From the time of William Penn’s arrival, in 1682, while he was a lowly Christian himself, he had followers who did not have the same fear of God in their hearts, and who did not hesitate to excite the cupidity of the unsophisticated children of the forest, and by any and all means take advantage of them.

William Penn formed many treaties with the Indians and concluded many purchases, no one of which was well and accurately defined as to its actual boundary.

Penn and his agents were ignorant of the topography of the wilderness in the interior of “Penn’s Woods,” and in their earlier purchases had been in the habit of defining the boundaries of land by well-known streams or highlands, or well-known natural objects.

They often indicated their extension into the unknown region by such vague terms as: “To run two days’ journey with a horse up into the country as the river doth go,” or “Northeasterly back into the woods to make up two full days’ journey,” or “far as a man can go in two days from said station,” etc.

The first purchase of land from the Indians above the Neshaminy, in Bucks County, made by William Markham, the agent of William Penn, was in 1682. This purchase was to be bounded by the River Delaware on the northeast, and the Neshaminy on the northwest, and was to extend as far back as a man could walk in three days.

It is stated that Penn and the Indians began to walk out this land, commencing at the mouth of the Neshaminy, and walking up the Delaware; in one day and a half they got to a spruce tree, near Baker’s Creek, when Penn concluded this would be as much land as he would want at present. A line was drawn and marked from the spruce tree to the Neshaminy.

This was the only boundary which was ever settled by Penn in person, and Penn wrote of this trip, saying that they frequently halted to converse, smoke and eat.

Lines measured in that manner would often have extended far beyond the expectations of the contracting parties, so more definite terms were soon employed to define limits of land grants. But about 1718 the settlers, maintaining the authority of the original lines, pushed their improvements beyond the designated lines, much to the dissatisfaction of the Indians.

That act nearly precipitated war, had not wiser counsels prevailed, but encroachments continued until a general meeting of the Iroquois was held and their chiefs determined to put an end to the bickerings, and sent their chief sachems to Philadelphia. There they renewed old treaties, by the signatures of twenty-three of their chiefs, and deed to Penn’s heirs “all the said river Susquehanna, with lands lying on both sides thereof, to extend eastward as far as the heads of the branch or springs which run into the said Susquehanna, and all lands lying on the west side of the said river, northward, up the same to the hills or mountains.”

That did not even stop the unscrupulous land seeker and much additional land was taken from the natives, which in consequence provoked trouble.

After the death of William Penn a copy of one of those walk-deeds was found by Thomas and John Penn, who, at a council in 1733, fifty years after it had been executed, presented it to the Indians and received from them an acknowledgment of its validity, and under that an arrangement was made for a walk of one day and a half to settle the boundaries.

The Penns, although strict Quakers, did not shrink from using means about the honesty of which there could be some question, and they advertised far and wide for the fastest walkers, offering five hundred acres of land and five pounds in money to the man who would walk the greatest distance in the allotted time.

Every facility was furnished them, a direct line was run, underbrush was cleared away, refreshments were placed at convenient distances, all arranged so that there might be little or no delay. Indeed, the preparations for a modern marathon race could hardly be more carefully made.

The persons selected by the Governor were Edward Marshall, James Yeates and Solomon Jennings. One of the Indians was called Combush, another Neepaheilomon, also known as Joe Tuneam, and his brother-in-law, Tom.

The time appointed for the walk was the morning of September 19, 1737, when the days and nights were equal. The walk was to commence at a chestnut tree just above the present site of Wrightstown Meeting House, under the supervision of Timothy Smith, sheriff of Bucks County, and Benjamin Eastburn, surveyor general.

Marshall was a noted hunter, chain carrier, etc.; Yeates was a tall, slim fellow, very agile and fleet of foot; Jennings was remarkable for his strength, but was of very stout build.

A great crowd of spectators gathered at the starting point. The walkers were accompanied by a number of persons who carried refreshments and otherwise encouraged the walkers to greater efforts.

They walked moderately at first, but soon quickened their pace, so that the Indians frequently called to them to walk and not to run. Those remonstrances produced no effect, and most of the Indians left them in anger, saying they were being cheated. A number of persons had collected about twenty miles from the starting point to see them pass.

