I was trying to get a pic of the curled big trigger behind the ram rod. I wasn't allowed to touch, so it wasn't easy. So I received a 1989 historical society report on the two competing allegations of the two different museums having the Dick Pointer gun. In it, the WV state museum "armorer" gives the opinion that the wall gun could have been completely built in the colonies, and that it was not from Germany, as the original order had noted in his letter when he sold it to the museum. I suppose this is the same individual who believes that later built percussion kentucky fought Indians on the Virginia frontier. I'm tending to feel this big gun has the better claim. It belonged to Governor MacCorkle, of West Virginia, who was a big collector of WV objects. It is also more consistent with the load allegedly shot out of the barrel.
In Ann Royall's description of the attack on Fort Donnally, she included the following description:
The inhabitants flew to Donnally's Fort, to the amount of three hundred souls. It was late in the evening before they were all fairly in, principally women and children: there were but four men besides Col. Donnally, and a negro man belonging to him, and three or four guns in the fort. The negro's name was Dick Pointer, and Dick saved the fort! On the same night the Indians drew near, old Dick (as he now is, for he is still living,) and the four men, were standing guard. Col. Donnally's house made a part of the fort, the front of it forming a line with the same, the door of the house being the door of the fort. Near this door, Dick and his companions were stationed, and about midnight Dick espied, through a port- hole, something moving, but the night was so dark, and the object making no noise, it was long before he discovered it to be an Indian, creeping up to the door on all fours. The negro pointed it out to his companions, and asked "if he might shoot;" "no," they replied, not yet. In about twenty minutes after this, a large force was at the door, thundering it to pieces with tomahawks, stones, and whatever weapon offered. The door being of the stoutest sort, resisted their efforts for some time; at length they forced one of the planks. Dick, (who, from every account, is as brave as Cesar,) had charged his musket well with old nails, pieces of iron, and buck shot; when the first plank dropped, he cried out to his master, "May I shoot now, sir?" "Not yet, Dick:" he stood ready, with his gun cocked. The Indians, meanwhile, were busy, and the second plank began to tremble. "O master, may I shoot now?" "Not yet," his master replied. The second plank falls; "Now Dick," said his master; he fired, killed three, and wounded several; the Indians ran into some rye, with which their fort was surrounded, leaving the dead bodies at the door. Shortly after this, or at least before day, they were attacked by a large party of men, under the command of Col. Samuel Lewis, who had, during the while, been collecting and preparing for that purpose, and were totally routed by these men. Mrs. Welsh's husband, Arbuckle, was one of them. But had it not been for Dick Painter's [sic] well-timed shot, every soul in the fort must have been massacred. (*This house is still standing, and the bullet holes made in it by the Indians when they were attacked by the whites, are still visible. Mr. A. Rayder now lives in it.) I have had the relation from several persons, and from old Dick himself. The poor old creature wanders about very shabby: the country does allow him something, but his principal support is derived from donations by gentlemen, who visit this place and admire his character. He does not know hold old he is, he thinks he was twenty-five at the attack of Donnally's Fort. His head is as white as wool, which, contrasted with his black keen eye, gives him a singular appearance. His master, some years after the signal service he rendered his country, set him free.
