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 LIBRARY OF CONGRESS 
 
 DDOiiVsmasfi 
 
212tli K^^i^ei<sc\i<J ^'■^ 
 
 OF THE 
 
 Indian Attack on Hatfield, 
 
 AND FIELD-DAY OF THE 
 
 |}0tuti|littlt f alleg '^^watial ^$$adati0u, 
 
 AT 
 
 HATFIELD, MASSACHUSETTS, 
 
 Thursday, Sept. igth, 1889, 
 
 NORTHAMPTON, MASS.: 
 GAZETTE PRINTING COMPANY. 
 
 1«90. 
 
r^4 
 
 Committee of Arrangements. 
 
 Town Committee. 
 8. G. HUBBARD, Chairman, 
 E. A. HUBBARD, 
 W. H. DICKINSON, 
 D. W. WELLS, 
 THADDEUS GRAVES, 
 C. M. BARTON, Cor. Skc'y, 
 
 P. V. M. Asso. Com. 
 Rev. E. BUCKINGHAM, 
 JAS. M. CRAFTS, 
 J. JOHNSON, 
 SETH-B. CRAFTS, 
 S. G. HUBBARD. 
 
PREFACE 
 
 Several of the addresses which otherwise would appear in full 
 
 this pamphlet, were never written, and only meagre abstracts 
 
 . them are now to be had. Especially is this to be regretted 
 
 • he case of the address of the Rt. Rev. Bishop Huntington. 
 
 1 9W papers have been printed which did not form a part of 
 
 aa :ercises of Sept. 19th, because of their interest in connec- 
 
 tif^ with the events there considered. 
 
 ' aanks are due the Pocumtuck Valley Memorial Association 
 . cheir contributions to our local history, and for the interest 
 ' ich their field-day exercises have awakened. We are also in- 
 ,oted to Hon. Geo. Sheldon who has furnished for our use the 
 narrative of Jonathan Wells ; and to J. R. Trumbull for the 
 letter of Hope Atherton ; also to the family of Franklin Hough 
 of Louville, N. Y. , for permission to use certain papers belong- 
 ing to them which relate to the attacks on Hatfield and Deer- 
 field. 
 
 The completion of our work has been much delayed by the 
 illness and death of Mr. S. G. Hubbard, who projected the me- 
 morial exercises to which this pamphlet relates, and in which 
 he bore the most conspicuous part. We had relied upon him 
 to give form and accuracy to these records, but without his aid 
 we have done what we could to make the pamphlet fulfil the 
 purpose of those who wish its publication. 
 
 C. M. BARTON, 
 
 D. W. WELLS. 
 
Address of Welcome by Tliaddeus Graves. 
 
 Mr. President, Ladies and Geiitlemen, and menibers of the 
 Pocumtuck Valley Memorial Association. 
 
 Gentlemen: — I deem myself fortunate to have been selected to 
 extend to you on behalf of the town of Hatfield the cordial right 
 hand of welcome, for we are aware that it is owing to your tire- 
 less vigilence and zeal in a great measure that these memorial 
 services are held here to-day. You are an institution known 
 and honored, not only throughout this valley but the entire 
 state, both for what you are and what you have done. You have 
 labored incessantly, in season and out of season, to encourage 
 and promote careful research into old records, to the end that 
 the scattered threads of local history might be gathered and 
 rescued from oblivion, and that all relics and materials linking us 
 to the past should not only be preservec^ from destruction, but 
 rendered sacred. You have so elevated and instructed public 
 sentiment that the removal or destruction of an old landmark 
 like the old house at Deerfield would be no longer possible. 
 You have established at Deerfield a large and highly interesting 
 and instructive collection of curiosities, a perpetual monument 
 to the patience, perseverance and industry of those who have by 
 untiring effort brought it to its present state of perfection. 
 We bid you God-speed in your noble enterprise, and trust that 
 in the coming years you may succeed in imbuing this realistic 
 age with something of your own spirit, leading its attention from 
 the present and its enjoyments to fix it upon the past, its labors, 
 trials, and sacrifices. 
 
 We welcome you. Ladies and Gentlemen, our daughters and 
 sons, who have gone from us to settle elsewhere, and who have 
 
now come back to celebrate with us this anniversary. We thank 
 you for your presence and support, and trust in the future we 
 shall be able to enjoy more of your society than we have done in 
 the past. We bid you welcome home, at the same time assuring 
 you that the heart of the old mother has never changed toward 
 you, but has ever followed you lovingly in your wanderings, 
 glorying in your successes and taking pride in your prospei'ity. 
 
 We have, Ladies and Gentlemen, a historian by whom the 
 events of the day we celebrate will be thoroughly and ably re- 
 lated at length, and with no intentions of encroaching upon his 
 department, I still feel it not inappropriate for me, at the very 
 opening of these ceremonies, to place before you in few words, 
 the prominent incidents attending the Indian Massacre of 
 Sept. 19, 1677, and the subsequent rescue of the Captives, that 
 you may the better uhderstand and appreciate what will follow. 
 
 Two hundred and twelve years ago to-day, on a hazy Septem- 
 ber morning, the good people of Hatfield were engaged in their 
 usual occupations, the men had gone into the south meadow to 
 cut and stack the ripening corn, while their wives and daugh- 
 ters having finished their ordinary work were busy preparing 
 dinner for the men whose return was expected at the usual hour 
 of twelve o'clock. The children of which there was a goodly 
 number, were either playing about the doors of the humble 
 dwellings or watching their mothers at their work. All was 
 peace and security, no thought of danger disturbed even the 
 most timid. A pictuft of more secure and tranquil enjoyment 
 can hardly be imagined, when suddenly all is changed and the 
 security and happiness that has prevailed in this little village is 
 rudely broken by the fierce war-whoop of the savage as fifty 
 armed and painted warriors who had crawled noiselessly down 
 through Pudding Lane and finding nothing to oppose their 
 progress burst suddenly through the gate separating the lane 
 from the main street. They entered the northern part of the 
 town, not then enclosed within the protection of the palisade 
 that did not extend quite as far north as the present residence 
 of Silas G. Hubbard. In a moment all was terror and the wildest 
 confusion. The Indians quickly shot or dispatched with the 
 tomahawk those who songlit escape by flight, tlie rest were taken 
 prisoners, the houses and barns devoted to the torch and a scene 
 of wanton destruction followed. A portion of the band went 
 
north to destroy the homestead of Benjamin Waite, a noted 
 Indian scout and fighter, who then lived on the site now owned 
 by Jno. Knight, burned his buildings took his wife and children 
 captives and hastened to join the main body of their friends. 
 The men returned hurriedly from the field, warned of danger 
 by the clouds of smoke that rose from the ruined village. As 
 they approached the town an omiuous silence more oppressive 
 even than the shout of triumph seemed to enfold the devoted 
 town. Upon entering the street the full extent of their misfor- 
 tune burst upon them, for familiar as those rugged pioneers of 
 this early settlement were with the Indians and Indian warfare 
 the whole scene was at once present to their minds and they ex- 
 pected what upon search they found, the smouldering ashes of 
 houses and barns, thirteen mutilated bodies of the slain and the 
 rest, seventeen in number, gone into captivity, borne to the 
 almost trackless wilderness by a wiley, relentless and cruel foe. 
 But who were they who had so suddenly come so suddenly gone 
 to leave such utter desolation behind them ? None could answer. 
 Were they Mohawks from the west or some of the Northern 
 Indians ? None could tell. That night a meeting of citizens 
 was held within the palisades, a little body of stalwart men and 
 the whole matter was fully discussed. As a result of this meet- 
 ing Benjaniin Waite visited Albany and there ascertained that 
 the raid was not made by the Mohawk Indians. About this 
 time one of the captives, taken by this same band from Deerfield, 
 made his escape, returned to Deerfield and came thence to in- 
 form the citizens of Hatfield that their friends were in the hands 
 of the Northern Indians who were taking their captives to 
 Canada. Another meeting was now held, an appeal was drawn 
 up to the Governor of the Commonwealth for assistance. Two 
 men were selected to place this appeal before his Excellency. 
 Both men great sufferers from the raid, both in the prime of life. 
 One distinguished for his prowess, Benjamin Waite a noted Indian 
 scout and fighter, familiar with the woods, the Indians and their 
 habits and methods. A man of great endurance and fertile in 
 expedients. The other a man of great discretion, Stephen 
 Jennings, a thoughtful silent man but resolute, persevering and 
 patient, over whom obstacles had no influence save to increase 
 his determination. These two men were wholly unlike in ap- 
 pearance and character but admirably fitted to work together, 
 
8 
 
 each supplying the lack of the other. The inhabitants showed 
 their wisdom in their selection. About the middle of October, 
 nearly a month after the slaughter, these two humble farmers 
 clothed in the rough garb of their calling and the times, armed 
 with nothing but their trusty guns, turned their backs upon the 
 little village to travel a hundred miles on foot through rough 
 paths and wooded lanes to Boston. 
 
 In due time they placed the appeal before the Governor, but 
 a treasury at that time never too full, had been depleted by the 
 frequent calls to ward oflE Indian incursions and fight constantly 
 for existence with the numerous savage tribes that surrounded 
 them, and the Governor informed them with regret of his ina- 
 bility to give them pecuniary aid but gave them instead a letter 
 of recommendation and credit. The kind hearted Governor 
 further pointed out the dangers of the way, the well nigh insur- 
 mountable obstacles to be overcome by these two rough farmers 
 before reaching Canada, through an almost unbroken wilderness, 
 traversed only by bands of hostile Indians, and of the futility of 
 their journey should they reach their destination, seeking 
 captives from enemies with neither money nor valuables to give 
 in exchange. But they had determined to go to Canada ii they 
 went alone, and selected upon consultation the route west of the 
 Hudson river as being safest since it took them away from and 
 around the shorter path travelled by their more bitter enemies. 
 Bidding the Governor farewell they travelled to Albany one hun- 
 dred and fifty miles on foot and thence twenty miles to Sche- 
 nectady, but here the obtuse but susi:)icious Dutch authorities 
 seeing as they imagined in those way-worn travellers some great 
 danger to the state, arrested and sent them prisoners 150 miles 
 down the river to the city of New York and delivered them to 
 Governor Andros, a shrewd, keen man, who saw at a glance the 
 mistake of his Dutch assistants but not desiring to make it too 
 apparant, and being much occupied for some weeks, he neglected 
 these humble men and allowed them to be retained as prisoners. 
 But the matter being later urged upon his attention he set them 
 at liberty and gave them a letter of protection. Armed with 
 which they travelled backward 150 miles to the point where they 
 were arrested, here they procured two guides, a Frenchman and 
 an Indian to pilot them over the unfamiliar way northward. 
 The Frenchman soon deserted them. The Indian conducted 
 
9 
 
 them to Lake George, procured for them a canoe, pointed out 
 the way northward and was gone. These sturdy but way-worn 
 travellers have now made their way on foot over more than 500 
 miles of their rough journey and now find themselves alone 
 upon the shores of Lake George. Winter with its storms and 
 snows around them and the long unknown and trackless way be- 
 fore them. These must indeed have been heroic souls that could 
 have faced these trials undaunted, but they boldly pushed onward 
 over the lake, entered tiie untrodden forest, crossed Lake Cham- 
 plain on the ice, arrived at Canada to find their friends the prison- 
 ers alive. The remaining months of winter they spent in Canada, 
 ingratiated themselves into the confidence of the French and by 
 the aid of the letter of credit furnished them by the Governor of 
 Massachusetts, they obtained the release of all the captives, and 
 the following spring brought them with an escort of soldiers to 
 Albany near which place they were met by a delegation of citizens 
 from Hatfield bearing supplies who escorted them in triumph 
 home, which ends the brief account of one of the most heroic, 
 self-sacrificing and resolute exploits recorded in history. 
 
 Do you seek to know more of these heroes ? They both died 
 a violent death at the hands of the Lidians. Would you visit 
 their resting place ? It must be said of them, as was said of 
 the old law-giver of Israel, "No man knows their sepulchre." 
 But they need no "storied urn or animated bust" to render 
 illustrious their noble deeds, but rather, may they say in the 
 language of the Roman poet, " Exegi momimentum (ere peren- 
 imis." I have erected a monument more lasting than brass, 
 for the brazen monument or the marble pile, fretted with sculp- 
 tures from the moment of its erection seeks disintergration and 
 decay, and particle by particle, as century succeeds century, 
 under the resistless influence of gravitation seeks the common 
 level, to be scattered by the wind or trodden under the feet of 
 the careless ; while the heroic deeds of Benjamin Waite the 
 Indian scout, and Stephen Jennings the silent, embalmed in 
 memory of a grateful posterity, shall grow brighter and brighter 
 as generation follows generation, while time shall last or civili- 
 zation shall endure. 
 
Address of Hon. George Sheldon. 
 
 Mr. Chairman, Ladies and Gentlemen of Hatfield: 
 
 It has been said, that on occasions like this, men are moved 
 by sentiment only. Though these are the sneering words of a 
 scoffer, I accept and adopt them, as a fitting fact. 
 
 For what bonds are stronger than the ties of sentiment, and 
 what sentiment binds peoples or communities more firmly than 
 a consciousness of a common heritage, whose title was secured by 
 common toils, privations, and sufferings, and sealed with the 
 blood of brave men and women, a common ancestry. 
 
 The lives and deeds of Benjamin Waite, Samuel Allis and 
 Samuel Foote, are alike the heritage of Deerfield and Hatfield. 
 You gave them birth, or nurtured their manhood. Their life 
 blood sank into our soil, and their bodies turned to dust beneath 
 the verdant sod in our old God's Acre, hard by the fast flowing 
 Pocumtuck. Their names are engraved upon your hearts, while 
 we have enshrined them in our Memorial Hall, where they are 
 carved on enduring stone. 
 
 Other ties there are, more tender and personal, which bind 
 these two places together. In union is strength, and consid- 
 ering the almost countless unions between the men and women 
 of these towns, which the centuries have witnessed, it would 
 seem that a cable of old fashioned steel, forged on the glow- 
 ing anvil of the frontier blacksmith, could not bind our peoples 
 more strongly together than these invisible cords of sentiment, 
 reaching from heart to heart. It is this feeling of kinship, as 
 well as of veneration for our ancestors, which prompts the observ- 
 ance of this da}. May we mutually receive from it, kindly in- 
 spiration, moving us to its fitting celebration. 
 
 (10) 
 
11 
 
 In the name of the Pocumtuck Valley Memorial Association, 
 which I have the honor to represent, I thank you for this cheer- 
 ing welcome, so heartily and gracefully extended by your elo- 
 quent representative. Although this is our first excursion be- 
 yond the borders of Little Franklin, we have no where met a 
 more cordial greeting, although our only mission is, as the In- 
 dians would say, to " brighten tlie chain of friendship" and 
 freshen the spirit of reverence for a worthy ancestry. 
 
 We have held Field Meetings for the dedication of monu- 
 ments in memory of Moses Rice at Charlemont, of Nathaniel 
 Dickinson at Northfield, of Eunice Williams at Greenfield, and 
 of Memorial Hall in Deerfield. Meetings to celebrate the cen- 
 tennials at Sunderland and Leverett, the semi-centennial at 
 Erving, and the bi-centennials of the battles at Turners Falls 
 and Bloody Brook ; a meeting at Ashfield to mark the site of the 
 first stockade ; another at Coleraine, near the site of the first 
 grave yard — one object being to arouse a public sentiment which 
 should insure its rescue from neglect and desecration. As for 
 our visit to-day, we frankly say we have no ulterior designs upon 
 Hatfield. We know of no neglect to remedy, we have no sug 
 gestions to offer. But, if the outcome of this day's observance 
 should be the erection of a bronze statue of Benjamin Waite 
 leading little Sarah Coleman out of captivity, with a pedestal 
 representing in bas-relief Ashpelon, the chief, emerging with 
 her from the waters of Lake Champlain, it would be quite as 
 much as we expect. 
 
 I shall touch lightly upon those themes which naturally 
 fill the minds of this assembly. The orator of the day will 
 doubtless satisfy the demand for a full history of the events of 
 that disastrous morning we meet to commemorate. That he 
 has been an industriousfand faithful student, I can bear testi- 
 mony, and question not the results he brings you will be a truth- 
 ful presentation of facts ; facts which may be new to many of 
 this generation. Do not, therefore, shake your heads with 
 doubt, and do not be excited to wrath if some cherished family 
 traditions are found to have been varied a little, in passing from 
 mouth to ear, as one generation followed another in the van- 
 ished centuries. Nor even if they should turn out to have had 
 no foundation in fact, being pure romances from the brain of 
 some yarn telling, fun loving ancestor. Such tilings are not un- 
 
12 
 
 kuown. Traditions are valuable beyoud price, but they must 
 often be accepted with a pennyweight of allowance — yea, some- 
 times with a whole pound. 
 
 The later student has always the advantage. He has not only 
 the benefit of all former research, but also what dust encrusted 
 or mouldy manuscript from trunk, and closet, and leaky garret, 
 will yield up to his careful scrutiny. I shall not be surprised if 
 before I leave this stand I am tripped in some of my theories ; 
 if some of my conclusions are found untenable. Nor shall I be 
 grieved. Truth in history, before all things, is my aim and end. 
 If new matter be brought to light in the ransacking which this 
 meeting has prompted, let us hope no conservative hand will 
 withhold it from the public. In the case of very old papers, 
 have not the public, in a broad sense, a sort of joint ownership 
 in them, as trustees for future generations ? If not restrained 
 by excessive "modesty, I might remark, in a quiet aside, that ^oe 
 are the representatives of that future, and that Memorial Hall 
 is a safe and permanent place of deposit — but I refrain. 
 
 Thanking you again for this kindly greeting, I would add it 
 was no more than we had good reason to expect. Our fore- 
 fathers in the day of their need, found the people of Hatfield 
 most generous. Hospitable homes opened the doors wide to 
 shelter them, Avhen forced to flee from the wrath of the Indians 
 in Philip's war ; and again in the devastation of Feb. 29, 1704. 
 To the promptness and bravery of Hatfield men on that fateful 
 morning, it was largely due that a remnant of our people needed 
 any shelter, save that in the bosom of mother earth. 
 
 The events of that day are not likely to be treated by others, 
 and I trust it will not be considered an unfitting time, or this 
 an unresponsive assembly, before which to speak ,of those Hat- 
 field men, who, warned of our distress, took their lives in their 
 hands, mounted in hot haste and rode to the rescue. We have 
 no need to analyze the motives of these brave men. As they 
 rode witii headlong speed up the snowy Pocumtuck path, the 
 lurid light reddening the nortliern sky, and reflecting on the 
 white openings in the woods through which they sped, told too 
 well tlie dire disaster befalling their neighbors and their kin ; 
 and that was all they had need to know. 
 
