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HE colonists of New England, and especially of New Hampshire, were
rarely free from apprehension of attack from their savage neighbors.
A desultory warfare was carried on, even when treaties seemed to have
secured peace. Houses were burned, farms, teeming with the fruits of
toil, destroyed, and the inhabitants either murdered or made captive.
Many instances are recorded, of suffering and torture inflicted upon
families, which have been thus attacked. One of the most remarkable
has been preserved in the words of one of the victims, Mrs. Elizabeth
Hanson.
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On the 27th of June, 1724, a party of Indians were discovered in
the neighborhood of the house of John Hanson, in Dover township, New
Hampshire. They had been lurking in the fields several days, watching
their opportunity, when Mr. Hanson and his men should be out of the way.
At the favorable moment, thirteen Indians, all naked, and armed with
tomahawks and guns, rushed into the house, killing one child as soon as
they entered the door. The leader came up to Mrs. Hanson, but gave her
quarter. At the time of the attack, she had a servant and six children.
Two of the little ones were at play in the orchard, and the youngest
child, only fourteen days old, was in the cradle.
The Indians set about rifling the house, fearing to be interrupted by
the return of some of the men, and packed up every thing that pleased
them, and which they could conveniently carry. The two children running
in from the orchard, the Indians killed one to prevent its shrieking,
and gave the other to the mother. The dead children were scalped, and
the mother, the servant, and the remaining children, were taken hastily
from the house. Mrs. Hanson was weak, yet she had no alternative but to
go, or die, and her children were frightened into silence. After wading
through several swamps, and some brooks, and carefully avoiding every
thing like a road, the party halted at night-fall, about ten miles from
Mrs. Hanson’s house. A fire was lighted, and a watch set, while the rest
of the party sought repose.
Just as the day appeared, the Indians were awake, and, with their
captives, set out again and travelled very hard all that day through
swamps and woods without a path. At night all lodged upon the cold
ground, wet and weary. Thus for twenty-six days, day by day, the party
travelled, over mountains, through tangled thickets, and across rivers
and swamps, sometimes without any food but pieces of beaver skin, and
enduring hardships, to which the Indians were accustomed, but which the
poor captives could scarcely bear.
At the end of twenty-six days, the party reached the borders of Canada,
and as they were compelled to separate, the captive family was divided
between them. This was a sore parting, but the mother had become
resigned to her fate, and taught her children by example how to suffer.
The eldest daughter, about sixteen years of age, was first taken away,
and soon after, the second daughter and the servant, at that time very
weak for want of food, were divided between Indians going to different
parts of the country. The mother, her babe and little boy remained with
the chief, and soon arrived at his village.
The captives were now well provided with food, but were compelled to
sleep upon the cold ground in a wigwam. As the wigwam was often removed
from place to place for the convenience of hunting, and the winter was
approaching, the lodging became disagreeable, and the small children
suffered severely. When the chief arrived at the Indian fort, he
was received with great rejoicing, and every savage manifestation of
respect. The shouting, drinking, feasting, and firing of guns continued
several days.
The chief had not long been at home, before he went out on a hunting
excursion, and was absent about a week. Mrs. Hanson was left in his
wigwam, and ordered to get in wood; gather nuts, &c. She diligently
performed what she had been commanded; but when the chief returned, he
was in an ill-humor; not having found any game. He vented his spleen
upon the poor captives, of course. Mrs. Hanson was roughly treated, and
her son knocked down. She did not dare to murmur, however, fearing his
anger.
The squaw and her daughter, sympathized with the captives, informed them
that the chief was anxious now to put them to death, and that they must
sleep in another wigwam that night. During the night Mrs. Hanson slept
very little, being in momentary expectation that the chief would.=come
to execute his threat. But the chief, weary with hunting, went to rest
and forgot it. The next morning he went out hunting again, and returned
with some wild ducks. He was then in a better humor, and all had plenty
to eat. The same state of things occurred very frequently, and Mrs.
Hanson was in constant fear of death. Sometimes she suffered much from
want of food.
By this time, hard labor, mean diet, and want of natural rest, had
reduced Mrs. Hanson so low, that her milk was dried up, and her
babe thin and weak. By the advice of an Indian squaw, she made some
nourishing broth for her babe, by broiling some kernels of walnuts, and
mixing them with water and Indian meal. But her joy at the success of
this invention was clouded by the action of the chief. Observing the
thriving condition of the child, he made the mother undress it, and
told her he intended to eat it as soon as it was fat enough. This was a
terrible blow to the hopes which Mrs. Hanson had begun to conceive, and
his cruel treatment of her and her children was aggravated every day,
till, at length, he fell violently ill, and for a time lingered on the
brink of death. He thought that this was a judgment of God upon him for
his cruelty, and he professed repentance. After this he soon recovered,
and the captives were better treated.
The chief, a few weeks after his recovery, made another remove,
journeying two days upon the ice, while the snow was falling. Mrs.
Hanson soon perceived the object of his journey. The chief, with the
hope of obtaining a ransom for his captives, wished to get nearer to the
French. He visited the latter, but returned in a very bad humor. Mrs.
Hanson was compelled to lodge in a sort of hole made in the snow, and
covered with boughs, in order to keep from his presence.
At length the captives were taken to the French, and after some trouble
and delay, ransomed for six hundred livres. They were treated very
kindly and furnished with all those things of which they had been so
long destitute. One month after they fell into the hands of the French,
Mr. Hanson came to them with the hope of ransoming the other children
and servant. With much difficulty he recovered his younger daughter, but
the eldest was retained by the squaw to whom she had been given, as she
intended to marry her to her son. No means could induce the squaw to
surrender the daughter, and the party were forced to return without her.
The servant was ransomed. On the 1st of July, 1725, the party arrived
home, having been among the Indians and French more than twelve months,
and, having suffered every hardship which the captive of the Indian
generally endures.
Mr. Hanson could not rest while his daughter remained in the hands of
the Indians, and he resolved to make another attempt to ransom her. On
the 19th of February, 1727, he set out on his journey, but died on
the way, between Albany and Canada. In the meantime, a young Frenchman
interposed, and by marrying the daughter himself, secured her freedom;
the Indians acknowledging the freedom of their captives as soon
as married by the French. The daughter returned to her anxious and
suffering mother and sisters, and thus gave them some consolation for
the loss of Mr. Hanson.
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