-
mination in the sight of God!”
“So I think. I do not think we are blameless in
slaughtering our fellow-creatures under any circum-
stances.”
“Thou speakest undeniable truth, friend. And
therein how culpable be these instigators of rebellion,
who, by their wicked practices and inflammatory
writings and speeches, stir up men's passions in resist-
ance to the government of Great Britain "
Here Harriet came into the kitchen, and told Isaiah
his tea was ready. -
“Come and partake with me, friend, of those bless-
ings God hath deigned to bestow on me.”
4.

38 ANNALS OF THE REVOLUTION.
“I’ve already eat heartily, I thank you.”
“Be not ashamed—though poor and needy, thou art
not the less a being of God's creation, and we are
all the creatures of his bounty.”
The beggar was then ushered into Isaiah's parlour,
and seated at the table with him, his wife, and niece.
He drank several cups of strong tea, and made a
hearty supper, notwithstanding the ample repast upon
which he had regaled himself an hour or so previous.
“Poor man, how very hungry he must have been!”
remarked Rachel aside to her niece.
After supper they drew up their chairs to the fire,
and Isaiah took up the Bible, and commenced reading
aloud. The beggar crossed his legs and held his swad.
dled feet towards the fire, whilst he inclined his head
reverentially, and paid the most marked attention to
the words that were read. Isaiah noticed the degree
of devotion that he exhibited, and his heart warmed
more and more towards the poor man. After he had
finished reading, he addressed his guest:
“It is cold without. Thou art welcome, friend, to
tarry this night with us. A comfortable bed shall be
prepared for ſhy rest, and in the morning we will take
measures to the further mitigation of thy present un-
propitious fortunes. What sayst thou, Rachel, wife of
my heart! Shall it be so?”
“Even as thou wilt, Isaiah. The poor and the needy
are worthy of succour.”
“Yea,” continued Isaiah, “and we are commanded
in the Scriptures so to do.”
“Yea 1" chimed in the modest Harriet.
It was about nine o’clock when the good Isaiah,
being informed by his niece that a bed was ready in
the back chamber of the third story, took up a candle
and conducted the beggar to it. The beggar was very

Robºry of Isaiah HALLow ELL. 39
grateful in his expressions, and indeed he seemed to be
overpowered with a sense of the kindness bestowed
upon him. The worthy man stood beside the beggar,
who seemed quite lame, and assisted him in undressing,
and even helped him into bed. Having effected this
kind act, and seeing the poor man well covered up
under a load of blankets, quilts, and bed clothing, he
took up the light, bade him “good night,” and went
down stairs. Soon after this, they all retired for the
night. -
ºr he beggar, who was not in the least sleepy, soon
heard Isaiah snoring in the room below him. He lay
thus for about an hour and a half, when he slipped out
of bed, drew on his clothes, and groped his way very
quietly down the stairs. He moved along the entry
with a stealthy tread, and softly unfastened the front
door. He then uttered a low whistle, and a man emerged
from an opposite alley and came across the street.
“Are all asleep, are you sure ?'
* Yes—hush –come in.”
Both in the entry and the door locked, our beggar
asked the other if he had brought tinder-box and
matches. The box and matches were produced, and a
light was struck—then a candle lighted and shut up in a
dark-lantern, with all of which necessaries the confede-
rate had come prepared. They then tried the parlour
door, which was locked; and Eleazer Doan (for it was
he that had shammed himself off on the Quaker) took
from his brother Mahlon a skeleton-key and succeeded
directly in shooting back the bolt of the lock. Having
got into the parlour, they picked the lock of one of
those old-fashioned secretaries that we yet see occa-
sionally in old families; and in its secret drawers they
discovered nearly four hundred pounds, part in gold
and part in Bank of England notes. They next pos-

40 ANNALS OF THE REVOLUTION.
sessed themselves of all the silver they could find, such
as spoons, snuffers and tray, and candlesticks.
“Now, let us be off,” said Mahlon.
“Not yet,” said Eleazer.
“Why? what more do you expect to get! I’m sure
this will do pretty well for a single haul.”
“But I want the Quaker’s watch.”
“Have you seen it? Is it valuable!”
“'Tis a heavy gold one. I saw it twice this evening
when he drew it out of his ſob to look at the time.”
“But how 'll you come at it, if he keeps it under his
pillow as other people do?”
“I intend to try for it at any rate,” said Eleazer.
“Do you remain here—”
“You’d better not,” urged Mahlon.
“I’m d d if I don’t,” persisted Eleazer.
“Don't Be satisfied with what we’ve got. In try-
ing for the watch you may waken him, and if he gives
the alarm we may be nabbed.”
“I’m not afraid of that,” replied Eleazer. “Do
you only stand still where you are, and in case there's
any alarm given, do you put off and leave me to get
out of the scrape the best way I can—that’s all I ask.
I can’t make up my mind to leave this house without
that watch.”
“Well, go ahead. Be wide awake, but don’t waken
anybody, for God's sake!”
Eleazer then began cautiously to grope his way up
the stairs. He reached the door of the chamber where
Isaiah and his wife slept. He quietly raised the latch,
and entered without disturbing them. Isaiah, who was
a sound sleeper, was snoring away quite lustily. Ele-
azer got to the head of the bed, and began to search
under the pillow for the watch. The Quaker was
partly wakened by it. “Eh, what do you want, Har-

Robbery of Isaiah HALLowell. 41
ret—is it breakfast-time!” he said, and turned over in
bed. The thiefdodged down and remained breathlessly
silent. After awhile the snoring was resumed, and he
again reached his hand under the pillow. Again was
the sleeping Isaiah disturbed. He sat upright in bed.
His movements wakened his wife also. She asked him
what was the matter.
“I declare, Rachel, I thought I felt some one groping
beneath my pillow at my valuable gold watch. But it
could not have been, for here it is as safe as ever.
What strange things are dreams I declare to thee,
Rachel, it seems as if I did feel the hand under my
pillow as certainly as I now place my hand upon thy
arm ſº
“It could be but a dream,” replied his wife. “Lay
thy head upon thy pillow again, and replace the cover-
ing, for I am chilled.” -
The worthy couple again addressed themselves to
their slumbers; and after awhile the thief knew, by
Isaiah's loud snoring and his wife's heavy breathing,
that they were both once more sound asleep. Again
did he insert his hand under the pillow; and this time
he secured the watch, and effected it without arousing
the Quaker. He then went on tiptoe out of the cham-
ber and down to his companion in the entry. They
chuckled over their success and then left the house.
On the following morning, Isaiah, upon putting his
hand under his pillow to get his watch, found it gone.
“It was no dream then I’’ he exclaimed; “there was a
hand under my head last night!” He bounced out of
bed, and, as quick as thought, ran up stairs to the room
where he had parted with the beggar. The bed was
empty. He flew down to his chamber again, and
Rachel prevailed upon him to dress himself. When
dressed and down stairs, he was rendered half-crazy to
4 *

42 ANNALS OF THE REVOLUTION.
find his secretary broken open and his gold and Bank
of England notes abstracted. He raised the alarm and
had the police in quest of the robber; but it was not until
years after that the dying confession of one of the bro-
thers informed the old gentleman who were the plum-
derers.
Gen. Howe, while wintering at Philadelphia, employ.
ed a large number of his men in endeavouring to free
the Delaware of the chevaux-de-frise and spikes which
had been run across it below the city, and he occa-
sionally sent out foraging and predatory parties to scour
the neighbouring country. These parties pillaged and
harassed the farmers, but did material injury to their
own cause. In these expeditions the Doans were gene-
rally at the head, conducting the pillagers to such places
as were most likely to recompense them for the trouble
to which they put themselves.
Moses and five of his brothers, with Solomon and
Isaac Vickars and three others of the gang, rode into
Philadelphia the day before Christmas, and Moses got
off his horse before the head quarters of General Howe,
in Market street near Sixth.* Levi Doan held his bro-
ther's horse, and the rest rode on, to the neighbourhood
of South and Front, where they put up. Moses was
admitted to an interview with General Howe, and in
less an hour he came out and remounted his horse. In
answer to a question from his brother, he said, “Yes;
I’ve got his written order, and we may take twenty-five
Hessians along with us if we choose. I think, though,
we’re strong enough handed as we are, and we had
better do without them. Don't you think so?” Levi
replied in the affirmative. Moses showed the written
order to the others of the party, and asked them if they
thought the assistance of the Hessians was needed.
* The house in which Washington afterwards lived.