 Faster and faster the panting steeds were urged, until in the 
 morning light, their riders saw a horrible scene of desolation 
 
13 
 
 and woe. Tali chimneys, with fire place and oven standing 
 naked, amid the glowing cellar, where had stood the settler's 
 home. Ruins of heavy timbered barns lay smoking about the 
 blackened hay mows, which still sent out fitful flashes of flame 
 with every eddy of the troubled air. Carcasses of cattle, sheep, 
 and swine scattered about upon the trampled and bloody snow, 
 where they were killed in wantonness or slaughtered for food. 
 And most ghastly sight of all, nude and mangled forms of 
 men, women and children, their neighbors, friends and kindred, 
 victims of a most hellish act of civilized France, lying where 
 their murderers left them on wintry beds of snow, which now 
 had taken on a crimson hue. 
 
 The foray of Ashpelon, in 1677, was an act of savages, the 
 last wave of Philip's war. It was a raid merely for plunder, and 
 by the code of Indian warfare, conducted with humanity. The 
 assault upon Deerfield was 72ot an act of international warfare. It 
 was 7iot an attempt of the Pocumtucks and Norwattucks to re- 
 cover the homes of their fathers. Probably not one of their 
 number was with the invaders. It was not an attempt to con- 
 quer territory. De Rouville, the commander, never for one 
 moment thought of holding the captured town for France. K"o, 
 it is clearly established that Gov. Vaudreiul sent his trusty offi- 
 cers of the Line, with a horde of blood-thirsty barbarians to 
 surprise and sack a New England village, and murder its sleep- 
 ing inhabitants, as a cold blooded act of French policy. It was 
 to show the northern Indians that the French were their friends, 
 able and willing to give them opportunities for gratifying their 
 natural propensity for blood and plunder, and thus to secure their 
 alliance. All the sentimental stories about this bloody raid be- 
 ing a grand and patriotic attempt of the Indians to revenge 
 their wrongs, recover their old hunting grounds and the graves 
 of their fathers, are pure fiction, and must vanish into thin air, 
 before the facts of history. 
 
 Your ancestors and mine, seeing and hearing the dreadful 
 sights and sounds, on their arrival at Deerfield, did not know — 
 nor did they need to know — these facts, to awaken their man- 
 hood, inflame their hearts, and nerve their arms. At the time 
 of their arrival, the main body of the enemy had drawn off with 
 their captives and booty across the river. Scattered bands 
 were engaged in wanton destruction of animals and property ; 
 
14 
 
 and a considerable body was still besieging the house of Benoni 
 Stebbins. These flew like chaff from the threshing floor before 
 the charge of the infuriated men from below, towards the main 
 body, which many never reached. Observing this charge, De 
 Rouville hastily threw his army into an ambuscade. The reck- 
 less daring of the pursuers, led, doubtless, by Sergeant Benja- 
 min Wuite, carried them into the trap, with fatal consequences. 
 Overpowered ten to one, our men retreated, fighting inch by 
 inch, to the fort. 
 
 No plumed and armoured knight, coursing with lance in rest, 
 or smiting with sword and mace a Paynim horde around the 
 walls of Jerusalem, showed more chivalric fire or nobler daring 
 than this brave band in homespun, fighting their pagan and 
 christian foes on Deerfield North Meadow, in the attempt to re- 
 venge the slain and rescue the miserable captives out of the 
 hands of the spoiler. 
 
 That my theme is not leading me so far as it might seem, 
 from the men and events of Sept. 19, 1677, will appear as a few 
 words are said connecting in a remarkable manner the actors and 
 victims of each occasion. I wish here to state clearly, that what 
 I have said of the Hatfield men applies as well to the men of 
 Hadley and Northampton, their comrades in the ride ; and to 
 the men of Deerfield who joined them on their arrival. Limit 
 of time compels a confinement in the brief personal notes which 
 follow, to those Hatfield men, who were of that troop which 
 rode up the dark valley, on the morning of Feb. 29, 1704. As 
 I cannot speak of them in order of merit, while each was eager 
 to be foremost, they will be named alphabetically. 
 
 First. Samuel Allis. — He knew that his mother and two sis- 
 ters were in the fated town, and the furious gallop, was a lag- 
 ging i)ace to his anxious fears ; and the discovery that she lay 
 dead and mangled among the ruins, and that they were captives 
 in the hands of barbarians, may have aroused him to that pitch 
 of fury which banished all prudence and carried him headlong 
 to his death in the fatal ambuscade. 
 
 Second. Samuel Belding.--E.e could not forget how the sav- 
 ages had murdered his mother at Hatfield, Sept. 19, 1677 ; nor 
 could his half brother, Richard Billings, who rode by his side, 
 equally eager to be avenged on the destroyers. But they could 
 not outride Natha7iiel Coleman, son of Dea. John Coleman, 
 
15 
 
 whose wife was killed Sept. 19, and whose daughter, Sarah Cole- 
 man, is the picturesque heroine of today's celebration. 
 
 Third. Ebenezer, Nathaniel and Samuel Dickinson. — Their 
 uncle, Obadiah Dickinson, was a captive of Sept. 19, the man 
 whom the savages, with a refinement of cruelty, unknown to 
 the Inquisition, compelled to lead his friend and companion, 
 old Sergt. Plympton, to the stake, soon after their arrival in 
 Canada. These young men could not be laggards in the race. 
 
 Neither could Samuel Field, remembering that his father had 
 been shot by prowling Indians at Hatfield ten years before ; nor 
 Benjatnin Field, a nephew of the murdered man. But Samuel 
 Field could not know how his whole future life was to be shaped 
 by the events of this day. While bravely fighting in the 
 meadow by the side of David Hoyt of Deerfield, one of the 
 seven defenders of the Benoni Stebbins's house, the latter fell. 
 Two years later Samuel married his widow, settled in Deerfield, 
 and became one of her most honored citizens. His sister Mary 
 married Jonathan Hoyt, of Deerfield, a brother of David, a 
 young captive of that sad day, and in the course of events be- 
 came my great great grandmother. 
 
 Samuel Foote. — His mother, Mary Foote, with two children, 
 was taken in Ashpelon's raid. His little sister Mary, after en- 
 during the hardships of the long miserable march, was mur- 
 dered in Canada. Was it the recollection of these cruel wrongs 
 which urged him to the fore front, where he bravely fell, fight- 
 ing with his face to the foe ? 
 
 Samuel Gillet. — He was one of the three children of widow 
 Hannah Gillet, who had been, on Sept. 19, 1677, five months 
 the wife of Stephen Jennings. She with two of her children 
 were carried captive. All were brought back by her husband 
 and Benjamin Waite the next spring, with the addition of her 
 new born daughter — Captivity Jennings, 
 
 John Graves. — His father was one of the slain of Sept. 19. 
 John was now a man of mature age with a wife and six children. 
 Prudent but brave, he was not backward in the contest. As he 
 warmed up in the pursuit across the meadows, he threw off his 
 belt, coat and waist-coat, which were lost in the retreat ; but he 
 was cool enough to pick up a blanket and a hatchet which had 
 been dropped by the Indians, whom they had driven in their 
 first onset. This man was the ancestor of him who, as your 
 
16 
 
 organ, welcomed us to Hatfield but now. I had some reason to 
 suppose that this Indian hatchet would figure prominently in 
 this welcome. To this we could take no exception, as it certain- 
 ly figured prominently in the reception long ago given his an- 
 cestor at Deerfield. Had this hatchet appeared on this plat- 
 form, with well established traditions how it had been preserved 
 in the Graves of his ancestral line for nine score years and five ; 
 in spite of my reputation hereabouts as an iconoclast, I could 
 not have the heart to send this to keep company with the " lit- 
 tle hatchet." of G. W. But as I too "cannot tell a lie," only 
 careful concealment would have been made of the fact that the 
 hatchet picked up by John Graves, was taken by the govern- 
 ment and sold for one shilling and sixpence. 
 
 John Marsh. — Two of this name were living in Hatfield at 
 this time, and our John cannot be certainly identified. But he 
 loas there and probably his double. A petition to the General 
 Court gives the name of John Marsh as one of the band of 
 fighters on the meadows. By another official list we find " John 
 Marsh and Sarah Dickinson, two Hatfield persons," named as 
 among the captives. Finding these two persons thus conjoined 
 by those who knew the facts, I have looked for some romantic 
 sequel to this untoward result of John and Sarah's unfortunate 
 visit to Deerfield and consequently to Canada. So far the 
 search has been fruitless, but I commend its continuance to 
 Johnson and the Marsh family. 
 
 Thomas Russell. — His mother and two brothers were killed 
 Sept. 19, when he was but four years old. The traditions of 
 this event must have come to him this morning with a new real- 
 ity, and nerved his arm for the desperate encounter. But he 
 came ofE safe, only to be killed while on a scout near Deerfield 
 the next year. 
 
 John and Joseph Smith were of the rescuing party, but of 
 the six Johns and five Josephs living at this date in Hatfield, 
 these two cannot be identified, and credit must be given to the 
 Smith family in general. The probabilities are, however, that 
 Joseph was the son of that John Smith who was killed by In- 
 dians on your meadow May 30, 1676, and the husband of Can- 
 ada Wait, daughter of Benjamin and Martha Wait, born in cap- 
 tivity, January, 1678. In this case, Joseph must have witnessed 
 the death of his father-in-law while fighting by his side. 
 
17 
 
 Benjamin Wait. — Yonr adopted son, the hero of to-day. 
 The ti listed guide of Capt. William Turner, on his march to 
 Peskeompskut, May 18, 1676. When his fellow guide, Expe- 
 rience Hinsdell, lost his head and his bearing, the next morning, 
 and led one party to destruction in the dark morass, our cool 
 headed hero led Capt. Turner's main body through the swarm- 
 ing savages, mad for revenge, and brought it safe to Hatfield. 
 The story of his peerless perseverance and his indomitable ener- 
 gy in the recovery of the captives of Sept. 19, will be told in 
 full by others. 
 
 John Wait, son of Benjamin, could not be far from the side 
 of his father. Little could he anticipate, as he looked upon the 
 desolation of Deerfield, that his daughter would marry one of 
 the rescued boys, and that hundreds with his blood in their 
 veins, would become prominent in the annals of reconstructed 
 Deerfield. 
 
 Daniel, John and Samuel, sons of Daniel Warner, must have 
 been full of anxiety for the safety of the family of their brother 
 Ebenezer, and their sister Lydia, with her two weeks old baby. 
 They found in the place of Ebenezer's comfortable home, a 
 glowing chasm ; and his whole family in the power of the red- 
 handed foe. Their sister with her baby was safe, and her 
 husband joined the brothers in the vain attempt to recover their 
 kindred. 
 
 Ladies and gentlemen, you and I have a direct and personal 
 interest in these men. Their blood flows in the veins of many I 
 see around me, and doubtless many a heart-beat has quickened 
 at the mention of tiieir names' and deeds. For myself I count 
 among them two direct ancestors. Twelve of allied blood fought 
 shoulder to shoulder with your ancestors on that fated day ; two 
 of whom left dead upon the field of honor, rest in the same grave 
 which holds the ashes of their unfortunate companions in arms 
 from Hatfield and. Hadley. What wonder if our blood grows 
 hot as we recall that day of horror. The life current of sixteen 
 of my kindred crimsoned the snow upon which their mangled 
 bodies had been rutlilessly flung, and twice that number were 
 captives in the hands of the marauders ; forlorn, desparing, 
 hopeless, destined to a march through the deep snows of the un- 
 broken forest to the far off Canada. 
 
 If these personalities seem obtrusive, bear in mind tliat I rep- 
 
18 
 
 resent not myself alone. My story is but the duplicate of that 
 which may be told by many who hear it. I speak for them also. 
 
 Mr. Chairman, Deerfield is indebted to Hatfield in other ways 
 besides those already noted. Not only for help in times of sore 
 need, but for reinforcements of men who became permanently 
 part of the home guard, our bulwark against our Northern foe 
 in later wars. Who among us can boast of better blood than 
 that which came with the Hatfield contingent ? We took from 
 you your last Hope of an Atherton family, and your whole stock 
 of Arms, and left not an Amsden ; we drew largely on your tribe 
 of Allis', also your Bardwells, Barnards, Beldings, Billings and 
 Browns ; of Clarys, Cowles and Crafts we took not a few. Your 
 Dickinsons made many a mark among us, but enough were evi- 
 dently left for seed. We took your last Evans, a strong delega- 
 tion of Frarys and divided your Fields. If we robbed your 
 Graves there was certainly a spared monument, but of your 
 Hawks we took every bird in the nest. Our Hicksons, Hoyts, 
 Hinsdales and Plimptons tarried on their wanderings awhile in 
 Hatfield, but whether they found you too good or too bad does 
 not appear. We drew but sparingly on the families of Kellogg, 
 Nash, Scott and Selden, but largely on that of Smith ; I believe 
 however this name did not become extinct here. We took and 
 so did the Indians, Quentin Stockwell, who figures so prominent- 
 ly in the events we commemorate. Our Warners and Whites 
 were of your stock, and of Wells we left you a scanty supply ; 
 but as water was not, as now, supposed to be the standard 
 beverage, it was a more serious thing when we took your whole 
 stock of Beers. 
 
 The advance of civilization in New England with a single and 
 marked exception — the movement from the Bay to the Connec- 
 ticut, in 1635 — has been up the valleys of hei' rivers. Is there 
 any other explanation for this migration from Hatfield to Deer- 
 field, with no returning current ? For I do not reccollect a 
 single family which went back, unless a case be made out foi' one 
 who can contradict me on the spot. We are too modest to claim 
 any advantage of our town over yours, and it appears that in one 
 thing essential we were lacking. 
 
 Now sir I stand ready to couch a lance in defence of the 
 women of Deerfield, against all comers, to maintain their beauty 
 and grace, their intelligence and industry to the last. Still, it 
 
19 
 
 is a noticeable fact that Deerfield men of old, in making matches 
 were in a habit of wooing and winning wives from among the 
 women of Hatfield, and I am not prepared to say that they could 
 have done better by staying at home — I mean the women. 
 Whether this historic fact be a reflection on the men of Hatfield 
 or the women of Deerfield — whether tlie women of Hatfield had 
 a habit of following after the men, or whether the men of Deer- 
 field naturally went back for *'the girl I left behind me," may 
 be considered as open questions. 
 
 I have looked forward to this meeting, Mr. Chairman, with 
 deep interest. In your grand welcome to our Association, as we 
 come among you to hold our annual Field Meeting, and in the 
 great crowd here gathered we see an awakening of that historic 
 spirit it is our mission to stimulate and encourage, and we take 
 it as a compliment on our success. Yours is an old historic 
 town, your citizens have taken a leading part among the " Gods 
 of the valley," in both politics and war, and I am glad to find 
 a revival among you concerning ''old times in the Connecticut 
 valley." 
 
 In closing I beg indulgence for still another allusion to my 
 personal interest in this occasion. As we recall the noble deeds 
 and commiserate the sorrows and sufferings of those involved 
 in the event we celebrate, you will all remember the hard lot 
 of Obadiah Dickinson, the Hatfield captive, who was forced to 
 lead Sergt. Plympton to the firey torment in Canada. In the 
 greetings of to-day I shall doubtless clasp hands with many of 
 his descendants. I can claim a kinship with them all, for I also 
 am a desendant of Obadiah Dickinson. 
 
 I have done to-day what I should allow no other one to do, I 
 have brought from Memorial Hall this little relic. It was placed 
 there for safe keeping by Edwin Bardwell of Whately, whose 
 life of usefulness and honor has since closed. It is what 
 remains of a little shoe, the eye sees nothing more — a little loorn 
 ragged shoe, its sole of leather, its top of stout red serge, 
 now torn and faded. How many a small shoe down at the heel 
 and with holes where the rosy toes have peeped out, has been 
 wet with the tears of a sorrowing mother, when taken from its 
 soft wrappings among her sacred treasures. But no mother 
 ever wept over this little shoe. Its wearer was motherless from 
 the hour our tale begins. What is the story held in trust by 
 
20 
 
 this precious ragged relic ? How the heart swells and the eyes 
 fill at its story. This is the one tangible object, so far as I can 
 learn, connecting this day directly with Sept. 19, 1677. The pa- 
 thetic tale it tells is of the long and terrible march of little Sarah 
 Coleman, daughter of Dea. John Coleman, a child of four years 
 and seven months, snatched from your midst 212 years ago this 
 day at aboul this hour. It tells of pattering footfalls on the 
 bare floor of Dea. Coleman's house which made glad a mother's 
 eai' as she was busy about her household cares on that bright — 
 that dark September morning. It tells of little laggard feet 
 shuffling through the brown leaves of October. Little feet en- 
 tangled with briars or held fast in the half frozen mire of bleak 
 November ; little stumbling feet benumbed by the frost of De- 
 cember. And when nature refused longer to endure the strain 
 and the worn waif sank exhausted on the snow or ice, of little 
 helpless feet dangling by the sides of the burly savage who bore 
 her, while her fingers froze as she clung to the straps fastening 
 his pack to his shoulders. What mother can keep back the 
 tears at the thought of her four-year-old darling being in the 
 place of Sarah Coleman ? But how little can she, or we, realize 
 the actual condition of the poor orphan child. Stunned by the 
 fierce war-wlioop, torn by a hideously painted Indian from the 
 arms of her mother, the last sight of whom as she lay weltering 
 in her blood, must ever haunt her sad eyes by day and fill her 
 dreams with horror. Exhausted by travel and lying at night 
 under the broad canopy of heaven on the cold ground, with 
 the noisome things of night creeping or flying about her. 
 What but the blessed sleep of childhood and the brave heart and 
 sound body inherited from her father, carried her through each 
 day's march of loneliness, longing and suffering, and gave her 
 strength for endurance to the end. 
 
 If there is any blood in my veins beside that of Ensign John 
 Sheldon, that should give me vigor and endurance and a realiz- 
 ing sense of what is meant by a march through the winter wilder- 
 ness to Canada, it is that which carried the wearer of this little 
 shoe over the long wearisome miles stretching away between 
 Hatfield and Canada. For I too inherit the blood of Deacon 
 John Coleman. 
 
Historical Address by Silas G. Hubbard. 
 
 The great mass of interesting material contained in the town 
 records, the colonial records of Massachusetts and New York, 
 together with documents, legal and ecclesiastical, and private 
 papers relating to events which occurred in Hatfield and men 
 who lived there, would make a large volume of material of great 
 interest and value. We have met to celebrate on this 212th an- 
 niversary, an event which enlisted the interest and sympathy of 
 every town in the Massachusetts colony in the year 1677. 
 
