Two Brothers of Doan Family of Outlaw Sons Hanged September 24, 1788

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.

663The 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 664out 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, 665now 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.