SECOND ATTACR UPON THE SMITHS. 43
They all, with one voice, said No “Then don't
drink much, and hold yourselves in readiness to set
out at dark,” said he. -
Soon after dark, these eleven men each got into his
saddle, and they rode out of Vernon street (where the
stables were) in a body. They walked their horses
leisurely till they reached Sixth and Market streets,
which was in those days the outskirts of the city.
They then put their horses into a gallop, and soon
reached the ferry on the Schuylkill, having crossed
which, they again started at a rapid pace and rode
hard for about five miles on the Lancaster road. It
was but about seven o’clock in the evening when they
halted at what was then called the Five Mile House.
They called for drink and swaggered around the bar-
room. There was a young fellow getting a drink at
the bar, who Moses thought eyed his party with rather
a suspicious scrutiny. This young fellow shortly after
called for his horse, mounted and rode off. Moses
watched him, and seeing that he took a direction
towards the city, he seemed at ease. He asked the
man of the tavern if he knew who the young fellow
was that had just left. The man said that he didn't
know for certain, but he believed it was Smith, and
that it was one of a family who had lately moved
about four miles above. “By G–!” exclaimed Moses
aside to his gang, “it’s one of them. He knows us,
too. Did you see how he eyed us! I thought I knew
the face, but I wasn’t certain. He started off towards
the city, though.”
“A sham, I’ll bet anything,” remarked one of the
brothers of Moses. “He’ll take some by-road and get
home in time to raise a party to welcome us. They
know that we're determined on revenge, and they keep
a bright lookout.”

44 ANNALS OF THE REVOLUTION.
We will here state to the reader that the Doans,
highly exasperated by their repulse in the attack upon
the house of the Smiths, had sworn terrible vengeance,
and given out that when they again attempted it they
would make sure work. Old Mr. Smith, aware of
their desperate characters, had not a doubt that they
would endeavour to make good their word. Fearful
of being murdered by them, he obtained the permission
of Washington to have his three sons with him awhile
for protection. The sons came, but wishing to be with
the army, they prevailed upon their father to move from
Manayunk to a farm that he had about nine miles over
the Schuylkill from the Market street ferry, where he
would be at a greater distance from the Doans. The
Doans presently got wind of this removal, and knowing
that the three brothers were yet with their father, they
resolved to make the attack at once. For this purpose
they came into the city the day before Christmas, and
as they had made up their minds to make a bloody
business of it, they concluded it best to proceed under
a show of authority. With this object, Moses Doan
had the interview with General Howe, to whom he
represented something very unfavourable to the Smiths,
and in this way obtained the written order for the
expedition. -
The young man noticed by Moses in the bar-room
of the Five Mile House was one of the young Smiths
who had been with the army at Valley Forge. Upon
the night we are treating of he was going into the city,
and accidentally stopped at the Five Mile House to get
something to drink. He at once recognized the party
of the Doans, and knew well enough that they medi-
tated an attack upon his father's house that night. He
also detected the eyes of Moses watching him, and he
assumed as nonchalant a manner as possible. He
-_-
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46 ANNALs of The Revolution.
pretended to be in a measure stupidly half-drunk. He
knew, too, that if he rode off towards home, he would
be speedily followed and overtaken by the fleet horses
of the Doans. So, when he got into the saddle, he
struck off towards the city for half a mile, when he
came to a by-road, into which he turned, and, spurring
his horse forward, he rode at the utmost speed to which
he could attain. He reached the house—gave the
alarm—and his father and brothers were directly
armed. The mother and sisters escaped to a house a
quarter of a mile off, when a light was placed in the
front room down stairs and left burning. The father
and his four sons, each with a gun, then crossed the
road and concealed themselves behind some bushes
growing along the fence. Here they had remained
something like half an hour, when they heard the Doan
party approaching. The whole eleven rode up in a
body, and halted in the road within a few feet of the
concealed Smiths. Moses, who led the party, remarked
that the light burning in the room looked rather suspi-
cious. He dismounted and went forward on foot to
reconnoitre. He approached the house, passed through
the gate, and peered through a window into the room.
He then examined round the outside of the house, but
could see or hear no one. Returning to his men, he
directed them all to dismount and hitch their horses to
the fence. This they did. He then ordered several
to make a circuit round the farm, while he and three
of his brothers would enter the house. This movement
was accordingly made. Moses and his three brothers
approached the house, and looked into the room where
the light was burning. At this moment two guns were
discharged from behind the bushes at them. The shot
took effect, for a loud cry was uttered by Moses Doan,
and he fell. The Smiths now retreated as fast as pos-
sible, running in a stooping posture along the fence,

-
-
EDGE IIILL SKIRMISH. 47
behind the bushes, till they came to a small creek, the
course of which they followed till they considered them-
selves in safety, when they halted.
The report of firearms, and the cry of Moses Doan,
brought all the party quickly upon the spot. Moses was
wounded in the shoulder, but not mortally. He gave
orders for his companions to enter the house, plunder
it, and set it on fire. While some were executing this
order, others had brought out a light wagon of the
Smiths, and the bottom being thickly covered with
straw, Moses Doan was lifted into it. The house was
speedily rifled and set on fire. The Doans then left,
dragging along with them the vehicle that contained
their wounded leader. -
Six weeks elapsed before Moses Doan was sufficiently
recovered to resume the daring adventures in which his
spirit delighted. Bitter–bitter were the feelings en-
tertained by him and his brothers against the Smiths.
Though so often and so signally baffled in their plans
of vengeance, their spirit of animosity was only the
more intense, and the more burning was their desire
of revenge! In fact it galled them to the quick, for
it was a common saying about the city and the country
that “a Smith is too much for a Doan I’”
Just before this had occurred the Edge Hill skirmish,
of which we are enabled to give the following interesting
anecdote. Gen. Howe all along entertained a hope of
surprising Washington and his army by some skilful
manoeuvre; and with this object in view he kept the
Doans constantly on the lookout to furnish him with
information if any opportunity should present. About
the first of December, Moses Doan had an interview
with Howe and Lord Cornwallis, in which he said that
the Americans might be attacked and completely routed
if certain measures were adopted. Howe agreed to un-
dertake it according to Doan's plan, and had the whole

48 ANNALS OF TILE IREVOLUTION.
written out and distributed among his officers. One of
these officers—the adjutant-general of the British army
—occupied a chamber in the house of William Dar-
rach, a schoolmaster, living at the corner of Little
Dock and Second streets. With this plan of the pre-
meditated attack in his pocket, he returned home late
one night from the Old Theatre in South street. Major
Andre and another accompanied him. The adjutant
let himself and companions into the house by his night-
key, and, having reached his chamber, they sat down
to drink some wine. Andre and the other officer were
not yet aware of the intended attack upon the army at
Whitemarsh, and the adjutant taking the plan from his
pocket, showed it to them and detailed the whole. Tak-
ing it for granted that the family were all fast locked
in sleep at that late hour, the adjutant thus unwarily
spoke aloud. As it happened, Mrs. Lydia Darrach, the
wife of the schoolmaster, was lying awake and over-
heard the whole conversation. She and her husband
were both friendly to the Patriotic cause. In the morn-
ing she told her husband what she had heard. The
honest schoolmaster was deeply worried, for he was
anxious to give the Americans intelligence of the con-
templated attack, and yet he could think of no means
by which to communicate it to them. The wiſe thought
of an expedient, and early after breakfast, upon a pre-
text of going out to Frankford for flour, she obtained a
pass, and set forth. She met Col. Craig, to whom she
disclosed the plot. Col. Craig instantly repaired to
the camp of Washington, and the general at once took
measures to guard himself against the attack. At the
following midnight, the British army slowly and noise-
lessly glided out of the city, eager to surprise the
“d—d Yankees,” and rout them completely. But
they “reckoned without their host,” as the proverb has
it, for they ſound Washington ready to receive them,

Evacuation of PHILADELPHIA. , 49
and it ended in the “Edge Hill skirmish,” as it was
called, which occurred on the 5th of December. The
British returned wearied and chagrined to the city, to
the no small satisfaction of all “good whigs.”
Mrs. Darrach, though by no means a hale and hearty
woman, walked the whole distance out to Frankford
and back again, carrying with her on her return, to
save appearances, a bag of flour. It is said the adju-
tant had strong suspicions of how Washington obtained
his information of the designed attack; but he could
not be certain of Mrs. Darrach's participation in it, and
was consequently necessitated to grin and bear a spite
that he could not revenge. Mr. Darrach and his intre-
pid wife were both of the Society of Friends.”
The capture of General Burgoyne at Saratoga by
the brilliant success of General Horatio Gates, revived
the drooping hopes of the Americans, and inspired
them with a lively determination to prosecute the
struggle for Independence. In the spring of the ſol-
lowing year (1778), Howe received orders from the
British ministry to evacuate Philadelphia, -ſor they
feared that iſ a French fleet should blockade the
squadron in the Delaware, whilst Washington sur-
rounded him by land, he would meet with a disastrous
fate, similar to that which had befallen Burgoyne. On
the 18th of June, the British army departed from Phi-
ladelphia, followed closely by Washington, who kept a
strict watch upon their movements, and harassed them
upon the rear of their march.
In this place it may not be improper to furnish the
reader with a few interesting reminiscences of the
British while wintered in Philadelphia; records and
traditions that the dignity of history passes over, but
* See “Historic Tales of the Olden Time,” page 294.
5 -