 Before proceeding with the story of Sept. 19th, it will be 
 proper to say a word about the tirst settlement of the town. 
 About the year 1035 a few brave. God-fearing and enterprising 
 men left their new and peaceful homes and settlements in the 
 vicinity of Boston and struck out boldly a hundred miles into 
 the western wilderness, taking with them their wives and chil- 
 dren. They planted settlements which soon after became the 
 towns of Wethersfield, Hartford and Windsor, on the banks of 
 the Connecticut. It was the first bold movement of the Pil- 
 grims to leave their secure position on the sea-girt shores of 
 Massachusetts Bay. The actual advance guard of the Anglo 
 Saxon race, who turned their faces toward the setting sun, and 
 commenced that grand march of civilization that was destined 
 never to stop until it had spanned a continent and established 
 a nation, the growth and the result of the principles and ideas 
 of the New England settlers, that long since has become the 
 wonder and admiration of the world. 
 
 Of the fifty-nine men who signed the agreement to settle the 
 unoccupied plantations in the Norwottuck Valley (now Hadley 
 and Hatfield), thirty-two lived in Hartford, twenty-one in 
 Wethersfield and six in Windsor, Conn. Those who wished to 
 
 (21) 
 
22 
 
 settle on the West side of the river, signed an agreement for 
 themselves to be dwellers there before Sept. 29, 16G1. The 
 West side for the first ten years was a part of the town of Had- 
 ley. Rev. John Enssell was the first pastor of the Hadley 
 chnrch. The settlement west of the river had, in a few years, 
 so increased that a division of Hadley appeared necessary, but 
 it was not accomplished until after a long contest with the Had- 
 ley peoi)le. The town of Hatfield was incorporated in May, 
 1670. Town officers were first chosen the following year. 
 About the same time liberty was granted by the Hampshire 
 Court to enter into church estate. The Rev. Hope Atherton, a 
 graduate of Harvard College, became the first minister and con- 
 tinued in the pastoral relation until his death in 1677, at the 
 age of thirty-three, from disease contracted by exposure and 
 hardship in the celebrated '' falls fight." 
 
 The Hatfield lands were mostly purchased from the Indian 
 chiefs Umponchalla and Qnonquont of the Norwottuck tribe. 
 The danger of attack from hostile Indian tribes which had been 
 early taught in the sad experience of Eastern New England 
 towns, had led to the location of settlers in villages for the bet- 
 ter protection afforded. 
 
 Each family here possessed a home lot containing from three 
 to eight acres, had lots assigned them in the meadows, and had 
 individual rights in all the other lands of the township in com- 
 mon with all the settlers. 
 
 The church, the school and the town meetings were their 
 cherished institutions. The By-laws of the town imposed a fine 
 on all the people for non-attendance at the church and the town 
 meetings. The first house was erected by Richard Fellows where 
 the house of Samuel Fellows Billings now stands, in 1660. 
 Thomas Meekins built the first grist-tnill the same year, where 
 the mill of Mr. Larkin now stands. The site of tlie first saw- 
 mill is now occupied by Shattuck's fire arms factory. First 
 child born in Hatfield, son of Nathaniel Dickinson, May 1, 
 1663. The first meeting house was built in 1670. Mr. Ather- 
 ton's house was built in 1671. 
 
 From April, 1673, until July, 1677, a period of more than 
 four years, there is a blank in the town records. This is unfor- 
 tunate, from the fact that the missing records must have in- 
 cluded important action of the town relating to grant of liome- 
 
23 
 
 steads, establishment of a scliool, disposal of the fund set apart 
 for the establishment of a college, appropriations and action of 
 the town on account of King Philip's war, and the three great 
 fights with Indians which occurred in 1G75 and 1G76, within the 
 town limits. 
 
 Unlike other towns in the colony at that early period, the peo- 
 ple of Hatfield made provision for the education of girls to- 
 gether with boys in the town schools. 
 
 I find the following record :--'' Jan. 13, 1G78. Tlie town 
 voted to give Thomas Hastings twenty pounds per year to teach 
 all such childi-en in the town that shall be sent to him to school, 
 to read and write according as their parents or masters shall see 
 cause, the money to be raised upon boys that are between six 
 years and twelve years old, and upon such girls as shall be sent 
 to school, and if at three pence })er week by the head, there 
 arise not sufficient to make the twenty pounds, the remainder 
 shall be raised as other rates of the town are raised." Similar 
 votes were passed in town meeting from year to year. In the 
 Assessors' record of sixty-six scholars in 1711, the names of 
 eighteen girls are given as school attendants with the boys. 
 
 It appears by the record that the first negroes who attended 
 school were named " Tobe Negro and Hampshire Negro," 
 Their names are recorded in the school list of 1713, and also in 
 1714. The town records show that the early settlers had ideas 
 of popular education in advance of the times in which they 
 lived. Thev made provision for tlie education not only of boys, 
 but of girls, and negro slaves, in the town school that was com- 
 mon to all alike, certainly a leveling of all distinctions in the 
 school. It appears also upon the town records that the ideas of 
 the settlers in regard to the importance and value of education 
 to their children, led them to seriously consider the matter of 
 cstablisliing a college as the following remarkable action of the 
 town appears to indicate ; — January 16, 1671. " The town hath 
 generally voted and agi'eed that the money given bv the town 
 with an intent to the promotion of the college, should be dis- 
 tributed to three ends — first, the promotion of the college afore- 
 said ; secondly, for the relief of some christian friends in neces- 
 sity ; and thirdly, for the furtherance of gathering a church 
 amongst us, and have left the power of distributing the same to 
 the counsel to receive the distribution for the college." Feb. 7, 
 
24 
 
 1671. ''Voted, that the town have manifested that they are 
 willing that the money engaged to be given toward the promo- 
 tion of the college, notwithstanding any former vote, should be 
 still put to the said work of promoting of the college." 
 
 What college, and whether to be located in Hatfield or some 
 other town, the record does not say. It none the less shows and 
 reveals a lofty ideal of duty, a spirit that has been developed by 
 their descendants also to establish institutions of learning for the 
 benefit of coming generations, and give them the facilities for a 
 higher education in this new world. During the first period of 
 fifty years from the settlement of the town, it is a fact worthy 
 of remark that more boys born in town during that period ac- 
 quired a college education than at any subsequent time of equal 
 length. Hezekiah Dickinson educated a son, Jonathan Dickin- 
 son, who became President of Princeton College, and his son, 
 a merchant in New York, endowed the college. Another son of 
 Hezekiah, Moses Dickinson, graduated at Yale and became a 
 settled pastor in New Jersey. Wm. Partridge and John Par- 
 tridge, sons of Col. Samuel Partridge, graduated at Harvard 
 College. William, Solomon and Elisha Williams, sons of Rev. 
 Wm. Williams, were college gradviates and the latter became 
 President of Yale College. The number of settlers who each 
 sent one son to college are quite numerous. John Hubbard sent 
 one son to Harvard and he became a settled minister at Concord, 
 ancestor of Hon. E. A. Hubbard. Four, at least, of his grand- 
 sons received a college education. 
 
 By the settlement of the people in villages better means were 
 available for the concentration of social influences. The con- 
 venience thus afforded for schools and religious worship have no 
 doubt had a powerful influence in moulding New England char- 
 acter. 
 
 The town was a miniature commonwealth, where affairs of the 
 colony as connected with interests of the town, were discussed 
 and acted upon. The many dangers by which they were sur- 
 rounded served to unite the people by mutual interest in the 
 common welfare. 
 
 Hatfield Main street was early partly surrounded by a line of 
 palisades, which afforded protection against the sudden attack 
 of savages. 
 
 In August, 1675, the four Indian tribes living upon the Con- 
 
25 
 
 necticut river began openly to show their desire to aid Philip of 
 Mt. Hope, then making war upon the colonists. The boldness 
 and success of his efforts tended to induce the river Indians to 
 unite their fortunes with him to destroy if possible all the settle- 
 ments in Hampshire County. 
 
 I shall have barely time to mention the three fights which oc- 
 curred in Hatfield during Philip's war. The first was called the 
 "Swamp fight." The location was Hopewell Swamp, now in 
 Whately. In this fight nine soldiers were slain. Azariah,- son 
 of Nathaniel Dickinson, and Richard Fellows, of Hatfield, were 
 among the number killed. 
 
 Deerfield and Northfield were soon after attacked and desola- 
 ted by the enemy, and Springfield became an object of ven- 
 geance, but although the scheme was favored by the treachery of 
 Indians who professed to be friendly to the English, their plans 
 were detected in season to prevent their full accomplishment. 
 
 The success of the Indians made them eager to continue the 
 work of destruction, and on the 19th of October they made a 
 second attack on Hatfield in great numbers. The town was 
 garrisoned by Captains Moseley and Poole, while a body of 
 troops at Hadley under Capt. Appleton, and another at North- 
 ampton under Major Treat, hastened to Hatfield, and after a 
 few hours of sharp fighting, the Indians were forced to retire, 
 after losing great numbers slain. The loss of the English was 
 ten men slain, of whom Hatfield lost two — Thomas Meekinsand 
 Nathaniel Collins. After this defeat in Hatfield the great body 
 of the Indians withdrew from this part of the country. 
 
 Hostilities continued in the settlements until winter, and 
 Deerfield having been mostly burned, was abandoned, and a 
 number of its settlers removed temporarily to Hatfield. Anx- 
 ious to secure the grain stacked in the Deerfield meadows which 
 escaped destruction, Capt. Lathrop with a party of men and 
 teams were sent to thrash the grain and bring it to headquar- 
 ters. When the party were returning they were ambuscaded on 
 the 18th of September at Bloody Brook by about 700 Indians, 
 and the captain and seventy-six men were killed. 
 
 In May, 1676, word was received that the Indians were plant- 
 ing at Deerfield and fishing at the Great Falls above that place, 
 since known as Turners Falls. After obtaining information 
 through Thomas Reed, an escaped prisoner, of tlie Indians at 
 
26 
 
 the Falls, it was determined to attack the Indians with what 
 soldiers could be raised in the river towns. This expedition was 
 an effort to dislodge the Indians from that threatening position, 
 which was the base of their supplies of food. About 160 men 
 from all the towns of Hampshire assembled at Hatfield May 18, 
 1676, under Capt. Wm. Turner and Capt. Samuel Holyoke. 
 Eev. Hope Atherton of Hatfield attended the troops as chap- 
 lain. Benjamin AVaite and 1^'xperience Hinsdale of Hatfield 
 were the guides. The general facts about the successful attack 
 and the disastrous retreat from the Falls are so familiar that it 
 is unnecessary at this time to give the details. Thirty-eight of 
 the English, including Capt. Turner, were killed, and all ex- 
 cepting one were killed on the retreat. Among the slain of Hat- 
 field men were Samuel Gillet, John Church, William Allis, Jr., 
 and Experience Hinsdale. The Indian loss was very great ; as 
 to the number, historians differ. From what I know of the 
 Bardwell accuracy, 1 am inclined to accept the count of their 
 ancestor, Robert Bardwell, who made the number of Indians 
 killed 230. Hatfield soldiers bore an honorable part in this bat- 
 tle, and Benjamin Waite was successful in avoiding the ambus- 
 cades of the enemy and led the soldiers that followed him to a 
 place of safety on the retreat. In commemoration of the battle 
 the Falls were called Turners Falls ever afterwards. 
 
 This event was followed in twelve days by a third Indian at- 
 tack on Hatfield by from four to five hundred Indians. Most of 
 the men were at work in the meadows, but the few that re- 
 mained made a spirited resistance. As many of the Indians 
 were occupied in plundering and destroying property, it gave 
 the settlers a good opportunity to rally within the fortifications. 
 A party of twenty-five resolute men came across the river from 
 Hadley, who fought their way from the ferry at Indian Hollow 
 up to Hatfield, losing five of their number killed near the south 
 end of Main street. The enemy were finally repulsed with 
 heavy loss, and this was the last engagement in the war in which 
 the Indians apjieared in numbers, or showed their accustomed 
 bravery. In this attack the enemy burned twelve houses and 
 barns outside the fortifications, killed many cattle, and drove 
 away nearly all the sheep. John Smith, one of the Hadley 
 party, who so nobly came to the rescue of Hatfield, was killed. 
 He was in the Falls fight twelve davs before, and was considered 
 
27 
 
 u young man of bright promise. His son, Joseph, settled in 
 Hiitfield and married Canada, the daughter of Benjamin Waite. 
 Tlie famous Hatfield Smiths were their descendants. 
 
 After the Falls fight the fortunes of war went hard with the 
 Indians, and the 12th of August King Philip of Mount Hope 
 was hunted down and killed. This important event was soon 
 followed by a peace with all the New England tribes, and the 
 colonies were left to realize the hardship of their losses, 
 strengthen their fortifications, rebuild their ruined homes, and 
 cultivate their wasted fields. 
 
 It will be remembered that during this war the home govern- 
 ments of New England and Canada were at peace, and were 
 withheld by treaties from favoring hostile enterprises against 
 each other. England had been at peace with France since 1668 
 and was not involved in war with that country until twelve years 
 after the event we are now to consider. 
 
 Frontenac, governor of Canada, received instructions from 
 his King, Louis XIV, to cultivate a good understanding with 
 the English and avoid any cause of complaint, still the relations 
 of the English and French in America were at no time cordial. 
 Rivalry for the possession of the Indian fur trade created jeal- 
 ousy and unfriendly feeling. In order to secure the profits of 
 this trade, there was a constant tendency of each party to make 
 dangerous alliances with Indian tiibes. The French had their 
 emissaries among the tribes, and drew large numbers, particu- 
 larly of the Mohawks, within their immediate influence, settling 
 them within sight of Montreal. The effect of war has a ten- 
 dency to cultivate a feeling of wrong and hatred towards tlie 
 victors. It was noticeable that for months after peace with the 
 Indians had been declared, the latter had not been seen about 
 their former haunts in the valley. When they were seen, sul- 
 lenness had taken the place of the former "netop" friendly 
 greeting. There was a foreboding that this nominal peace was 
 not sincere on the part of the Indians. Still the settlers did not 
 apprehend any immediate danger. The Indians had fled to 
 Canada, and if they should revisit the Valley with hostile in- 
 tent, their band would be few in number, there would be warn- 
 ing of their appi'oach so that they could be easily repelled. 
 Later events show that the French succeeded in fanning this 
 spirit of revenge towards the English in order to secure their 
 
28 
 
 own selfish purposes. This cherished feeling of revenge or some 
 morbid thirst for plunder, were motives sufficient for savages to 
 fall upon the frontier settlement. 
 
 A year had passed since the close of King Philip's war, and 
 the people of the settlement, relieved from their fears of a sav- 
 age foe, had in the early spring resumed their usual occupations. 
 Seed time and harvest had come and gone. Providence had 
 smiled upon their efforts, and their well filled barns contained 
 the substantial rewards of their labor. Nothing remained to be 
 done in the meadows but to harvest the golden corn and prepare 
 the ground for the crops of another season. It is natural for us 
 to picture that 19th of September, a bright, autumnal morning, 
 with the landscape made glorious with brilliant colors crowning 
 the hillsides and the Valley — a grand panorama of beavity to 
 feast the senses, such as are found at no other season of the vear. 
 A season conducive to peace ;ind quiet enjoyment. Suddenly a 
 shrill, prolonged and unearthly sound breaks upon the villagers. 
 They have heard it before, and know well in the past what that 
 blood thirsty savage cry means. It curdles the blood — it para- 
 lyzes the brain as it wildly rends the very air. It is that most 
 dreaded of all sounds, the war-whooj). Sec kow it benumbs the 
 senses and rivets the child to the spot where the horrid sound 
 arrested him, to fall an easy prey to the terrible savage arrayed 
 in war paint and feathers. None near to guard and protect the 
 home — to save the helpless mother and her little ones. The 
 brave father in the meadow has heard those ominous sounds, and 
 now sees the smoke of his burning buildings as he hurries on to 
 witness those terrible scenes of fire and blood. Too late. The 
 frightful work of butchery and ruin is accomplished. The 
 treacherous foe with the captives have made good their retreat 
 northward through the swamps, ready to employ their old tac- 
 tics to ambuscade any pursuing party. Benjamin Waite with 
 others reached the scene of desolation, only to find his house and 
 barn a smoking ruins ; but of his wife and children he could 
 find no trace. 
 
 The attack was made about 11 a. m., when the greater part of 
 the men were dispersed in the meadows, while several were em- 
 ployed but a few rods distant from the house of Benjamin Waite, 
 in building the house of John Graves, Jr., wliich he was soon 
 to occupy after his marriage to Sarah White, daughter of John 
 
29 
 
 White, Jr., a few months later. The attack was so sudden and 
 unexpected that his father, John Graves, and uncle, Isaac 
 Graves, with two other workmen were shot from the building. 
 All the other victims of this savage butchery were stricken down 
 at or near their own homes. 
 
 That afternoon of Sept. 19th was a time of terrible excite- 
 ment and overwhelming sorrow to the remaining inhabitants of 
 the town. They beheld the smoking ruins of three houses and 
 four well filled barns, which was but a small mattei in that day 
 of horrors. While some were caring for wounded women and 
 children, tlie bodies of twelve others were found mutilated and 
 stiffened in death. Among the number was Sergt. Isaac Graves 
 one of the selectmen, and his brother John Graves a leading cit- 
 izen. Mary, wife of selectman Samuel Belden, Hannah, wife of 
 Dea. John Coleman, Sarah, wife of Samuel Kellogg, Elizabeth, 
 daughter of John Wells. Thirteen homes had been invaded, 
 and from one to four of the inmates of each had either been 
 killed or carried away captives. Seventeen captives were taken, 
 and their names are given as follows : Sarah Coleman, four 
 years, and another child of Dea. Coleman ; Martha, wife of 
 Benjamin Waite, and lier daughters, Mary six, Martha four, and 
 Sarah two years ; Mary, wife of Samuel Foote, an infant son 
 and a daughter Mary of three years ; Hannah, wife of 
 Stephen Jennings, and her two children by a former husband, 
 Samuel Gillet, who was killed at the Falls tight ; Obadiah Dick- 
 inson and one child ; Samuel Kellogg, Jr., aged eight; Abigail, 
 six, daughter of Capt. John Allis ; and Abigail Bartholemew 
 formerly of Deerfield. 
 
