Davy, the Lame Indian, Surrenders at Fort Pitt, May 30, 1783

During the morning of May 30, 1783, an Indian was discovered sitting on a porch in Pittsburgh, holding in his hand a light pole.

When a girl of the household responded to his alarm he asked her in broken English for milk. She told members of the family that the Indian was a mere skeleton and they appeared on the porch and found him so thin and emaciated that they could scarcely detect any flesh upon his bones. One of his limbs had been wounded, and the pole had been used as a sort of crutch.

On being questioned, he appeared too weak to give much of an account of himself, but drank of the milk. Word was immediately sent to General William Irvine, commandant of the garrison of Fort Pitt, who sent a guard and had him taken to the fort.

When questioned, he said that he had been trapping along Beaver River, and had a difference with a Mingo Indian who shot him in the leg, because he had said he wished to come to the white people. This story was not believed, especially by some who thought they recognized him as an Indian known as Davy. He was told to tell the truth, he would fare better, and he gave an account of the attack on the Walthour settlement, April 24, in which the following facts were related:

Five or six men were working in Christopher Walthour’s field, about eight miles west of the present Greensburg. Among the workers was a son-in-law, named Willard, whose daughter, sixteen years old, was carrying water to the men.

The workers were surprised by the appearance of a band of Delaware who captured the girl. The men reached their guns, which were a short distance away, and made a running fight as they retired toward the fort. Old man Walthour and Willard were killed, the latter falling not far from the stockade. An Indian rushed out of the bushes to scalp Willard, and was just in the act of twisting his fingers in the white man’s long hair, when a well-directed rifle shot, fired from the fort, struck the savage in the leg, who gave a horrid yell and made off toward the woods, leaving his gun beside his victim.

As soon as a band of frontiersmen could be collected they pursued the Indians, following their trail as far as the Allegheny River.

Almost two months after the attack the badly decomposed body of the Willard girl was found in the woods not far from Negley’s Run. Her head had been crushed in with a tomahawk and her scalp was gone.

The lame Indian after relating many horrid details told that he lay 376three days without moving from the first place he threw himself in the bushes fearing pursuit; then he crawled on hands and one foot until he found the pole in a marsh, which he used to assist him, and in the meantime lived on berries and roots. He lay all day on a hill overlooking a garrison of militiamen, thinking of giving himself up, but as they were not regulars he did not venture. Driven to desperation by hunger, he decided to make his way to Fort Pitt, and give himself up to regular soldiers.

Davy was confined in the guard house in the fort, but the news of his capture and his identity reached the settlement of Brush Creek and caused considerable excitement there.

Kindred and friends of the victims were hot for revenge and the chance presented itself. Mrs. Mary Willard, the widow of the man Davy killed and mother of the girl killed and scalped by his companions, accompanied by a deputation of her neighbors, arrived at Fort Pitt and asked General Irvine to deliver up the prisoner.

At first the request was refused, but when the body of the Willard girl was afterward found, a mass-meeting was held and a committee chosen to go to Fort Pitt and renew negotiations with General Irvine for the surrender of Davy.

After much deliberation, General Irvine yielded to the pleadings of the committee and surrendered the prisoner. The order of General Irvine to the frontiersmen was as follows: “You are hereby enjoined and required to take the Indian delivered into your charge by my order and carry him safe into the settlement of Brush Creek. You will afterward warn two justices of the peace and request their attendance at such times as they shall think proper to appoint, with several other reputable inhabitants. Until this is done and their advise and direction had in the matter you are, at your peril, not to hurt him, nor suffer any person to do it. Given under my hand at Fort Pitt, July 21, 1782.

“WILLIAM IRVINE.”

The general also sent a note to Mrs. Willard, in which he urged her to do nothing rash in retaliating her vengeance on the prisoner, and not to permit him to be put to death until after “some form of trial.”

The intention of the frontiersmen was to summon a jury of their neighbors and try him, at least to comply with the General’s orders. But the fact he was an Indian would be sufficient evidence to condemn him, even if the wounded leg was not added evidence. In event of conviction he was to suffer death in regular Indian fashion, by torture and burning.

On arrival at Walthour’s, Davy was confined in a log blockhouse for two days and three nights, while the neighbors and magistrates could assemble for the trial and execution.

While a few were guarding the prisoner, some were in quest of the neighbors and others collected wood and materials for the burning, which 377it was already determined should be at the identical spot where he had received his wound while in the act of scalping Willard.

On the night preceding the great day the guard was somewhat careless and, realizing their prisoner was a bad cripple, they joined rather enthusiastically in the preparations for the execution.

On arising in the morning the blockhouse was empty. The guards were aroused and an investigation revealed the guardhouse door securely locked. No human being could get through the loopholes. It was found the only possible way of escape was through the narrow space between the overjutting roof and the top of the wall, and through this he must have escaped.

Bitter was their disappointment, when they learned their prey had escaped. In every direction eager searching parties ranged the country, but no trace of the wounded Delaware. The hunt continued for two days, but Davy had made good his escape and saved himself from the warm reception which awaited him later in the day.