First came Yeates, stepping as lightly as a feather. After him, but yet out of sight came Jennings, with a strong steady step, then far behind him came Marshall, apparently careless, swinging a hatchet and eating a biscuit. Bets ran in favor of Yeates.

In two and a half hours they arrived at Red Hill, in Bedminister, but the pace by this time was too hot for Jennings and two of the Indians and they gave up the contest. The other Indian, Combush, continued with Marshall and Yeates, and when they arrived at the fork of the road, near what is now Bethlehem, Combush laid down to rest a moment, but on attempting to rise was unable to proceed farther.

Marshall and Yeates continued alone and by sunset arrived on the north of Blue Mountain. At sunrise the next morning they started again, but when crossing a stream at the foot of the mountain near Lehigh Water Gap, Yeates became faint and fell. Marshall turned back and supported him until some of the attendants came up, and then continued to walk on by himself. At noon, the hour when the walk was to terminate, he had reached a spur on the Second or Broad Mountain, estimated to be eighty-six miles from the starting point.

Having thus reached the fartherest possible point to the northwestward, a line was drawn from the end of the “walk” to the Delaware River.

Not being described in the deed of purchase, the agent of the Proprietaries, instead of running by the nearest course to the river, ran northeastward across the country about sixty-six miles, so as to strike the Delaware near the mouth of the Lackawaxen, thus extending far up the river, taking in all the Minisink territory, and many thousand acres more than they should have included had the line been run by the direct course to the Delaware.

This walk gained for the Penn’s territory which now constitutes the northern part of Bucks, virtually the whole of Northampton and a portion of Pike, Carbon and Monroe counties.

Following the defeat of the Continental Army at Brandywine, a detachment of the British Army under Major General Grant marched to Concord Meeting House, where it was joined by Lord Cornwallis and moved to near Chester.

The Americans retreated toward Chester. On the arrival of Washington, about midnight, he sent an account of the disaster to Congress. The next day the army marched by way of Darby to Philadelphia. The main body was encamped near Germantown for two or three days to rest.

Washington deemed it so important to save Philadelphia from falling into the hands of the enemy that he resolved to risk another engagement.

On September 15 he crossed the Schuykill and marched up the Lancaster road, with the intention of meeting the enemy. The British commander learned of Washington’s plan to attack him, and disposed his troops to meet the attack.

On the morning of the 16th Washington received information that the enemy was approaching by way of the Goshen Meeting House, and was already in that vicinity. The two armies prepared for action. Washington dispatched an advance guard to keep the enemy in check until his army was properly arrayed.

General Anthony Wayne in command of the advance, was to open the battle. Skirmishing began, but suddenly a rain storm of great violence stopped its progress. A hurried consultation was had as to whether the British should be fought on ground so soft there was danger of losing the artillery in casecase of defeat.

Washington gave the order to reform east of the White Horse and north of the Lancaster road.

The Americans discovered their ammunition was damaged by the rain and continued to Warwick Furnace. The storm continued for some time.

On the evening of the 18th, Cornwallis advanced to the Lancaster road, and the following day the entire army joined at the White Horse, and moved down the Lancaster and Swedes’ Ford road, where they encamped near the present village of Howellville.

On the 17th General Wayne’s division was sent to French Creek to annoy the enemy and endeavor to cut off the baggage train, and by this means arrest his march toward the Schuylkill until the Americans could cross the river higher up and pass down on the east side and intercept the passage of the river by the British.

General Wayne proceeded to the duty assigned him, and on the eighteenth encamped in the rear of the enemy, securely concealed from the knowledge of General Howe. Wayne’s home being in the neighborhood, he was acquainted with the locality.

On the nineteenth General Wayne watched the enemy with a view of attacking him should he move. On the twentieth, he believed the British Commander intended to take up the march, and it was his intention to advance upon the enemy’s rear and attack while in the operation of moving.

General Wayne had carefully guarded himself against surprise, planted pickets and sentinels, and threw forward patrols upon the roads leading to the enemy’s camp.

During the night a neighbor visited his quarters and advised him that the British intended to attack him during the night. Wayne took additional precautions, and awaited General Smallwood’s arrival with re-enforcements to enable him to take the offensive.