 It was soon learned that the savages marched to Deerfield that 
 afternoon, attacked the few settlers who were there to rebuild 
 their homes made desolate during the late war. John Root was 
 taken and killed, Sergt. John Plympton, Quintin Stockwell, 
 BenoniStebbins, and Samuel Russell aged nine, were taken 
 prisoners. After gathering such plunder as they could carry 
 away from Deerfield with eleven horses, the savages withdrew 
 and joined the Hatfield captives on the East side of Deerfield 
 mountain, camped for the night, and in the morning took up 
 their slow and painful march northward. The party that sur- 
 prised Hatfield numbered about fifty Indians under the com- 
 mand of Ashpelon, a chief, who evidently possessed some of the 
 
30 
 
 noblest traits of the red men, and some of the captives had feel- 
 ings of gratitude for his kind and humane intervention to pre- 
 vent the cruel tortures that the other chiefs were disposed to in- 
 flict on the captives. Si)eldon in his uni)ublished history of 
 Deerfield, says : " When Ashpelon left Canada a party of Nip- 
 munks were in company. At some point on the route they 
 parted from him apparently fixing upon Nashua Ponds as a ren- 
 dezvous. The same day on which Ashpelon struck Hatfield, 
 the Nipmunks reached the place where Wonolanset, a man of 
 influence with eight men and some fifty women, lived. He was 
 a Pennacook sachem, who had remained neutral through 
 Philip's war, and at this time supposed to be on friendly terms 
 with the English. Partly by persuasion and partly by force, he 
 was induced to join the river Indians and remove with them to 
 Canada, from whence he never returned. The whole party 
 moved towards Lancaster. Meanwhile Ashpelon sent messen- 
 gers to notify the Nipmunks to join him on the Connecticut. 
 With these went Benoni Stebbins. On the return of the party^ 
 Stebbins escaped about Oct. 2d, from a point near Templeton, 
 and reached Hadley two days later. As the consequence of this 
 act the remaining English prisoners were in danger of the 
 threatened torture, and it was only through the intervention 
 and policy of Ashpelon that this fate was averted. A short time 
 before the Indians taken at Hadley had returned, and the ques- 
 tion of the meeting at Hadley (in reference to the redemption of 
 the captives) for Avhich they had arranged was under discussion. 
 The captives urged it, Ashpelon was in favor of it, and it was 
 proposed to send Wonalonset as agent, but the Nipmunk sach- 
 ems were opposed. ' They were willing to meet the English in- 
 deed, but only to fight and take them.' The peace policy being 
 overruled, Ashpelon advised the captives ' not to speak a word 
 more to further the matter, for mischief would come of it. ' " 
 
 At this period there was trouble between the Mohawks and the 
 Christian Indians on account of the neglect of the latter to pay 
 tribute to the warlike lords of the Mohawk Valley. Six Mo- 
 hawks, fully armed, had been seized while hunting in the vicin- 
 ity of Charles river and thrown into prison. A party of Mo- 
 hawks with a scalp and two Natick Squaws on their return, 
 passed the night of Sept. 18th in Hatfield. The Natick Indians 
 had been allies of the English during the late war. Taking 
 
31 
 
 these circumstances together, tlie conclusion was quite natural 
 that the massacre in Hatfield was the work of Mohawks. Ben- 
 jamin Waite, although distracted with grief over the loss of all 
 he held dear on earth, did not give up to despair. He acted 
 promptly. He immediately hastened to Alhany to learn what 
 he could. He returned with the assurance that the New York 
 Indians were innocent of the affair, and he so reported to Maj. 
 Pynchon of Springfield. The news of this Hatfield raid spread 
 rapidly through the Colony, and when Benoni Stehbins had es- 
 caped and returned with intelligence from the captives, interest 
 iu using the best method to rescue the prisoners was greatly in- 
 creased. Stebbins brought definite information. The Indians 
 under Ashpelon were Norwottucks — river Indians that had fled 
 to Canada after the late war. Major Pynchon acted promptly. 
 He wrote a letter and sent it by post to Albany. He urged the 
 commander to incite the Mohawks to pursue Ashpelon's maraud- 
 ing party, ''their old enemy and ours," with a promise of re- 
 ward for the service. " Ben. Waite (he says) has gone home 
 before the intelligence (from Stebbins) came to me." "He 
 talked of going to Canada before, and I suppose will be rather 
 Forward to it now, than Backward." This grim humor of 
 Pynchon embodies a high tribute to Waite's sagacity in deciding 
 upon the right course of action, even before Stebbins had been 
 heard from. It was the plan which he afterwards carried out so 
 successfully. Waite's plan for visiting Canada to recover the 
 captives was soon arranged. In answer to a petition from the 
 town of Hatfield for aid in this enterprise, the General Court on 
 the 22d of October issued an order for the purpose, and resolved 
 that the expenses attending it should be defrayed by tlie Colony. 
 (Records of Mass. vol. 168.) Waite carried the petition to Bos- 
 ton and was commissioned by the governor and council to carry 
 out the scheme. 
 
 AVith this one object in mind, neither distance, climate, an 
 unknown pathway through the wilderness, nor savage foe had 
 any terrors for him. Stephen Jennings, a kindred spirit, be- 
 reaved also of wife and children, joined Waite in the knightly 
 expedition, the forlorn hope, and the first to attempt the rescue 
 of captured settlers in Canada. 
 
 With letters for the authorities iu Albany and Canada, the 
 men left Hatfield Oct. 24, and reached Albany the 30th. They 
 
32 
 
 were coldly received by Captain Salisbury, the commanding offi- 
 cer, and commanded to wait upon him again. The impatient 
 men could not wait, besides they were armed with superior au- 
 thority from the governor of Mass. Not thinking of giving 
 offence to Englishmen, their own countrymen whose sympathies 
 should naturally be enlisted in this their mission of love and 
 duty, they immediately pushed on to Schenectady to procure an 
 Indian guide. Here the old Jealousy of New England appeared, 
 and upon a stupid pretext, they were arrested, sent back to 
 Albany and thence sent to New York for examination before the 
 governor of tlie New York Colony. After hearing the explana- 
 tions and story of the agents Waite and Jennings, the complaint 
 was soon dismissed, the sympathy of the officials was enlisted 
 and they were sent back with instructions to Capt. Salisbury at 
 Albany not to interfere with them again, but rather aid them on 
 their way. This cruel delay prevented their progress beyond 
 Albany until Dec. 10. Four weeks at least of their precious 
 time had been sacrificed to smooth the ruffled dignity of the 
 Albany captain. 
 
 Securing with some difficulty a Mohawk guide, upon whom 
 they could rely, they proceeded to Lake George, where the In- 
 dian guide left them after making a rude sketch of the way 
 through a wilderness which was then unknown to the English 
 They found a canoe at the head of the lake and crossed to its 
 outlet in three days and carried their craft three miles across the 
 portage to the west shore of Lake Champlain. 'J'his path led 
 across the spot where Fort Ticonderoga was afterwards built. 
 
 ■J'his point was reached on the IGth of December. The ice 
 had not yet formed sufficiently to support them, and after try- 
 ing to advance in this manner, they returned after one day's 
 journey, and carried their canoe forward to the open waters of 
 the lake. Here they were wind bound six days, and unable to 
 make any progress. Their provisions were now exhausted, and 
 had they not killed some raccoons found in a hollow tree near 
 the shore, they would liave suffered the utmost extremity of 
 want. On their way they found a bag of biscuit and some 
 brandy in a deserted wigwam that had probably been left by a 
 Canadian iiunter, and at length they arrived at the frontier 
 French town of Chamblee, then a settlement of ten houses, on 
 the 6rh of January. They found Jennings' wife on their way 
 
33 
 
 to Sorel and five others of the captives at that place, several of 
 whom had been pawned to the French for liquor. They here 
 learned that the remaining prisoners were with the Indians not 
 far distant, excepting a little daughter of Mrs. Foote and Sam- 
 uel Russell, who had been put to death by the savages, the lat- 
 ter after their arrival in Canada. Mrs. Waite had added a little 
 daughter to the number of captives, whom she called Canada. 
 Sergeant Plympton of Decrfield had been burned at the stake 
 near Chamblee. Obadiah Dickinson of Hatfield, another cap- 
 tive, had been compelled to lead him out to his terrible death. 
 From the surviving prisoners they learned the details of the 
 hardships of the march, the horrible scenes and the torture of 
 forebodings that this band of mothers and children had wit- 
 nessed and felt. During the whole of this period they were in 
 iminent danger and constant fear of suffering the worst tortures 
 that savage ferocity could inflict. All this they were repeatedly 
 threatened, and had witnessed their infliction upon an aged 
 man who had been their fellow prisoner. 
 
 They were often upon the point of starvation, and towards 
 the close of the journey were exposed without adequate clothing 
 to the rigors of a northern winter. About 300 miles above 
 Northfield the party had divided and crossed over to Lake 
 Champlain, arriving after intense suffering at the frontier set- 
 tlements of the French. Waite and Jennings found it necessary 
 to secure the assistance of the French governor to obtain the 
 prisoners, and accordingly pushed on to Quebec, where they 
 were kindly received and assisted in getting the surviving cap- 
 tives together. They were ransomed from the Indians by the 
 payment of 200 pounds, but remained in Canada until the ap- 
 proach of spring. In the meantime Mrs. Jennings added a 
 daughter to the little company, and she called her name Cap- 
 tivity. 
 
 The cruel sufferings of the captives during that painful jour- 
 ney of over three months have been graphically detailed in the 
 following narrative of Quintin Stockwell one of the Deerfield 
 captives : — 
 
 • It fortunately happened at this juncture that Count de Fron- 
 tenac, governor of Canada, had occasion to ask a favor of the 
 Englisli governor at Boston. When the arrangement for ran- 
 soming the captives was completed, Frontenac sent two mes- 
 3 
 
34 
 
 sengers to Albany, who arrived there March 2d, with intelli- 
 gence of the safe arrival of Waite and Jennings, their success, 
 the condition of their captives, and their probable return in 
 May. This intelligence was forwarded to Major Pynchon early 
 in March and sent to Hatfield. 
 
 On the return of the agents with the ransomed captives, they 
 were furnished with an escort of eleven men under the com- 
 mand of Cai^t. De Lusigney. They set out on the 19th of 
 April, 1678, traveling slowly, stopping to hunt as occasion re- 
 quired, they occupied sixteen days in going through the lake. 
 Two days more brought them across the portage to the Hudson, 
 and on the 22d of May they arrived safely in Albany. 
 
 From Albany the following letters were written and forwarded 
 by messenger : — 
 
 stockwell's letter. 
 
 Albany, May 22, 1678. 
 "Loving Wife: — Having now opportunity to remember my 
 kind love to thee and our child and the rest of our friends, 
 though we met with great afflictions and trouble since I see thee 
 last, yet here is now opportunity of joy and thanksgiving to 
 God, that we are now pretty well and in a hopeful way to see 
 the faces of one another before we take our final farewell of this 
 present world. Likewise God hath raised up friends amongst 
 our enemies, and there is but three of us dead of all those that 
 were taken away — Sergt. Plimpton, Samuel Kussell and Sam- 
 uel Foote's daughter. So I conclude being in haste, and rest 
 your most affectionate husband till death makes a separation. 
 
 QUINTIN StOCKWELL." 
 BENJAMIN WAITE's LETTER. 
 
 Albany, May 23, 1678. 
 "To my loving friends in Hatfield: — These few lines are to let 
 you understand that we are arrived in Albany now with the cap- 
 tives, and we now stand in need of assistance for my charges i& 
 very great and heavy, and therefore any that have any love to 
 our condition let it move them to come and help us in this strait. 
 Three of the captives are murdered — old Goodman Plympton, 
 Samuel Foote's daughter, Samuel Russell. All the rest are 
 
35 
 
 alive and well, and now at Albany, namely, Obediah Dickinson 
 and his cliild, Mary Foot and her child, Hannah Jennings and 
 tliree children, Abbigail AUis, Abbigail Bartholomew, Good- 
 man Coleman's children, Samuel Kellogg, my wife and fonr 
 children and Qiiintin Stockwell. I pray you hasten the matter, 
 for it requireth great haste. Stay not for the Sabbath, no shoe- 
 ing of horses. We shall endeavor to meet you at Canterhook 
 (Kinderhook) it may be at Housatonock. We must come very 
 softly because of our wives and children. I pray you hasten 
 them, stay not night or day, for the matter requireth haste. 
 Bring provisions with you for us. 
 
 Your loving kinsman, 
 
 Benjamin Waite. 
 At Albany written from mine own hand. As I have been 
 affected to yours all that were fatherless, be affected to me now, 
 and hasten the matter and stay not, and ease me of my charges. 
 You shall not need to be afraid of any enemies," 
 
 Intelligence of the safe arrival and success of the agents in 
 Canada had been received at Albany early in March. Timothy 
 Cooper, of the Council at Albany, wrote Major Pynchon the 
 full particulars and the good news was probably forwarded by 
 him to the people of Hatfield about that time. 
 
 The company tarried at Albany from Wednesday until Mon- 
 day when they set out on foot, and at Kinderhook about twenty 
 miles distant, were relieved by horses that had been sent forward 
 from Hatfield upon receiving news of their approach. At West- 
 field they were met by their friends and neighbors from Hatfield 
 and their passage homeward was nothing short of a triumphal 
 procession. Every neighborhood turned out to welcome the re- 
 turning captives and shared with enthusiasm in the general re- 
 joicing. Five of the French escort went on with the party, and 
 continued their journey to Boston, having business with the gov- 
 ernment respecting some of their own nation who were said to 
 have been brought into that port as prisoners. The other six 
 of the escort remained in Albanv awaiting the return of their 
 companions, and were in the mean time enjoying the hospitali- 
 ties of the town. 
 
 The letters of Waite and Stockwell were copied by Samuel 
 Partridge (then a young man of thirty-two) and forwarded to 
 
36 
 
 Medford, and the Rev. John Wilson of that town immediately 
 sent them to Gov. Leverett at Boston. The 6th day of June 
 had been previously appointed as a. day of fasting and humilia- 
 tion. After receiving these letters, the governor issued an ad- 
 ditional notice to the public May 30th. He stated that great 
 charges would arise for the redemption of the captives, com- 
 mended the case to the people of the several towns, and invited 
 them to make contributions in all the churches on that day. 
 " For the quickening of this work we do hereby remit a copy of 
 Benjamin Waite's letter to be read on that day." 
 
 This touching appeal was generously responded to, and the 
 contributions on that day amounted to 345 pounds, one shilling 
 and four pence, raised in forty-six towns and places of the Mas- 
 sachusetts Colony. The name of Benjamin Waits will go down 
 in history in connection with this thrilling event as the leader of 
 it, and his connection with is but another example of the true- 
 ism, that in every great crisis of human affairs God raises up a 
 man for the emergency. The name of Benjamin Waite first ap- 
 pears in the records of Hatfield in 1663. That year he was 
 elected to keep the West side pound. In 1664, he received a 
 grant of four acres in North meadow. He married Martha 
 Leonard of Springfield, June 8, 1670. He was born probably in 
 the eastern part of the Colony, or perhaps in E. I. He evident- 
 ly received advantages of education. 
 
Hatfield's Hero, I677. 
 
 Written by Margaret Miller for Hatfield's Memorial Day. 
 
 Struck with woe and cousteruation were the hearts in Hatfield town 
 
 When the fierce and fearful red men from the north came swooping down. 
 
 For all the heavy timbered gates were standing open wide, 
 
 As peace had reigned a twelve-month now along the river side. 
 
 The many stalwart farmers were stocking up the maize 
 
 To the southward, where the Capawonk pursues her winding wa5's. 
 
 The fiendish work was quickly done. The men returned to find 
 
 Their houses smoking ruins — twelve dead were left behind — 
 
 And a silence that was anguish rested heavy over all. 
 
 Friends and kin were taken captive, far bej'ond their reach and call. 
 
 Seventeen were numbered missing, yet among those stricken men 
 
 Only two had heart to follow, seek and bi"ing them back again. 
 
 A month they talked and counselled, spoke of rescue, then drew back, 
 For quick slaughter, lingering torture, followed in the savage track. 
 Awhile they feared the worst had happened, then, with courage high, 
 Benjamin Waite rose like a hero, going forth to save or die. 
 With him Jennings, both sore smitten, robbed of wives and little ones, 
 Started eastward, unattended, armed but with their trusty guns. 
 
 First to Boston for assistance. But the state, of money drained. 
 Could provide no guard of soldiers. Yet the men, by faith sustained. 
 With written vouchei-s for their need, thro' thick woods took their way, 
 Ever hastening, pressing forward, young hearts brooking no delay. 
 When the weary march was ended, winter treading on their heels, 
 To the colony at Albany they made impetuous appeals. 
 
 Still no help, but further hindrance. Down the Hudson they are sent. 
 Governor Andros heard their story and his tardy aid he lent. 
 Reinforced with timely letters, past the jealous Dutch again, 
 Northward still in toilsome marches plodded on the steadfast men. 
 To Lake George a trusty Indian journeyed with them as a guide, 
 Then on alone, with rough chart onlv, thro' the wilderness untried. 
 
 (37) 
 
38 
 
 Who can paint their untold trials, who can picture them in thought, 
 Ere to heart-sick, hopeless captives, late deliverance they brought ? 
 January's storms were raging, yet they safely crossed Champlain, 
 And, — encamped a few miles northward, — there thej' found their own again. 
 Found their own, these venturous heroes, and surprises, too, in store; 
 Each brave wife a new-born daughter in her shelt'ring arms upbore. 
 
 Like the fragile flowers that blossom 'neath the freezing Alpine sky. 
 
 The little maids survived and flourished— of hardy stock, they could not die. 
 
 Shall we follow still the true hearts, in their labors not yet done. 
 
 Struggling onward thro' the snow-drifts, storm and wind, and wintry sun, 
 
 To Quebec, the northern fortress, off'ring ransom full and sure 
 
 Not for kindred, but for every captive freedom to procure ? 
 
 So lordly was Quebec, 'twas like the court of sunny France, 
 Where ladies whiled the time away with song and merry dance. 
 And many were the young knights there to win a soldier's fame. 
 That should add its luster to some ancient and historic name. 
 With manly heart Waite told his tale to lords and ladies gay; 
 His words, though plain, were diamonds unadorned to win their way. 
 
 'Twas not till welcome spring arrived with all her myriad train, 
 
 And 'gan unlock the icy barriers of the wood and plain. 
 
 That Waite and Jennings started on their joyful homeward route 
 
 Victorious, accredited, with a soldier guard about. 
 
 And of the many gifts they to the ransomed captives bore. 
 
 But one remains, the little shoe that Sally Coleman wore. 
 
 Now we follow their returning "softly" with their little band, 
 Pausing oft to rest the children, firm of courage, strong of hand, 
 In expedients fertile, making every wild thing serve their end. 
 Till at length arrived at Albany, home the joyful news they send. 
 Hark the tidings I Hear the heart-beats, when along the village street 
 Rings report of Waite's glad letter, borne by messenger so fleet. 
 
 " To my Loving Friends and Kindred," thus his thrilling word we read, 
 
 "Safe thus far we've brought our charges, and your help we greatly need. 
 
 Any, therefore, who do love us, come and help us in this strait, 
 
 For we much do need assistance and our care is very great. " 
 
 Then he names the rescued captives — three only fallen by the waj- — 
 
 Nineteen people ransomed. Now the letter speaks to say : 
 
 " Pray you hasten, for the matter much requireth speed from you. 
 
