•S'*n^^ 
 
 EtosVov., 1570 
 
 M-^ 
 
Qass. 
 
 Book ..£.A_L]_. 
 
HISTORICAL ADDRESS 
 
 DEDICATION OF A MONUMENT 
 
 CHARLESTOWN, N. H. 
 
 BY REV. R;LABAREE, D. D., LL. D. 
 
 I' 
 
 LATE PRESIDENT OF MIDDLEBURY COLLEGE, VERMONT. 
 
 BOSTON: 
 
 PRESS OF T. R. MARVIN & SON, 131 CONGRESS STREET. 
 
 1870. 
 
\ 
 
 TN EXCHA.NGB 
 
 /2v..r^ 
 
 X-<^-Jt_i.^' 
 
 Charlestown, N. H., September 29, 1870. 
 Rev. Benjamin Labaree, D. D. 
 
 Dear Sir, — The undersigned having heard with great pleasure the historical 
 address delivered by you in the South Parish Church on the 30th ultimo, would 
 respectfully and earnestly request a copy of the same for publication. 
 
 Very truly your obedient servants, 
 
 GEORGE OLCOTT, 
 CHARLES C. KIMBALL, 
 LIVINGSTON STONE, 
 BENJAMIN WHIPPLE, 
 JOHN M. GLIDDEN. 
 LEVI WILLARD, 
 H. H. SANDERSON, 
 
 West Roxbury, October 3, 1870. 
 George Olcott, Charles C. Kimball, and others. 
 
 Geutlfnieii, — Your nuts of the 29th ultimo, rc'questing for publication a copy of 
 the historical address which I delivered in Charlestown on the GOth of August, is 
 received. The discourse was written in haste and with no view to publication, but if 
 in your judgments the perusal of it will give pleasure or instruction to the people of 
 Charlestown or to others, I will place the manuscript at your disposal. I shall take 
 the liberty, however, to make a few slight alterations. 
 
 I am, Gentlemen, 
 
 Respectfully your ob't serv't, 
 
 B. LABAREE. 
 
INTRODUCTORY NOTE. 
 
 Few towns in New England had a raoi'e eventful experience in their 
 early settlements than Charlestown, and therefore it is not a little 
 surprising that no complete history of the town has ever been written. 
 The " Annals of Charlestown" by the late Rev. Dr. Crosby, is a val- 
 uable collection of materials for the historian, arranged iu chrouolo""- 
 ical order, and it claims to be nothing more. Other brief sketches of 
 the town have been made, but they all come far short of full and well 
 digested history. The little book known as " 3Irs. Johnson^s Captiv- 
 ity," published more than half a century ago, contains many interest- 
 ing and stirring facts pertaining to the early history, and facts that 
 made a vivid impression upon the minds of a large number of readers 
 when first published ; and as successive editions have been printed, 
 fresh interest has been awakened with a few. But as time rolls on, 
 the number of persons familiar with the hardships and sacrifices of 
 the early settlers has been gradually diminishing, until, at the present 
 day, it is feared that to some those trials are wholly unknown, and to 
 many others only imperfectly understood, through the uncertain teach- 
 ing of tradition. 
 
 The lovers of Romance, engrossed with their favorite authors, seem 
 to suppose, that in the sober realities of history, there is nothing 
 worthy of their attention. But if striking incidents, marvellous 
 occurrences, sanguinary battles, personal bravery, devoted patriotism 
 and hair-breadth escapes, constitute the main attractions of romantic 
 fiction, these qualities are incorporated with the early history of our 
 country, and especially with that of Charlestown. And whether the 
 truths of history and of our own history, too, are more important for 
 
the young, and for all, than the creations of fancy, need not be dis- 
 cussed. 
 
 Some of the relatives and descendants of Mrs. Johnson, and of her 
 fellow captives, concluded to erect a monument in memory of their 
 sufferings and virtues, hoping that it would at the same time, awaken 
 an interest in local history, and prove a perpetual memento to all 
 observers, of the conflicts, the trials, and the manly character of the 
 early settlers. To promote this object still further, it was thought 
 desirable that, at the dedication of the monument, a Discourse should 
 be delivered on the early history of the town. Hence the following 
 Address, prepared by request, for the occasion. 
 
 The day selected for the services was the 30th of August, the anni- 
 versary of the captivity. The weather proved highly propitious, and 
 the citizens of Charlestown gave the best evidence of their interest in 
 the questions of the day, by assembling in large numbers. The occa- 
 sion also drew many from the adjoining towns, and a few from a 
 great distance. The audience room of the church, (the Unitarian,) 
 the gallery and vestibule, were filled to overflowing. The Rev. Mr. 
 Chapin, missionary from China, and the Rev. Mr. Cobb, of Spring- 
 field, Vt., conducted the devotional exercises, and excellent music from 
 the organ, and by the choir of the church, was listened to with great 
 pleasure. 
 
ADDRESS. 
 
 Mr. President, Ladies and Gentlemen : 
 
 We live in an age of monuments. Individuals and fami- 
 lies, battles and revolutions, are commemorated, not only by 
 appropriate addresses, but by the erection of some suggestive 
 and durable structure. It may take the form of a church or a 
 hospital ; it may appear as a memorial hall, or as a literary insti- 
 tution. To commemorate the character and worth of a beloved 
 minister, an affectionate people place a tablet in the wall of the 
 church ; and friends, desiring to perpetuate, in a durable form, 
 the memory of friends and relatives, erect a marble slab or shaft, 
 with suitable inscriptions. Thus the affectionate heart, the 
 appreciative understanding, filial reverence, and a sentiment of 
 justice, may all find expression in the acts of devotion to friends 
 and benefactors of a past age. 
 
 In this tendency of the public mind, there is a deep signifi- 
 cance ; it must have its origin in some settled conviction of truth 
 and duty. A charitable interpretation would divest it of all 
 selfish ends, and give it this broad and liberal construction, viz. : 
 It looks to the past, and desires to do justice to the brave, the 
 good, and to those who endured hardships and privations in 
 procuring the blessings which Ave enjoy ; it contemplates the 
 present, and would impress upon the minds and hearts of the 
 young, sentiments of respect and reverence for the men and the 
 women who braved the dangers of forest, field and flood, for the 
 good of their posterity ; it forecasts the future, and endeavors 
 to transmit to coming ages, a knowledge of important characters 
 and events in a manner more impressive and enduring than is 
 usually done on paper or parchment. 
 
