AUTOBIOGRAPHY

OF MARY GIBBS BIGELOW

Maurine Carr Ward

Mary Gibbs was born on June 26, 1809, in Lisle, Broome, New York, to Benjamin Gibbs and Ann Hubbard. Her autobiography is filled with childhood memories, such as watching her father making maple syrup underneath the maple trees; she remembers being frightened so badly by wolves and a porcupine while on her way to school, that afterwards she was terrified of going to school alone; her grandmother Gibbs' wonderful pies, cucumbers, bread and butter.

She recalled moving down the Ohio River on a large lumber raft to an area below Pittsburg, Ohio. When she was seven, the Ohio River raised above its banks. Her father pulled a canoe into the door of the house, loaded up the family and floated them out of the flooded house to high ground. He worked as a cooper, making barrels at $1.25 a barrel, Later, Mr. Gibbs moved the family to Lawrence County, Illinois, obtained land, and built a log cabin as he continued his trade.

The first winter in Illinois was hard for the little family. Benjamin Gibbs went out each morning to hunt deer. Corn bread and potatoes supplemented the venison meat, but there was no milk or butter. Snow was melted for water.

By the time Mary was ten, her mother was boarding in another home for weeks at a time, doing weaving for others. This left Mary to care for the chores around the house, such as cooking all the meals, watering the stock in the winter, dipping tallow candles, washing the clothes, planting and caring for the garden, making preserves, and caring for her baby brother, age one and one-half.

Mary's story continues in her words as she tells of meeting her husband, Nahum Bigelow.

Nahum was born February 9, 1785 at Brandon, Rutland, Vermont to Simeon Bigelow and Sarah Foster.

“When I was thirteen, Nahum Bigelow, my future husband came to see us and I got acquainted with him. He was thirty-seven. My parents sent me to school. Nahum took me on a horse behind him, and went that day to a village to school in another county. I was away three months to this school. I boarded with Brother Levi Joy the school teacher, and his wife, and paid my board by spinning nights and mornings to make three day's work. . . . In the spring my father came and took me home. I was happy to go home and see my folks again.

The summer that I was fifteen I was taken sick with the chills and fever, whooping cough and scarlet fever, and couldn't do much. Father took the whooping cough the second time, having had it when a boy sixteen. This was the first spell of sickness since I had the long siege of bilious fever which I had in Ohio State. Nahum came once a month to visit us. . . . Nahum continued to visit me from time to time and when 1 was nearly sixteen proffered marriage, asking my parents. He then boarded at Uncle Clark's and worked at his perpetual motion machine. He was very ingenious.

Uncle Henry Bigelow, his oldest brother owned some land in Shelby County, joining Lawrence County. Nahum and one of my uncles bought up cattle, and drove cattle, but didn't make anything by it, but lost.

While my uncle and Nahum were away I was at home making my wedding dress in the

fall. I carded and spun the cotton and my mother and I wove it in an 800 or so reed very fine. It looked beautiful. I then bleached it a pure white. I made it plain with no flounces. It was woven so that half way to my knees it was corded and raised in diamonds. The cords were picked up with an awl ten threads between every cord. Sister and I raised the cotton and picked it out of the beautiful white balls. I then ginned it in a hand gin, feeding the cotton and turning the handle. I had picked the long, beautiful firs tripe cotton. The waist of my wedding dress was plain with a band around it, common straight sleeves just large enough to be comfortable. I had a bobinet ruffle in the neck of the dress. I was preparing to keep house. I had home-made shoes that my father made for me.

We were married in December at my father's house on a Sabbath Day. My Uncle CIark, who was a Baptist Elder, married us. Nahum was dressed in home-made cloth blue jeans. We had just a common supper. Uncle, Aunt and family were the company. We had chicken boiled, pot pie, all kinds of fruit that was wild. Crab apple preserves, cheese, butter, biscuits and light bread. No dance at any time. It was a good social evening. Retired to bed at the usual time.

Next day my husband made a log stable for his horses. He had one span of horses and I had a cow and a calf given me by my parents. I had a feather bed that I had picked from the geese.”

Mary gave birth to her first baby. Mary Jane, on October 15,1827. Hyrum was born next, on May 20, 1829. Mary and Nahum were living with her parents in Lawrenceville, Lawrence, Illinois during this time.