 For the Sabbath pray you stay not, nor for any boi-se to shoe; 
 
 Come provisioned. Time is urgent. Let not night your footsteps stay, 
 
 At Kanterhook we'll meet j'ou, if no cause our march delay; 
 
 Of enemies about j'our i)ath no danger will there be, — 
 
 As I unto your fatherless, be ye affected now to me." 
 
39 
 
 'Twas Hatfield's " Great Calamity " on that September morn, 
 "When the village stood unguarded and the men were stocking corn ; 
 'Twas Hatfield's "Day of Jubilee," the brightest in her crown, 
 When our heroes, 'mid rejoicing, thro' the street came marching down. 
 It was a touching sight to see that little way-worn band 
 Coming homeward to their own, their well-beloved land. 
 
 Sturdy women, tender children, brave as made of Spartan clay. 
 Let honor wait on all who toiled that fearful, frozen way. 
 From lip to lip the story ran ; the fame spread thro' the land 
 Of him who fought a winter long, steel-true in heart and hand, 
 Courageous, strong and resolute to meet his unknown fate, 
 And came a conqueror home at last, our hero, Benjamin Waite. 
 
Letter of Samuel D. Partridge, of Milwaukee. 
 
 READ BY C. K, MORTON. 
 
 S. G. Hubbard, Esq. — Dear Sir: — In my whole life I do 
 not remember to have received any invitation which afforded me 
 greater pleasure than the one from your Committee to be present 
 at the anniversary of the 19th of September, 1677. 
 
 I have not the vanity to suppose that my presence would add 
 to the interest of the occasion, or my absence detract from it ; 
 but my personal gratification and longing draw me strongly to 
 visit once more my native town. In my absence of forty years, 
 I have seen something on both sides of the Mississippi, but I 
 have found nothing that equals in beauty the Valley of the Con- 
 necticut, or excites any rivalry in the affection which I bear for 
 the place of my birth. 
 
 In response to the request made in the communication I re- 
 ceived from Hatfield, I have embodied in this paper all that I 
 know respecting the Stockade, erected by the first settlers for 
 their defence against the Indians. About fifty years ago, Mr. 
 Sylvester Judd of Northampton called upon me at my home in 
 Hatfield, with a request to join him in an effort to ascertain the 
 precise location of this Stockade ; with which request I readily 
 complied, and we proceeded forthwith to give our attention to 
 the business. We commenced in the home-lot of Col. Erastus 
 Billings, and soon found the object of our search. We traced 
 it from Col. Erastus Billings's lot through that of his brother, 
 Mr. Roswell Billings, into the lot of ray father — antl I recollect 
 that there it passed through the site of an old tan-yard ; 
 we then followed it into the Dea. Partridge lot, at that time 
 owned by Miss Lois Dickinson, thence through the lot of Chas. 
 
 (40) 
 
41 
 
 M. Billings, thence through that of Capt. Elijah Smith, and 
 through Dr. Lyman's home-lot. We knew that we had not 
 reached its northern limit, but for some cause, now forgotten, 
 we followed it no further, being satisfied that we had found the 
 right location. It ran parallel with the street, and I should 
 think about 200 feet distant from it. There was, in those days, 
 a small orchard directly in the rear of Mr. Roswell Billings's 
 garden, and this orchard was enclosed on the west by a fence 
 running across the home-lot, and my impression is that the line 
 of the Stockade passed from twenty to thirty feet west of the 
 line of this fence. It may be that this fence remains, but if 
 not, I am sure that Mr. Erastus Billings can point out its pre- 
 cise location. I think there can be no doubt that the Stockade 
 extended south far enough to include whatever buildings may 
 have stood on the allotment of Ozias Goodwin on the west side 
 of the street, and those of Daniel Warner on the east side. 
 And I think, also, that it extended north to a point not far 
 from the line between the allotment to Daniel White, Jr., and 
 that to John Allis — something less than one hundred rods in 
 length — and would include the lot of Daniel White, Jr., on the 
 west side, and that of Samuel Dickinson on the east side, whose 
 north line was two rods further north, than the north line of 
 Daniel White, Jr. This line, between Allis and White, would 
 be twenty-four rods from the Middle Lane, and one hundred 
 and two rods from the highway to Northampton ; and would in 
 all probability include all the houses in existence at the time of 
 its erection, except those of Richard Fellows and John Cowles 
 south of the Northampton road. 
 
 It is quite evident that the Indians, on the 19th of Septem- 
 ber, 1677, met with np resistance from the inhabitants of the 
 town, and that they did not even see any white man, except the 
 four whom they killed at the upper end of the street, and Oba- 
 diali Dickinson wliom they took captive. It does not even ap 
 pear that they were or need have been in any hurry in making 
 their retreat ; but it would seem that they met with some ob- 
 stacle which arrested their progress and prevented any further 
 ravages toward the south, and there can be no reasonable doubt 
 that this obstacle was the Stockade. 
 
 It may be thought that under such circumstances they could 
 easily have broken through the stockade ; but it is said that on 
 
42 
 
 one occasion in Northampton they had made their way inside 
 such an enclosure, but in consequence of a rally of the inhabi- 
 tants they found it very difficult to get out, and from that time 
 were careful not to repeat the attempt. 
 
 I believe that William Gull's allotment was just without the 
 Stockade on the east side of the street, and it does not appear 
 that any outrages were committed there, I conclude that either 
 it had no inhabitants, or that they had made good their escape 
 within the Palisades. It will therefore follow that the two most 
 northerly houses within the enclosure were those of Daniel 
 White, Jr., and Samuel Dickinson. 
 
 The homestead of Mr. S, G. Hubbard now occupies the whole 
 of the John Allis lot and a part of the Daniel White, Jr. lot. 
 The place was occupied by a member of the Allis family about 
 the beginning of this century, and passed from him to Lieut. 
 Rufus Smith. 
 
 There is a tradition — and it certainly has an air of probability 
 — that the Indians entered the street through the Middle Lane. 
 With the exception of the three places at extreme north end of 
 the street on the west side, all the houses visited by them seem 
 to have been in this immediate vicinity. The three houses on 
 the west side of the street, between the Middle Lane and the 
 Stockade, were taken by house-row ; and the five visited by 
 them on the east side, were all adjacent to each other. No vio- 
 lence seems to have been done on the east side above the 
 house of Philij) Russell, nor on the west side between the Mid- 
 dle Lane and the three houses at the north end of the street. 
 The fact that this murderous band of Indians, unpursued, left 
 no traces of violence above the points mentioned, might raise a 
 suspicion that there were no other buildings above the Palisades. 
 
 A daughter of John Allis was taken captive and his barn 
 burned. The next house north, the same as that occupied by 
 the late Israel Morton, was that of Obadiah Dickinson, whose 
 wife was wounded and he with one child was taken prisoner, 
 and his house burned. The house and barn of Samuel Kellogg 
 on the corner of Middle Lane, where the Academy now stands, 
 was burned, and his wife and child were killed. Mary, wife of 
 Samuel Belding, who lived on the opposite side of the street, in 
 the house next north of William Gull's, was killed. Next north 
 of Samuel Belding. and not far from opposite the Middle Lane, 
 
43 
 
 was the lionse of John Coleman, whose wife and infant fchild 
 were killed, two young daughters taken captive, another child 
 wounded, and his barn burned. Next above John Coleman, 
 was the house of John Wells, whose daughter two years old was 
 killed, and his wife and another daughter wounded. I think 
 the lot of John Wells was the same with that of Remembrance 
 Bardwell. Next above was the lot of Samuel Gillett, but was 
 then occupied by Stephen Jennings, who had married his widow. 
 His wife, with her two children were taken captives. This Jot 
 was the same occupied by the late Ebenezer Morton. Next, 
 was the house of Philip Russell, whose wife and young son 
 were killed. I think the Russell place is the same as that form- 
 erly owned by Lieut. Samuel Smith. No further outrages seem 
 to have been committed on the east side of the street, and none 
 on the west side between the Middle Lane and Deerfield Lane ; 
 but on the second lot above the latter — and if my memory 
 serves me right — on the lot owned by the late John D. Brown, 
 was the house of Samuel Foote, from which his wife and two 
 children were taken captive. The next lot north was owned by 
 John Graves, Jr., and it is here probably where the men were 
 killed who were " at work on the frame of a building." Two 
 of these men were the father and uncle of John Graves, Jr., 
 and the other two — " Atchisson and Cooper from Springfield " — 
 were probably at work on the building. It is evident that John 
 and Isaac Graves were not in their own houses, for those were 
 within the Palisades ; and as the record shows that John 
 Graves, Jr., was married a few months later, it is reasonable to 
 suppose that he was then preparing a bouse. Hubbard, in his 
 history, says they were raising the building, but that is improb- 
 able, as he also says, " the men of the town were dispersed in 
 the meadows." The next house was that of Benjamin Waite, 
 sixteen rods from the north end of the street. This I suppose 
 to be the place now owned by the heirs of Jeremy Morton. As 
 long ago as I remember, the place was occupied by David 
 Waite. The house was old, of one-story, and when Mr. Morton 
 built the iiouse which now stands there, he did it by enlarging 
 the old one. At this place Benjamin Waite's wife and three 
 children were taken captive, and his house and barn were 
 burned. Of Abigail Bartholomew, who was taken prisoner, I 
 know nothing, except what Mr. Judd says in his History of 
 
44 
 
 Hadley, *' that William Bartholomew lived in Deerfield before 
 the war." 
 
 There are two names among the foregoing which are worthy 
 of a more extended mention than can be given in this commu- 
 nication — Benjamin Waite and Stephen Jennings. These men 
 by an effort of courage and patient endurance, which has sel- 
 dom been surpassed, succeeded in rescuing and bringing safely 
 home their own families and all the captives who still remained 
 alive. We know that their contemporaries held them in the 
 highest honor for their perseverance and bravery, and their 
 names are so identified with the early history of Massachusetts 
 that they cannot be forgotten. 
 
 SAMUEL D. PARTRIDGE. 
 
 Milwaukee, Wis,, Aug., 1889. 
 
Extract from Address of Bishop Huntington. 
 
 He began with a brief reference to his personal relations with 
 Hatfield through his residence in Hadley, the mother town, just 
 across the river. He alluded to the fine old ancestral homestead 
 he occupies, a commodious residence built in 1752 by his mater- 
 nal grandfather, Capt. Moses Porter, whose father was captured 
 by Indians and burned at the stake. Some very interesting 
 reminiscences of Eev. Dr. Lyman, the old pastor of the Hat- 
 field church followed, comprising some circumstances not gen- 
 erally familiar to residents in this vicinity. From this point the 
 talk branched off upon the Noble Connecticut, the glory of 
 Western ^Massachusetts, the beauty of its scenery, its influence 
 in determining the location of the settlement and its influence 
 upon the settlers and their descendants. The associations con- 
 nected with the streani, the fertility of the valley and the 
 changes in its course, formed a fruitful theme. When Hatfield, 
 the daughter of old Hadley, wished to set up house-keeping for 
 herself, the separation of the two portions by the river was 
 given as a chief pretext for that separation. Hadley, of course, 
 loving her daughter, as what mother does not, objected to the 
 separation and the argument was brought forward that it was 
 inconvenient to cross the river to go to church, that the screams 
 and noises of the women and children while crossing the stream 
 rendered them unfit for ordinances. The fisheries of the stream 
 before its great dams were built were a fruitful source of reve- 
 nue. It abounded so in salmon that shad were put to shame 
 and even excluded from the tables as not sufficiently aristocratic 
 fish and were even plowed into the fields for manure. 
 
 " The other side of the Indian question " was taken up and a 
 masterly plea made for the savage. The historical incidents 
 
 (45) 
 
46 
 
 related during the day have had a tendency to present the red 
 man in his worst aspect. We have had the dark picture of mas- 
 sacre and arson reproduced without a redeeming circumstance. 
 Yet there is another point of view that should not be forgotten. 
 For the first thirty years after the advent of the white man 
 peace reigned between the two races, and relations were most 
 harmonious. In order to disturb this fair state of affairs there 
 must have been error upon both sides ; the white man must 
 have been to blame as well as the Indian, as will be shown by 
 John Elliot's opinion as expressed, and that of others who had 
 faith in the Indians, they were not altogether irredeemable. 
 True, the praying Indian sometimes went back, but are there no 
 backsliders among ourselves at the present day ? 
 
 My own personal relations with the Indian in some respects 
 have been such that if any one should cherish animosity I would 
 have the right to, my great grandfather having been tortured 
 and burned at the stake. For the last twenty years I have been 
 thrown into close spiritual relations with Indians upon the 
 Onondaga reservation, engaged in the work of educating, civi- 
 lizing and spiritualizing them and hare formed a high opinion 
 of them. I am at present engaged in an effort to have them 
 raised to the rights of citizenship, allowing them to hold lands 
 in severalty, etc., privileges that will do much toward elevating 
 them. I am familiar with their better traits and their worse 
 traits, particularly their indolence and slowness of apprehension 
 and singular inaptitude for mathematics. 
 
 Bishop Huntington related some amusing instances of the ex- 
 hibition of these traits and then proceeded to relate a few cir- 
 cumstances in connection with the conversion of Albert Cusick, 
 by right of descent the head chief of the Six Nations, who re- 
 nounced that chieftainship, as much to him as the crown of Eng- 
 land to the Prince of Wales, and embraced Christianity, forfeit- 
 ing all risht to tribal eminence. The conduct of other Indians 
 was noted and their careers as ministers, etc., partially traced. 
 
 The circumstances lying back of the two races received atten- 
 tion, as having a great bearing upon the question. The Puritan 
 had behind him 6000 years of history, example and precedent, 
 the New Testament of fifty generations, the Gospel of 1600 
 years. Back of King Philip, Uncas and the other Indians was 
 naught but complete hopelessness and Cimmerian darkness. 
 
47 
 
 The greater the obstacles in the way of civilizing and Christian- 
 izing a race, the greater the duty of Christianity to put forth its 
 efforts, — the more hopelessly a spot is sunk into ignorance, the 
 more necessity that Christianity should lift it up — the more 
 helpless the ward of the nation the greater its need of being 
 lifted into the light of civilization. In this contrast have not 
 Justice, fairness and Christianity something to say ? 
 
 The alleged decline or decadence of the country towns was 
 reviewed by the speaker in conclusion. He thought the reason 
 for the desertion of the farms and countiy homes by the young 
 people lies not.so much in any exhaustion of country places as 
 in the arising within the last fifty years, presenting active busi- 
 ness opportunities and the promise of great opportunities in 
 trade. Yet those who leave the country for the city are not the 
 gainers in health, in character, in mind, body or spirit, and not 
 one in ten secures the coveted fortune. The power of changing 
 this state of affairs rests in the hands of those who were born in 
 these places, and to them must these towns look for their regen- 
 eration and enlarged prosperity. There are many plans that 
 could be of use, the establishment of reading clubs, evening 
 lectures, etc., will have a strong influence. The effort to make 
 the best of old Hatfield, not wandering far from her, will be 
 effectual in creating a common life, good for all needs. An 
 allusion was made to Smith College, an offspring of Hatfield, 
 and he thought that much could be expected from its influence. 
 One generation of earnest effort to make the most of Hatfield 
 will result in producing a real republic, a Christian democracy, 
 a kingdom of God on earth. 
 
Tlie Squaw Sacliem of 1632. 
 
 By George Bradford Bartlett, Concord. 
 
 The Sudbury and the Assabet unite in fond embrace 
 Around the rocky throne of her who ruled the dusky race, 
 And named the promontory rough, when but a merry maid, 
 Egg Rock, because in that soft nest it happened to be laid. 
 
 Their legend says "that Indian Queen," with firm and gentle sway. 
 Governed the tribe that dwelt along Old Massachusetts Bay. 
 Certain it is beyond a doubt, fair woman's gentle hand 
 Rules o'er the present manly race who occupy the land. 
 
 The noble red man, coopered well, bursts out in song and story, 
 So let us in the simple strain extol the female glory. 
 The gentle Squaw, neglected long by every noted author, 
 Excepting Pocahontas and the bride of Hiawatha. 
 
 The ivoynan's right to labor to her was not denied ; 
 
 The good man smoked the pipe of peace, a helpmate was his bride. 
 
 She cooked the food and built the lodge and brought the wood and water 
 
 And patiently did all the work as every woman orter. 
 
 A plain brown front, no storied flat where city thousands swarm. 
 No furnace fire, a hat sufficed to keep her old ivigivarm. 
 Her range was in the forest wild, and, for a cheerful fire, 
 A captain from another tribe was all she could desire . 
 
 Her costume always was in style; no belle with face so pale 
 Excelled her in the mystic art of managing a trail. 
 With moccasin soft shod, all wrought with cunning fingers deft. 
 Her tender sole was tortured not with woman's ri(fhts and left. 
 
 (48) 
 
49 
 
 No soothing syrup for her babes, she slung them on a tree 
 
 To rock-a-bye to suit tliemselves so merry and so free. 
 
 For them the sugar maple poured its very sweetest sap, 
 
 Her brave pappooses, strong and well, were not brought up on pap. 
 
 No organ or piano filled her lodges with frightful noise ; 
 She had a way of keeping still the noisy girls and boys. 
 For, when the evening shadows fell, they sat upon the stoop, 
 Chanting with all their might and main the musical war-whoop. 
 
 She taught him how to raise the hair with keenest tomahawk. 
 Not like the scalpers now-a-days who kill a man with talk, 
 To draw the long bow skillfully against the bulls and bears, 
 To keep their wampum up to pa in midst of panic scares. 
 
 She never clamored for a place or tried to cast a vote. 
 She never preached a sermon dull, or learned essays wrote, 
 Contented with'er daily round to fill her proper sphere. 
 For woman's mission is to please her lord and master dear. 
 
 Yet she was queen and ruler of a race of mighty men, 
 And what has been is sure to be, to happen once again. 
 The time is surely coming, the ship of state is she, 
 And she who long has ruled our hearts our governess shall be. 
 
 Ye timid souls, fresh courage take despite the arts of man, 
 This prophecy the sachem makes, despise it if you can. 
 Before the coming century its rapid course abates 
 A woman may be President of the United States. 
 
Remarks of Joseph L. Partridge, of Brookl^^n. 
 
 Mr. President: — You have arrested me, hat in hand, with 
 my face toward the door, and brought nie to the jilatform. 
 This I do not charge as impertinence on your part, but it would 
 be the height of impertinence for me to hold this great audience 
 with the expectation of a speech. 
 