50 ANNALS OF THE REVOLUTION.
which fill up the picture of that important crisis, like
the lights and shadows that are necessary upon a pic-
ture to make a finished painting. Nor will any of
our readers, we feel sure, for a moment consider them
out of place in a work like the present. For our
information upon these matters, we are altogether
indebted to that invaluable work from the pen of Mr.
Watson, “THE ANNALs of Philadelphia.”
General William Howe was a man of tall stature,
of rather handsome countenance, and of polite and
amiable manners. He was fond of company, and at
his house in Market street, the first door below Sixth
(south side), he gave frequent dinner-parties. He
visited his officers frequently at their respective resi-
dences, and was anxious to make the acquaintance of
all the opulent families in the city. He rode much
about the town in Mrs. Powell's carriage, which he
seized for his own use, and by his urbanity he gained
the good will of many who had hitherto felt hostile to
himself and the cause he supported.
Lord Howe, his brother, who commanded the British
fleet, was a man of shorter stature, and not so well
favoured in physiognomical appearance. He resided
in Chesnut street, between Fourth and Fifth, in the
house that is now the Farmers’ and Mechanics' Bank.
Lord Cornwallis lived in South Second street, above
Spruce, in the house that was for many years since
occupied by David Lewis, Esq. Mr. Lewis died some
three or four years ago, and the house is at present
tenanted by a Quaker family. It is the one with a
projection over the door, and number 146.
The city was unusually gay while the British offi-
cers remained in it, for traditions inform us that balls
and parties succeeded night after night in a constant
round; and though many of the younger officers were
shockingly dissipated in the eyes of our staid and sober

ANECDOTES. 51
citizens, it is but justice to say that as a body they
exhibited but little assumption, compared with what
might have been expected under the circumstances.
In all of these pleasures, the two Howes, Cornwallis,
Sir Henry Clinton, General Kniphausen, Major Andre,
Captain Delancy, Gen. Grant, and the others, joined.
Major Andre and Captain Delancy took the lead in
such dramatic entertainments as were got up at the Old
Theatre in South street above Fourth (now a distillery).
Major Andre assisted in painting scenes, and a drop-
curtain painted by him was for years afterwards in use.
Among the stanchest tories of those days was a Mr.
Marmaduke Wharton (Duke Wharton, as he was styled
in derision by the whigs); and at his country-seat in
Southwark was given the celebrated “Meschianza”
entertainment. If all accounts be correct, it was a
splendid affair; and many belles of whig families
graced the fete by being present in all the charms of
youth and beauty. These families, though good whigs
at heart, partook of the amusements on this occasion,
“not for the love of the English,” they said, “but
merely for the fun of the thing.” Notwithstanding
this excuse, they met with much odium in conse-
quence,—and deservedly, we think.
Robert Morris, the distinguished financier, though
universally mild and forgiving in his nature, was so
chagrined because some of his intimate relations took
a part therein, that from that day till his death he
would never associate with them upon the terms that
usually exist in families nearly connected. He could
not reconcile it with his sense of propriety, he said,
that Americans could join in the dancing and revelry
of our enemies “while the army at Valley Forge was
suffering the privations of ill food and ragged clothing,
and tracking the frozen ground with the blood of their
bare feet.”
52 ANNALS or ºrie Revolution.
P A R T I I I.
The victory at Monmouth-The DoANs active in the
dreadful massacre of Wyoming—PuTNAM’s feat at
Horse Neck-The taking of Stony Point—John
Paul Jones's desperate engagement with two British
ships off the coast of England.—Revolting atroci-
ties of the DoANs near Elizabethtown, N.J.-Mur-
der of Mrs. Caldwell.—Robberies, arsons, &c.—
Robbery of Mr. Van Tienck and violation of his
daughters.- Battle of Springfield.- The DoANs
and their gang, with Fory Joe, leave Staten Island
and return to Bucks county.—S300,000 raised in
Philadelphia for the American army.-Treason
of Arnold and death of Andre.—Joseph Doan the
younger passes himself off as Lord Rawdon, &c.
THE glorious victory at Monmouth, N. J., soon fol-
lowed the evacuation of Philadelphia by the British,
and Congress returned thanks to Washington and his
army, whilst the people throughout the United States
celebrated it by bonfires and rejoicings from Maine to
Georgia.
In July, aid from the French appeared off the mouth
of the Delaware, in a fleet of twelve ships of the line
and three frigates, under the command of Count d'Es-
taing. Lord Howe had sailed to New York, whither
D'Estaing now followed.
In the meantime was enacted that dreadſul massacre
at Wyoming, the details of which are beyond descrip-
tion awful. The testimonies of historians and travellers
concur in describing the infant colony as one of the hap-
piest spots of human existence, for the hospitable and
innocent manners of the inhabitants, the beauty of the
country, and the luxuriant fertility of the soil and cli-
mate. In an evil hour, the junction of the European








MASSACRE OF Wyoming. 53
with Indian arms, converted this terrestrial paradise
into a frightful waste. Mr. Weld, the traveller, informs
us, that the ruins of many of the villages, perforated
with balls, and bearing marks of conflagration, were
still preserved by the recent inhabitants, when he tra-
velled through America in 1796. In the desolation of
Wyoming and the massacre of its unoffending inhabit-
ants, none were more active than three of the Doans."
The valley of Wyoming contained nearly a thou-
sand people. It was then on the frontiers, and had
frequently been harassed with incursions of the Indians.
The feelings of the settlers were averse to the interest of
the British, but the valley was surrounded with tories,
who, to curry favour with the English, had sought
every occasion they possibly could to misrepresent and
traduce the peaceful dwellers in Wyoming. Frugal
and industrious, the people of this valley were con-
nected by the strongest ties of love and fellowship, and
a common danger that threatened them led them to
erect forts and defences against the Indians. Moses
Doan, as far back as the beginning of the winter of
1777, had solicited General Howe to send out a force
and conquer the valley; but Howe, from some cause
or other, never countenanced the project. But, un-
known to Howe, Doan and his brothers put matters
into such a train, by communicating with the Indians,
that they had not a doubt of ultimately accomplishing
their bloody purpose.
In the summer of 1778, after the army quitted Phi-
ladelphia, Moses, Aaron, and Mahlon Doan repaired
to the valley of Wyoming, whilst the other brothers
followed the British towards New York. Moses and
his two brothers left Wyoming, after arranging their
plans with the tories in that neighbourhood, and went
west among the Indians. Communications were quietly
5 *
54 ANNALS OF THE REVOLUTION.
carried on for awhile between the Doans, Brandt, and
Colonel John Butler, which resulted in their surprising
the settlement, capturing the forts, and rendering the
valley a horrid scene of carnage, misery, and ruin.
The Doans, with exultation more savage than that of
their Indian allies, were foremost in the work of
slaughter—sparing neither men, women, nor child-
ren—alike deaſ to the groans of the sick, the entrea-
ties of the wife, the shrieks of the virgin, the anguish
of the mother, and the tears of childhood! Weary
with the work of butchery, these hell-hounds, satiated
with the blood of innocence and reeking in gore,
paused; upon which Butler and Brandt ordered that
all the inhabitants yet alive, should be shut up in the
houses and barracks, and the buildings set on fire.
This was done, and the savages of the forest danced
war-dances and shrieked their war-whoops as they
revelled over the agony of their victims perishing in
the flames. The surrounding country was then de-
vastated with fire and sword; helpless people were
driven from their homes, flying in all directions,
without money, clothes, or food, from the stroke of
the fatal tomahawk. -
Butler, Brandt, the Doans, and a large force of In-
dians and refugees, tracked these helpless wanderers,
hunting them like game, and slaying them without
the least remorse It was not until some continental
troops approached the valley, that these merciless in-
waders were expelled from the country that they had
thus laid waste. Nor did any thing throughout the
whole war of independence more exasperate the Ame-
ricans against the British, than that they should have
connived at this unparalleled work of treachery and
murder.
The principal operations of the war were now trans-
ferred to the Southern States. After doing much da-