However, they had moved into CoIes County, Illinois, forty miles away, by the time Lucy was born on October 3, 1830. Asa Elijah was also born here on February 2, 1832. The family lived in a hewn log cabin with puncheon floor, split from big trees and hewn off. They owned sheep, oxen, cows and horses, and as Mary recorded, were very comfortable.

An accident occurred when Nahum was trimming limbs off a tree, causing him to fall on his ax blade, severing the main artery to the hand and the cords of the two little fingers. He was still able to work, and grew hay, wheat, corn, potatoes and melons on his land. Besides harvesting sugar from the trees, raising chickens and storing one hundred pounds of butter for the winter.

Three more children were born in Coles County; Lavina on March 24, 1834, Liola on October 4, 1835, and Sariah on January 29, 1838.

“ When Sariah was a baby the first Mormon Elders visited us.--Brother Coons [Libbeus T. Coons], Dibbins and David Gamett. I believe it right off and obeyed it in the spring. Sariah was about six weeks old. We began to prepare to move on to the Missouri, but instead of going to Missouri we made preparations and moved to Nauvoo, as the Saints were driven out of Missouri.’

We moved to Nauvoo in the fall of 1843. We went to Brother Matthews, and then down by the levee. Bought land and began to farm. We were all taken sick, had a terrible sickness--fever and ague. We lived there through the massacre and I had a son born on the 4 of July, 1844, a week after the Prophet was slain. We called his name Joseph Smith Bigelow. He lived nine months and sixteen days and died.”

Mary was baptized on April 1, 1838 by Libbeus T. Coons. Brother Coons, an elder in the Church, became the presiding elder of the branch at Camp Creek on May 1, 1842. Elder David M. Gamett was sustained as the clerk of the branch. It is uncertain who Mary is referring to when she wrote about the missionary Brother Dibbins.

Records of the Camp Creek Branch when it was organized show Nahum (holding the office of a teacher), Mary, Mary Jane, Hyrum, Lucy, and Ada [Asa]. At Camp Creek, Mercer, Illinois, Mary gave birth to Moroni on September 1, 1840 and Daniel on May 18, 1842, followed by Joseph Smith on July 4, 1844.

“The fall after he was born. at conference time, I was taken very very sick. All were very sick. We had sickness from the time we lived there until we left. While I was so very sick and was given up by everybody, was thought to be dying even by myself, I sent to the field for my husband to come and put down the dates of the births of my children. He came in haste and taking the Record Book put down the names and dates of some whose record had not been made.

Then afterwards I had a vision. The Savior cane to me and told me that I would get well. What about my baby, I asked, for he was also very sick. He answered me, “Your babe is in mine own hands. With it I will do as seemeth me good.” He then told me again that I would get well, for I had a work to do. Again I asked about my baby and received the same answer. The third time he promised me that I would get well, and again I asked about my baby, and again he gave me the same answer.

The baby got well and fat. This was in the fall. I got well also. But when the baby was so lovable in the spring it took the water on the brain and died suddenly. The same spirit rested on me as it did when I had the vision. I dedicated him to the Lord and I never shed a tear until I had been to the grave and came back. When we came back into the house, Daniel stepped into the house first and clasping his hands said, “ 0 my little Dafie is gone, is gone”. He was too little to speak plain. Whereupon we all burst into tears and lamentations. My sympathy was aroused, although I felt resigned to the will of the Lord, feeling it was all right.

My little Liola had the black canker which took his under jaw bone out and five teeth. I went the same summer to see my parents. Liola died while I was gone. He was so bad that the neighbors came in and sat up with him, and were also there after he died. He had spasms. When I came back I felt lonesome indeed. We had our blessings by President Young.

The next fall after the mob commenced to mob and burn houses, we were advised to move into Nauvoo from Camp Creek. We took all the honey we could and everything that we could, leaving the corn in the field. We took our cows, our horses and wagon and oxen and wagon and went into Nauvoo. We afterwards gathered corn and squashes.

We were in Nauvoo at the October conference held in the Temple in 1845.

Brother Young spoke that now the excitement and mobbing was allayed for the brethren to go back and secure their crops. My husband was not well when we moved back. He had the chills. We were among the first that moved back and being on a public road the mob noticed us.

On Monday evening after dark a posse of the mob came. They came and knocked on the door. Father [Nahum] was on the bed with a chill. The man said that he had orders to notify us to leave immediately. Father asked him, leaning on his elbow, "By what authority do you order peaceable citizens to leave."