Men and events partially forgotten, are, in this age of mon- 
 umental renown, brought forth from their long oblivion, and 
 presented to the world for recognition and admiration. This 
 seeming love of the past cannot be mere affectation ; it is not 
 confined to our own people, whose whole history, ancient and 
 modern, is comprised within the brief period of three hundred 
 years ; but among nations that can boast of an antiquity worthy 
 of the name, the same spirit of research among the records of 
 antiquity, for the purpose of rendering due honor and pi'aise to 
 national benefactors, is sometimes exhibited in a striking man- 
 ner. Let me give a single instance by way of illustration : 
 One thousand years ago, what is now the kingdom of Norway, 
 consisted of small provinces and petty estates, which, in 872, 
 were, by the wisdom and valor of a powerful chief, reduced to 
 comjjlete unity, and made a strong kingdom, recognized and 
 respected by the other nations of Europe. His name was Harald 
 Haarfagar, or Harald of the Fair Hair. Nearly one thousand 
 years have elapsed, and no public monument has been erected to 
 commemorate that epoch in Norway's history, or to do honor to 
 the brave hero and national benefactor ; but in this age of active 
 reminiscences, the long neglected duty is to be performed. 
 Preparations are now in progress for constructing a fitting tes- 
 timonial which shall proclaim to the present and the future, the 
 debt of gratitude due to the chieftain by whose heroism Norway 
 became a united and prosperous nation. In 1872, a monument 
 will be completed on the shore of that kingdom, and combining 
 historical allusions, grateful recollections and public utility, will 
 take the form of a lighthouse, and thus, while it guides mari- 
 ners in the navigation of a dangerous coast, it will, at the same 
 time, transmit to all coming ages, the brave exploits and pru- 
 dent counsels of Harald of the Fair Hair. 
 
 Indeed, this ready disposition to do honor to the past, cannot 
 be claimed as a characteristic of our times, though it is especially 
 developed and made more diffusive in the present age. We do 
 not admit that kings and statesmen, chieftains and soldiers, are 
 the only persons whose services and exploits are worthy of 
 remembrance ; nor should rulers and nations alone be allowed to 
 honor and perpetuate such services. In a less public and more 
 quiet way, friends may pay their respects to friends, relatives to 
 
relatives, townsmen to townsmen. Nor are subjects for such 
 commemoration wanting ; almost every frontier settlement in the 
 country will furnish them. 
 
 The history of this town is fruitful in characters and incidents, 
 worthy of special remembrance. It is not my purpose to recite 
 to you the early history of Charlestown. I propose only to pass 
 in review some of the incidents and characters which gave that 
 history peculiar prominence among the towns in this vicinity. 
 For many years Charlestown was a frontier settlement, the out- 
 post of civilization, the battle-field of the English, the French 
 and the savage. Frontier homes, forest life, and almost per- 
 petual wars, must necessarily develope characters, and create 
 stirring incidents, that could hardly be dreamed of in the quiet 
 times of peace, and in the affluent homes of luxury. Important 
 issues were depending upon the success or failure of this enter- 
 prise at No. 4. The people, indeed, pursued their avocations, 
 or defended their homes as ordinary duties imposed by the pecu- 
 liarities of the times, or the necessities of their condition, not 
 probably perceiving that they vv^ere engaged in the solution of 
 important political and social problems of great interest to man- 
 kind. Yet in this remote settlement, and in these strange con- 
 ditions of life, they were aiding to work out results destined to 
 produce effects upon kingdoms and continents, even upon the 
 future character and progress of civil society. 
 
 Four great nations of Europe had planted colonies in North 
 America : the Spaniards in the remote South, the Dutch in New 
 York, the British on a broad belt along the Atlantic coast, 
 extending from the possessions of the Spaniards on the South, 
 to those of the French on the North. The French were in pos- 
 session of the extreme North, and of the far distant South AYest, 
 and they claimed all the intermediate territory extending in a 
 broad semi-circle, from Nova Scotia to the St. Lawrence, up 
 that river to the great lakes, through the wilderness, to the 
 Mississippi, thence down to the Gulf of Mexico. To make 
 good their claims, they had erected at distant intervals, forts and 
 stockades, with the purpose of defending to the utmost these 
 wide domains, against all adverse claimants. The Spaniards 
 and the Dutch were less ambitious of conquest, or less able to 
 extend their settlements over the continent, and the controversy 
 
8 
 
 became more active and determined between two mighty nations, 
 rivals by position, and enemies by inheritance. The English, 
 claiming the territory, were determined to push their settlements 
 westward indefinitely, and at the same time to extend and defend 
 their frontier settlements in New England. The French were 
 not less resolute in maintaining their ground, determined to 
 arrest the further extension of the British Colonies, and hoping 
 even to drive them back into the Atlantic Ocean. Each nation 
 was eager to occupy new territory, to form settlements, and by 
 thus enlarging its domains, to strengthen the foundations, and 
 add to the dignity of the Imperial Government at home. The 
 good of the Colonies, we fear, was not so much at heart, as were 
 the honor and advantages of the home governments. These 
 nations had for centuries been accustomed to meet in deadly 
 strife, on the battle-fields of the old world ; now they meet in 
 less conspicuous, but not less sanguinary encounter in this west- 
 ern wilderness. The guerdon of victor v is not a villaoe or a 
 town, or a single city, but a co7itinent. To all appearance the 
 advantage is with the French, Entrenched for more. than a 
 century in their strongholds, accustomed to the wild and irreg- 
 ular warfare of the mountain and the forest, stimulated by relig- 
 ious zeal against the enemies of their country and the heretics of 
 their church, they hoped to make an easy conquest of the small 
 bands of emigrants scattered through the wilderness. Then they 
 had under their political and ecclesiastical control, a vast number 
 of savage warriors, who only needed the motives of gold and 
 plunder, whiskey and tobacco, to post them forth in any direc- 
 tion, on an expedition of blood and carnage. As many of them 
 had in form, adopted the Roman Catholic faith, the ardor of 
 religious fanaticism came in to intensify the natural ferocity of 
 the savage. The pi'iest blessed the Indian's tomahawk and 
 scalping-knife, and bade him God-speed in the work of destroying 
 heretics. Even crowned heads and royal hands urged on the 
 savage in the work of death. An Indian, whose hands were 
 deeply dyed in the blood of the English colonists, crossed the 
 ocean, and was honored by an interview with the king. Raising 
 his hand, he thus commended himself to the favorable regard of 
 his majesty : " This right hand alone has slain one hundred and 
 fifty of your majesty's enemies in New England." And the 
 
9 
 
 appeal was successful. In token of approval and admiration, 
 the French monarch conferred on the murderer the order of 
 kniijlithood, and endowed him with a pension for life. 
 
 The number of English people on the continent was indeed 
 much larger than that of the French, but they were settlers and 
 citizens, not warriors ; they lived in families, not as solitary 
 priests and soldiers ; they were scattered far and wide through 
 the land, not cooped up in forts military and ecclesiastical, and 
 they were obliged to cultivate the fields for subsistence, with few 
 walls or defences for the protection of their families. Not 
 soldiers by profession or by choice, but by a stern necessity ; 
 united by no political or ecclesiastical bond, they came to seek a 
 quiet home for themselves and their posterity. But by incessant 
 inroads upon their villages, by the murder or captivity of their 
 relatives and friends, the war lion within them was at length 
 fairly aroused. While the French believed that there coidd be 
 no peace in the land so long as the English were in it, the latter 
 were as confident that there would be no rest for them until 
 Canada should be conquered. Under the impulsive force of this 
 conviction, the colonists addressed themselves to the task with 
 united feelings and unwavering purpose. And though often 
 perplexed, and sometimes defeated, they toiled and suffered and 
 fought, until Canada was annexed to the British Crown. 
 