TAKING OF STONY PoinT. 55
mage in the state of Virginia, the marauders returned
to New York, laden with plunder. The campaign of
1779 was distinguished by Putnam's feat at Horse
Neck, and the taking of Stony Point by Gen. Wayne.
Putnam was stationed at Reading in Connecticut, and
going out one day with about a hundred men to visit
his outpost at Horse Neck, he was suddenly attacked
by Governor Tryon with a body of more than a thou-
sand. Putnam had two field-pieces with him, and
with these he managed to retard the advance of the
enemy for some time. Perceiving their intention to
charge with infantry and cavalry, he commanded his
men to retreat into a swamp in the vicinity, to do which
they must scramble at an imminent risk, down a steep
precipice of nearly a hundred stone steps that were
there for the convenience of foot-passengers. Down
this precipice did the gallant Putnam plunge himself on
horseback, and before the dragoons of the enemy, who
dared not follow him, could ride round the hill, he was
beyond their reach. They sent a shower of bullets aſ:
ter him, but he escaped unwounded.
The British had strongly garrisoned Stony Point,
and on the 15th of July, Washington sent General
Wayne with a small force to surprise them. This
was a bold and desperate undertaking, but Wayne,
with his usual intrepidity, told the commander-in-chief,
that he would “go at it as readily as he would sit down
to his dinner.” After a stout defence on the part of
the British, the fort was carried by storm, and the gar-
rison of more than five hundred taken prisoners; six-
ty-three were killed, and the guns and stores ſell into
the hands of the Americans. This was perhaps one
of the most brilliant achievements throughout the war,
and it gave great joy to the people of the colonies.
This year was rendered memorable in the annals of
the American navy by the signal victory of Paul Jones

56 ANNALS OF THE REVOLUTION.
over the British in his celebrated engagement of the
coast of England on the 23d of September. The de-
tails of this battle exceed anything upon record for the
intrepidity and energy with which it was effected.
Jones was a native of Scotland, the son of a gardener
by the name of Paul, to which name our hero, who emi-
grated to the state of Virginia, appended that of Jones.
Having at an early age become inured to the hard-
ships of a seafaring life, he grew up a perfect seaman,
and soon had the command of a vessel in the West In-
dia trade. At the breaking out of the Revolution he
espoused the popular cause, and was appointed to the
command of the Providence of 12 guns and 70 men,
in which he cruised so successfully as to make sixteen
prizes. He was the first naval commander that sailed out
of the Delaware with the stars and stripes streaming
from his mast-head. He was ordered by Congress, in
May, 1777, to sail for France and arrange certain
naval operations with the American Commissioners at
Paris. On the 10th of April, 1778, he sailed in the
Ranger, and making a descent upon the coast of Scot-
land, he alarmed the whole country, landed at White-
haven, and captured two forts and thirty pieces of ord-
nance. He also carried off the plate from the mansion
of the Earl of Selkirk, at St. Mary’s Island, but this he
subsequently restored. Having captured several prizes,
he returned to Brest with something like two hundred
prisoners. August 14th, 1779, he sailed again with a
squadron of seven sail. Having cruised successfully
off the coast of Ireland for awhile, and afterwards
sailed with the Pallas, of 32 guns, and the Vengeance
of 16, to the coast of Scotland again, engaged with
several armed vessels in the very sight of the port of
Leith, and after threatening to lay the town under con-
tribution, which he was only prevented from ſulfilling

BON HOMME RICHARD AND SERAPIs. 57
by the intervention of a violent storm, he again put to
Sea.
A few days after this he fought his famous battle
with the Serapis. The Serapis was a new ship of 44
guns, and had a picked crew. In every respect she
was superior to Jones's own ship, the Bon Homme
Richard. This desperate engagement took place off
Flamborough Head—the action commencing at about
7 o’clock in the evening, of a moonlight night, and was
witnessed by thousands of spectators assembled on the
shore. It raged with unabated fury, till the bowsprit of
the Serapis coming over the poop of the Bon Homme
Richard, she swung round so as to lay alongside the
other, the stern of the one close to the bow of the other.
Jones himself seized the ropes that hung from the bow-
sprit, and made them fast to his ownship. The battle was
then resumed with increased desperation, and continued
until half past ten o’clock, when the mainmast of the
Serapis going by the board, they struck their colours.
While the action between the Bon Homme Richard and
the Serapis was going on, the American frigate Alliance,
36 guns, frequently sailed round the Serapis, and poured
in a raking fire, both fore and aſt; but as they were close
alongside each other, her fire frequently did execution on
board the Bon Homme Richard, eleven of whose men
and an officer were killed by one of her broadsides. At
the same time, in company, the English ship Countess
of Scarborough engaged the French frigate Pallas, and
after two hours action struck her colours and was
made a prize of The Serapis had 54 killed and 75
wounded. The Bon Homme Richard was actually in
a sinking state when the engagement was concluded;
and there was scarcely time to take out the wounded
before she went down.” -
* Jones was afterwards honoured with great marks of favour

58 ANNALS OF THE REvoluTION.
In the meantime the war was prosecuted with various
success in the Southern States. Gates commanded the
American forces, and Lord Cornwallis the enemy;
whilst Washington was compelled to limit himself to
the tedious and inglorious duty of reposing at Morris-
town, N. J., keeping a strict surveillance upon the
motions of the British on New York Island, and
restraining their depredatory incursions into the adja-
cent country. Upon these marauding expeditions, none
were so active as the Doans. Those of this family that
left Philadelphia with the British army, were, shortly
after the massacre of Wyoming, joined by their bro-
thers Moses, Aaron, and Mahlon. One of the Vickars
was also with them, and several of the Bucks county
ang. -
g Early in June 1780, General Kniphausen, com-
manding at New York in the absence of Sir Henry
Clinton, incited to a depredatory expedition by the
Doans, left Staten Island with a force of five thousand
and entered Elizabethtown, N.J.-from thence they
proceeded five miles to the Connecticut Farms, where
they burnt twelve houses, together with the Presbyte-
rian meeting. But the most dastardly act was the
assassination of Mrs. Caldwell, wife of the Rev. James
Caldwell, pastor of the Presbyterian congregation.
Whilst sitting in her house, surrounded by her child-
ren, one of the Doans wantonly fired at her through
the open window, and she fell back from her chair
instantly dead.*
by Congress. After the peace, he went into the Russian ser-
vice, but soon left in consequence of some misunderstanding.
He died in Paris in 1792.
* On November 24th of the following year (1781), Mr. Cald-
well was himself shot in mistake by an American sentinel at
Elizabethtown Point. They left nine children in a distressed
and helpless situation.

ROBBERY OF MIR. WAN TIENCK. 59
It was on the 7th of June that Mrs. Caldwell was
thus inhumanly killed; and that night, after the British
had pitched their tents, the Doans and a party of Hes-
sians left the camp, sallied forth into the surrounding
country, and, guided by some refugees of that neigh-
bourhood, attacked the houses of various farmers, plun-
dering them of all their valuables, insulting and violating
helpless women, and setting fire to houses, barns, and
hayricks. The flames of these blazing houses were
seen by the citizens of Newark and for miles around
the country.
On the following night they committed a revolting
outrage upon the family of Mr. Van Tienck, who kept
a public house on the road between Elizabethtown and
Newark. Mr. Van Tienck was a widower, with three
of his daughters living with him. His eldest daughter
was a married woman, but had separated from her hus-
band in consequence of his ill-treatment and neglect to
support her. The husband of this young woman was
one of the most notorious refugees to be found in Essex
county. He had twice been left by his wife, and upon
his promise of reformation she had been induced each
time to live with him again. But he relapsed into his
idle and dissipated habits in a very short time after
each reconciliation, and as she found it was utterly
useless to expect him to amend, she went home to her
father's for the third time, resolved to be cajoled by
him no more. Mr. Van Tienck was much liked as a
landlord, and his house was the stopping-place that
persons in the habit of travelling that road invariably
preferred. He had one of the largest farms in the
county attached to his house, of which he was the
owner, and was considered a rich man. He was also
an active whig, doing all in his power to further the
cause. Joseph Condit, or Fory Joe, as he was gene-
rally called, in consequence of the bushiness of his
60 ANNALs of THE REvolution.
hair and the cunning and villanous expression of his
countenance, hated his father-in-law bitterly, and fre-
quently had been heard to threaten the life of the old
man for “keeping his wiſe away from him.” Of the
refugees who conducted the forces of Gen. Kniphausen
through the county, he was as ready as any to point
out such families as sided with the whigs, –for he
could in this way glut his vengeance upon persons
who knew what a rascal he was and heartily despised
him. In the Doans he found a kindred spirit. Hav-
ing concocted a plot with them, on the night of the 8th
of June it was carried into effect.
Just before dark that evening, two plain-looking, and
apparently tired travellers, got off their horses at Mr.
Van Tienck's, and desired to be ſurnished with supper
and accommodated with lodging for the night. Mr.
Van Tienck, after scanning them awhile (for the times
made people suspicious of each other), was upon the
point of refusing lodgings to them; but, upon consulting
Mrs. Condit, he said that they could be accommodated
for the night. The travellers entered freely and re-
spectfully into conversation, representing themselves
as on their way from Philadelphia to New York; they
said they were on business of a private nature, but
what it was they did not feel themselves bound to tell
anybody; that in the morning they should push on to
New York; and “if you are paid your bill, sir, it is
all that you wish of us, we presume *
Mr. Van Tienck assented to this, and said, “Of
course you are to me no more than others that I
accommodate; and be you whigs or tories I know not,
and have no right to question you.”
The murder of Mrs. Caldwell was talked over, and
other topics were discussed by the two travellers and
Mr. Van Tienck, till bedtime, when the travellers retired
to their chamber, and shortly after the whole household

