 I came nearly two hundred miles to enjoy this 212th anniver- 
 sary occasion, and have not been disappointed. I have no man- 
 uscript in my pocket and no speech in my head. I am indeed 
 one of you — an old citizen — born more than eighty-five years 
 ago, and living more than twenty years near this very spot. I 
 have not been disappointed in any of the presentations of these 
 hours. The historical facts of the massacre, the sympathy for 
 the tortured and the captured, the ecstatic joy for their recov- 
 ery ; with the magnanimous self sacrifice of Benjamin Waite 
 and Steplien Jennings, as their deliverers ; as also many histori- 
 cal facts of the times of intensest interest, but never known be- 
 fore to many of this generation, have been eloquently and im- 
 pressively depicted to our highest satisfaction. Those were in- 
 deed times that tried men's souls. But they developed in the 
 men of the times the traits that made the nation ; and the per- 
 petuity of the nation has been the product of the same. Given 
 the same environments and we see the blood of the fathers has 
 not deteriorated in the veins of the sons. 
 
 We have been entertained also with many reminiscences of 
 olden times, before and within the memory of the oldest of us. 
 Bishop Huntington has done us a pleasing service, for which 
 we ought to be grateful. Not exactly one of us, but separated 
 only by the breadth of the Connecticut, he has shown that he 
 
 (50) 
 
51 
 
 has not been unobservant of what we are, and of what we have 
 done. In his happy diversity of tojDics, many things are in- 
 cluded of which I should like to speak. He has alluded to the 
 staid chaj-acter and the denominational unity of our town from 
 the beginning. The town had its origin, in part at least, in the 
 religious coiitroversies of the lower towns on the river and in its 
 vicinity ; especially in that upon the '' Half Way Covenant," 
 as involving the "rights of suffrage." The complications of 
 the religious with the secular were ever very divisive. Even 
 down to my own memory, Massachusetts laws required every 
 man of whatever religious sentiment, or of none, to pay taxes 
 for the support of the " Regular Denomination." 
 
 The unbroken unity of this people, for two hundred years, 
 in its religious organization, is a marked comment both upon 
 their character and upon the successive clerical influences which 
 have directed them. 
 
 Now, my friends, I promised not to make a speech, and I will 
 be true ; will only add, with what pleasure I repeat my annual 
 returns to these scenes of my early days ; and how gratifying 
 the marked improvements in every direction. 
 
Remarks of Rev. R. M. Woods, of Hatfield. 
 
 Our fathers were rich in homely virtues, — diligence, cheerful- 
 ness, patience, courage, self-saci'ifice, godliness. Accomplish- 
 ments are not to be despised, but they are not the materials out 
 of which to build character. You must have sterner stuff be- 
 hind and beneath them. Paintings, vases, musical instruments 
 beautify a hom.%, but these of themselves cannot make a healthy 
 happy home. This has its beginning in a firm foundation wall, 
 a dry cellar, a tight roof, sunny windows, and an ample clum- 
 ney with a good draught. Children cannot make choice of 
 their parents, but if any selection were possible, the wise child 
 would make choice of parents such as our fathers were of 1677. 
 
 Benjamin Waite and Stephen Jennings are honored by us, to- 
 day, not merely for what they were in themselves, or what they 
 did. We delight to glorify them because we see in them repre- 
 sentative men of Hatfield, and this Connecticut Valley, in 1677. 
 They were representative men in the spirit of self-sacrifice which 
 marked the whole story of their achievement. They belonged 
 to an age of self-denial. The times in which they lived were 
 times, not of conquest over the wilderness and the savage mere- 
 ly ; they were times pre-eminently of self-conquest. 
 
 The basis of this capacity for sacrifice was an iron will. 
 Strength of will is said to be the distinguishing characteristic 
 of the Saxon race. The eloquence of John Adams was will. 
 How power of will stands out in those portraits of Lieut. Bill- 
 ings and his wife which are on exhibition ! To avert the Rev- 
 olutionary War our fathers sent remonstrances and petitions to 
 the government of King George. I would have sent instead a 
 few such pictures as these. He would have been a king more 
 stupid even than George III., who would have ventured to sub- 
 
 (52) 
 
53 
 
 jugate people put together with such straight backs and set 
 mouths and massive jaws. 
 
 What a succession of victories Waite and Jennings achieved 
 to accomplish their mission to Canada ? There was a victory 
 over discouragement and lack of sympathy, a victory over delay 
 and approaching winter, a victory over the increasing cold and 
 the hunger which was caused by the exhaustioo of their sup- 
 plies. And every victory they won was a victory over self. To 
 my mind not the least of all their victories was the victory they 
 won over themselves, when as unlettered men, they made bold 
 to plead the cause of the captives before the French governor 
 and the court at Quebec. 
 
 But the heroism we honor to-day is made radiant to me by its 
 religious spirit. In all that has been read and spoken in my 
 hearing, nothing has moved me more than the letter of appeal 
 for help which Benjamin Waite sent before him from Albany to 
 Massachusetts on his return with the ransomed captives. That 
 letter is eloquent with pathos and faith. That letter still 
 speaks. It is speaking now to you and to me, and this is what 
 it is saying : " You children, who to-day glory in your fathers 
 should not be satisfied until a suitable memorial is erected to 
 their virtues and their achievements." We may not complete 
 such a work in one day, in one year, but we can start. We can 
 plan, and purpose, and set our faces tiiitherward, as Benjamin 
 Waite and Stephen Jennings so promptly set their faces toward 
 Canada when Hatfield was still in the desolation left by the 
 torch and the tomahawk. 
 
 Until that memorial is completed, we shall never cease to hear 
 the words Benjamin Waite wrote in his memorable letter : — 
 " As I have been affected to you all * * * be affected to me 
 now." 
 
Address of W. H. x\llis, of Springfield. 
 
 Mr. Presideiit, Kinsmeii and Friends : — It gives me great 
 pleasure to meet you on this interesting Memorial — Anniversary 
 day (not interesting in its conception and horrible detail of mas- 
 sacre and captivity), but in the return of captives, reunion of 
 families and continued prosperity to the present time. I gladly 
 accepted an invitation from your worthy and efficient chairman 
 to take a part in this memorial exercise in honor of those who 
 fought, bled and died in planting this town. To refuse to pay 
 tribute to their deeds of sacrifice and valor — " verily the stones 
 wonld cry out.'^ It gives me courage and inspiration to see your 
 faces ; veterans of three score and ten, four score, comrades, and 
 school-mates of my own age ; young men and maidens, whose 
 privilege it is to live in this good old town of Hatfield, probably 
 named after a prosperous inland city in the north of England, 
 Hertfordshire Co., on both sides of the river Lea. It embraces 
 two suburban villages, one Hatfield Oaks and the other Hatfield 
 Park ; the Park is two miles wide and five miles long. 
 
 This 19th of September comes with peculiar significance to 
 me, as just forty years ago to-day I left the old hearthstone to 
 find a new home in a distant town, now an infant city, with its 
 numerous lines of railroads and streets cars, telegraph and tele- 
 phones, and one thousand electric lights turn midnight to the 
 glare of a noonday sun, and many other devices and inventions 
 of man surround us in these modern times. All these I gladly 
 leave behind to be with you on this memorial day, when all the 
 sons and daughters of Hatfield meet here on common ground to 
 honor that faithful band who planted this town in honor (buying 
 their land of the Indians) ; dedicated it by faith, works and 
 prayer and later christened it with their blood. 212 years ago 
 
 (54) 
 
55 
 
 both families of my paternal and maternal ancestors with others 
 were stricken with grief worse than death when the red savage 
 entered the home, dragging away as captives the mother with 
 her helpless children ; but this did not satisfy their mortal hate 
 of Benjamin Waite ; they set fire to his house and barn, which 
 consumed everything they did not carry away ; they stole Abi- 
 gail, daughter of Capt. John Allis, and burnt his barn and 
 many others, of which you all have read. Another fact of pe- 
 culiar interest to me, the homestead of my ancestor Wm. Allis, 
 included the land now occupied by the church, town hall, par- 
 sonage, school house and cemetery. 
 
 1. Our forefathers, who were they ? I answer, a band of 
 congenial spirits, men of learning and mark, men of heroism 
 and deep toned piety, intelligent and brave, who planned, toiled 
 and suffered beyond what is or ever can be known ; they were 
 a race of warriors who could never be conquered, they fought 
 with the " Sword of the Lord and Gideon." They were not bigots 
 or doubters, but men of common sense. Disciples of Darwin 
 or Lochioood may indulge in fine spun theories about the human 
 race being educated up from a tadpole; this theory might do 
 for them but not for us, the descendants of those pioneers rep- 
 resenting the best blood in the country ; they were patriots, sol- 
 diers and statesmen every one. 
 
 2. What have tliey done for us their descendants ? They 
 established the common school the cradle of liberty, the church 
 the safeguard of morals ; they laid the foundation for the high 
 social, moral and religious privileges we this day enjoy ; they 
 were men of principle guided by the over-ruling hand of Provi- 
 dence ; for principle which stands so high, for which one might 
 be proud to die. 
 
 3. What shall we do for them ? Men are known by their 
 deeds, true exponents of character. Is it presuming too much to 
 say those worthy pioneers are with us to-day as witnesses of our 
 devotion to duty, the tribute and honor we this day pay to them 
 as worthy sons of noble sires? The inspiration and enthusiasm 
 manifested here to-day cannot be all our own, if it be true that 
 we are surrounded by a great cloud of witnesses. What cause 
 for rejoicing to see this great assembly of sons and daughters 
 paying tribute and honor to those who deserve it and do our- 
 selves the highest honor by honoring them. 
 
56 
 
 While monuments are being erected costing thousands over 
 the graves of modern heroes to immortalize their names, those 
 invincible patriots, heroes and soldiers were buried without a 
 stone to mark their resting place ; though they are dead yet 
 shall they speak. 
 
 I am glad to be with you to assist on this memorial day in lay- 
 ing the foundation for a monument more enduring than brass or 
 stone, that shall preserve the records of this a?icient town from 
 oblivion. This shall be the day that marks a new era in your 
 now unwritten history, except in fragments by different authors. 
 
 Our venerable president well represents the importance of the 
 letter S used by railroads and marines as a connecting link in a 
 broken chain. Eveiy one present can be a letter S, large or 
 small, to connect the past to the present, a record of passing 
 events ; this is history. I ask myself the question, each one of 
 you can do the same. What can I do on this memorial day 
 towards handing down the record of the manners and customs 
 of our fathers and of our own time ; the fittest shall survive. 
 Shall this be the " Handful of corn on the top of the mountain, 
 the fruit thereof shall shake like Lebanon." I hope none of us 
 will incur the reproach of those who come after us for having 
 neglected so important a duty as that of securing a complete 
 memorial of our ancestors or ourselves, or to have it said of each 
 one of us, 
 
 " Once in the flight of ages past, 
 There lived a man and who was he ? 
 Unknown the region of his birth, 
 The land in which he died unknown, 
 His name has perished from the earth." 
 
 Jas. M. Crafts, historian and genealogist, gave a brief history 
 of Benjamin Waite, who came from Rhode Island, owned land 
 in Hatfield in 1659, and mortgaged it the same year. He prob- 
 ably got his Indian fighting qualities in the Pequot wars. He 
 did not tell how Benjamin used to sell rum to the Indians, and 
 how he was fined for being too active after sunset on the sacred 
 Saturday night. He urged the town to secure the writing of its 
 history. 
 
57 
 
 Historian Temple, of Whately, told of the old Indian trails, 
 whose location he had traced throughout the valley. The In- 
 dians did not frequent the hills much, but lived near the great 
 river, at whose falls they fished. 
 
 Dr. Searle, of Syracuse, N. Y., who descended from our pio- 
 neers, with a trace of the Indian fighting blood in his veins, told 
 how he was drawn to the Connecticut valley for the first time, 
 two years ago, to trace out the location of places mentioned in 
 certain deeds in his possession. He described the last attack on 
 the settlement this side of Mt. Tom, in which his great-grand- 
 mother was struck with a tomahawk and left for dead, being 
 saved by the wearing of a large hair comb. He eulogized their 
 grand aims and deeds, and their mighty results, of the fathers 
 in the institutions they founded, and society built on the rock of 
 education, free thought and free action. Then he told of the 
 dangers of immigration, and said while he welcomed English, 
 Irish and Italians, he wanted England, Ireland and Italy aban- 
 doned when they came. These foreigners governed New York 
 City and the city ruled the nation, a city eighty per cent, for- 
 eign, twenty per cent, able neither to read or write, and four- 
 fifths taking its law from the Tiber rather than the Potomac. 
 
 J. Johnson, of Greenfield, recalled the time when President 
 Sheldon and he discussed the formation of the association, and 
 his eyes were now delighted with the results. He did wish Hat- 
 field people would write up their history. He told of the Indian 
 trails up and down the valley, and was positive that there could 
 be found to-day indisputable evidence of their course. 
 
Collection of Antiquities. 
 
 Arranged by Dr. C. M. Barton and John H. Sanderson. 
 
 Ill the town hall, next the church, were gathered enough 
 relics of the early settlers to form a very attractive permanent 
 exhibition, and it must have been wished by many venerators of 
 antiquities that this display would lead to the beginning of a 
 common and a permanent abiding place for them, where they 
 might be removed from danger of fire and open to the sight of 
 all. Each family will cherish most those articles descended 
 from its own, but of greatest interest must have been the gun 
 which the hero of the day, Benjamin Waite, carried over two 
 centuries ago. Its flint and lock are gone ; its muzzle is bat- 
 tered and jammed ; but its wood-work of over five feet in 
 length remains. Now owned by W. H. Dickinson. Waite's 
 chair, a rocker, was there too. 
 
 Col. Williams's cliair was loaned by S. P. Billings. 
 
 A sword used by Capt. Perez Morton in the war of 1812 was 
 shown. 
 
 Dea. John White's gun, loaned by J. Doane. 
 
 There was the old hotel sign which hung when George the III 
 was king. It bore the honored name of S. Partridge, and the 
 word entertainment. 
 
 Chair, 1705, J. H. Sanderson. 
 
 Cloak, eighty years old, loaned by Mrs. J. Warner. 
 
 A rusty blade with unguarded handle, and this: — ''This 
 sword belonged to a crown officer, and is over 200 years old ; 
 loaned by C. D. Bartlett." 
 
 Tape loom loaned by C. Wilkie, and beside it flax iron. 
 Painting of old elm in front of church, by John Wilkie. 
 
 A higli backed " settle" from old Hastings place. 
 
 (58) 
 
69 
 
 A stove of Israel Williams, loaned by S. P. Billings. 
 
 An oaken chest, beautifully carved and very well preserved, 
 belonging to Eev. Wm. Williams, pastor of the church fifty-six 
 years. On top of it an oak inlaid secretary belonging to Col. 
 Israel, son of above, loaned by S. P. Billings, whose grand- 
 mother, Jeruaha Billings, was a daughter of Col. Israel Wil- 
 liatns. 
 
 Fire screen of Rebekah Dickinson, loaned by Mrs. D. Bill- 
 ings. 
 
 A little wood-bound foot stove with sheet iron box, loaned by 
 Wm. H. Dickinson, and near it a vast array of warming pans, 
 huge frying pans, suggestive of great camp fires, and other culi- 
 nary utensils. 
 
 Looking glass brought to Norwich, Ct., by Sir Thomas 
 Leffingwell, one of the first settlers, said to have come over in 
 the Mayflower, loaned by Miss A. Dickinson. 
 
 Bottle used to carry communion wine by Dea. Jona. Morton, 
 1720, loaned by Mrs. J. Warner. 
 
 Two fine dresses, sleeveless, worn by Bethiah Dwight, who 
 married Erastus Knight, 1810. 
 
 Among a case full of ancient deeds was a flint bag of smoked 
 buckskin, loaned by Mrs. J. Brown. Here also were abundant 
 arrow heads, stone axe heads, a stone gauge, and a lot of fine 
 arrow heads found in an Indian grave by M. J. Proulx. In 
 other cases were a large number of old books, and it pleased 
 Bishop Huntington to note a book of common prayer in this 
 community, which preserves its unity of religious worship 
 almost alone among New England villages. 
 
 A powder horn used in King Philip's war, loaned by Mrs. 
 Wm . Dougherty. 
 
 Portion of bed draperies belonging to Hon. Ezra Stark- 
 weather, member of Gov. Caleb Strong's council. 
 
 Baby's wool blanket 140 years old, of Mrs. Elisha Dickinson, 
 great grandmother of Miss Hattie Billings, by whom loaned. 
 
 Powder horn of Henry Wilkie, a Hessian in Burgoyne's army, 
 loaned by Chas. Wilkie. 
 
 Spread worked by Rebekah Dickinson and Polly Wright, in 
 1675, with their names wrought thereon, loaned by Mrs. David 
 Billings. 
 
 Table over 200 years old, brought from England, loaned by 
 Thaddeus Graves. 
 
GENEALOGY. 
 
 BY JAMES M. CRAFTS. 
 
 WAITE. 
 
 The early records of the Mass. Bay Colony contain many allu- 
 sions to the Waite families under various spellings of the name, 
 as Waight, Waite, Wayte, Wayt, &c. 
 
 Richard Wayte came from England and was admitted to the 
 church in Boston, Aug. 28th, 1634. He was sheriff of the col- 
 ony in 1647, went on an expedition against the Narragansetts in 
 1654 ; in 1658, was rewarded for services in the Pequot war and 
 also for his diligent pains in hunting out those who harbored 
 Quakers. 
 
 Gamaliel Waite, of Boston, was brother of Richard ; and 
 Thomas Waite, of Seconet, R. I., supposed to be the father of 
 Sergt. Benjamin Waite, is believed to be brother of Richard. 
 Benjamin Waite is known to be of Rhode Island stock, and 
 Richard Waite of Springfield, and William Waite of Northamp- 
 ton, are believed to be brothers of Benjamin. 
 
 Sergt. Benjamin Waite was born perhaps as early as 1640. 
 He was in Hadiey in 1663 and in Hattield in 1669. In 1670 
 (June 8th), he married Martha Leonard wlio was born May 15th, 
 1649. He had a home lot granted him on the west side of Main 
 street, fourth lot north of the Deerfield road and where lately 
 resided J. D. Brown. 
 
 For his children with records of births, marriages and deaths, 
 of his own, as well as the families of three sons — John, Jere- 
 miah and Joseph — we can add but little to that given in the 
 
 (60) 
 
61 
 
 history of Hadley. Lucy Waite, dau. of Joseph, m. Eeuben 
 Bardwell of Deerfield. Reuben dying soon she m. (2) Asahel 
 Wright of Deerfield, and bore him 9 children. 
 