 Nor was it a question merely of pride or of prejudice. At 
 the foundation of the strife there lay principles of the highest 
 importance. On the surface, the controversy appeared in this 
 form — " Shall Great Britain or France bear rule over these broad 
 realms in North America ? " But a little penetration could dis- 
 cover the question assuming a different shape, viz : " Shall the 
 Saxon or the Celtic civilization impress itself upon the people of 
 this land ? " And viewing the subject from a religious stand- 
 point, it would be expressed thus : " Shall the religion of the 
 Pope, or the religion of Protestants, be the rule of thought and 
 of action for the teeming population yet to spread over the sur- 
 face of the New World." 
 
 Such were some of the great moral and political problems 
 connected with the early settlement of this country, and in the 
 solution of these problems the first settlers of Charlestown were 
 called to bear a part. Probably there was no place in New 
 
10 
 
 Hampshire, certainly none on Connecticut Eiver, in which were 
 concentrated so many public and social interests, as in the middle 
 of the last century clustered around this little spot called No. 4. 
 Those times demanded men of lofty patriotism, of unflinching 
 purpose, of patience in suffering, of fearlessness in danger ; and 
 the circumstances developed the men who were equal to the 
 demand, and they deserve our grateful recognition and most 
 respectful regards. Are heroes worthy of our remembrance? 
 There were men here whose abilities in councils of Avar, or wis- 
 dom in councils of state, and whose achievements, both in civil 
 and military life, were equal to those of multitudes who have 
 been celebrated in story and in song. Are great battles worthy 
 the encomiums of the orator, or the praises of the minstrel? 
 There was a conflict of arms here of several days' duration, not 
 indeed distinguished for the numbers engaged, nor for the pre- 
 vious fame of the opposing commanders, but for coolness and 
 courage on the part of the Americau captain, for sleepless vigi- 
 lance and military skill, for untiring devotion to duty, and calm 
 intrepidity in the face of appaling dangers, it is surpassed by few 
 of the great battles that have excited the admiration of the 
 world. Does this eulogy seem too highly colored? Let me 
 then justify it by a brief recital of the facts. The thickening 
 dangers from Indian depredations, had driven all the inhabitants 
 from the town ; the soldiers had been ordered to abandon the 
 fort, and for many months not a solitary human being remained 
 in the place. It seemed as if the progress of British settlements 
 must be arrested, and the territory on the Connecticut abandoned 
 to the French. But the Governor of Massachusetts determined 
 to make one more eflTort to save the place and territory to the 
 British crown, and accordingly he commanded Captain Phinehas 
 Stevens to march immediately to No. 4, with a company of 
 thirty men, and take possession of the fort. The order was 
 promptly obeyed, and on the 27th of March, 1747, Stevens 
 entered the fort with his little garrison, and, as the event proved, 
 he came none too soon. In less than ten days after his arrival 
 that little stockade fortress was surrounded by an army of excited 
 warriors, French and Indian, and variously estimated from 400 
 to 700. Fearful odds— 30 to 700 ; one to 23 ; or at the lowest 
 estimate, one to 13 ; or if we combine the numbers and take the 
 
11 
 
 medium, one to 18, and such enemies ! Some, well-trained 
 French soldiers, long accustomed to Avar, but the larger part 
 wild, infuriated savages, whose grotesque appearance and terrific 
 war-cry, and well-known habits of cruelty, had often sent chills 
 of terror to the stoutest hearts. And what were the defences of 
 that little band against such deadly foes and these formidable 
 numbers ? I can no where find a particular description of that 
 structure called a fort, but it must have been a common stockade, 
 consisting of poles or trunks of trees, about fourteen feet long 
 and ten or twelve inches in diameter, with one end in the ground, 
 and all united firmly together, and thus enclosing a space, it is 
 said, of three-fourths of an acre. And this frail structure, 
 united with personal valor, and resolute purpose, was all that 
 protected thirty men against six or seven hundred. But the 
 little citadel was closely invested, a simultaneous attack was made 
 on all sides, under the command of an experienced leader. Gen. 
 Debeline. Stevens and his brave little army sustained the shock 
 unharmed and unintimidated. Says the valiant captain in his 
 report: " The wind being very high, and everything exceeding- 
 dry, they set fire to all the old fences, and also to a log house 
 about forty rods distant from the fort, to the windward, so that 
 in a few minutes we were entirely surrounded by fire — all which 
 was performed with the most hideous shouting from all quarters, 
 which they continued in the most terrible manner till the next 
 day at ten o'clock at night, without intermission, and during this 
 time we had no opportunity to eat or to sleep. But notwith- 
 standing all their shoutings and threatenings, our men seemed 
 to be not in the least daunted, but fought with great resolution , 
 which undoubtedly gave the enemy reason to think that we had 
 determined to stand it out to the last de^cree." 
 
 As the fort did not take fire from the burning huts, barns and 
 fences, the enemy discharged burning arrows, that they might 
 give a permanent lodgment to the fire in the combustible mate- 
 rial of the fort. If the mode of assault was peculiar, the man- 
 ner of defence was not the less so. The soldiers dug deep 
 trenches beneath the stockade, through which they passed with 
 buckets of water, and extinguished the flames as they caught. 
 Fruitful in expedients, skillful and resolute in applying them to 
 practice, that miniature army were prepared at all points, and 
 
12 
 
 for any emergency. Nor was the invading foe destitute of 
 resources. French ingenuity devised a wheel carriage which 
 was filled with faggots, and various combustibles, and when well 
 on fire, was propelled towards the fort with the purpose of accom- 
 plishing what burning arrows had failed to do. It was an instru- 
 ment before unknown in the enginery of war, but full of peril 
 to the inmates of the fort. What must have been the feelings 
 of that little company within their slight defences of timber so 
 easily ignited, as they saw this moving mass of fire approaching 
 for their destruction, accompanied as it was by the unearthly 
 shrieks of the savages, and the triumphant shouts of French- 
 men, all anticipating an easy and certain victory. No reinforce- 
 ments could be expected, no retreat was possible. Death seemed 
 inevitable, and the alternative was given them, death by fire, or 
 to surrender and meet death at the hands of inhuman barbarians, 
 exasperated to the highest pitch of frenzy by the obstinacy of 
 the defence, and by the loss of several of their number, who had 
 fallen victims to the steady aim of the marksmen in the fort. 
 Their last hope of life was in defeating the enemy. 
 
 Calm even in view of tortures and death, Capt. Stevens 
 directed the mode of defence, animated his men by his own per- 
 sonal valor, and sustained their hopes by an assured belief that 
 they should achieve a victory. By such dauntless courage and 
 military skill, united with the prompt obedience and untiring 
 efforts of his brave men, this terrible assault by fire was also 
 defeated, and the despondent enemy withdrew a little for consul- 
 tation. 
 