Robbery of Mr. VAN TIENCK. 61
sought the repose of slumber. A while before midnight
a loud knocking at the door aroused Mr. Van Tienck
from his pillow. He raised his chamber window and
looked out, when he saw a man who begged of him to
dress and arm himself, and rouse up any travellers
that he might have. Mr. Van Tienck asked why. The
man said, “Don’t you see!—there’s the widow Sock-
well's house in flames, and the refugees have offered
violence to the women, for we heard them shriek as far
as Owen Sayre's. Come over to Owen's with me, and
let’s see what’s to be done.”
Mr. Van Tienck awakened his lodgers, and told
them what was the matter, and pointed through the win-
dow to the burning house.
“But are you sure the house was fired by the reſu-
gees” asked one of the travellers. “These are dan-
gerous times, and if merely the three or four of us
should interfere with a strong party of them, they
would shoot us down like dogs. May-be the house has
accidentally caught fire!”
“No,” replied Mr. Van Tienek, “here is a man
down at the door brings the word.”
“Have you any guns!”
“Yes,” said Van Tienck, “one for each of us—we
can go over to Owen Sayre's, a neighbour of mine,
and he and his five sons will make six, to which we
three will make nine, the man down at the door ten,
and that will be a clever muster alone; besides we can
stop at three farms on the way, and I think can get
five more to join us.”
The men then said they would go. Van Tienck told
his daughters of the affair, and told them to dress them-
selves, and sit up till daylight.
“Iſ it’s the refugees, Foxy Joe's among them, I'll
lay a dollar,” remarked one of the sisters.
6

62 ANNALS OF THE REvolution.
“If he is,” said his wife, “I hope he gets a bullet
in his heart before morning.”
“Oh sister, how harshly you talk,” gently chided
the other sister.
“I can’t help it—my heart burns with indignation
when I think of him and the refugees. What he is I
know—to my sorrow I know him—and they must all
be as black-hearted wretches as him, or they never
would be guilty of the cowardly crimes they commit.
Doesnt what they did yesterday—shooting a harmless
woman in her house—show what they are Cowardly
cruel wretches Oh, if I was a man, how I should like
to shoot them down by the hundreds!”
“Some say it wasn't a refugee, but one of the Hes-
sians, that shot Mrs. Caldwell,” said the sister.
“Come, girls, come,” shouted their father up the
stairs; “we’re going.”
The girls then went down stairs, and their father,
with the man and the two travellers, shouldered their
guns and started across the fields towards Owen Sayre's.
They had been gone about ten minutes, and the girls
had betaken themselves to the kitchen, when a knock
occurred at the bar-room door. They went into the
bar, and the eldest asked, “Who’s there?”
A man answered in a supplicatory voice, and asked
for something to eat, stating that he was hungry.
“We can’t let you in. Wait till morning, and you
shall have as much victuals as you can eat.”
“Open the door quietly and you shall not be mo-
lested; but if you don't I’ll burst the door open.”
“Do, if you dare, and get a bullet in your head.”
“You talk big—and I might fear a bullet if you had
a gun or pistol, but I know a thing worth two of that.
Your old dad and two refugees with him have gone off
with the guns.”
“Refugees!” exclaimed the girls in alarm.

64 ANNALS OF THE REvo, UTION.
“Yes | haſ ha I’”
At this moment, a window in the second story was
smashed in, and Moses Doan and some of his brothers,
with Foxy Joe and four Hessians, leaped from the shed
into one of the chambers above. This was heard by
the three sisters, who now, filled with a horrid appre-
hension of what their fate would be, gave utterance to
the most piercing shrieks, and ran wildly about the
house. The gang in an instant precipitated themselves
with fiendish exultation into the bar-room. The unſor-
tunate sisters, upon their knees, entreated to be spared;
but the inhuman Foxy Joe, seizing his own wiſe,
snatched her up from her knees and passed her over
to one of the Doans, who carried her to a chamber,
and amidst her prayers and tears completed his hellish
purpose. Her sisters met each a similar fate. The
house was plundered of money and valuables. The
villains drank all they wanted, and then poured all the
liquors over the floor and broke the glasses—they ate
their fill, and destroyed the rest of what provisions were
in the house—and finished by tying the clothes of the
three sisters above their heads and turning them out
of the house, to which they set fire, and decamped.
It appears that the two travellers were of the refugee
gang, as was also the man who brought word of the
widow Sockwell's house being fired. The plot was
laid in this way. Two were to pass themselves off for
travellers, and take lodgings. A portion of the gang
were to leave the camp early in the evening, and se-
crete themselves in a wood behind Mr. Van Tienck’s
house. Another portion of them were to repair to
the lone house of Mrs. Sockwell and set it on fire.
When, towards midnight, the party concealed near Van
Tienck’s saw the widow’s abode on fire, one of their
gang knocked, as we have described, and aroused Mr.
Van Tienck, who, if alone, would not have an instant


BATTLE OF SPRING FIELD. 65
thought of sallying forth to the rescue; but if his two
lodgers would accompany him, he was at once willing.
After they had got him half a mile from his house,
they seized him, gagged him, plundered his pockets,
left him lying upon the field, and returned to the
house to participate in the plunder and riot.
This daring outrage was followed by others equally
revolting. Night after night houses were plundered,
and females violated by this inhuman gang of Refugees
and Hessians, Loud was the cry that went up from
the land and implored the vengeance of the Almighty
upon these devastators of chastity and property. On
the 16th of June, Washington and his army marched
out to give the British battle. Several days were
passed in skirmishing-the Americans were victorious,
and Kniphausen was compelled to retreat. On the 23d
took place the engagement at Springfield, after which
Kniphausen gave orders to burn the town. Only four
houses were left standing. That night they retreated
to Elizabethtown Point, and early next morning crossed
over to Staten Island.
The Doans and their gang did not follow the army
to New York, but scoured through Staten Island, and
crossing over into Jersey at South Amboy, rode rapidly
to Trenton, and in less than three days were again
among their old haunts in Bucks county. Foxy Joe
accompanied them, and was considered by the Doans
a valuable accession to their gang.
The destitute condition of the American army being
at this time strongly represented by Washington to
Congress, a subscription for the relief of the suffering
soldiers was set on foot, and the sum of $300,000
promptly contributed by the citizens of Philadelphia.
The arrival of a body of auxiliary forces from France
Was º, expected, and on the 10th of July this wel-
6

66 ANNALS OF THE REVOLUTION.
come aid appeared off Rhode Island,-and a squadron
of seven sail of the line, five frigates and five schoon-
ers, convoying a fleet having 6000 men under the
Count de Rochambeau on board, sailed into the harbour
of Newport.
In the month of September of this year (1780),
Washington, who had now taken up his position at
West Point, 50 miles above New York, on the Hud-
son, having occasion to hold an interview with Ternay,
the French admiral, and Count Rochambeau, intrusted
the command of this impregnable post to General
Benedict Arnold. Arnold, though a brave warrior,
was a man of no moral integrity, and was a profligate
in his habits. His dissipations had involved him in
debt, and his accounts in regard to the disbursement
of public moneys, of which he had had the administra-
tion, were so unsatisfactory, that he was liable to an
impeachment. Alarmed by the terrors of a guilty
conscience, he determined to get rid of pecuniary re-
sponsibility by betraying his country. A negotiation
with Sir Henry Clinton was accordingly entered into,
in which he bound himself for a specified number of
thousand pounds and the rank of a brigadier-general
in the British army, to make such a disposition of his
troops as should enable the enemy to make themselves
masters of West Point.
Major Andre was the negotiator in this affair, and
under the name of Anderson he carried on a clandes-
time correspondence with Arnold, who signed himself
Gustavus. To facilitate their negotiation, the British
sloop of war Vulture was moved up the Hudson near
to West Point, and on the night of the 21st a boat was
sent by Arnold to the Vulture to bring Andre ashore.
Arnold and Andre met, and their interview lasted till
daybreak; it was then too late for the latter to return