Although the British commander did not know where the forces of General Wayne lay, there were Tories residing in the neighborhood who did, and by these he was advised of the precise locality and of the nature of the approaches to it.

Howe sent General Grey to surprise and cut him off, and moved Colonel Musgrave with the Fortieth and Fifty-fifth Regiments up the Lancaster road, near to the Paoli Tavern, to intercept any attempt to retreat over that route. The watchword of the Americans for that night, through some treachery was communicated to the enemy.

General Grey, guided by his Tory aides, marched up the Swedes’ Ford road, and massed his troops as near Wayne’s camp as possible. General Grey cautiously moved through the woods up the ravine, and near the present Malvern station of the Pennsylvania Railroad.

General Wayne received intelligence of the enemy’s advances, immediately ordered the troops under arms, many were awakened by the cry, “Up, men, the British are on you!”

The night was dark, and the surrounding woodland made it uncertain as to the point of attack. General Wayne ascertained, however, that the enemy was advancing upon his right, where the artillery was placed, and ordered Colonel Humpton to wheel the division by sub-platoon to the right, and march off by the left, and thus gain the road leading to the summit of the hill.

The artillery moved off, but owing to a misapprehension the troops failed to move, although in a position to do so. In addition to this blunder, part of the force took the wrong road, which brought the men within the light of their fires, and thus gave the enemy an advantage which should have been avoided.

General Wayne took the light infantry and First regiment and formed them on the right, to receive the enemy and cover the retreat of the artillery.

General Grey had gained Wayne’s left about 1 o’clock in the morning. The troops under Wayne met the enemy with spirit, gave them several well-directed fires, which did considerable execution. They were, however, soon compelled to give way before superior numbers.

General Wayne with the Fourth regiment received the shock of the enemy’s charge, and covered the retreat of the rest of his line. He rallied such of Colonel Humpton’s troops as had taken the proper course in their retreat, where they were again formed to renew the conflict.

Both parties, however drew off without further contest, and General Wayne retreated to the White Horse, carrying with him his artillery and ammunition.

The British attack was made by twice the number of the troops commanded by Wayne. The enemy advanced with only bayonets and light horseman’s swords in a most ferocious and merciless spirit. General Grey ordered his men to remove the flints from their guns, that not a single shot should be fired.

The British dashed into the woods, guided by the straggling fire of the picket, and rushed into the camp yelling.

The Americans were completely surprised, some with arms, others without, running in all directions in the greatest confusion.

The light infantry bayoneted every man they met. The camp was soon in flames, and this with the cries of the wounded formed a scene terrible to behold.

In the slaughter even the sick and wounded were not spared. This conduct of the British commander has stigmatized it as “British barbarity” and has given to the action the title of the Paoli Massacre.

The loss of the Americans was about 150 killed and wounded. The British reported their loss as eight killed, but this is probably an inaccurate record.

The next morning the people in the neighborhood visited the scene and decently buried fifty-three mangled dead whose bodies were found upon the field.

When General Lachlan McIntosh was sent to relieve General Edward Hand at Fort Pitt it was expected that the frontiers would be made safe, as General Washington ordered the Eighth Pennsylvania and the Thirteenth Virginia detached from Valley Forge and marched to the Western post.

The plan of General McIntosh was to attack Detroit, which involved a march of 300 miles through a wilderness inhabited by savages, most of whom were hostile to the American cause. This army must be carried far from its base of supplies, and Fort Pitt was never strong. This was a stupendous enterprise.

The Delaware tribe, who had removed from the central part of Pennsylvania, were now living on the Tuscarawas and the Muskingum, and were the only Indians who had maintained neutrality between the Colonists and the British.

White Eyes, the head sachem and the greatest chieftain ever produced by this remarkable Indian nation, was devoted to the American cause. He revealed a spirit of intelligent sympathy with the struggle for liberty and even hoped that a Delaware Indian State might form a fourteenth star in the American Union.

Preparations were made for a formal treaty of alliance, and June, 1778, Congress ordered it to be held at Fort Pitt July 23 following, and requested Virginia to name two Commissioners and Pennsylvania one.

On account of the Continental troops being too far distant the treaty was postponed until September.

Colonel Brodhead and the Eighth Pennsylvania, which had been recruited in Western Pennsylvania, reached Fort Pitt September 10, 1778. Already the Delaware Indians were encamped near the shore of the river a short distance above the fort. Two days later the conference began.