He stuttered. "By orders of the Governor and other officers." It is not likely," Father said, "that the Governor will be giving orders for peaceable citizens to leave their homes. What is your name'? Where do you live?" He stuttered, "I live, live, all over--everywhere. I was from Carthage yesterday."

They made a big noise out doors and voices called. "Come out!. Don't be jawing with

no woman," as I had told him that I wasn't going to go. If I wasn't a Mormon they wouldn't

order me out. If you want to murder us, take us all out and leave us all together.

A young man that had been to school with one of my boys came in and said that, "We have not come down to parley with the women. We want to know if you are going to leave immediately. He spoke in a mad, savage and determined manner. Father said, "No, we are not going." Then he said, "If you are not going, you will be tumbled out and burnt up."

Voices out doors said. "Stick a brand of fire in the house and that will start them." He started for the fireplace and I started for him with the shovel or tongs. They called him out for another consultation. He came in again a second time, just inside of the door and said, "We will give you until Thursday night to leave or you will be tumbled out and burned up." They then rode off.

The next morning we started Hyrum off to Nauvoo to let President Young and Col Markham know of the threats of the mob. While Hyrum made the statement about the mob President Young sat with his head in his hands and then rose up and said, "If the mob should come to burn my house I would defend it to the last. Go home and tell your father to make an affidavit and have it sworn to, 'and then send it to Carthage to Major Warren. He is stationed at Carthage to prevent mob violence, so it is right for your father to send a written statement to him, and if he won't do anything, come to Nauvoo and you shall have all the help that you need." Joseph Young gave a pistol to Hyrum and told him to give it to his father to defend himself.”

Hyrum did as he was told. When he got to the court house, Major Warren informed him that because the court was in session, and because some of his troops had been sent to Lima, he couldn't spare any to protect the Bige1ow family and their neighbors until the next day. Hyrum then exclaimed that by the next day their house would be burned. Major Warren asked him where he lived.

When Hyrum returned to the horses and his companions, he felt very despondent and anxious, so he turned around and went back to Major Warren, asking if four men could be spared to come and protect the home. Again the Major replied that there were no men to spare. Dejected, Hyrum left for Nauvoo where he stopped to tell Brigham Young of his failure to obtain help.

Meanwhile, Major Warren worried about the situation, so he called in Captain Morgan to discuss it with him. Captain Morgan agreed that the situation was critical. He sent a Lieutenant and three men to the Bigelow house, arriving there about nine o'clock in the evening. When the troops were within a mile of our house they got a jack Mormon, Mr. Dickson, to pilot them. Asked first for Squire Logan and then for Mr. Bigelow. He was friendly and came to the yard, saying, "They live in here." and then turned back. When Mary Jane and 1 saw some one coming, I said, "Here they come!" Mary Jane came running in and said, "Four are coming, and 1 don't think Hyrum is with them." Father was in bed with his night cap on. One of them outside said, "You stay here and I will go and see." Father said, "That's not Hyrum," took his gun, expecting the mob and went to the door. One stepped to the door asking.

"Does Mr. Bigelow live here?"

"Yes that's my name." answered he. "What do you want'?"

"Let me in and I'll tell you," said the outsider.

"In the name of common sense, what do you want?" asked Father.

"What's the use to be so particular," said the one on the outside.

Then my husband, as he was pushing his way in, shot off his pistol and shot him in the left breast. And as he turned he said. "Boys, come to my assistance. I'm shot." Then he shot him again in the right side and cut his sword belt.

The men cried out, "We are from Carthage, we came to protect you;" and then one caught his foot in the stirrup and fell. One came running and fell over the sawhorse.

Father said, Why didn't you tell me so before, 1 wouldn't have shot you any sooner than I would my wife or children. . . .His coat was thickly padded and was smoking, but the pistol was too near, too much lead and too little powder so that he lived. He soon became so faint and exhausted that we got him on the bed and he bled profusely. All were alarmed lest he should die. The three men came in and readily understood that it was owing to his stupidity that he was shot.

Then Dickson came back into the house and got excited. One of the soldiers was dispatched to Carthage for Dr. Barnes and the Lieutenant's brother.

The Lieutenant said. "It is my own fault. I ought to have told him, but I did not think the old man was so smart, so courageous. But I will make an affidavit that whether I live or die, it will clear your father”.