CAPTURE OF ANDRE. 67
to his vessel, and Arnold conducted him within one of
the American posts, where he remained concealed till
the following night. In the interval, the Vulture moved
lower down the river to get beyond the reach of
an American battery, by the fire of which she was in-
commoded. Cut off from this way of getting back to
New York, Arnold furnished him with a disguise and
passport, and he started by land. He had advanced in
safety near the British lines, when he was captured
near Tarrytown by three militia-men of New York,
namely, Isaac Vanwart, Levi Paulding, and David Wil-
liams, to whom he announced himself as John Ander-
son, and producing a pass from Arnold, they permitted
him to proceed; but he had not gone many yards,
when one of them, upon a little recollection, was so for-
cibly struck by the impression of some particularity
which he conceived he had noticed in the stranger's
manner or countenance, that he peremptorily insisted
upon a more strict examination. This recollection
was decisive and fatal to Andre. Upon closely search-
ing him, they found in his boot the most important
papers, decisively proving Arnold's treason. In this
dilemma, Andre offered them a large purse of gold
and a valuable gold watch, besides promising them a
permanent provision for life and future promotion, if
they would permit him to proceed; but they nobly
refused his offers, and took him to Tarrytown, notice
of his arrest being at the same time sent to General
Washington. The papers found upon his person were
in the handwriting of Arnold, and contained accurate
details of the forces, ordnance, and defences of West
Point, with the artillery orders, and an estimate of the
number of men that were ordinarily on duty to man
them, besides a copy of state matters that had been laid
before a council of war, by the commander-in-chief, on
the 6th of the month. -

68 ANNALS OF THE REVOLUTION.
Andre, still assuming the name of Anderson, re-
quested permission to write to Arnold to inform him
of his detention. This was inconsiderately granted,
and the traitor, being thus apprised of his peril, in-
stantly effected his escape to the Vulture.
General Washington returned from Rhode Island at
this crisis, and having taken the necessary precautions
for the security of his post, referred the case of Andre
to a court martial. Before this tribunal the young
British officer appeared with a steady composure, and
confessed all the facts of the case. The court finally
adjudged “that he ought to be considered as a spy;
and that, agreeably to the laws and usages of nations,
he ought to suffer death.”
Sir Henry Clinton, both by entreaties and threats,
did his utmost to save the life of Andre; but Washing-
ton did not think mercy compatible with his duty to
his country, and the young man underwent the penalty
by being hanged at Tappan, on the 2d of October,
meeting his fate with a dignity and fortitude which
equally excited the admiration and melted the hearts
of all spectators.
We return to the Doans, and find them actively en-
gaged in their depredations upon the property of the
people in Bucks county, and occasionally effecting bold
and desperate enterprises in the city of Philadelphia.
In the newspapers of that day (as may be seen by re-
ferring to a file of them preserved in the PHILADELPHIA
LIBRARY), were almost constantly advertisements of
rewards for their apprehension.
Foxy Joe and Joseph Doan the younger, were par-
ticularly expert in picking pockets and shoplifting.
They lived expensively at the sign of the Conestoga
Wagon in Market street, under fictitious names, giv-
* Where, on the 2d of October, 1782, died Major-General

Joseph DoAN RECEIVED As Lord RAwdoN. 69
ing themselves out as the sons of two rich planters of
the South. They were constant attenders of the Old
Theatre, and lavished their money upon some of the
dissolute females behind the scenes. They gained ad-
mission to the society of several opulent families by their
splendour of dress, assurance, and general display.
Joseph Doan the younger bore a strong resemblance
in person and expression of countenance, to young Lord
Rawdon, who, while the British army was quartered in
Philadelphia, was the favoured guest of many families,
both whigs and tories. Among the W. . . . . . gs he
was an especial favourite. Doan and Foxy Joe being
in the crowd one night as the theatre was letting out,
the hand of the former coming rather unadroitly upon
the coat-pocket of old Thomas W. . . . . . g, the old gen-
tleman quickly turned round, and at a glance mistaking
Doan for Lord Rawdon, and at once supposing his
lordship to be supporting an incognito, he smiled, shook
hands, and said in a whisper, “I am happy to see your
lordship—when did you arrive in Philadelphia?”
The sagacity of Doan at once perceived how matters
stood. He knew that Lord Rawdon had been intimate
in the family, and he was also aware of his own resem-
blance to that person. He at once determined to avail
himself of Mr. W.’s error. -
“I arrived this morning,” he replied to Mr. W.’s in-
terrogation. “I am passing in disguise from the army
in the South to communicate with Sir Henry Clinton at
New York. I thus frankly confide myself to you,
sir, perſectly aware of the kind feelings you entertain
towards me, and without the slightest apprehension of
being betrayed.” -
Charles Lee, who was deprived of his command in the army for
his inattention to Washington's orders at the battle of Mon-
mouth, in 1778. -

70 ANNALS OF THE REVOLUTION.
Mr. W., flattered by the confidence put in him by so
distinguished a person as Lord Rawdon, promised
inviolable secrecy, and immediately invited his sup-
posed lordship to his house. He asked him to accom-
pany him home that night. This invitation Doan de-
clined, but said he would call upon him the next
morning, and that he would also bring his friend Col.
Agnew—at the same time introducing Mr. W. to Foxy
Joe, who had already taken the hint, and now bowed
politely and shook hands with Mr. W.
“Where do your lordship and Colonel Agnew put
up!” asked Mr. W., as they were about separating.
“At the sign of the Conestoga Wagon,” answered
Doan; “under assumed names of course, as you will
readily suppose, sir.”
“Certainly,” assented Mr. W. “How long will
your lordship remain in Philadelphia?”
“But two days. I shall then proceed to New York.”
On the following day the supposed Lord Rawdon
and his friend Colonel Agnew partook of a sumptuous
dinner at Mr. W.'s table. Mr. W. and his daughters
did their utmost to render the visit of his lordship and
the colonel agreeable. In the afternoon they all took
a drive, and returned in the evening to tea. Two of
Mr. W.'s brothers dropped in during the evening; the
bottle was handed round for several hours, and his
lordship and the colonel exhibited a lively strain of wit,
which Mr. W. and his brothers received with an equally
good-humoured feeling of admiration. As it grew late,
Mr. W. suggested that his guests should remain with
him for the night; and, after some further pressing, his
lordship and the colonel accepted the proffered kindness.
At two o'clock the two brothers of Mr. W., who had
indulged freely in the bottle, were driven to their re-
spective residences, and shortly after, Doan and Foxy

-
THE WAR IN THE SOUTH, 71
Joe were conducted to the chamber in which they were
to pass the night.
On the following morning his lordship and his friend
the colonel were missing, as also was a good round
sum of cash from a desk that had been broken open,
and as much as five hundred dollars worth of silver
plate. At the sign of the Conestoga Wagon, Mr. W.
was informed that two men answering the description
had put up there for several days past, representing
themselves as the sons of Southern planters; that they
came just before daybreak, paid up their bills, got their
portmanteaus, mounted their horses, and rode off down
Market Street. A few days after, Mr. W. received a
letter that was mailed at Newtown, Bucks county,
asking him in a jeering manner, “how he liked the
company of Lord Rawdon and Col. Agnew'?" There
was no signature to the letter, but from the fact of its
having been put into the post-office at Newtown, and
other coincidences, Mr. W. was well convinced that he
had been the victim of no other than a Doan /
P A R T L V.
The War in the South—The eaecution of Col. Hayne
of South Carolina, by Lord Rawdon. – Surren-
der of Cornwallis. – Peace established. – The
DoANs more desperate than ever.—The abduction
of a young married woman,—Rewards offered by
Government for their apprehension—The death of
Moses Doan and Major Kennedy.— The trial at
Newtown, &c.
The operations of the war, during the campaign of
1781, were principally confined to the Southern States.
General Gates was removed from the command and

72 ANNALS OF THE REVOLUTION.
succeeded by General Greene, who gained a signal
victory over Lieutenant-Colonel Tarleton at the battle
of Cowpens. On the 15th of March followed the en-
gagement near Guilford Court House. After this the
brilliant engagement at Eutaw Springs, in which the
continental troops and militia displayed remarkable
intrepidity, and the British were finally compelled to
give way, and fled on all sides. After this disastrous
defeat, the interior of South Carolina was abandoned by
them ; and, on the 10th of May, Lord Rawdon burnt
the jail, mills, many private houses, and a great deal of
his own baggage, and evacuated Camden, leaving about
thirty of his own sick and wounded, and as many Ame-
ricans. While there, he hung in one day eight desert-
ers whom he caught. He took shelter with his army
in Charleston, soon after which he brought great odium
on the British cause by an uncalled for example of
severity. Colonel Hayne, a gentleman of fortune, dis-
tinguished himself in the defence of South Carolina, and
after the capitulation of Charleston he voluntarily sur-
rendered himself to the British authorities, asking for
his personal liberty on parole. He was answered that
he must either swear allegiance to the king of Great
Britain, or be subjected to a close incarceration. Pre-
vailed upon by some misjudging friends, Col. Hayne,
in this extremity, signed a declaration of ſealty to his
Britannic Majesty, protesting, though, against a clause
which required him to support the government of
George III. with arms. This clause he was assured
was not intended to be enforced. Notwithstanding
this, Hayne was shortly after summoned to join the
royal standard. Indignant at this breach of contract,
he again took up arms on the side of his countrymen,
and having the misfortune to be taken prisoner in a
skirmish, Lord Rawdon, without any trial being allow-