This was probably the most remarkable treaty ever made in the interest of the United States.

By this treaty, the United States entered into an offensive and defensive alliance with a tribe of savage Indians, recognizing them as an independent nation, guaranteeing its integrity and territory. Each party bound itself to assist the other against enemies.

The treaty even contained a provision for the admission of an Indian State into the American Union. The Commissioners certainly knew this was impossible, yet they deliberately provided for it in solemn treaty, taking care, however, to subject the scheme to the approval of Congress.

In present day parlance it was a “gold brick,” the white men handed to their red brethren.

On the other hand, it was a most courageous act upon the part of the Delaware tribe to form this alliance with the Americans, as all the other Indian tribes of the West were in league with the British, and had for months been trying to persuade the Delaware to join them.

In that alliance White Eyes exposed his people to absolute destruction by the British and their red allies. He fully realized his danger, yet he had the courage to do what he believed to be the right thing, and he fell a martyr to his convictions.

The Shawnee were invited into the alliance, but made no response. At the treaty the Delaware deputies were White Eyes, the chief sachem; Killbuck, a famous medicine man and war chief, and Pipe, the chief warrior of the Wolf clan. All were attired in holiday regalia, paint, feathers and beads.

On the part of the Americans were General McIntosh and his colonels and staff officers. The interpreter was Job Chilloway, the noted Delaware Indian, who resided on the West Branch of the Susquehanna, and who was ever the true friend of the whites. Soldiers patrolled the parade ground or stood about watching the unusual scene.

General Andrew Lewis, one of the Virginia Commissioners, opened the conference on Saturday morning by presenting a belt of white wampum, and praising the Delaware tribesmen because they alone remained faithful to their treaties. He then presented a broad belt which had the wampum so arranged that it depicted a red man and a white man connected by a black line, denoting a road or path. He then proposed a formal alliance, giving a third belt, showing a white man and an Indian clasping hands.

General Lewis stated the intention of sending an army against Detroit and asked permission of the Delaware Indians for passage through their country.

Chief White Eyes gave thanks for the offer of friendship and alliance. He told them it was to form such an alliance that he and his comrades had come to the council. He promised a prompt consultation and an answer in the afternoon. He was the only Indian who spoke at the conference.

The arrival of another delegation of Indians consumed much time. The new arrivals were led by Wingenund, the Delaware wise man, and Nimwha, chief of the small band of the Shawnee, who lived with the Delaware at Coshocton.

The conference was resumed in the morning, when White Eyes announced the readiness of the Indians to accept the alliance. The Commissioners announced they would submit copy of the treaty in writing.

White Eyes then said: “Brothers, we are become one people. The enemy Indians, as soon as they hear it, will strike us. We desire that our brethren would build some place for our old men, women and children to remain in safety whilst our warriors go with you.”

On Monday the articles of confederation between a civilized and a savage nation were interpreted and explained to the Indians. On Wednesday White Eyes accepted the treaty on behalf of the Delaware and the Shawnee.

On the following day the articles of confederation were signed in triplicate, one copy for Congress, one for the Delaware, and one for General McIntosh. There were six articles:

First, all offenses were to be mutually forgiven; second, a perpetual peace was pledged; third, the Delaware assented to passages through their country for American Army and agreed to sell corn, meat and horses to the army and to furnish guides, while the Americans agreed to erect a garrison, within the Delaware country, a fort for the protection of the old men, women and children; fourth, related to punishment for offenses only by trial by judges of both parties, etc.; fifth, the United States pledged the establishment of a fair trade under the control of an honest agent.

The sixth article was the most remarkable of all. It guaranteed the integrity of the Delaware territory so long as the nation should keep peace with the United States, promised the Delaware nation should have a representative in Congress, etc. All these articles were contingent upon the proviso that “it meets with the approval of Congress.”

On the succeeding day, September 21, presents were given to the Delaware on behalf of Congress and the Indians then departed for Coshocton, to make preparations for joining the expedition against Detroit.

Chief White Eyes was treacherously killed; the soldiers spent the winter in the wilderness, where many hardships were endured, and the expedition proved a failure.