The firing of the gun was a signal for the mob to gather. Mr. Dickson stepped out the back door and calmed the excited mob. informing them that the soldiers were there. When that didn't calm the men, the soldiers each took up a position outside the house to protect it and its occupants. Nahum, still extremely weak and sick, went back to bed. Hyrum and Mary sat up with the Lieutenant.

A little before daylight the doctor came with the Lieutenant's brother. Dr. Barnes talked to Father in a wicked way and said, "Such a man as you ought not to be at large." But the wounded Lieutenant Everett said. when the children felt bad, "Don't feel bad for my statement will clear your father." The names of the soldiers were Bush 'and Hedges. . .

A school teacher, Mr. Caldwell, came that morning and talked with the doctor and found out the truth, but being bitter against the Mormons he went away and raised a great excitement against Mr. Bigelow all over the country.

I got breakfast and after breakfast Hyrum hitched up the team putting in a straw bed and bedding and buffalo robe, and Mr. Bigelow got in to go off to trial. The Lieutenant was comfortably fixed in the doctor's carriage and went to Pontusic, where he made out an affidavit that Mr. Bigelow was not to blame, and then took a steamboat to his parent's home in Warsaw, Illinois. . . . One soldier remained with us, knowing that danger threatened Mr. Bigelow.

I heard parties passing, looking at Mr. Bigelow laying sick in the wagon and saying, "Let's take him out a flay him alive. This is the old codger that did the deed. Let's take him out and tie a stone around his neck and throw him into the river."

The soldier, Mr. Hedges. stayed close to the wagon, protecting Nahum, Mary and Hyrum. Upon arriving at Carthage, they were taken to the Hamilton Hotel, where Mary and Nahum were given a bedroom upstairs. At ten the next morning they were taken to the courthouse. There, thankfully, statements from Major Warren and Captain Morgan, plus the affidavit written by Lieutenant Everett acquitted Nahum allowing him to return home again.

We got home a little before night and I was so glad to see my lonesome little children who had been tormented with fear on our account and who were glad that we got home safe and alive. We had samp mush for supper.

James Porter who was living on my husband's farm and another man from Musgusto Creek came and told us that the mob was coming to burn the house and had threatened to kill old Bigelow and all his family. We did not feel safe, so one of the boys took Lavinia to Sister Gunsleys, as she coughed so bad, and we hid everything that was valuable and took our bedding and went and made our beds in the corn, near the bean patch where we had pulled up the beans. We took all of the children in bed with us, never undressing them, and having everything dark about the bed so that the mob wouldn't see us. It was cloudy. I was very sick with the sun pain. My husband administered to me and I felt better.

After prayers we laid down but had but little sleep as we felt like watching. In a very little while we heard firing and whooping at the house and were glad that we were hid.

My husband said. "Lay still and pray, children." We all prayed silently.

They yelled and set the bloodhounds on our track but the Lord preserved us from them. We could see them loping around and heard the mob racing through the corn field in search of us. The corn was hardly ripe and was not gathered.

We got up in the night and moved our bed in the hollow, and then my husband and Hymn went and leaned on the fence and watched proceedings. When the mob dispersed they came back and went to bed.

The mob came about 10 p.m. and went away at 3 a.m. They had ranted around until then. We were the only family In Camp Creek that was molested, which we wondered at.

At last daylight came and my husband got up, bidding us to lie quietly until he came back and he would see if the mob was completely gone. The November night was gone and the sun was up before he got back. He found the house still standing but the windows were broken. The tracks of horses feet were all around the house. He came back and told us we could get up and come to the house. We went back and my grown daughters commenced picking up the hidden things.

I wanted to get breakfast and sent my fourth child. my second son Asa, to the beautiful large spring that was under the porch of the milk house. The spring ran off into the milk house, where we kept milk and butter pans, chum, etc.

Asa went down for water. He brought the water to the house but said he believed the spring was poisoned as there was a glistening green scum on the water. He poked it away and got another pail full and it was the same. 1 felt that the child was inspired by God, and as the water stood the scum rose again.

Mary sent one of the children to another home to obtain water. Nahum then put some of the first water into a bottle so that Doctor Willard Richards and others in Nauvoo could analyze it. They later said that it contained four ounces of arsenic and would have killed ten men.

After this much persecution, Nahum loaded up his family and possessions and moved then into Nauvoo for protection. Hyrum occasionally returned to his former home in Camp Creek to get stock and crops. While there, he boarded with the James Porter family. Later, after the fear of being ambushed subsided, Nahum went with Hyrum also.