 As the French General had exhausted his expedients for intim- 
 idation, he now has resource to negotiation, and invites Capt. 
 Stevens to an interview. Stevens listens courteously while 
 Debeline assures him that he had seven hundred men under his 
 command ; that they had become impatient and exasperated at 
 the obstinate defence, and if by further resistance, he should be 
 compelled to storm the fort, it would be followed by the frightful 
 massacre of the whole garrison. Stevens heard it all, and then, 
 with Spartan brevity and coolness, replied, " / can assitr-e you. 
 Sir, that my men are not afraid to die." 
 
 Strange that the Frenchman should have supposed that high 
 sounding words and vaporing threats, would intimidate the man 
 
13 
 
 whom musket balls and burning arrows, and brandished toma- 
 hawks, and fire and faggots, had failed to move. Capt. Stevens 
 and his band of heroes remained undaunted, while the enemy 
 renewed the attack with fresh vigor and determination, and per- 
 severed in their purpose for three days longer, but all in vain. 
 Savage ferocity and French ingenuity were alike baffled by the 
 cool courage and steady resistance of the garrison, and the dis- 
 heartened foe now proposes to abandon the siege and return to 
 Canada, provided the commander of the fort would sell them 
 provisions for the journey. Stevens instantly rejected the pro- 
 posal, but offered to give them five bushels of corn for every 
 prisoner they would return from captivity, but they must leave 
 with him hostages for the faithful fullfilment of the contract. 
 These terms were not acceptable to the French General, and 
 soon this formidable host, so sanguine of success, and so bois- 
 terous in their demonstrations a few days before, suddenly broke 
 up their camp, fired a parting salute in honor of the brave little 
 garrison, and took up their line of march for their homes in the 
 Northern forests. To convince the retreating foe that they were 
 neither exhausted in courage or ammunition, the Spartan band 
 returned the salute with a hearty good will. 
 
 In this conflict many of the assailants were slain, how many 
 is not known ; of the garrison, none were killed, and only two 
 slightly Avounded. We are full in the belief that this remarkable 
 event has not received the prominent place in history, to which 
 it is fairly entitled. Lconidas, with an army of 7,000, defended 
 the Straits of Thermopylae against the countless hosts of Xerxes, 
 until the enemy, by the aid of a traitor, found access to his rear, 
 and completely encompassed him ; then, disdaining to surrender, 
 he, with his Spartan band of 300, plunged into the midst of the 
 Persian host, and sold their lives at the dearest rate. This 
 event, so celebrated in history, derives its chief lustre from the 
 self-sacrifice of that band of heroes on the altar of their country. 
 Except for that self-immolation, I cannot see that the prowess of 
 Leonidas and his three hundred is worthy of higher admiration 
 than that of Stevens and his thirty. 
 
 Only seven years later than this event at No. 4, an encounter 
 took place in our own country, west of the Alleghany mountains, 
 in which George Washington bore a conspicuous part. He was 
 
14 
 
 then colonel of a regiment of the Provincial troops of Virginia, 
 having under his command 400 men. By a force of 1,600 
 French and Indians, he was driven into Fort Necessity, a stockade 
 defence probably quite similar to that which Stevens defended. 
 Washington and his men fought bravely, but the disparity in 
 numbers was great, four to one, and his defences frail ; he, 
 therefore accepted honorable terms of capitulation, surrendered 
 the fort, and led his men back through the wilderness, to Vir- 
 ginia. Stevens with odds against him as 18 to 1, and with 
 defences equally frail, resists all attacks, all military devices, all 
 overtures for surrender, and compels his enemy to abandon his 
 purpose, and retreat through the wilderness. 
 
 The immediate visible effects of the conflict were a triumphant 
 garrison on the one side, and a disappointed, discomfited enemy 
 on the other ; but there were results connected with it which the 
 eye could not see, which the wisest statesman of that period 
 could not anticipate. Plad the French succeeded it is quite prob- 
 able that they would have pursued the work of conquest down 
 the river, until they had driven the British settlers from' the valley 
 of the Connecticut. Other invasions and still more formidable 
 armies would have been organized in the French territory for the 
 conquest of New England. But when it was borne on the wings 
 of the wind, through the French settlements and among the 
 Indian tribes, that thirty men had for days and nights success- 
 fully resisted the military devices, the combined skill, and the 
 united assaults of seven hundred French and Indians, they 
 would come to the conclusion that these Englishmen were not 
 easily conquered. Who can tell then, whether, on the issue of 
 that siege, may not have depended the great question. Whether 
 the French or the English should be masters of this country ? 
 No one well read in the history of those times, will regard such 
 a supposition as chimerical or improbable. 
 
 The abilities for military command, disclosed in that critical 
 emergency, would, in these days, have procured for Capt. Ste- 
 vens the shoulder-straps of a Major-General. At the time his 
 services were appreciated by some, and especially by Sir Charles 
 Knowles, a British naval officer then at Boston. In token of his 
 admiration of cool courage and dexterous methods of defence, 
 he presented Capt. Stevens with an elegant silver-hilted sword, 
 
15 
 
 and for this noble act of Sir diaries, yonr town received the 
 name of Charlestovvn. Now is it not a little sinnular that the 
 name of him who could appreciate and admire the valorous deeds 
 of the connnander of that fort, is perpetuated in the name of 
 your town, while he who performed the deeds which excited the 
 admiration, has not even a tablet to tell to posterity the story of 
 his brave defence? In this age of monuments and memorial 
 halls, to those who deserved well of their country for bravery 
 and self-sacrifice, do not gratitude and simple justice require that 
 the name of Stevens should be remembered ? Citizens of 
 Charlestown, may a native of your town remind you, that in 
 April, 1872, will occur the 125th anniversary of that important 
 crisis in the history of this place, and may he suggest without 
 offence, that measures should be taken to do honor on that occa- 
 sion, to Capt, Stevens and his brave associates, who, by their 
 patriotic ardor, patient endurance, and courageous bearing, 
 delivered your town from the presence of a horde of murderous 
 savages, and drove them back to their homes in the northern 
 wilderness. 
 
 Other personages and other incidents in the early history of 
 this town, are not unworthy of commemoration. Severe trials 
 and hardships aAvait all emigrants who transfer their homes from 
 the comforts and privileges of civilized life, to the wildness and 
 roughness of the forest. SuflTerings are expected, and can in a 
 measure be provided for and mitigated ; but when war, and war 
 by ferocious savages, is added to the cup of sorrow, the emigrant 
 tastes the full bitterness of life's inheritance. From the time the 
 first three families arrived at No. 4, in 1740, to the establish- 
 ment of permanent peace, more than twenty years afterwards, a 
 few intervals excepted, the settlers were in danger by night and 
 by day, exposed to the tomahawk and scalping-knife of the 
 Indian. AVhen Nehemiah and his little band were engaged in 
 re-constructing the walls of Jesrusalem, their enemies determined 
 to defeat the purpose by whatever means they could command, 
 and thus made it necessary for the builders to be ever on their 
 guard. " So," says Nehemiah, " with one hand we wrought in 
 the work, and with the other we held a weapon." This finds a 
 parallel in the early settlement of Charlestown. The enemy was 
 ever at hand ; the emigrant must be ready to repel him. The 
 
16 
 
 farmer, while cultivating his little plat of ground, must have his 
 trusty weapon by his side ; the mechanic in his shop, kept his 
 loaded musket at hand ; a neighborly visit could not be made in 
 safety, unless this common weapon of defence was a companion. 
 Even when on the Sabbath, they repaired to the chapel for 
 peaceful worship, the weapon of war must not be left behind. 
 By day their path Avas beset by the murderous foe, and by night 
 he lurked around their dwellings, seeking to gain access that he 
 might plunder, capture or destroy. The savages were stimulated 
 to deeds of barbarous cruelty by the hope of gain, for they well 
 knew that prisoners and scalps would be purchased at a liberal 
 price, by their allies and employers, the French. 
 