During the summer of 1753 the Six Nations, Shawnee, Delaware and Twightwee held a great treaty in Virginia, where they were called by Governor Dinwiddie, but who much offended them by his failure to attend the conference in person.

On their return the Indians sent word to Governor James Hamilton, at Philadelphia, that they desired to negotiate a new treaty at Carlisle. The Governor learned that Dinwiddie had not met them in Virginia and he thought Carlisle too far distant to travel on such a mission, so Isaac Norris, Speaker of the Provincial Assembly, Richard Peters, the secretary, and Dr. Benjamin Franklin were commissioned September 22, 1753, to meet and treat with the Indians.

Those who today wander through the streets of historic old Carlisle cannot realize that Franklin and his companions found little more than a frontier fort. John O'Neal, in a letter to Governor Hamilton, dated May 27, 1753, says there were only five houses in the town and but twelve men in the garrison.

Fort Lowther, on High street, near the Public Square, was a harbor of refuge for pioneer families so frequently exposed to Indian attack. Court was held in a log building on the northeast corner of Center Square.

Franklin never forgot his experience at Carlisle and referred to it frequently. His visit to help make a new treaty with the Ohio Indians was a mission of much importance. Through daring wiles of the French, England’s position in the New World was being imperiled more and more.

What attitude the Indians would take in a contest between English and French was of vital importance, not only to the King, but more especially to Pennsylvania settlers, who well knew the terror of Indian massacres and wars.

The Indians attending the Carlisle pow-wow wanted fire water as soon as the commissioners arrived, but Franklin and the other members were shrewd enough to promise rum only when the conference had been completed.

Scarouady, an Oneida chief, sometimes called Half King, who was a person of great weight in their councils, went into caucus with the commissioners before formal sessions began.

He regretfully advised that deliberations could not proceed until belts, strings and goods sent by the Pennsylvania Assembly as condolences arrived “to cover the graves of braves killed by the French and their Indians, and were spread out on the ground” before the assembled red men.

The commissioners wanted to begin work at once and offered to furnish a list and inventory of the delayed presents. It was then agreed to confer with the chiefs of the “Shawnee and Delaware on the state of affairs in Ohio,” pending arrival of the condolences.

Conrad Weiser and Andrew Montour acted as interpreters between the commissioners and Indians, while several magistrates and freeholders attended the conference, which was formally opened on the morning of October 1, after the gifts costing £800, which had arrived that morning, had been laid out on the ground.

During the three days following, when Indians and commissioners were not passing presents to one another, speeches were delivered according to the customary procedure of such gatherings.

At the closing of the first day, as is briefly mentioned in the report, “the goods allotted for each nation as a present of condolence were taken away by each.”

The forms of the condolences depended entirely on Indian custom and were settled in conference with Scarouady and Cayanguileguoa, a sensible Indian of the Mohawk Nation, and accordingly the proper belts and strings were made ready.

But the commissioners had been compelled to await until the condolences had arrived before they were able to assuage the Indian grief.

After the Oneida chieftain had offered the suggestion, “We dig a grave for your warriors killed in your country and we bury their bones, decently wrapping them in these blankets, and with these presents we cover their graves,” the Indians aired their complaints and protestations of loyalty to the English.

In return for all the delicate niceties of Indian procedure, which the wise Franklin had been careful to observe the red men covered graves of the English with a beaver skin blanket and offered as occasion required a string or two of wampum, belts and bundles of skins.

A shell, painted green on the concave side, with a string of wampum attached, was given the commissioners as evidence that the assembled Indians had but a single heart and that “green and good and sound.”

The calumet, a pipe decorated with fine feathers, was offered in proof that the Indians cherished no resentment against the English because of French inroads.

They made Andrew Montour a counselor for the Six Nations, presented him with a belt in token of their confidence and gave notice in a speech that a horn had been set upon his head as evidence of Indian respect for one of their number who served the English.

Franklin thus speaks of this treaty in his autobiography: “Being commissioned, we went to Carlisle and met the Indians accordingly. As these people are extremely apt to get drunk, and when so are very quarrelsome and disorderly, we strictly forbade the selling of any liquor to them; and when they complained of this restriction, we told them, if they would continue sober during the treaty, we would give them plenty of rum when the business was over. They promised this, and they kept their promise, because they could get no rum, and the treaty was conducted very orderly and concluded to mutual satisfaction. They then claimed and received the rum; this was in the afternoon.