TREATY OF PEACE. 73
ed, ordered him to be executed. To all petitions for
the life of Colonel Hayne, his lordship was deaf, and
the gallant colonel was executed.
On the 19th of October following, Lord Cornwallis
capitulated at Yorktown, and the American war was
in effect concluded. The British were cooped up in
New York, Savannah, and Charleston, and occasion-
ally made incursions into the surrounding country for
purposes of foraging and plunder; but they found them-
selves utterly incompetent to pursue operations calcu-
lated to promote the main object of the war—the sub-
jugation of the colonies.
Negotiations were entered into between the mother
country and the thirteen states, and articles of peace
were signed—his Britannic Majesty unreservedly ac-
knowledging the independence of the American colo-
nies. All that the British plenipotentiaries could obtain
for the American loyalists and refugees was a provision
that the legislatures of the respective states should be
recommended to pursue the most lenient measures pos-
sible towards them. -
The Doans and their gang, no longer under the sha-
dow of British protection, were now more desperate
and ferocious than ever. They knew that every man’s
hand was against them, and they were determined to
be against every man. Except in disguise, they dared
not travel alone any more, and were always seen four
or five together. They dwelt in caves and in old de-
serted houses, and lived in a manner that at once
recalls to us the days of Robin Hood and the wildest
descriptions of novelty and adventure.
In the winter of 1782 they committed several rob-
beries, and in Bucks county no man considered his pro-
perty safe from them. The farmers of the county were
every now and then stopped by them and compelled to
7.

74 ANNALS OF THE REVOLUTION.
deliver up their money; and if they took a fancy to his
horse they would lead it off too, leaving the plundered
man to get to his destination as well as he could.
During this same winter the gang were flush of cash,
and drove about the county, while there was snow upon
the ground, in five sleds (rude affairs temporarily con-
structed by themselves), each sled having four horses.
They would rush into different villages about dark,
yelling forth bacchanalian songs, and the noise would
alarm the inhabitants, who, thinking for the moment
that the British were upon them, would fly into the
woods and be awhile in the utmost consternation.
One night, Moses and several of the gang sledded it
about twenty miles above Newtown, broke into the log-
hut of a man living in the forest there, and seizing upon
the man's wife, a young and pretty woman, carried her
off, and Moses made her live with him, which she did
for two months, apparently reconciled, but sought an
opportunity and escaped to Newtown. At Newtown
she told her story, and the people there were highly
excited in consequence of it. Measures were put on
foot to raise a party to go after the Doans and revenge
the injury of the young woman. This was not carried
through with, however, either from their feelings upon
the subject subsiding, or from their dread of encounter-
ing a gang so powerful and vindictive as the Doans.
The young woman was conveyed back to her husband,
but he refused to live with her. She came to Philadel-
phia, where she got a place as a servant in the Markoe
family, in which she remained several years; but hav-
ing become intemperate, she was finally received in the
Almshouse (Spruce street), where she died about the
year 1824. She used to tell the story of her capture
by the Doans with much delight, and could relate, be-
sides, many traditions of the prowess and enterprises
of the gang.

REwARDs for APPREHENDING THE DoANs. 75
Sobold and outrageous became the crimes of these
men, and so loud were the complaints of the citizens
of Bucks county, that the government of the State took
measures for the arrest of the gang, and on the 8th of
April, 1783, a law was passed by the General Assem-
bly of Pennsylvania, entitled “An Act to encourage
the speedy apprehending and bringing to justice
divers Robbers, Burglars, and Felons.” This act
was accompanied by a proclamation offering a reward
of £100 for the detection of eighteen persons men-
tioned, in which occur the names of Aaron, Mahlon,
Joseph, and Levi. So necessary was the detection of
these robbers considered by the community at large,
that if “any person should be in any way wounded,”
he should be entitled to £150,—if killed, his family
should receive £300.
Signed by order of the House,
FREDERIck A. Muh LENBERG.
PETER Z. LLoyd,
Clerk of the General Assembly.
Undeterred by these rewards offered for their appre-
hension, the Doans and their gang persisted in their
lawless course, and robberies were more frequent than
ever.
On Thursday, August 28th, 1783, a small party of
whigs in Bucks county, having intelligence that Moses
Doan, Levi his brother, and Abraham Doan, cousin
german of the two first, all three outlawed for robbery
by the recent act of the General Assembly, were in a
ruined house near the mouth of Tohiccon creek, they
went thither armed to take them. On approaching them
they were called to surrender; instead of which they
took up their arms and discharged them at the party,
by which Major Kennedy, an officer of militia, was

76 ANNALS OF THE REVOLUTION.
killed. A gun was pointed at another by Moses Doan,
but he closed in and seized upon the villain, who, still
resisting, was shot dead by another of the party.
Meanwhile Levi and Abraham Doan escaped by a
back door. A person posted behind the house fired as
they ran off, and one of them ſell, but rising again got
into the thicket which surrounded the house, and es-
caped. -
The following is copied verbatim from a paper ſound
in Moses Doan's pocket, aſter he was killed:
“These May inform Amy That It May Concarn that If Joseph
Done prisnor Now in philadelphia Is not Released And Acquit-
ted Immedately That We Will put Mulinburgh to Death. In ten
Days Without fail, and take another of your head Men and An
other till Wee have Taken ten, and for Every Refugee you put
to Death Wee Will put ten to Death, and for Every person you
put In Jail on Our Accounts, if you hang them Wee Will hang
five, and Burn ten houses and Barns, and We Will show you
Other Sort of Diversion than you have Ever Been Acquainted
With yet, for We Are Not your Subjects, Nither Will Wee Ever
Bee. But if you Will Release Joseph done And Acquitt him
Intirely then We Will Release Mulinburgh Directly Without
harm. As Soon as We know for Certain that Done is Released,
But If you Dont think proper to Release him then Abide By
the Consequence; for All you Can do Is to hang him And If
you Do Wee Will follow your Example to your Confusion. So
you and Us for It. -
The Royal, REFugees your Sworn ENEMEs.
“N. B. We perhaps May give him Liberty to Write his Senti-
ments and We Shall Endeavour to Convey. It to Where he thinks
proper.
“If you Don't know I Can Inform you that your govnor is as
proper. A person to Apply to On His account As Amy you can
Imploy.
* If you Make any Search We Will put our prisnor to Death
at the first Appearance of Danger.”
The superscription of this singular piece of composi-
tion was, “To Mulinburgh's frends if has Amy.”
From the tenor of this, we suppose it was the inten-
tion of Moses Doan and his gang to seize the person of
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78 ANNALS OF THE REVOLUTION.
Mr. Muhlenberg, and then send the above letter to inti-
midate the authorities into releasing Joseph Doan from
prison.
The reward offered by the commonwealth made peo-
ple active in their endeavours to capture the Bucks
county gang; and at the Court of Oyer and Terminer,
and General Jail Delivery, begun and holden on Tues-
day, the 30th of March 1784, at Newtown, before his
Honour the Chief Justice and the Hon. Mr. Bryan,
indictments were preferred and returned true bills by
the grand jury, against three persons as principal rob-
bers, not yet apprehended—against ten persons for
harbouring Abraham and Mahlon Doan, two of the
robbers that had long inſested the country—and against
one other person as an accessary before the fact to a
robbery.
Joseph DoAN, the Elder, was tried and found guilty
as an accessary after the fact, in receiving and com-
forting Solomon and Jesse Vickars, knowing that they
and other evil doers had previously robbed John Hart,
Esq.,” Treasurer of Bucks county, the 22d of October,
1783. The prisoner was burned in the hand and sen-
tenced to sir months imprisonment.t
Joseph DoAN, the Younger, was indicted for the
robbery of Philip Smith, and being brought to the
bar and arraigned for the same, pleaded guilty and was
sentenced to be hanged.
BENJAMIN KINsey, accused of inciting and abetting
Joseph Doan, the younger, to rob Jacob Weaver, was
brought to trial for his life; but the evidence not being
sufficient, he was acquitted.
Solomon WIckaRs, one of the witnesses to support
* Shallus’ Tables, March 30th, 1784, vol. i. page 156
t Ibid. vol. ii. page 321.
-

THREE OF THE DOANS EXECUTED. 79
the charge against Benjamin Kinsey, was charged
with wilful and corrupt perjury therein, was tried,
and being found guilty of the same, was sentenced to
stand one hour in the pillory, pay a fine of 20 shil-
lings, and to find sureties for his good behaviour for
one year. He stood in the pillory the same day ac-
cording to sentence.
NATHANIEL Horsely, for receiving and harbouring
Moses Doan, one of the robbers of John Hart, as afore-
said, after said Doan had been attainted by outlawry,
and he knowing of the said offence, was brought to trial
and convicted by the petit jury. This man lived in the
wretched hovel where Moses Doan and the two others
were found at the time Major Kennedy was killed.
Horsely was burned in the hand and sentenced to six
months imprisonment.
ELEAzER DoAN, formerly indicted, was now tried
for abetting and inciting Moses Doan to rob Nicholas
Grover, of Noxamixon township, and also for receiving
and harbouring him, after he and George Sinclair had
committed the robbery; but the evidence not being
sufficient to satisfy the jury, he was acquitted of both
charges.
On the 16th of October following, the younger Jo-
seph Doan was executed, at the same time with James
Burke, George Crowder, — Williams, and
Brown.
But notwithstanding the death of Moses and young
Joseph, the others were soon at the work of plunder
again, and on the 29th of July, 1788,” Aaron Doan
was reprieved under the gallows at Newark, N.J.,
having been convicted of breaking open Hassel Patter-
son's house at Acquackanonk. But on the 24th of
September of the same year, he and Levi were hanged
* Sea “Shallus’ Tables,” vol. ii. page 69.