 But particular facts and occurrences will probably present a 
 more vivid picture of the dangers of the people, and of the dis- 
 turbed condition of society, than can be exhibited by general 
 statements and descriptions. Among many incidents of trial 
 and exposure from Indian warfare, one is recorded which to us 
 might appear a little ludicrous, if it had not issued in a tragical 
 result. It seems that matrons and their daughters, in those 
 primitive times, were accustomed to milk the cows. This ne- 
 cessary domestic duty was sometimes attended with imminent 
 danger, and therefore the courageous women must be protected 
 in the service. Martial valor and a little courteous knight- 
 errantry promptly devised a method of defence. Major Willard 
 summons a company of soldiers, takes command in person, and 
 proceeds to the farm-yard. What was the order of march we 
 are not informed, but we can easily imagine it was that of a 
 hollow square, the females in the centre, marching with meas- 
 ured tread, to the post of duty. But with some the inquiry will 
 arise, why did not the men perform this important duty, and 
 save their mothers and sisters from the toil and exposure ? Two 
 reasons may be assigned. 1. It was not the fashion of those 
 times for men to milk. 2. The brave and resolute women of 
 the period desired, in all suitable ways, to share the hardships 
 and perils of border life with their husbands and brothers. They 
 shrunk from no duty, they excused themselves from no feminine 
 task, however trying, but were ready to face danger in all its 
 forms, and thus encourage the sterner sex to fight valiantly in 
 the cause of liberty and life. Shall they then surrender this 
 
17 
 
 traditional and prescriptive privilege of woman to the inexperience 
 and awkwardness of soldiers, because in the circumstances, it 
 Avas difficult and Ii;izardous? AVomanly pride would repel and 
 disdain the suggestion. They asked only to be [)rotccted. 
 
 The event justified the wisdom and foresight of Major Wil- 
 lard, in furnishing the milkmaids with a military escort, for this 
 seeming comedy was suddenly changed to painful tragedy ; the 
 lurking foe was there, ambushed in the barn, awaiting the 
 approach of the guard ; from his concealment he fired, and Seth 
 Putnam fdl — the first martyr of Charlestown. The dano-ors of 
 the Post continued to increase, and a company of cavalry was 
 sent for the protection of No. 4, under Capt. Payne. A dozen 
 or two of his men had the curiosity to see the place where Put- 
 nam was killed ; they were rushed upon by the savages, who, 
 from their hiding place, had been Avatching for the opportunity. 
 Capt. Stevens from the fort, saw the danger, and with his men 
 hastened to the rescue ; a bloody battle followed, in which five 
 were slain on each side ; the Indians were defeated, but they 
 carried into captivity one of the officers in command. 
 
 AYars, however, were not the only source of terror to these 
 early settlers ; " rumors of wars " were often as trying and ter- 
 rific as the sight of the actual conflict. Who could desire to 
 reside m a community that could produce a record like the fol- 
 lowing, from Mrs. Johnson's narrative : " The Indians were 
 reported to be on their march for our destruction, and our dis- 
 tance from sources of information, gave full latitude for exag- 
 geration of news before it reached our ears. The fears of the 
 night were horrible beyond description. While looking (by day) 
 from the window of my log-house, and seeing my neighbors 
 tread cautiously by each hedge and hillock, lest some secreted 
 savage might start forth to take their scalp, my fears would baffle 
 description. Alarms grew louder and louder, till our appre- 
 hensions were too strongly confirmed by the capture of a family 
 on Merrimack Piver. Imagination now saw and heard a thou- 
 sand Indians, and I never went round my own house without 
 first looking, with trembling caution, by each corner, to see if a 
 tomahawk was not raised for my destruction." 
 
 At this time it should be remembered, that the French and 
 English were at paace, and yet scalps and prisoners found a 
 
18 
 
 ready market in Canada. This hope of reward was the impelling 
 force that moved the savages to continue tlieir depredations upon 
 the border settlements of New Eno-land. Ao^ain thev visited 
 No. 4, and another bloody tragedy followed. Lieutenant Moses 
 Willard, Jr., with his son Moses, a lad of sixteen, went to a 
 corn-field a i'ew rods east of the present main street, to repair 
 fence. A fatal shot from an unseen enemy, instantly killed the 
 father. Seeing this the son ran for the fort, with two Indians in 
 close pursuit, and such a race has seldom been witnessed. A rise 
 of ground intervened; one of the savages vigorously pursued the 
 lad in his own tracks, while the other ran round the hill to inter- 
 cept him as he descer.ded. As the youth rose the eminence the 
 shaft of the pursuing foe lodged in his thigh, but did not bring 
 him to the ground ; perhaps it nerved him to desperate exertion, 
 for lie rushed onward, escaped both pursuers, and entered the 
 fort bleeding and faint, with the arrow still adhering to the 
 wound. That youth lived to advanced age, and raised a nume- 
 rous family, of whom your fellow-citizen, INIr. Levi Willard, still 
 survives. 
 
 Travelers who pass through your village, are accustomed to 
 admire its quiet beauty, its peaceful repose along the banks of 
 the Connecticut. This broad, extended street, these venerable, 
 majestic elms, the tokens of comfort and refinement that meet 
 the eye in every direction, all attract their attention, and call 
 forth expressions of admiration. Among the many pleasant vil- 
 lages scattered along the Connecticut valley, Charlestown is 
 placed in the foremost rank. But what a contrast between the 
 aspects of the village and the state of society to-day, and its 
 condition and appearance one hundred and twenty-six yeai's ago. 
 A young lady made a record of what she saw and heard on her 
 first visit to Charlestown, in 1744. It is this : — 
 
 " When I approached the town the first object that met my 
 eyes was a party of Indians holding a war-dance ; a cask of rum, 
 which the inhabitants had suffered them to partake of, had raised 
 their spirits to all the horrid yells and feats of distortion tliat 
 characterize the nation. I was chilled at the sight, and passed 
 tremblingly by. At this time Charlestown contained nine or ten 
 families, Avho lived in huts not far distant from each other. The 
 Indians were numerous, and associated in a friendly manner with 
 
19 
 
 the Avhitcs. It was the most northerly settlement on Connecticut 
 Kiver, and the adjacent conntry was terribly wild. A saw-mill 
 was erected, and the first boards were sawn while I was there ; 
 the inhabitants commemorated the event with a dance, which 
 took place on the new boards. In those days there was such a 
 mixture on the frontiers, of savages and settlers without estab- 
 lished laws to govern them, that the state of society cannot be 
 easily described. The inhabitants began to erect a fort, and 
 took some steps towards clearing their farms, but war checked 
 their industry." 
 