“They were near one hundred men, women and children, some were lodged in temporary cabins, built in the form of a square, just without the town. In the evening, hearing a great noise among them, the commissioners walked out to see what was the matter.

“We found they had made a great bonfire in the middle of the square; they were all drunk, men and women quarreling and fighting. Their dark-colored bodies, seen only by the gloomy light of the bonfire, running after and beating one another with firebrands, accompanied by their horrid yellings, formed a scene the most resembling our ideas of an inferno that could be well imagined.

“There was no appeasing the tumult, and we retired to our lodgings. At midnight a number of them came thundering at our door, demanding more rum, of which we took no notice. The next day, sensible they had misbehaved themselves in giving us that disturbance, they sent three of their old counselors to make their apology.”

He concludes: “That if it be the design of Providence to extirpate these savages in order to make room for the cultivators of the earth, it seems not impossible that rum may be the appointed means. It has already annihilated all the tribes who formerly inhabited the seacoast.”

Besides the Connecticut claims, which took in almost the entire half of the Province of Pennsylvania, Virginia laid claim to a large portion of the western part. The origin of this claim dates very far back in the history of the country.

The charter of 1607 granted to the London Company all the territory in America lying between the 34th and 38th degrees of north latitude.

In 1609 the charter was amended and enlarged, so that it comprised a region stretching two hundred miles north and the same distance south of Point Comfort, and extending “up into the land throughout, from sea to sea, west and northwest.”

In 1623 the London Company was dissolved, and their territory, except where grants had been made to private individuals, reverted to the Crown.

The Virginians never fully accepted this decision. Penn’s grant was respected; but any other territory within the limits of their charter they continued to claim, notwithstanding the action of the King’s Bench.

To explore and occupy his vast domain was one of the most fascinating objects of the early Virginians.

It was to vindicate their claim to the region about the forks of the Ohio that the youthful Major George Washington was sent to the French posts in 1753.

The authorities of Pennsylvania, however, now began to contend that the claims of Virginia overlapped the charter granted to William Penn, and some correspondence took place between Governor Dinwiddie, of Virginia, and Governor Hamilton, of Pennsylvania, in the years 1752 and 1753.

Early in 1753 the Virginians undertook to secure possession of the country about the Forks of the Ohio against the common enemy, the French, by building a fort, where Pittsburgh now stands. The French, under Contrecœur descended the Allegheny, drove the Virginians away, and themselves built a stronghold at the same place, which they called Fort Duquesne.

This disputed territory remained in the hands of the French until General Forbes invested Fort Duquesne, November 24, 1758. The fort was rebuilt and named Fort Pitt.

No revival of the dispute took place until January, 1774, when one Dr. John Conolly, a native of Lancaster, and one whom Bancroft describes as “a physician, land-jobber and subservient political intriguer,” appeared with authority from Lord Dunmore, the governor of Virginia, and took possession of Fort Pitt, and renamed it Fort Dunmore.

Conolly issued a call to the public to assemble as a militia, and for this conduct he was apprehended by Arthur (afterwards General) St. Clair, a magistrate of Westmoreland County, and thrown into jail at Hannastown.

He was released on bail and returned to Virginia. Here he was appointed a justice of Augusta County, which the Virginians contended embraced the territory in debate, and shortly returned to Pittsburgh with a strong force.

He captured the court at Hannastown, and at Pittsburgh, April 9, 1774, he arrested Justices Mackey, Smith, and McFarlane, and sent them prisoners to Staunton, Virginia.

Conolly’s high-handed proceedings called for action by Governor John Penn, who wrote to Governor Dunmore, complaining of Conolly’s actions, and describing the boundaries of Pennsylvania.

Governor Penn gave a careful delineation of the several surveys and closed his letter by suggesting a temporary line of jurisdiction until the affair could be settled by King George III in Council.

Lord Dunmore replied March 3, 1774, in which he contravened the opinions of Governor Penn and refused to comply with his suggestions. He furthermore resented the arrest of Conolly and demanded the dismissal of St. Clair.

