David Lewis, Robber and Counterfeiter, Born March 25, 1790

David Lewis was the most notorious robber and counterfeiter in this country a little more than a century ago.

He was born at Carlisle, March 25, 1790, of poor, but respectable parents, being one of a large family of children. The father died when David was less than ten years old, and the widow had a hard struggle to raise her family. Be it said to the credit of David that he remained with her and assisted in raising the family until he was seventeen years old. Then he worked at different occupations in and about Bellefonte until he enlisted in the army.

During this service he was punished by a sergeant for some offense and deserted, only to re-enlist a few months later, as a private in Captain William N. Irvine’s company of light artillery, under an assumed name.

By this time he had formed vicious habits and he immediately planned to decamp with his bounty money, but he was discovered as a former deserter. The War of 1812 was imminent and discipline rigid, so that the sentence of his court martial was death. Through the efforts of his distressed mother, his sentence was commuted to imprisonment in a guard house, secured by ball and chain.

He served only one week of this sentence, for he then made his escape and safely reached a cave on the banks of the Conodoguinet Creek, less than two miles from Carlisle. The very night he arrived in this favorite haunt Lewis began his long and varied career of robbery and lawlessness. This cave and another on Little Chickies Creek near Mount Joy, Lancaster County, were the storehouses for the major portion of the ill-gotten loot of Lewis and his gang.

The first victims of Lewis were the country banks, but recently established and whose bank notes were easy to counterfeit. Lewis was quick to make the most of this condition. He journeyed to Vermont and there made enormous quantities of spurious bank bills, purporting to have been issued from banks in Philadelphia and various Pennsylvania towns. These were successfully passed in New York.

Lewis was captured and committed to jail at Troy, from which he soon escaped, with the assistance of the jailer’s daughter, who fled with him and became his wife. His devotion to her was so genuine that it is strange her influence did not prove sufficient for him to have become a valuable member of society instead of one of the worst criminals on record.

Lewis was a man of unusual physical strength, handsome, and possessed a most pleasing personality. He was conscious of that fact, and 218made many friends, not in crime, but those who would aid him in making escape or give him timely warning. The story is told of Nicholas Howard, a prominent landlord near Doubling Gap, who would display a flag from a certain upper window when the coast was clear, and Lewis was thus advised of the movements of the officers seeking his apprehension. Food was often carried to him in his hiding place by those who never suspected they were befriending an outlaw.

A Mr. Black, of Cumberland, Md., related a personal adventure with Lewis in the Allegheny Mountains. Black had crossed the mountain on horseback to Brownsville, where he collected a large sum of money. He rode a speedy black horse. While in Brownsville he won another horse in a race and the following day started home, riding the new horse, leading his own “Blacky.”

In a lonely ravine a man suddenly appeared and jumped on Blacky’s back and rode alongside Black and began to barter for the horse. The horse was not for sale and they rode together until a spring was reached, where they dismounted and quenched their thirst and ate a bite and drank some peach brandy. By the time a second spring was reached Black and his new-found companion were on intimate terms. The stranger asked Black if he had ever seen Lewis, about whom there was so much fear and excitement. He replied that he had not.

“Well, sir,” replied the stranger, jumping to his feet, “here is Lewis—I am the man.”

Black further stated that Lewis told him he had seen the race in Brownsville and knew he had collected much money there, and that he had preceded him to waylay and rob him, but that Black had treated him like a gentleman and he would not harm him or take a cent from his pocket.

At another time when a large searching party in Adams County in pursuit of Lewis met a well-dressed stranger on horseback, they asked him if he had “seen or heard anything of Lewis, the robber.” He replied that he had not and joined in the pursuit. Later he had the audacity to send a letter stating that they had been riding with Lewis, and he was anxious to learn if they had thought him an agreeable companion.

One of the best of his exploits took place in Mifflin County. Having failed in the execution of some plots to rob several wealthy farmers, his ready cash uncomfortably low, he set out to replenish his finances. Coming across a fine, large house that stood back from the highway, he knocked at the door, which was opened by an elderly woman of respectable appearance. Lewis, to ascertain where her money was kept, asked her to change a five dollar note.

“That I am not able to do,” replied the woman, “for I am unfortunate and have not a dollar in the house, and what is worse,” she added despondently, as she caught sight of a man coming through the 219woods toward the house, “there comes the constable to take my cow for the last half-year’s rent. I don’t know what to do without her.”

“How much do you owe?” inquired Lewis, hurriedly.

“Twenty dollars, sir,” answered the woman.

“Have you no one to help you?” inquired Lewis.

“No one,” she replied.

“Then I will,” said the robber, as he drew from his pocket the exact sum. “Pay that fellow his demand and be sure to take his receipt, but don’t say anything about me.”

Lewis had just time to make his escape, unobserved, when the constable arrived and proceeded to drive away the widow’s cow, but she rushed forward, paid him the money and took his receipt.

He immediately set out upon his return, but had not proceeded far, when Lewis bounded into the road and greeted him as follows:

“How d’ye do, stranger? Got any spare change about you?”

“No,” answered the frightened constable.

“Come, shell out, old fellow, or I’ll save you the trouble,” retorted Lewis, as he presented his pistol. This argument convinced the worthy official that the stranger meant business and he quickly handed over his money.

Lewis got back his twenty dollars and forty dollars in addition. He often afterward boasted that the loan of that twenty to the widow was one of the best investments he ever made.