 It is our purpose of the 24 grandchildren named Waite, to 
 follow but one, viz.: — Elisha", son of John% b. in Hatfield, Oct. 
 10, 1725, d. June 29, 1816, aged 91 years. He m. 1749, Mar- 
 tha, dau. of John and Martha (Allis) Wells, of Hardwick, 
 Mass. She was b. June 12, 1731, and d. Feb. 2, 1817, aged 86 
 years. Ho resided in Hatfield on the road leading from Hatfield 
 street to Whately. The place now owned by Edwin Brainard. 
 Here his son Elisha resided, and grandson George, and perhaps 
 some of the sons of George. They had children. 
 
 1. Lucy, b. Nov. 2, 1749, m. Lt. Noah Bardwell of Whately, 
 and she bore him 15 children. She d. Sept. 11, 1833, aged 84 
 years. 
 
 2. Irene, b. Jan. 3, 1752, m. Jan. 1, 1778, Gad Smith, of 
 Whately. She bore him 7 children. She d. May 5, 1842, aged 
 90 years. 
 
 3. Mary, b. in Hatfield, July 15, 1755, d. Dec. 5, 1781. 
 
 4. Elihu, b. in Hatfield, Aug. 15, 1757, m. (1) Rebecca 
 Graves, of South Hadley, and resided in Whately. 
 
 5. Martha, b. in Hatfield, March 25, 1760, m. Nathan Gerry. 
 
 6. Consider, b. in Hatfield, March 25, 1762, m. (1) Perses 
 Lull, (2) Elizabeth Weson, and resided in Whately. 
 
 7. Sally, b. in Hatfield, June 25, 1765, d. Oct., 1776. 
 
 8. Daniel, b. in Hatfield, Aug. 5, 1766, m. Jan. 10, 1805, 
 Mary Hastings, of Hatfield. 
 
 9. Elisha, b, in Hatfield, April 2, 1769, 
 
 10. Electa, b. in Hatfield, Sept. 16, 1771. 
 
 11. Jonathan, b. in Hatfield, April 20, 1775, m. (1) Betsey 
 Brown , (2) Nancy Robinson, and resided in Whately. 
 
 Elisha Waite, Jr\, son of Elisha', b. in Hatfield, April 2, 
 1769, d. March 3, 1843, m. (1) 1796, Rhoda Field, dau. of 
 Eliakim and Esther (Graves) Field, of Hatfield. She was b. 
 Oct. 26, 1758, and d. Jan. 19, 1819, aged 60 years, (2) Han- 
 nah Graves. She d. Oct. 15, 1825, aged 47 years. They re- 
 sided on the old homestead. Children. 
 
62 
 
 1. Justin, b. in Hatfield, Jun. 2, 1797. 
 
 2. George, b. in Hatfielu, Nov., 17!)S, m. (1) Mary White, 
 (2) Melissa Preston. 
 
 3. Dolly, b. in Hatfield, Jan. 24, 1801, m. Justin Hastings, 
 of Hatfield. 
 
 George Waite°, son of Elisha', b. in Hatfield, Nov., 1798, d. 
 Nov. 8, 1869, m. (1) March 2, 1820, Mary, dau. of Elijah and 
 Mary (Smith) White, of Hatfield. She was b. Dec. 13, 1795, 
 d. Nov. 6, 1827, aged 32. (2) 1832, Melissa Preston, dau. of 
 Joel and Aphia (Stebbins) Preston, of Granby, Mass. She was 
 b. Nov. 5, 1802, d. Oct., 1878. Children. 
 
 1. George W., b. in Hatfield, July 12, 1836. Supt. of 
 schools at Oberlin, 0. 
 
 2. Charles P., b. in Hatfield, July 26, 1838. Killed in the 
 army in 1863. 
 
 3. Henry L., b. in Hatfield, March, 1840. Resides in Brook- 
 lyn, N. Y. 
 
 ' 4. John E., b. in Hatfield, Oct. 24, 1841. Went to the W^est. 
 
 Justin Waite", son of Elisha', b. in Hatfield, June 2, 1797, d. 
 Feb. 3, 1851, m. Dec. 6, 1821, Olive Cooley, dau. of Jonah and 
 Ziriah (Allis) Cooley, of Somers, Conn. She was b. Feb. 5, 
 1795, d. Jan. 9, 1875. Resided in Hatfield, a farmer. 4 chil- 
 dren. 
 
 1. Angelina, b. Oct. 14, 1822, m. Nov. 30, 1842, Wm. H. 
 Dickinson. 
 
 2 James Otis, b. Apr. 23, 1825. 
 
 3. EmmaZ., b. Dec. 25, 1831, m. May 30, 1854, Alden P. 
 Deals, and d. May 24, 1855. 
 
 4. Augusta 0., b. Nov. 18, 1836, m. June 14, 1856, Alden 
 P. Beals. 
 
 James Otis Waite', son of Justin", b. in Hatfield, April 23, 
 1825, m. May 13, 1851, Louisa Lyman, dau. of Jeremiah and 
 Orpha (Bush) Lyman, of Easthampton. She was b. Dec 31, 
 1824. He resides in Hatfield and is held in high esteem by his 
 townsmen. 6 children. 
 
63 
 
 1. Justin L., b. in Hatfield, June 28, 1862. 
 
 2. Clara Z., b. in Hatfield, Aug. 2, 1854, d. June 4, 1860. 
 
 3. Frederic H., b. in Hatfield, d. June 27, 1860. 
 
 4. Emma A., b. in Hatfield, July 26, 1856. 
 
 5. Mary L., b. in Hatfield, Sept. 26, 1858. 
 
 6. Ellen A., b. in Hatfield, May 20, 1861. 
 
 DICKINSON. 
 
 A large and influential family have descended from Nathaniel 
 and Ann Dickinson, and Nathaniel himself filled many impor- 
 tant places. He was in Wethersfield, Conn., in 1637, or during 
 the Pequot war, and tradition makes him one of the followers 
 of Capt. Mason against the Pequots. He was town clerk of 
 Wethersfield in 1645, and meniberof the Conn, legislature fiom 
 1646 to 1656. He and his sons, John and Thomas, engaged to 
 go to Hadley, April 18, 1659, and he was one of the committee 
 of five who went in advance of the others to lay out home lots 
 on '' Old Hadley Street. " He served as selectman in Hadley. 
 He approved and voted for the settlement of Hatfield, and two 
 of his sons, Nathaniel and Samuel, were among the twenty-five 
 persons engaging to come to the West Side. Of his children, 
 we only follow Joseph. 
 
 Joseph Dickinson^ son of Nathaniel, b. in Wethersfield, Ct. 
 Freeman, of Conn., 1G57, removed to Northampton, 1664, 
 where he remained until 1674, when he removed to Northfield, 
 and was killed the next year while in service with Capt. Beers, 
 Sept. 4, 1675. He m. before his removal to Northfield, Phebe 
 Bracy, and by her had 6 children, 5 of them sons. Among 
 them was Nathaniel. 
 
 Nathaniel Dickinson^ sou of Joseph^ b. in Northampton 
 May 20, 1670, d. 1745, m. Hannah, dau. of Lt. Daniel and 
 Sarah (Cross) White, of Hatfield. Resided in Hatfield, had 9 
 children. Among them was Obadiah. For the others see 
 White Gen., page 32. 
 
 Obadiah Dickinson^ son of NathanieP, b. in Hatfield, July 
 28, 1704, d. June 24, 1788, aged 84 years. Dr. Lyman preached 
 his funeral sermon from the text in EccL, 7: 1 — " A good name 
 is better than precious ointment ; and the day of death than the 
 
64 
 
 day of one's birth," to a large congregation. He was much in 
 office, a very prominent citizen. Was the owner of an immense 
 quantity of lands, situated in Hatfield and contiguous towns. 
 A deacon in the church. He ni. (1) May 26, 1726, Mary, dau. 
 of John and Sarah (Waite) Belding, of Hatfield. She was b. 
 July, 1705, d. Feb. 10, 1747. She bore him 10 children, m. 
 (2) Martha, dau. of Joseph and Mary (Warner) Waite. She 
 was b. Oct. 7, 1724, ci. Nov. 18, 1785. She bore him 9 chil- 
 dren, as we learn from his own records, still extant, though the 
 History of Hadley only enumerates 12 of them. 
 
 1. Elijah, b. in Hatfield, July 31, 1727, d. probably Jan. 26, 
 1813, aged 86 years. 
 
 2. Elihu, b. in Hatfield, Oct. 11, 1729, d. Aug. 31, 1742. 
 
 3. Lucy, b. in Hatfield, Nov. 10, 1731, m. Eleazer Allis, of 
 ^Hatfield. 
 
 4. Lois, b. in Hatfield, Dec. 9, 1733, d. Aug. 27, 1742. 
 
 5. Israel, b. in Hatfield, Feb. 21, 1736, m. Nov. 20, 1764, 
 Mercy Partridge, of Hiitfield. 
 
 6. Hannah^ b. in Hatfield, Oct. 4, 1738, m. Nov. 14, 1755, 
 Julius Allis, of Conway. 
 
 7. Obadiah, b. in Hatfield, Dec. 6, 1740, d. at 20 months. 
 
 8. Submit, b. in Hatfield, Oct. 21, 1742, m. 1766, Samuel 
 Gaylord, of Hadley. 
 
 9. Lois, b. in Hatfield, Aug. 5, 1744, m. 1770, John C. Wil- 
 liams, of Hadley. 
 
 10. Mary, b. in Hatfield, Jan., 1746, d. the next year 
 
 11. Mary, b. in Hatfield, Jan. 6, 1748, m. Jan." 27, 1774, 
 Elisha Allis, of AVhately. 
 
 12. Obadiah, b. in Hatfield, March 27, 1751, d. Oct. 11, 
 1755, aged 4 years 7 months. 
 
 13. Infant, b. in Hatfield, April 12, 1753, d. 
 
 14. Elihu, b. in Hatfield, Sept. 4, 1755. 
 
 15. Obadiah, b. in Hatfield, Aug. 31, 1757, m. June 28, 
 1787, Sopliia Pomeroy, of Northfield. 
 
 16. Martha, b. in Hatfield, Sept. 14, 1759, d. same day. 
 
 17. Martha, b. in Hatfield, Oct. 26, 1761, m. Oct. 29, 1790, 
 John Hurrett, of Northfield, a famous lawyer of his day. 
 
 18. Sihis, b. in Hatfield, April 3, 1764, d. Aug. 26, 1775. 
 
 19. Sylvia, b. in Hatfield, May 6, 1766, d at 6 weeks. 
 
65 
 
 Elilm Dickinson^, sou of Dea. Obadiah\ b. in Hatfield, Sept. 
 4, 1755, d. Aug. 8, 1809 aged 54 years ; m. 1779, Mary Smith, 
 dau. of John and Mary Smith, of Hatfield. She was b. 1751, 
 d. May 23, 1820, aged 69 years. A farmer and resident at Hat- 
 field on the»old Homestead of Fathers. Had children. 
 
 1. Cotton, b. at Hatfield, Sept 13, 1779, d. Sept. 27, 1799. 
 
 2. Israel, b. at Hatfield, Sept. 23, 1781, m. Polly Dickinson. 
 
 3. William, b. at Hatfield, June 13, 1783. 
 
 4. Pamelia, b. at Hatfield, June 21, 1785, m. Joseph Long- 
 ley, of Shirley. 
 
 5. Silas, b. in Hatfield, Oct. 20, L786, d. unm. Oct. 7, 1873, 
 aged 87 years. 
 
 6. Clarissa, b. in Hatfield, April 11, 1788, m. Edmund 
 Longley, of Boston. 
 
 7. Son, b. at Hatfield, May 19, 1791, died May 24, 1791. 
 
 8. Daughter, b. at Hatfield, Jan. 11, 1792, d. same day. 
 
 William Dickinson", son of Elihu", b. at Hatfield, June 13, 
 1783, d. Dec. 29, 1870. aged 87 years, m. Fanny, dau. of 
 Lieut. Samuel and Sarah (White) Smith. She was b. in Hat- 
 field, 1787, d. Feb. 21, 1853, aged 65 years 6 months. A farmer 
 by occupation, liv^d on the old Dea. Obadiah Dickinson home- 
 stead in Hatfield. Had children. 
 
 1. John S., b. at Hatfield, Oct. 11, 1814, d. Jan. 23, 1853. 
 
 2. Mary Smith, b. at Hatfield, Aug. 26, 1816, d. Sept. 21, 
 1838. 
 
 3. William Henry, b. at Hatfield, March 4, 1820. 
 
 William Henry Dickinson', son of William", b, nt Hatfield, 
 March 4, 1820, m. Nov. 30, 1842, Miss Angelina Waite, dau. of 
 Justin and Olive (Cooley) Waite of Hatfield. She was born in 
 Hatfield Oct. 14, 1822. He is a farmer, bank director, and 
 prominent in town and county. His cliildren were all born on 
 the old homestead that was for so long a time occupied by his 
 ancestors. Children. 
 
 1. James Waite, b. at Hatfield, Oct. 24, 1844, m. 
 
 2. Mary Smith, b. at Hatfield, Oct, 14, 1847, d. Aug. 13, 
 1849. 
 
 5 
 
3. Sarah Emma, b. Nov. 23, 1851, m. Dec. 13, 1871, Elijah 
 Ashley Bardwell, of Hatfield. He was b. Feb. 1, 1846. She 
 had one son, and d. Aug. 10, 1876 ; son named James Dickinson 
 Bardwell, b. at Hatfield, May 10, 1876. 
 
 4. William Cooley, b. at Hatfield, Sept, 18, 1853, unm. 
 
 James Waite Dickinson", son of Wm. H'., b. at Hatfield, 
 Oct. 24, 1844. d. Nov. 10, 1868, m. Nov. 14, 1867, Avie M. 
 Wood, dau. of Eliphas H. and Sarah (Bartlett) Wood, of 
 Whately. She was b. Sept. 5, 1844 ; res. in Hatfield ; they had 
 one child. 
 
 1. Mary J., b. at Hatfield, Sept. 26, 1868. 
 
 BARDWELL. 
 
 Little is known of the Bardwell ancestry in England. The 
 Gazetteer of the World, 6 Vol. 8vo., Edinburgh, 1850, mentions 
 Bardwell parish, Suffolk Co.; and Beauties of Eug. and Wales, 
 18 Vol., London, 1813, on Suffolk, says Bardwell is said to have 
 given name to the family of Bardwells, who were here as early 
 as the time of William the Conqueror. Sir William Bardwell, 
 a celebrated soldier, whose effigy still adorns the window of the 
 parish church, died in 1434 "seized of this manor." The coat 
 of arms of the family indicate warlike proclivities. 
 
 Robert Bardwell came to this country from London, England, 
 in 1670, being then twenty-three years old. He became an 
 "Indian fighter" and carried dispatches to Hadlev in 1674, 
 during King Philip's war. Remaining and becoming a resident 
 of Hatfield, on May 17, 1675, he led the Hatfield boys under 
 Capt. Turner, at the Turners Falls fight. He lived on the 
 place which forty years ago was known as the Alpheus Longley 
 place. 
 
 Robert Bardwell m. Mary, dau. of Wm. Gull, of Hatfield, 
 Nov. 29, 1676. He d. Jan. 9, 1726. Killed by a falling tim- 
 ber at the raising of a barn, aged 79 years. She d. Nov. 12, 
 1726. They had 11 children. For dates of birth, see History 
 of Hadley, pp. 450. 
 
67 
 
 Ebenezer BardwelP, son of Robert', b. in Hatfield, Oct. ]9, 
 1679, d. July 13, 1732, m. April 25, 1706, Mary, dan. of Joseph 
 and' Joanna (Wyatt) Field, of Hatfield. She was b. July 18, 
 1684. They resided on the estate that descended from Robert. 
 Had children. 
 
 1. Ebenezer, b. in Hatfield, Sept. 10, 1707, m. Elizabeth 
 Gillett and removed to Whately. 
 
 2. Hannah, b. in Hatfield, Jan. 24, 1709. 
 
 3. Joseph, " " 1711. 
 
 4. Remembrance, '* 1713. 
 
 5. Esther, " " 1715, d. soon. 
 
 6. Jonathan, " " Jan. 5, 1718. We have no knowl- 
 edge of what ever became of Jonathan or Joseph ; they were 
 living in 1732, because the widow Mary was appointed guardian 
 of Joseph, who was 21 years old, and of Jonathan and of three 
 other younger children. They probably died soon or were of 
 weak minds. 
 
 7. Abigail, b. in Hatfield, Oct 14, 1722, m. Noah Wells and 
 rem. to Wliately. 
 
 8. Esther, b. in Hatfield, Dec. 16, 1723, m. 1743, Daniel 
 Morton, and rem. to Whately. 
 
 Remembrance BardwelP, son of Ebenezer", b. in Hatfield, 
 1713, d. Nov. 19, 1779, m. 1742, Hannah, dau. of Ebenezer 
 and Hannah (Frary) Dickinson, of Hatfield. She was b. Feb. 
 17, 1715, and d. March 16, 1788 ; resided on the old homestead, 
 a man of much prominence and influence. Children. 
 
 1. Sarah, b. in Hatfield, Aug. 30. 1743, m. March 14, 1770, 
 Jesse Billings. 
 
 2. Noah, b. in Hatfield, April 28, 1748, m. Lucy Waite and 
 rem to Whately. 
 
 3. Hannah, b. in Hatfield, Aug. 4, 1750, m. Aaron Dickin- 
 son, of North Hatfield. 
 
 4. Seth, b. in Hatfield, Dec. 23, 1752. 
 
 Seth Bard weir, son of Remembrance^ b. in Hatfield, Dec. 23, 
 1752. Killed by lightning, June 16, 1795, aged 43 years, m. 
 May, 31, 1773, Hannah Dickinson, dau. of Salmon, of Hatfield. 
 She was b. 17 — . He settled on the old Bardwell homestead ; 
 an active business man. Children. 
 
1. Elijah, b. in Hatfield, Nov. 12, 1775. 
 
 2. Silas, b. in Hatfield, April 27, 1777, m. Pamelia, dan. of 
 Wm. Morton. 
 
 3. Lois, b. in Hatfield, Nov. 7, 1779, m. Oct. 18, 1808, Al- 
 pheus Longley. 
 
 4. Remembrance, b. in Hatfield, Feb. 17, 1782, m. Sophia, 
 dau. of John Allis. 
 
 5. Seth, Jr., b. in Hatfield, May 18, 1784, m. Ann Warner, 
 of Williamsburg. 
 
 6. Hannah, b. in Hatfield, July 31, 1786, d. soon. 
 
 7. William, b. in Hatfield, Aug. 21, 1788, m. Jan. 21, 1814, 
 Sabro Swift. 
 
 8. Oliver, b. in Hatfield, April 25, 1791, d. Dee. 17, 1802. 
 
 9. Jeremiah, b. in Hatfield, May 5, 1793, m. Rosamond 
 Harris. 
 
 10. Salmon D., b. in Hatfield, Feb. 29, 1796, m. Lucy Ann 
 White. 
 
 Elijah BardwelP, son of Seth\ b. in Hatfield, Nov. 12, 1775, 
 d. Feb. 16, 1857, aged 82 years, m. Jan. 2, 1800, Miriam 
 Dickinson, dau. of Joseph, of Hatfield. She was b. Aug. 30, 
 1781, and d. Oct. 8, 1841. They lived and died in their native 
 town, respected by all. 3 children. 
 