Governor Penn replied, March 31, when he recapitulated the history of the claim, and declined to dismiss St. Clair from his office.

On May 7, James Tilghman and Andrew Allen were appointed commissioners on the part of Pennsylvania to settle the question in dispute. They reached Williamsburg, the capital of Virginia, May 19.

Governor Dunmore demanded their proposition in writing, and they gave it to him on the 23rd.

The substance of the paper was that the Mason and Dixon’s line should be continued to the end of the five degrees from the Delaware River, and from the end of that line a line should be run corresponding in direction to the courses of the Delaware, and drawn at every point at the distance of five degrees of longitude from that river. This proposition would have the western boundary of Pennsylvania of the same form as the eastern.

Lord Dunmore replied that he did not believe the Crown intended such an irregular western boundary. He then proceeded to explain the boundary as he understood it.

It is a fact worthy of remark that Governor Penn’s proposition gave to Virginia nearly all that she claimed, while Dunmore’s gave to Pennsylvania far more than she demanded; the boundary lines as he defined them being almost identical with those at present established.

No agreement was reached and Lord Dunmore refused to relinquish his authority over Fort Pitt.

Meanwhile Conolly’s conduct was outrageous. He not only oppressed the people, but stirred up a war with the Indians, who committed great barbarities.

Governor Penn could not save the situation, nor could the law furnish any protection.

The war with the mother country developed and Dunmore and Conolly took sides against the colonists.

On the night of June 7, 1775, Dunmore was compelled to seek safety on board the “Fowney,” an English man-of-war, at York, Va., and Conolly soon joined Dunmore in his place of refuge.

In December, 1776, the legislature of Virginia proposed a line of demarcation, which was slightly different from those already suggested, but Pennsylvania could not accept it.

In the meantime matters remained in a chaotic condition, especially as to Westmoreland inhabitants. But the time came when it was necessary to do something.

Finally George Bryan, John Ewing, and David Rittenhouse, on the part of Pennsylvania, and Dr. James Madison and Robert Andrews, on the part of Virginia, met as commissioners at Baltimore, August 31, 1779, and after thorough consideration of the subject agreed as follows:

“To extend Mason and Dixon’s line due west five degrees of longitude, to be computed from the river Delaware, for the southern boundary of Pennsylvania, and that a meridian, drawn from the western extremity thereof to the northern limit of said state, be the western boundary of said state forever.”

This agreement was ratified and confirmed by the legislature of Virginia, June 23, 1780, and by that of Pennsylvania, September 23, 1780.

In 1782 commissioners appointed by the two states ran the lines, but these were only temporary. In 1783, David Rittenhouse, John Lukens, John Ewing, and Captain Hutchins, on the part of Pennsylvania, and Dr. James Madison, Andrew Ellicott, Robert Andrews, and T. Page, on the part of Virginia, again ran the lines, and set up stone pillars at regular intervals.

This work was accomplished in 1784, and ended further dispute in the matter.

During the Revolutionary War a number of young men either to escape from serving in army or paying fines, or for the reason that they may have sympathized with the element which opposed the independence of the young colonies, and did not choose to enlist openly with the enemy, found a more profitable employment in secret acts of treachery and piracy among their neighbors.

For that service they were amply compensated by the British, especially during their occupancy of Philadelphia and New York City.

There were not a few such outlaws, and they did not reside in any one quarter of the State, but the most notorious of them all were several brothers by the name of Doan.

The Doans lived in Plumstead Township, near Doylestown, Bucks County. The father, Israel Doan, was a worthy man, but his six sons as they grew to manhood abandoned all the noble principles of the religious sect with which they had been reared, and retaining only so much of the outward forms as suited their nefarious schemes, they became a gang of most desperate outlaws.

The sons were professedly Tories and pursued for a time a very profitable trade in stealing the horses and cattle of their Whig neighbors, and disposing of them to the British Army, then in Philadelphia.

The brothers lived in the highways and hedges and waged a predatory and retaliatory war upon their persecutors. They were men of fine figures and addresses, elegant horsemen, great runners and excellent at stratagems and escapes.

The Doans were distinguished from their youth for great muscular activity. They could run and jump beyond all competitors, and it is said one of them could jump over a Conestoga wagon.