 From the fiicts and statements which we have given as speci- 
 mens of emigrant life in the forest, we can form only an imper- 
 fect idea of the privations and sufferings, the daily solicitudes 
 and protracted hardships of the men and women who laid the 
 foundations of civil institutions in these frontier settlements. 
 The liveliest imagination can scarcely form a picture of sorrow 
 and suffering that shall exceed the realities of authentic history. 
 It is well, occasionally, to recall these events, to review the cir- 
 cumstances and conditions of the early life of our forefathers, 
 that we may the better appreciate our peaceful homes and abun- 
 dant privileges, and feel more impressively the debt of gratitude 
 we owe them for suffering in our behalf. With these sentiments, 
 a few of us have erected a monument to the memory of our 
 ancestors, who bore a part in the trials of that period. We 
 would hand down to the future some testimonial of our respect, 
 some evidence of our high appreciation of their hardy enterprise, 
 their fortitude in suffering, their faithful discharge of duties in 
 circumstances of great difficulty and multiplied discouragements. 
 Neither learning nor official station, neither distinguished services 
 in military or civil life, nor Avealth nor power, entitle them to 
 any special honors at the hands of their posterity. They were 
 plain, industrious citizens, who came into the wilderness that 
 they might aid in subduing the forest, and planting the institu- 
 tions of civil life, ready to do or to bear whatever duties or 
 burdens divine Providence should impose upon them. The 
 couplet of Pope expresses, in poetic phrase, an important truth, 
 which finds many pertinent applications. 
 
 "Honor and sbaine from no condition rise, 
 Act well your part, there all the honor lies." 
 
20 
 
 '* Act well your part, ''^ in all circumstances and at all times, 
 in private life, in public life, in civil life and in religious life. 
 If this be the best criterion of character, the sure road to true 
 honor, then are untitled men and women often worthy of more 
 respect and grateful remembrance, than are many who have worn 
 crowns and coronets. Many of the early settlers of this town were 
 called to experience the full measure of savage ferocity. From 
 the year 1746, to the final surrender of the province of Canada to 
 the British in 1760, this town was exposed to the continual inva- 
 sions of the Indians. During this period not less than thirteen or 
 fourteen attacks were made ; fifteen citizens were killed, and about 
 thirty were carried into direful captivity. The event which 
 we commemorate occurred on the oOth of August, 1754, and 
 was a little distinguished from the other captures, by the number 
 of prisoners taken, and by their prolonged and vexatious captiv- 
 ity. One whole family, parents and children, and one member 
 from each of three other families, were in a moment swept from 
 their homes and friends, and subjected to the control of pitiless 
 barbarians. Scarcely had they entered the wilderness on their 
 doleful and comfortless march, when their wretchedness was 
 rendered yet more intense by the addition of another member to 
 the family. The records of trials and privations, numerous as 
 they are in this world of sorrow, can furnish but few instances 
 in the absence of personal torture, that surpass in variety and 
 intensity, the sufferings and hardships which these prisoners 
 were called to endure for three or more wearisome years. 
 
 But who were the persons called to this heritage of suffering ? 
 The Johnson family constituted the larger part of the captives. 
 James Johnson and his wife Susanna, their three children, Syl- 
 vanus, Susan and Polly, and Miriam Willard, sister to Mrs. 
 Johnson, Peter Labaree and Ebenezer Farnsworth. Of the 
 early history of James Johnson but little is known. A foreigner 
 by birth, he emigrated to this country without parents or rela- 
 tives, and was taken into the family of Col. Josiah Willard, 
 whose niece he subsequently married. From Gov. Shirley he 
 received the commission of Lieutenant. While residing in No. 
 4, he was for the most part engaged in trade ; after his return 
 from captivity he received a Captain's commission, and in 1758 
 wss killed at the battle of Ticonderosra. But the central figure 
 
21 
 
 in this group of captives, is preeminently and beyond doubt, 
 Mrs. Susanna (Willard) Johnson. From whatever point of view 
 we study her character, we discover the lineaments of a strong, 
 decided, sensible woman. Tiie education of those times was 
 restricted to narrow limits — the manners of the age were some- 
 what different from the delicacy and refinement of the nineteenth 
 century. Let each be judged by the standard of his own period. 
 Few women have been called to experience trials and sufferings 
 in greater variety or intensity, than those which fell to the lot of 
 Mrs. Johnson, and fewer still have left such a record of patience, 
 fortitude, and lofty feminine heroism, as an inheritance to their 
 children. Her character and deeds create history ; her graphic 
 pen records it. That little book, though small, has produced a 
 sensation in the world. It is a book of authority, is quoted 
 freely by all who have attempted to write the history of Charles- 
 town. Its statements have been called in question by some who 
 cannot understand that truth is often stranger than fiction. 
 Striking incidents now and then, are not unknown in the history 
 of every person, but a succession of marvellous occurrences and 
 strange adventures in the experience of the same individual, is 
 quite uncommon. But the facts connected with the extraordi- 
 nary history of Mrs. Johnson, are well attested by many who 
 could speak from personal knowledge. Her power of physical 
 endurance, her mental fortitude in the presence of crushing 
 sorrows and afflictions, and the buoyancy of spirits which seldom 
 forsook her, were known by her friends at the time, to be char- 
 acteristics of the woman. In a discourse preached at her funeral, 
 I find this sentence: "Her fortitude has been remarkable, and 
 to this, under the providence of God, perhaps, may be imputed 
 the preservation of her life through scenes the most unparalleled 
 which history affords. Where one would have survived, it is 
 more than probable that hundreds would have suffered death." 
 The name of Phinehas Stevens will go into history as the hero 
 of No. 4. On the same page let the name of Susanna Johnson 
 be written as the undisputed heroine of the place. 
 
 She was taken captive at the age of twenty-four. After her re- 
 turn from captivity, she resided most of the time in Charlestown, 
 having married Mr. John Hastings ; a daughter from this alli- 
 ance, became the wife of Mr. Stephen Hassam. Mrs. Johnson 
 
22 
 
 died in 1810, at the age of eighty years. The other captives all 
 returned in due time. Miss Willard married a clergyman, who 
 settled in Massachusetts. Sylvanus, the oldest child, and six 
 years old at the time of the captivity, was absent nearly four 
 years, most of the time among the savages. In this time he 
 acquired a knowledge of the Indian language and forgot his own, 
 and formed such an attachment to the simplicity of forest life, that 
 it continued in full strength through all his days, and he died at 
 the age of eighty-four. Says Dr. Crosby, "He retained to the 
 hour of his death, many, if not most of the feelings and customs 
 engrafted on his mind by his long residence with the aborigines." 
 There are many similar instances of this kind of attachment, 
 and they furnish an interesting problem for the solution of 
 philosophers. How is it that three years of wilderness life 
 effaced all impressions of the former six years, and produced 
 habits of thought and feeling, and action, so deep and strong, 
 that many years of subsequent life in the midst of the attractive 
 appliances of civilization, were insufficient to counteract them? 
 Three years of Indian life gain the mastery over eighty years 
 among civilized men. Will the students of human nature give 
 us an explanation of this remarkable fact ? 
 