One morning James Porter invited Nahum to eat breakfast with him. Nahum had his own provisions, and tried to refuse, but Mr. Porter was insistent. Upon arriving at the Porter home, Nahum noticed that his children were still sleeping. This was very unusual, because Mr. Porter always insisted that his children have breakfast with him.

At breakfast, Nahum was offered coffee, which he felt inclined not to drink, but on being asked again, drank it. It was poisoned with white vitriol, which was slow to take effect. Later, Mr. Porter admitted that he had been bribed to poison Nahum.

Nahum didn't feel anything until shortly after breakfast. That afternoon while fixing a wagon tongue he began to tremble and turned pale. Hymn, realizing what had happened rode off for help, returning with an Elder Patten to administer to Nahum. By then he was screaming with pain. Nahum was sick for two or three weeks.

Elder Patten promised Nahum that he would not only get well, but that he would live to take his family to the Rocky Mountains. The Bigelow family emigrated with the William Snow ox team company. Upon arriving in the Great Salt Lake valley, they moved north to the

settlement of Farmington, Davis County. They were living there when Nahum died on January 28, 1851.

Mary later shows up in the Provo, Utah County, Second Ward records. She died on April 19. 1888.

MAURINE CARR WARD is editor of The Nauvoo Journal. The above autobiography was obtained from a typescript photocopy in the Utah State Historical Society, Salt Lake City. Utah. Additional information on Mary is found in Black, Susan Easton: Membership of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints: 1830-1848; Utah

Pioneer Biographies, vol 2, pp. 141-156. Records of Camp Creek, Illinois LDS Branch.

Hannah Emerson Duston

Hannah Emerson Dustin

Jonathan Dustin

Mehitable Dustin

Miriam Marsh

William Haynes

Daphne Haynes Hamblin

William Haynes Hamblin/Frederick Hamblin

Elmira Hamblin/Daphne Jane Hamblin Lewis

Bertha Adair/ Gilbert Vernon Lewis

William Clyde Finch/Cecil Harvey Lewis

Vurrell Gilbert Finch, Sr/Kristie Colleen Lewis

Vurrell G. Finch, Jr.

Duston Garrison Home

She is recounted in the following anecdote entered. The Story of Hannah Duston
Published by the Duston-Dustin Family Association, H. D. Kilgore Historian
Haverhill Tercentenary - June, 1940

On March 14, 1697, Thomas and Hannah Duston lived in a house on the west side of the Sawmill River in the town of Haverhill. This house was located near the great Duston Boulder and on the opposite side of Monument Street.

Their twenty years of married life had brought them material prosperity, and of the twelve children who had been born to them during this period, eight were living. Thomas, who was quite a remarkable man, - a bricklayer and farmer, who, according to tradition, even wrote his own almanacs, and wrote them on rainy days, - was beginning to have time to devote to town affairs, and had just completed a term as Constable for the "west end" of the town of Haverhill.

He was at this time engaged in the construction with bricks from his own brickyard of a new brick house about a half mile to the northwest of his home to provide for the needs of his still growing family, for Baby Martha had just made her appearance on March 9.

Under the care of Mrs. Mary Neff, both mother and child were doing well, the rest of the family were in good health, his material affairs were prospering, and it was undoubtedly with a rather contented feeling that Thomas, to say nothing of his family, retired to rest on the eve of that fateful March 15, 1697, little knowing what horrors the morrow was to bring.

Of course, there was always the fear of Indians. However, since the capture in August of the preceding year, of Jonathan Haynes and his four children while picking peas in a field at Bradley's Mills, near Haverhill, nothing had happened, and apprehensions of any further attacks were gradually being lulled. Besides, less than a mile on Pecker's Hill, was the garrison of Onesiphorus Marsh, one of six established by the town containing a small body of soldiers. It was believed that there was little ground for uneasiness.

But this was only a false security. Count Frontenac, the Colonial Governor of Canada, was using every means at his disposal to incite the Indians against the English as part of his campaign to win the New World for the French King. The latter, due to the need for troops in Europe, where the war known as King William's War was going on, was unable to send many to help Frontenac. So, with propaganda and gifts, the French Governor had allied the tribes to the French cause and bounties had been set on English scalps and prisoners. Every roving band of Indians was determined to get its share of these, and even now, such a band was in the woods near Haverhill, preparing for a lightning raid on the town with the first light of dawn. The squaws and children were left in the forest to guard their possessions, while the savage warriors moved stealthily towards the house of Thomas and Hannah Duston, the first attacked.