They delighted to injure public property, but did no injury to the weak, the poor, or the peaceful.

One of the brothers, Joseph, was a school teacher in Plumstead Township. Two of the brothers had joined the British in Philadelphia, and through them the stolen horses were disposed of and the proceeds shared.

The Doans at school were often displaying their pockets full of guineas, which at first were believed to be counterfeit; but subsequent events proved their genuineness, and disclosed the source from which they had procured so considerable an amount of gold.

Suspicion had long fastened upon the family; they were closely watched and eventually, about the year 1782, the stealing of a horse belonging to John Shaw, of Plumstead, was positively traced to them. This brought upon Mr. Shaw and a few others, who were active in their detection, the combined malignity of the whole banditti and it was not long before they obtained their revenge.

The Doans added to their band another villain of kindred spirit by the name of Robert Steele. Under the leadership of Moses Doan and Joseph, the schoolmaster, the seven outlaws fell upon Mr. Shaw in the dead of the night, in his own house, bruised and lacerated him most cruelly, and decamped with all his horses and everything of value they could take from the house.

A son of Mr. Shaw was dispatched to the nearest neighbors for assistance and to raise the hue and cry after the robbers. But these neighbors being Mennonites, conscientiously opposed to bearing arms and having besides an instinctive dread of personal danger, declined interfering in the matter. Such was the timidity and cautiousness manifested in those times between the nearest neighbors, when of different religions and political sentiments.

Young Shaw, however, soon raised a number of the inhabitants, part of whom responded to his father’s call for assistance, and part of whom armed themselves and went in pursuit of the robbers.

When the Doans finished with Mr. Shaw, they proceeded to the house of Joseph Grier, and robbed him, and then went to a tavern kept by Colonel Robert Robinson, a very corpulent man, whom they dragged out of bed, bound him in a most excruciating position, and placed him naked in the midst of them; then they whipped him until their ferocity was satisfied.

They robbed and abused several other persons the same night, and then fled into Montgomery County. Here they were overtaken, somewhere on Skippack, and so hotly pursued that they were glad to abandon the five horses on which they rode, and seek safer refuge in the thicket. Joseph was shot through the cheeks, and captured when he fell from his horse. The others escaped.

The prisoner was confined in jail at Newtown, then the county town of Bucks, but while awaiting trial effected his escape. He fled into New Jersey, where he taught school, under an assumed name, for nearly a year.

The Federal Government offered a reward of $800 for him or his brothers, dead or alive. While Joseph was in a saloon one evening a man was heard to say that he would shoot any one of the Doans on sight for the sake of the reward. Joseph took the hint and made his way into Canada.

Moses, the captain of the gang, with two of his brothers, had taken refuge in a cabin occupied by a drunken man, near the mouth of Tohickon Creek. Mr. Shaw learned of the place of their concealment, rallied a party with Colonel Hart as leader, and surrounded them.

Instead of shooting them down at once, Colonel Hart opened the door, and cried out, “Ah! You’re here, are you?”

The Doans seized their guns and shot down Mr. Kennedy, one of the party. Two of the outlaws crawled through a window unseen, and escaped in the woods. Moses, the most respectable of all the brothers, surrendered. Immediately after he gave himself up he was shot down by one of the attacking party. It was discovered that the man who killed Moses was a former member of his outlaw band and killed him to close his mouth forever.

Two others of the Doan brothers, Abraham and Levi, were later captured in Chester County, and afterward hanged on September 24, 1788, in Philadelphia. Their bodies were taken back to Plumstead Township for burial.

Their valor and generosity made them respected above ordinary robbers, and many temperate people in the county expressed or felt great commiseration for them.

The Doans made a desperate fight to obtain pardons and their case caused intense excitement throughout the entire State, but they paid the price their lawlessness deserved.

Many years after the Shaw robbery, young Shaw became a magistrate in Doylestown. One day Joseph Doan, the robber and schoolmaster, now a refugee from prison, entered his office. The Squire gave him a cool reception but inquired of his errand.

The old scoundrel had returned from Canada to bring suit against a Quaker for a small legacy of $40. He had the impudence to require Squire Shaw’s services, although he had robbed and nearly killed his father. Squire Shaw performed his professional duties, but treated his unwelcome client with cool disdain and hatred.