 Susanna, the oldest daughter, was the last of the family to 
 return ; she had seen but little of savage life, but had been 
 well cared for, and politely educated by kind-hearted French 
 ladies, and when she reached her family in 1760, was an accom- 
 plished young lady. She married Capt. Samuel Wetherbee, 
 and became the mother of a numerous family. Polly married 
 Col. Timothy Bedel of Haverhill. Captive, the little stranger 
 who appeared in the wilderness, survived the roughness and wild 
 surroundings of her early cradling, grew up to womanhood, and 
 married Col. George Kimball. 
 
 The place from which this family was taken, was the north end 
 of the street, on the east side, near the residence of Mr. Fish. 
 Indeed, there are timbers iu his dwelling, said to have been a 
 part of the house from which the captives were taken. 
 
 It was early morning ; a small gathering of friends the 
 evenincr before, had induloed in water melons and exhilaratino; 
 beverages that were not uncommon in those primitive times, and 
 had prolonged their festivities to a late hour of the night, and in 
 
23 
 
 consequence they would have extended their slumbers far into 
 the day, had not a neighbor knocked at the door and aroused 
 theni from sleep. As the door was opened by Mr. .Johnson to 
 admit him, the Indians, hitherto concealed, rushed into the house 
 and made prisoners of the family, and hurried them away. They 
 made a slight halt to adjust their prisoners and plunder, on the 
 low ground north-east of the place where Mr. John Dinsmoor's 
 house stands ; then, after a march of three miles, they halted 
 again for breakfost. The exact place is still pointed out where 
 these wretched captives partook of their first meal under the 
 superintendence of Indian masters. We can well imagine that 
 that sorrowfid breakfast was in strange contrast with the festivities 
 of the previous evening. ^ 
 
 There were two other prisoners in this company, whom we 
 have not yet noticed. Peter Labaree was of French extraction, 
 descended from the Huguenots, who were driven from France, in 
 the religious persecutions. His first home, in this country, was 
 in Salem, Mass., where he married Ruth Putnam, and about the 
 year 1750 migrated to No. 4, and pursued his trade as a carpen- 
 ter. At an early hour on the 30th of August, 1754, he went 
 to the house of INIr. Johnson, to perform some service in the 
 way of his vocation, and was taken prisoner with the family. 
 He was accustomed to keep a journal . in which some entry Avas 
 made every day in the year, when circumstances would permit. 
 After his return fi'om captivity, he entered in that journal an 
 account of his journey to Montreal, his treatment while there, 
 up to the time of his final escape. He says they were carried 
 northward about seven miles, then crossed the river, and set out 
 for Crown Point. The second day they were detained about 
 ten hours, by the illness of Mrs. Johnson ; she was then put on 
 horseback, and the journey continued over hills and mountains 
 for several days, when they made a halt on the waters of Otter 
 Creek. The Indians went out to hunt, for they had killed and 
 eaten up the old horse, on which Mrs. Johnson rode over the 
 mountains, and they wei-e all beginning to be hungry. Having 
 crossed the main stream of Otter Creek, by the Great Falls in 
 Rutland, in a few hours they reached the Lake, and were received 
 the next day by the French very kindly. Their next point was 
 St. Francis, the home of the Indians. " Stayed here," says the 
 
m: 
 
 24 
 
 journal, "a few days, and then started for Montreal, and when 
 aiTived there I was sold for a slave. Went to the home of my 
 new master, and he took me to the interpreter to tell me tiiat he 
 had bought me from the Indians, and to ask me if I was able to 
 pay what he gave for me, which was 250 livres. I told him I 
 could, if I could get word to my friends. After Mr. Johnson 
 had permission to go home to obtain means to ransom himself 
 and family, I went to my master and asked him how much I 
 must pay for my ransom, and he said 500 livres. I told him 
 that when I first came it was but 250, and now I had wrought 
 for him three months it was double, and said I, what will it be 
 if I stay a year, will it be 1,000? He said he could not tell. 
 Then I thouMit I had better wait no lonoer, but embrace the 
 opportunity and send for the money by Mr. Johnson. 
 
 "Soon after I drew a petition, asking the Secretary-General if 
 I must pay the 500 livres, if it was according to the Christian 
 law that a white man should be taken in peaceable times and 
 sold as a slave. The General Secretary asked me to step into 
 another room, and then said, ' Mr. Labaree, the Christian law is 
 not in this country, but the Christian law of -this country is 
 what Mr. General says, that is the law here.'" Nothing was 
 heard from Mr. Johnson for several months, and as the French 
 supposed he did not intend to return, they treated the prisoners 
 with great severity. "But," says the record, "he came at 
 length and brought money to pay my redemption. After I had 
 paid, and asked the liberty to be sent home, they immediately 
 put Mr. Johnsoji into jail, and that put an end to our expecta- 
 tions for the present. And we were told that no such thing 
 could be granted to us, for the Governor who gave Mr. Johnson 
 the parole, had died during his absence, and with him had died 
 the bargain. Thus our hopes were frustrated for the present, 
 though they held out the promise until they had received our 
 money, then told us we could not be sent till there came a flag 
 of truce. So we were forced to content ourselves as well as we 
 could, and that was but poorly, for, after so many trials and 
 sufferings in this place, we are anxious to get away." 
 
 In such a state of mind, and after such repeated instances of 
 injustice and insincerity on the part of the Fi'ench, he very 
 naturally concluded to take the matter into his own hands and 
 