Thomas, like all good farmers, had risen and was at work near the house, attending to the morning chores, when he suddenly spied the approaching Indians. Instantly seizing his gun, he mounted his horse and raced for the house, shouting a warning which started the children toward the garrison, while he dashed into the house hoping to save his wife and baby. Quickly realizing that this was impossible, and urged by Hannah, he rode after the children, resolving to escape with at least one.

On overtaking them, and finding it impossible to choose between them, he determined, if possible, to save them all. A few of the Indians had pursued the little band of fugitives, firing at them from behind treees and boulders, but Thomas, dismounting, and guarding the rear from behind his horse, held back the savages by threatening to shoot whenever one of them exposed himself. Had he discharged his gun, they would have closed on him at once, for reloading took considerable time. He was successful in his attempt, and all reached the garrison safely, the older children hurrying the younger along, probably carrying them at times. This was probably the garrison of Onesiphorus Marsh on Pecker's Hill.

Meanwhile, a fearful scene was being enacted in the home. Mrs. Neff, trying to escape with the baby, was easily captured. Invading the house, the savages forced Hannah to rise and dress herself. Sitting despairingly in the chimney, she watched them rifle the house of all they could carry away, and was then dragged outside while they fired the house, in her haste forgetting one shoe. A few of the Indians then dragged Hannah and Mrs. Neff, who carried the baby, towards the woods, while the rest of the band, rejoined by those who had been in the village, killing twenty-seven and capturing thirteen of the inhabitants.

Finding that carrying the baby was making it hard for Mrs. Neff to keep up, one of the Indians siezed from her, and before its mother's horrified eyes dashed out its brains against an apple tree. The Indians, forcing the two women to their utmost pace, at last reached the woods and joined the squaws and children who had been left behind the night before. Here they were soon after joined by the rest of the redskins with their plunder and other captives.

Fearing a prompt pursuit, the Indians immediately set out for Canada with their booty. Some of the weaker captives were callously knocked on the head and scalped, but in spite of her condition, poorly clad, and partly shod, Hannah, doubtless assisted by Mrs. Neff, managed to keep up, and by her own account marched that day "about a dozen miles", truly a remarkable feat. During the next few days they traveled about a hundred miles through the unbroken wilderness, over rough trails, in places still covered with the winter's snow, sometimes deep with mud, and across icy brooks, while rocks tore their have shod feet and their poorly clad bodies suffered from the cold - a terrible journey.

Near the junction of the Contoocook and Merrimack rivers, twelve of the Indians, two men, three women, and seven children, taking with them Hannah, Mrs. Neff and a boy of fourteen years, Samuel Lennardson (who had been taken prisoner near Worcester about eighteen months before), left the main party and proceeded toward what is now Dustin Island, situated where the two rivers unite, near the present town of Penacook, N.H. This island was the home of the Indian who claimed the women as his captives, and here it was planned to rest for a while before continuing on the long journey to Canada.

This Indian family, stange as it may seem, had been converted by the French priests at some time in the past, and was accustomed to have prayers three times a day - in the morning, at noon, and at eveing - and ordinarily would not let their children eat or sleep without first saying their prayers. Hannah's master, who had lived in the family of Rev. Mr. Rowlandson of Lancaster some years before, told her that "when he prayed the English way he thought that it was good, but now he found the French way better." They tried however, to prevent the two women from praying, but without success, for as they were engaged on the tasks set by their master, they often found opportunities. Their Indian master would sometimes say to them when he saw them dejected. "What need you trouble yourself? If your God will have you delivered, you shall be so!"

During the long journey Hannah was secretly planning to escape at the first opportunity, spurred on by the tales with which the Indians had entertained the captives on the march, picturing how they would be treated after arriving in Canada, stripped and made to "run the gauntlet;" jeered at and beaten and made targets for the young Indians' tomahawks; how many of the English prisoners had fainted under these tortures; and how they were often sold as slaves to the French. These stories, added to her desire for revenging the death of her baby and the cruel treatment of their captors while on the march, made this desire stronger. When she learned where they were going, a plan took definite shape in her mind, and was secretly communicated to Mrs. Neff and Samuel Lennardson.