80 ANNALS OF THE REvolution. -
at Philadelphia; * Benjamin Franklin then President of
Pennsylvania, and Joseph Coperthwait Sheriff of the
county. -
On the 29th of July 1789, just a year from the ex-
ecution of Aaron and Levi, another of the gang, Wil-
liam Cole, was hanged at Philadelphia, for escaping
from prison, and then robbing two countrymen on the
Wissahiccon road. By a new law, passed in March
1789, any person sentenced to hard labour, who es-
caped from prison and committed a burglary or rob-
bery, was to suffer death. That being the predicament
of Cole, he was the first who suffered under the law.t
In a few years not one of the gang remained, but
the memory of their desperate acts was long a pre-
vailing theme for the gossip of the winter fireside, and
to this day the old people of Bucks county speak of
them as a daring but bad set of men.
Tradition is riſe with anecdotes of the Doan family, and
it is said that the apprehension of one of them at the time
they were outlawed, occurred simply in this way. A par-
ty of idle men were one day congregated before a tavern
in the city of Lancaster, overlooking the jumping ſeats
of a man whose strength and agility were such that he
far outjumped all present. In the midst of the jumper's
success and exultation, an athletic man stepped from
the crowd and offered to beat him in jumping for a bet.
The offer was quickly accepted—the wager laid—and
the confident jumper did his best. As the new-comer
took his position, there was a general smile among the
bystanders at his presumption in venturing to compete
with the jumper. The stranger, however, leisurely put
off his hat and coat, tied a handkerchief around his
waist, gathered up his strength, and at one spring
* Shallus’ Tables, vol. ii. page 236. Ibid, volii. page 69.

CONCLUSION. - 81
cleared the ground several feet beyond the toe-mark
of his antagonist. Never were men more astonished
than the bystanders who witnessed this feat; and the
man who had thus been signally outdone was so won-
derstruck that he exclaimed, “By G-1 you must
either be the devil himself or one of the Doans.”
This remark acted like electricity upon the crowd.
Who was this man? He was at any rate a stranger
in Lancaster. The Doans were outlawed—large re-
wards were offered by the government for their detec-
tion—this man answered the description of them as
published in the papers, &c. The man was accordingly
taken up, taken from Lancaster to Philadelphia, and
was one of the two of the Doans hanged at Philadel-
phia on the 24th September, 1788.
Of another one of this desperate family it is said,
that upon one occasion, having been tried and sen-
tenced for some crime, he was led out of court across
the old Independence Square to the old prison,” and,
though in chains, he suddenly broke from the consta-
bles and leaped the whole flight of the steps. -
Of Moses it is said, so great were his strength an
agility, that he could run and take a flying leap over a
Comestoga wagon. The wagons in those days were
not so high as those that our readers are familiar with.
But over the Doans and all of those, or nearly so,
with whom they struggled, has the grave now closed:
and in concluding this unpresuming narrative of their
adventures and the Revolutionary reminiscences asso-
ciated with them, we have but to say that the aim we
had in view in thus rescuing from oblivion the memory
of these bad men, was not to pander to the vicious
tastes of depraved minds, but to “hold the mirror up
* At the corner of Sixth and Walnut streets, recently torn
down.
82 ANNALS OF THE REVOLUTION.
to nature,” in which the youth of our own time may
view the vices and crimes of a misguided family, and
profit by the dreadful experience in which the Doans
perished. INTEMPERANCE and REvºNGE, those fruit-
ful parents of guilt and misery, swayed their sceptre
despotically over the career of these men, and were the
cause—emphatically THE CAUSE—that either persuaded
or goaded them on from the commission of one despe-
rate deed to another And oh! how grateful, how
truly grateful, should the people of this enlightened era
be to that noble spirit of philanthropy which, with How-
ard-like benevolence, visits the hovels where congregate
the victims of Alcohol, and, taking them by the hand,
relieves their destitution and reclaims them from their
pernicious thirst! To the TEMPERANCE CAUSE, then,
all hail / and may its success in all time to come be
as signal and as glorious as it now is
º
º


APPEN DIX.
I.
PHILAD. December 20, 1776.
We the subscribers do pledge our faith and honour to serve
our country under the command of Captain Peter Brusstar, and
march with the militia of this city as Artillery Men.
Peter Brusstan, James Brusstar, Samuel Brusstar, David
Bradshaw, Peter Adams, Christian Rush, William Morris,
William Keen, John Delavan, Isaac Kelly, Charles McCarthy,
Joseph Yard, John Sutton, Thomas Yardley, Joseph Robinett,
Samuel Robinett, Conrad Wart, Daniel Ernest, Barnett Rock,
William Crawford, Jeremiah Bloomfield, Henry Brusstar, Lewis
Yard, Elijah Yard, John Curtis, Joseph Defree, Francis Lovit
Sargent, George Hutton, and others.
II.
In Council of Safety,
PHILADELPHIA, 5th December, 1776. {
To SAMUEL BRusTAR, Gentleman:
The Honourable Continental Congress having recommended
in their resolves of the 18th July, 1775, “That in the recess of
the provincial assemblies or conventions, the officers of the mili-
tary association, for the defence of American liberty, should re-
ceive their commissions from the respective committees of safety,
appointed by said assemblies or conventions:” in pursuance
thereof, we, reposing especial trust and confidence in your pa.
triotism, valour, conduct, and fidelity, do, by these presents,
constitute and appoint you to be Second Lieutenant of the Inde-
pendent Company of Artillery, in the county of Philadelphia,
associated for the defence of the liberties of America, and for
repelling every hostile invasion thereof: You are therefore care-
fully and diligently to discharge the duty of Second Lieutenant,
by doing and performing all manner of things thereunto belong-
ing. And we do earnestly recommend to all officers and soldiers
under your command, to be obedient to your orders, as Second
Lieutenant. And you are to observe and follow such orders and
(83)
84 APPENDIX.
directions as you shall receive from the Assembly or Provincial
Convention, during their sessions, or from this or a future Com-
mittee of Safety for this province, or any other your superior
officers, according to the rules and discipline of war, in pursu-
ance to the trust reposed in you: This Commission to continue
in force until revoked by the Assembly or Provincial Conven-
tion, or by this or any succeeding Committee of Safety.
By order of the Committee.
Thos. WHART.ox, Jun., President
III.
From the Philadelphia Daily Chronicle of May 27, 1843.
GENERAL WASHINGTON'S DISCHARGE OF THE FIRST
TROOP DURING THE REVOLUTION.
THE Philadelphia Troop of Light-Horse, under the command
of Captain Morris, having performed their term of duty, are dis-
charged for the present. I take this opportunity of returning
my most sincere thanks to the Captain and to the gentlemen
who compose the Troop, for the many essential services which
they have rendered their country, and to me, personally, during
the course of this severe campaign. Though composed of gen-
tlemen of fortune, they have shown a spirit and bravery which
will ever do honour to them, and will ever be gratefully remem-
bered by me. George Washington.
Head Quarters, Morristown, Jan. 23, 1777.
A List of Members in the Campaign of '76–77.
SAMUEL Morris, Captain; James Budden, 2d Lieutenant; John
Dunlap, Cornet; Thos. Leiper, 1st Sergeant; Wm. Hall, 2d Sergeant.
Samuel Penrose, Quarter Master; S. Howell, 1st Corporal; James
Hunter, 2d Corporal; Levi Hollingsworth, George Campbell, John
Mease, Blair. M'Clemachan, John Donnaldson, George Fullerton, Tho-
mas Peters, William Pollard, James Caldwell, William Todd, Samuel
Caldwell, Benjamin Randolph, John Lardner, Alexander Nesbit,
Thomas Leaming, Jonathan º George Graſſ, Francis Nichols.
These twenty-six gentlemen were the only effective members;
they served in the campaigns in 1776 to the spring of 1777 ;
were in the battles of Trenton and Princeton; took a number
of prisoners, and returned home with the above favourable dis-
charge from General Washington.
FINIS.













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