25 
 
 make his escape the first opportunity. It was a perilous under- 
 taking. Albany, N. Y. must l)e the first point of his destination, 
 and between that and Montreal, the j)lace of his departure, there 
 lay an interminable forest, traversed by mountains, intersected by 
 rivers and abounding in swamps and morasses, difficult, if not 
 impossible for a stranger to cross. It was also in early spring, 
 when the streams were swollen by the rains and dissolving snow. 
 The distance to Albany by the circuitous route he would be 
 compelled to travel could not be much less than five hundred 
 miles. Not a civilized man to give him food or fire or shelter, 
 but most of the journey would lead through the territorv of the 
 Indian tribes who were ever ready to capture, to scalp and to 
 kill the white man. The manifold hazards of the adventure 
 were not unknown to him, but what shall he do? For almost 
 three years he had been absent from his family, most of the time 
 overtasked with labor, deceived, defrauded, and so far as he 
 could see, this treatment and mode of life awaited him in future. 
 This was a powerful repelling force urging him away ; on the 
 other hand, his wife and children needed his presence and were 
 most anxious for his return, and this, added to the natural love 
 of personal liberty, drew him towards home with a power that 
 no common obstacles and no ordinary dangers could resist. 
 Knowing full well the perils of the enterprise, he plunged into 
 the forest, invoking the aid of Providence to direct his steps. 
 He traveled for the most part by night, guided by the stars, and 
 rested by day lest he should be discovered by the Indians ; his 
 food was roots and wild berries, and the uncooked flesh of such 
 animals as missiles from the hand could subdue, for the discharsre 
 of his fowling piece might attract the attention of the savages, 
 and was therefore seldom resorted to. Thus guided and 
 sustained, he pursued his long wearisome journey through the 
 forests to Albany, was conveyed thence to New York, and he 
 finally reached his home in No. 4, early in the winter of 1757, 
 after an absence of more than three years. In his Annals of 
 Charlestown, Dr. Crosby says, " Mr. Labaree made his escape 
 from Montreal, and after a long and tedious journey, durino- 
 three days of which he traveled through a swamp to avoid 
 discovery by the enemy, he arrive(l in New York nearly at the 
 same time with the other pi'isonera," Mrs. Johnson says, " My 
 
26 
 
 fellow prisoner Labaree had made his escape from the French 
 and had been in New York a few days before on his way home." 
 Mrs. Johnson arrived in New York from Montreal by way of 
 England on the tenth of December, 1757. 
 
 Shortly after his return, Peter Labaree purchased a large 
 tract of land about two miles north of this village, and about the 
 year 1760 took possession, and was at the time the most 
 northern settler on Connecticut River in New Hampshire. He 
 raised a large family, three sons and five daughters, and their 
 descendants, to the fifth and sixth generation, are found in 
 several of the States, in Canada and in distant lands. He died 
 in 1803 at the age of seventy-nine. 
 
 The other prisoner, Mr Ebenezer Farnsworth, reached home 
 some time before the other prisoners, but the circumstances of his 
 release and journey are not to my knowledge recorded. Three 
 brothers by the name of Farnsworth, were the first settlers of 
 Charlestown, from one of whom Ebenezer descended. He was 
 thirty years of age at the time of his captivity, and after his 
 return he settled on a farm in North Charlestown, where some 
 of his descendants still reside. He died in 1794, aged seventy 
 years. 
 
 Thus have we mentioned some of the facts connected with the 
 captivity of our friends, and some of the trials and sufferings 
 which they were called to endure, in variety and intensity not 
 often surpassed. Trials and horrors of savage captivity ; trials 
 in the wilderness and on the water ; trials of hunger, thirst and 
 cold ; trials in prisons, in slavery and constant fear from ene- 
 mies, and trials of anxiety for absent friends, besides the name- 
 less trials incident to their condition, which can neither be 
 described nor classified. But in these most peculiar and afflicting 
 circumstances, we are happy to know that they bore their deep 
 sorrows and heavy burdens with resignation to the divine will, 
 and addressed themselves to their new and strange duties with 
 promptness and fidelity, though not, perhaps, at all times with 
 cheerfulness. It has seemed to us a privilege to honor their 
 memories in a durable form, to commemorate the manly and 
 patient endurance of such unusual and complicated personal 
 trials. Long since they passed from the honors of this world, 
 
27 
 
 their work was done, their sufferings ended, and we trust they 
 were admitted to those mansions in the skies, "where the wicked 
 cease from troubling, and the weary are at rest." 
 
 At the close of the services iu the church, the audience formed in 
 procession, and, led by a band of music, moved to the cemetery, 
 uuder the direction of J. G. Briggs, Jr., Esq., where a few 
 additional remarks were made. Standing at the base of the struc- 
 ture, around which a large number of people were assembled. 
 Dr. Labaree spoke in substance as follows : 
 
 "My friends, you have gathered here, I suppose, to view the 
 Monument, and to witness the ceremonies of the Dedication. You 
 see before you, this plain, unpretending memorial, — -and in forming 
 your judgments of it you will please bear in mind the purpose for 
 which it is intended. We present it as a testimonial of our respect 
 and veneration for those relatives and friends, who were willing to 
 brave the hardships and dangers of the wilderness, that they might 
 change it into a garden, and establish the institutions of civilization 
 and Christianity. We judged, therefore, that a Monument, plain and 
 substantial, rather than ambitious and artistic, would best befit the 
 persons commemorated and the object in view. We hope you will 
 be able to pronounce it appropriate. 
 
 " The site will no doubt meet your approval. It is, you see, one 
 of the most attractive spots in this beautiful cemetery, and we feel 
 greatly indebted to the selectmen of Charlestown for their kindness 
 and liberality in granting a location so desirable. Our first and 
 strong impulse was to select a position near the place from which 
 the captives were taken, but arguments for the public cemetery pre- 
 vailed, and we are all well satisfied with our choice. 
 
 " Many of the persons interested in this Monument are strangers 
 to most of the citizens of Charlestown, and they desire to express 
 their thanks to those here who have aided in this enterprise. Mr. Levi 
 Willard and Rev. Mr. Saunderson have rendered very important 
 service in bringing the work to a consummation. Other individuals 
 have kindly encouraged the object; and, to-day, many have expressed 
 an unexpected and gratifying interest by assembling to listen to the 
 recital of facts and events in the early history of the town. The 
 
day, the occasion, the numerous audience, all tend to inspire us with 
 the spirit of thankfulness. Our thanks are especially due to the 
 church, which so generously granted us the use of its edifice, and to 
 the choir for their very acceptable performances ; and we must not 
 omit to thank the audience for their patient attention. 
 
 " It is quite common, I understand, to dedicate Wonuinexiis ; and 
 what is intended by such a ceremony ? In the minds of many, per- 
 haps of most, the word dedicate has only a religious meaning, and 
 refers to the act of consecrating a house of worship ; but it is used, 
 also, with secular signification, and in this sense, means merely to 
 point out the purposes for which the structure was intended, and the 
 uses to which it may be applied. Now, our earnest wishes are — that 
 this Monument may remind all w^ho behold it, of the debt of gratitude 
 they owe to those ancestors who voluntarily submitted to privations 
 and severe hardships, for the benefit of their children and posterity — 
 that it may excite a desire to become better acquainted with the facts 
 and principles of our early history — and especially that jt may awaken 
 in the hearts of all, by suggesting the contrast between the present 
 and the past, sentiments of gratitude to our Heavenly Father, for 
 the blessings of peace and plenty, of civil society and good govern^ 
 raent, and the established institutions of education and religion. Thus 
 it will become instructive, useful to mind and heart, and a constant 
 reminder of our obligations to our Divine Benefactor. To these 
 several purposes and good influences, we dedicate this Monument." 
 
 The choir sung a stanza, the benediction was pronounced, and after 
 the interchange of salutations and cordial greetings among friends, 
 the audience gradually retired, 
 
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