Samuel, who was growing tired of living with the Indians, and in whom a longing for home had been stirred by the presence of the two women, the next day casually asked his master, Bampico, how he had killed the English. "Strike 'em dere," said Bampico, touching his temple, and then proceeded to show the boy how to take a scalp. This information was communicated to the women, and they quickly agreed on the details of the plan. They arrived at the island some time before March 30, 1697.

After reaching the island, the Indians grew careless. The river was in flood. Samuel was considered one of the family, and the two women were considered too worn out to attempt escape, so no watch was set that night and the Indians slept soundly. Hannah had decided that the time had come.

Shortly after midnight she woke Mrs. Neff and Samuel. Each, armed with a tomahawk, crept silently to a position near the heads of the the sleeping Indians - Samuel near Bampico and Hannah near her master. At a signal for Hannah the tomahawks fell, and so swiftly and surely did they perform their work of destruction that ten of the twelve Indians were killed outright, only town - a severly wounded squaw and a boy whom they had intended to take captive - escaping into the woods. According to a deposition of Hannah Bradley in 1739 (History of Haverhill, Chase pp.308-309), "above penny cook the Deponent was forced to travel farther than the rest of the captives, and the next night but one there came to use one Squaw who said that Hannah Dustan and the aforesaid Mary Neff assisted in killing the Indians of her wigwam except herself and a boy, herself escaping very narrowly, shewing to myself & others seven wounds as she said with a Hatched on her head which wounds were given her when the rest were killed."

Hannah Duston Landing

Hastily piling food and weapons into a canoe, including the gun of Hannah's late master and the tomahawk with which she had killed him, they scuttled the rest of the canoes and set out down the Merrimack River. Suddenly realizing that without proof their story would seem incredible, Hannah ordered a return to the island, where they scalped their victims, wrapping the trophies in cloth which had been cut from Hannah's loom at the time of the capture, and again set out down the river each taking a turn at guiding the frail craft while the others slept.

Thus, traveling by night and hiding by day, they finally reached the home of John Lovewell in old Dunstable, now a part of Nashua, N.H. Here they spent the night, and a monument was erected here in 1902, commemorating the event. The following morning the journey was resumed and the weary voyagers at last beached their canoe at Bradley's Cove, where Creek Brook flows into the Merrimack. Continuing their journey on foot, they at last reached Haverhill in safety. Their reunion with loved ones who had given them up for lost can better be imagined than described. Doubtless Samuel was the hero of the younger generation for many days.

Thomas took his wife and the others to the new house which he had been building at the time of the massacre, and which was now completed. Here for some days they rested.

In 1694 a bounty of fifty pounds had been placed on Indian scalps, reduced to twenty-five pounds in 1695, and revoked completely on Dec. 16, 1696. Thomas Duston believed that the act of the two women and the boy had been of great valuein destroying enemies of the colony, who had been murdering innocent women and children, and decided that the bounty should be claimed. So he took the two women and the boy to Boston, where they arrived with the trophies on April 21, 1697. Here he filed a petition to the Governor and Council, which was read on June 8, 1697 in the House (Mass. Archives, Vol. 70, p. 350), setting forth the above belief and claiming the reward, pleading that "the merit of the Action remains the same" and claiming that "your Petitioner haveing Lost his Estate in that Calamity wherein his wife was carryed into her captivity redrs him the fitter object for what consideracon the publick Bounty shall judge proper for what hath been herein done," etc.

The same day the General Court voted payment of a bounty of twenty-five pounds "unto Thomas Dunston of Haverhill, on behalf of Hannah his wife," and twelve pounds ten shillings each to Mary Neff and Samuel. This was approved on June 16, 1697, and the order in Council for the payment of the several allowances was passed Dec. 4, 1697. (Chapter 10, Province laws, Mass. Archives.)

While in Boston Hannah told her story to Rev. Cotton Mather, whose morbid mind was stirred to its depths. He perceived her escape in the nature of a miracle, and his description of it in his "Magnalia Christi Americana" is extraordinary, though in the facts doubtless quite correct and corroborated by the evidence.

In Samuel Sewall's Diary, Volume 1, pages 452 and 453, we find the following entry on May 12, 1697:

"Fourth-day, May 12 . . . . Hannah Dustan came to see us; . . . She said her master, whom she kill'd did formerly live with Mr. Roulandson at Lancaster: He told her, that when he pray'd the English way, he thought that was good: but now he found the French way was better. The single man shewed the night before, to Saml Lenarson, how he used to knock Englishmen on the head and take off their Scalps; little thinking that the Captives would make some of their first experiment upon himself. Sam. Lenarson kill'd him."

This remarkable exploit of Hannah Duston, Mary Neff, and Samuel Lennardson was received with amazement throughout the colonies, and Governor Sir Francis Nicholson of Maryland, after reading Cotton Mather's account of her escape, had a silver tankard, suitably inscribed, made in London, and later presented it to Hannah Duston. Monuments have been erected on the island (1874) and in G. A. R. Park, Haverhill (1861), commemorating the exploit, and an enormous boulder marks the site of the house on Monument Street, Haverhill, where she died.

The first monument, commemorating the fame of a woman, to be erected in the United States was one to Hannah Duston on June 1, 1861, in Haverhill.

Samuel Lennardson, on his return to Worcester, found that his father had removed to Preston, Conn., and there he grew to manhood, married Lydia -----, and died May 11, 1718, leaving three sons and two daughters.

Little is known of Hannah's life or that of Mary Neff after this event.

And now, let us return to Thomas Duston after his escape with the children. The fear induced by the massacre caused Haverhill to at once establish several new harrison houses. One of these was the brick house which Thomas was building for his family at the time of the massacre. This was ordered completed, and though the clay pits were not far from the home, a guard of soldiers was placed over those who brought clay to the house. The order establishing Thomas Duston's house as a garrison was dated April 5, 1697. He was appointed master of the garrison and assigned Josiah Heath, Sen., Josiah Heath Jun., Josep Bradley, John Heath, Joseph Kingsbury, and Thomas Kingsbury as a guard.

It was about this time that Hannah returned home. After the return from Boston, Thomas remembered that while constable the preceding year he had advanced the sum of ten pounds, fourteen shillings, and eight pence to Col. Nathaniel Saltonstall for money due several men as soldiers under the latter for service in 1695, and received an order from the Province Treasurer as security, which order was destroyed in the fire. As his request, Colonel Saltonstall wrote to the Province Treasurer on May 31, 1697, acknowledging receipt of the money in return for the order which was burned in Thomas's house the preceding March, and the order for payment of this sum to Thomas Dustonwas approved by the Council on Jone 4, 1697. (Mass. Archives.)

The details of an adventure of such an extraordinary character as that just described soon became public property, but little is known of Hannah's life after she settled down again to her accustomed round of household duties on her return home.

In fact, except for the record of the birth of her thirteenth child, Lydia, on October 4 1698, and the knowledge that she died early in 1736, -her will being proven in Ipswich on March 10 of that year and recorded in Salem Registry of Essex Probate, -nothing further was known until 1929, some two hundred and thitry-two years after her escape from captivity.

But in March, 1929, behind an old gallery pew in the Haverhill Center Congregational Church, the sexton, Marchus C. Jean, found several papers over two hundred years old. Among these was a letter from Hannah Duston to the elders of the church, applying for admission to the membership of the church. This letter is so unusual in character that it is presented here in full, as follows:

I Desire to be Thankful that I was born in a Land of Light & Baptized when I was Young : and had a Good Education by My Father, Tho I took but little Notice of it in the time of it :--I am Thankful for my Captivity, twas the Comfortablest time that ever I had; In my Affliction God made his Word Comfortable to me. I remembred 43d ps. ult-and those words came to my mind--ps. 118.17. ... I ave had a great Desire to come to the Ordinance of the Lords Supper a Great while but Unworthiness has kept me aback; reading a Book concerning +s Suffering Did much awaken me. In the 55th of Isa. Beg. We are invited to come:-- Hearing Mr. Moody preach out of ye 3rd of Mal. 3 last verses it put me upon Consideration. Ye 11th of Matthew has been Encouraging to me-- I have been resolving to offer me Self from time to time ever since the Settlement of the present Ministry: I was awakened by first Sacram'l Sermon (Luke 14.17) But Delays and fears prevailed upon me:-- But I desire to Delay no longer, being Sensible it is My Duty--. I desire the Church to receive me tho' it be at the Eleventh hour; & pray for me--that I may hon'r God and obtain the Salvation of my Soul.
Hannah Duston wife of Thomas AEtat 67.

And so ends the story of the escape from captivity of one of America's greatest heroines, Hannah Duston.

Hannah Duston Statue-Haverhill, MA