 1. Hannah, b. in Hatfield, 1801, d. Jan. 2, 1893. 
 
 2. Elijah, Jr., " " Sept. 13, 1802. 
 
 3. Hannah, " " May 7, 1812, m. Nov. 27, 1837, 
 Asahel Wright, of Deerfield, and she d. May 4, 1874. 
 
 Elijah Bardweir, son of Elijah', b. in Hatfield, Sept. 13, 
 1802, d. March 28, 1883, aged 81 years, m. Dec. 12, 1833, 
 Cynthia Field, dau. of Lucius, of Leverett. She was b. July 
 28, 1810, d. Feb. 14, 1878. He was an active business man, 
 much in public life. 6 children. 
 
 1. Martha Jane, b. in Hatfield, July 5, 1838. 
 
 2. Caleb Dickinson, Jr., b. in Hatfield, Sept. 28, 1840, m. 
 Sarah A. Warner. 
 
 3. Henry Field, b. in Hatfield, Nov. 6, 1842, m. Alice L. 
 Brown. 
 
69 
 
 4. Elijah Ashley, b. in Hatfield, Feb. 1, 1846, m. Sarah E. 
 Dickinson. 
 
 5. Asahel Wright, b. in Hatfield, May 28, 1848, drowned 
 July 28, 1864. 
 
 6. Frederick Harrison, b. in Hatfield, Feb. 12, 1854. 
 
 Frederick Harrison", son of Elijah", b. in Hatfield, Feb. 12, 
 1854, m. Dec. 4, 1879, Maria Irene Curtis, dau. of Lucius, of 
 Hatfield. She was b. Sept. 23, 1857. They reside on the 
 homestead of his father. Children. 
 
 1. Ruby Irene b. in Hatfield, March ]4, 1883. 
 
 2. Arthur Curtis Jr., b. in Hatfield, Aug. 10, 1885. 
 
 3. Homer Frederick, " " Dec. 19, 1887. 
 
 GRAVES. 
 
 Thomas Graves came to America in 1644 or 1645. He had 
 lands granted him in Hartford, Conn., March 14, 1649 — see 
 London Records, Vol. 2, p. 18. His sons, Isaac and John, 
 were among those who agreed to remove to Hatfield before Mar. 
 25, 1661, Thomas came with them. He had by his wife, 
 Sarah, five children, viz., Isaac, John, Samuel, Nathaniel, and 
 a daughter, probably named Elizabeth. Isaac and John were 
 among the slain at Hatfield, Sept. 19, 1677, Nathaniel died at 
 Wethersfield, Sept. 28, 1682. Six days after the massacre, 
 Sept. 25th, the Northampton Court records show the appoint- 
 ment of John Allice, of Hatfield, to the oflBce of clerk of the 
 writs for that town in place of Isaac Graves, deceased. 
 
 Isaac Graves m. Mary Church ; 10 children were born to 
 them. For names and dates, see History of Hadley, p. 501. 
 
 John Graves^ son of Isaac", b. in Hatfield, in 1664. His 
 wife Sarah bore him 9 children. For records see History of 
 Hadley. So far as our purpose is concerned we will only follow 
 Elnathan. 
 
 Elnathau Graves', son of John', b. in Hatfield, Aug. 20, 
 1699, d. Feb. 17, 1785, aged 85 years, m. (1) March 2, 1727, 
 Martha, dau. of Dea. Nathaniel Dickison, of Hatfield. She 
 
70 
 
 was b, Dec. 25, 1701, d. Jan. 9, 1756, aged 55. (2) in. Doro- 
 thy Belding, a dau. of Ebenezer Morton, of Hatfield, a widow 
 of John Belding. Res in Hatfield. Had children. 
 
 1. Seth, b. in Hatfield, Dec. 27, 1727, m. Mary, dau. of 
 Col. John Dickinson. 
 
 2. Perez, b. in Hatfield, April 26, 1730. 
 
 3. Silas, " " Feb. 8, 1732, m. Hannah Field, 
 dan. of John and Editha Field. 
 
 4. Lucy, b. in Hatfield, May 8, 1734. m. Benjamin Wells. 
 
 5. Martha, " " Feb. 26, 1739, m. John Nash, of 
 Williamsburg. 
 
 Capt. Perez Graves", son of Elnathan^, b. in Hatfield, April 
 
 20, 1730, d , aged — years, m. (1) May 16, 1754, Martha, 
 
 dau. of Samuel Gillett, of Hatfield, d . m. (2) Zeruiah, 
 
 widow of Lt. Elihu White and dau. of I^^benezer Cole, of Hat- 
 field. She was b. Nov. 30, 1741, d. Dec. 13, 1820. Res. in 
 Hatfield. Children. 
 
 1. Samuel, b. in Hatfield, May 4, 1755, d. 1818, m. Abigail 
 Edgerton. of Sterling. 
 
 2. Elisha, b. in Hatfield, Sept. 2, 1757, m. Catherine Par- 
 sons, of Northampton, where he resided, and his descendants 
 are quite numerous there ; among them is H. B. Graves. 
 
 3. Martha, b. in Hatfield, April 28, 1759, m. Moses Monta- 
 gue. 
 
 4. Perez, b. in Hatfield, Jan. 2, 1761, d. 1856, aged 82 yrs. 
 m. (1) Miss Bryant, of Chesterfield, (2) Catherine Parsons, of 
 Northampton. 
 
 5. Elnathan, b. in Hatfield, Feb. 2, 1763, d. June, 1827, m. 
 Lydia Pomeroy, of Northampton. 
 
 6. William, b. in Hatfield, Feb. 11, 1766, a clergyman set- 
 tled in Woodstock, Ct. 
 
 7. Solomon, b. in Hatfield, March 12. 1768. 
 
 8. Levi, '• " Jan. 12, 1772, m. Nov. 20, 1799, 
 Mary Smith, of South Hadley. 
 
 9. Timothy, b. in Hatfield, April 30, 1775, m. Lydia Graves, 
 dau. of Amasa Graves, of Middlefield, Mass. 
 
71 
 
 At an early period of the settlement of Williamsburg, Elna- 
 than^ bought a large tract of land there and subsequently three 
 sons of Capt. Perez Graves^ settled on this land viz.: — Samuel, 
 Perez, Jr., and Elnathan. This last named was the father of 
 Dea. Elnathan Graves, of Williamsburg, the long time County 
 Commissioner of Hampshire County. 
 
 Solomon Graves^ son of Capt. Perez", b. in Hatfield, March 
 12, 1768, d. Oct. 8, 1843, aged 75 years, m. 1793, Esther Bliss, 
 dau. of Ebenezer and Sarah (Cooley) Bliss, of Longmeadow, 
 Mass. She was b. 1763, and d. May 26, 1839. Resided in Hat- 
 field, a farmer. Had children. 
 
 1. Thaddeus, b. in Hatfield, Sept. 11, 1794, m. Polly Gerry, 
 of Hatfield, b. Sept. 3, 1797. 
 
 2. Eliza, b. in Hatfield, June 26, 1796, m. John Wells, of 
 Williamsburg. 
 
 3. Solomon, b. in Hatfield, Dec. 3, 1798. 
 
 4. Ebenezer, " " March 31, 1801, m. Rowena 
 Wells, of Williamsburg. 
 
 5. William, b. in Hatfield, Dec. 30, 1804, d. while pursuing 
 his college course. 
 
 Solomon Graves', son of Solomon", b. in Hatfield, Dec. 3, 
 1798, d. June 25, 1867, aged 68 years, 7 months, m. (1) Nov. 
 25, 1821, Pamelia Osborne, of Hadfey ; d. Dec. 27, 1825. He 
 ra. (2) 1831, Sophia, dau. of Consider and Mercy (Clark) Mor- 
 ton, of Whately. She was b. Nov. 5, 1801, and d. June 15, 
 1880. He was a farmer and res. at Hatfield. Children. 
 
 1. William, b. in Hatfield, Dec. 22, 1825, m. Louise Smith. 
 
 2. Thaddeus, '' " Nov. 1, 1834. 
 
 3. Sophia, " " June 4, 1836, m. March 29, 1859, 
 E. J. King. She d. Jan. 11, 1872, had one dau. Mary A., b. 
 June 14, 1860. 
 
 Thaddeus Graves^ son of Solomon', b. in Hatfield, Nov. 1, 
 1834, m. Nov. 2, 1866, Mary A. dau. of John and Mrs. Clarissa 
 (Clapp) Hubbard, of Hatfield. She was b. Aug. 16, 1834. 
 
72 
 
 They reside in Hatfield. He is a graduate of Amherst College, 
 a member of the Hampshire County Bar, and is a very success- 
 ful farmer, occupying the farm formerly owned by his father. 
 Children. 
 
 1. Clara L., b. in Hatfield, Oct. 9, 1867. 
 
 2. Laura H., " " June 24, 1869. 
 
 3. Mary Augusta, " May 27, 1871. 
 
 4. AnnaM. " " Sept. 17, 1873. 
 
 5. Thaddeus, " " May 27, 1874. 
 
APPENDIX. 
 
 The following papers were not read at the Anniversary Exer-, 
 cises, but are closely related to the events which they 
 commemorate, and are published for reference and pres- 
 ervation. 
 
 Mr. Judd : — I enclose you a correct copy of the Rev. Hope 
 Atherton's letter, I mentioned, etc. Hoping it may be of value 
 to your purpose, I remain, 
 
 Yours truly, 
 
 Henry R. Stiles, M. D. 
 
 New York, No. 1, Wall St., 
 Sept. 19, 1857. 
 
 Extract from a letter of " Stephen Williams, Longmeadow," 
 (dated June 8, 1781) which accompanied the above letter, 
 addressed to President Stiles. 
 
 " In looking over my papers I found a copy of a paper left by 
 the Rev. Mr. Hope Atherton, the first minister at Hatfield, who 
 was ordained May 10, 1670. This Mr. Atherton went out with 
 the forces (commanded by Captain Turner, captain of tl>e gar- 
 rison soldiers, and Capt. Holyoke of the county militia) against 
 the Indians at the falls above Deerfield, in May, 1676. In the 
 fight upon their retreat, Mr. Atherton was unhorsed and separa- 
 ted from the company, wandered in the woods some days and 
 then got into Hadley, which is on the east side of the Connecti- 
 cut River. But the fight was on the west side. Mr. Atherton 
 gave account that he had offered to surrender himself to the 
 
 (73) 
 
74 
 
 enemy, but they would not receive him. Many people were not 
 willing to give credit to his account — suggesting that he was 
 beside himself. This occasioned him to publish to his congre- 
 gation and leave in writing the account I enclose to you. I had 
 the paper from which this is copied from his only son, with 
 whom it was left. The account is doubtless true, for Jonathan 
 Wells, Esq., who was in the fight and lived afterward at Deer- 
 field, and was intimately acquainted with the Indians after the 
 war, did himself inform me that the Indians told him that after 
 the falls JigJd, that a little man with a black coat and without 
 any hat, came toward them, but they were afraid and ran from 
 them [him ?], thinking it was the English man's God :" etc. 
 
 REV. MR. ATHERTON'S LETTER. 
 
 Hope Atherton desires this Congregation and all people that 
 shall hear of the Lord's dealings with him, to praise and give 
 thanks to God for a series of remarkable deliverances wrought 
 for him. The passages of divine providence (being considered 
 together) make up a complete temporal salvation. I have passed 
 through the Valley of the Shadow of Death, and both the rod and 
 staff of God delivered me. A particular relation of extreme suf- 
 ferings that I have undergone, and signal escapes that the Lord 
 hath made way for, I make openly, that glory may be given to 
 him, for his works that have been wonderful in themselves, and 
 marvellous in mine eyes ; and will be so in the eyes of all whose 
 hearts are prepared to believe what I shall relate. On the 
 morning (May, 1676) that followed the night, in which I went 
 out against the enemy with others, I was in eminent danger 
 through an instrument of death ; a gun was disciiarged against 
 me at a small distance ; the Lord diverted the bullet so that no 
 harm Was done me. When I was separated from the army, none 
 pursued after me, as if God had given the heathen a charge, 
 saying, let him alone, he shall have his life for a prey. The 
 night following I wandered up and down among the dwellin'g 
 places of our enemies ; but none of them espied me. Sleep fell 
 upon their eyes and slumbering upon their eyelids. Their dogs 
 moved not their tongues. The next day I was encompassed 
 with enemies, unto whom I tendered myself a captive. The 
 
76 
 
 Providence of God seemed to require me so to do. No way 
 appeared to escape, and I had been a long time without food. 
 They accepted not the tender which I made ; when I spake they 
 answered not. When I moved toward tliem, tliey moved away 
 from me. I expected they would have laid hands upon me, but 
 they did not. Understanding that this seems strange and in- 
 credible unto some, I have considered wliether I was not de- 
 ceived ; and after consideration of all things, I cannot find suf- 
 ficient grounds to alter my thoughts. If any have reason to 
 judge otherwise than myself, who am less than the least in the 
 Kingdom of God, I desire them to intimate what their reason is. 
 When I have mused, that which hath cast my thoughts accord- 
 ing to the report I first made is, tiiat it tends to the glory of 
 God in no small measure ; if it were so as I believe it was, that 
 I was encompassed with cruel and unmerciful enemies, and they 
 were restrained by the hand of God from doing the least injury 
 to me. This evidenceth that the Most High ruleth in the king- 
 dom of men, and doth wliatsoever pleaseth him among them. 
 Enemies cannot do what they will, but are subservient to over- 
 ruling providence of God. God always can and sometimes doth 
 set bounds unto the wrath of man. On the same day, which 
 was the last day of the week, not long before the sun did set, I 
 declared witli submission that I would go to the Indian habita- 
 tions. I spake such language as I thought they understood. 
 Accordingly I endeavored ; but God, whose thoughts were 
 higher than my thoughts, prevented me by his good providence. 
 I was carried beside the path I intended to walk in and brought 
 to the sides of the great river, which was a good guide unto me. 
 The most observable passage of providence was on the Sabbath- 
 day morning. Having entered upon a plain, I saw two or three 
 spies, who I (at first) thought had a glance upon me. Where- 
 fore I turned aside and lay down. They climbed up into a tree 
 to spie. Then my soul secretly begged of God, that lie would 
 put it into their hearts to go away. I waited patiently and it 
 was not long ere they went away. Then I took that course 
 which I thought best according to the wisdom that God had 
 given me. 
 
 Two things I must not pass ovei' that are matters of thanks- 
 giving unto God ; the first is that when my strength was far spent, 
 I passed thiough deep waters and they overflowed me not ac- 
 
76 
 
 cording to those gracious words of Isa. 43:2; the second is, 
 that I subsisted the space of three days and part of a fourth 
 without ordinary food. I thought upon those words " Man liv- 
 eth not by bread alone but by every word that proceedeth out of 
 the mouth of the Lord." I think not to too much to say that 
 should you and I be silent and not set forth the praises of God 
 through Jesus Christ that the stones and beams of our houses 
 would sing hallelujah. I am not conscious to myself that I 
 have exceeded in speech. If I have spoken beyond what is con- 
 venient, I know it not. I leave these lines as an ori^han, and 
 shall rejoice to hear that it finds foster Fathers and Mothers. 
 However it fare amongst men, yet if it find acceptance with 
 Grod, thro' Christ Jesus I shall have cause to be abundantly satis- 
 fied. God's providence hath been so wonderful towards me, not 
 because I have more wisdom than others (Danl. 2:30) nor be- 
 cause I am more righteous than others, but because it so pleased 
 God. H. A. 
 
 Hatfield, May 24th, 1676. 
 
 NARRATIVE OF THE WONDERFUL ESCAPE OF 
 JONATHAN WELLS. 
 
 Taken down from his own mouth about fifty-three years after the event. 
 
 Lying before me, is a manuscript, from which some vandal 
 has cut the signature, but clearly in the handwriting of Stephen, 
 son of Rev. John Williams, our first minister, dated, " Spring- 
 field, L. M. Feb. 1, 1731-2." The substance of this was pub- 
 lished by Rev. John Taylor, in an appendix to the Redeemed 
 Captive, in 1793, but it seems fitting to give the entire paper on 
 this occasion. Mr. Taylor prefaces the story by saying it was 
 " the substance of an attested copy of the account, taken from 
 his own mouth.'' At the date of this manuscript Mr. Wells, 
 the hero in fact and name, was living in Deerfieid where he died 
 Jan. 3, 1738-9. To this paper will be added some statements 
 connected with it, from other MSS. in the same handwriting, to- 
 gether with a tradition elucidating one point in the narrative. 
 
77 
 
 ESCAPE OF JONATHAN WELLS. 
 
 " I shall give an act of the remarkable providences of God 
 towards Jonathan Wells, Esq., (then aged 16 years and 2 or 3 
 months who was in this action (at the Falls fight, May 19). He 
 was wth the 20 men yt were obliged to fight wth the enemy to 
 recover their horses ; after he mounted his horse a little while 
 (being then in the rear of ye company), he was fired at by three 
 Indians who were very near him ; one bullet passed so near him 
 as to brush his hair, another struck his horse behind a third 
 struck his thigh, in a place which before had been broken by a 
 cart wheel, and never set, but the bones lapd and so grew to- 
 gether. So yt altho' one end of it had been struck and the bone 
 shatterd by ye bullet, yet the bone was not wholly loosd in ye 
 place where it had knit. Upon receiving his wound he was in 
 danger of falling from his horse, but by catching hold of ye 
 horse's maine he recovered himself. The Indians perceiving 
 they had wound'd him ran up very near to him, but he kept ye 
 Inds back by presenting his gun to ym once or twice and when 
 they stoped to charge, he got rid of them and got up to some of 
 ye company. [In this flight for life, as appears by another scrap 
 on MSS., he stopped and took up behind him Stephen Belding, 
 a boy companion of sixteen years, who thus escaped.] Capt. 
 Turner to whom he represented ye diflBculties of ye men in ye 
 rear and urgd yt he either turn back to ye relief, or tarry a little 
 till they all come up and so go off in a body, but ye Capt. replied 
 he had ' better save some, than lose all,' and quickly ye army 
 were divided into several parties, one pilot crying out * if you 
 love your lives follow me.' Another yt was acquainted with ye 
 woods cryd 'if you love your lives follow me.' Wells fell into 
 the rear again and took wth a small company yt separated from 
 others yt run upon a parcel of Indians near a swamp and was 
 most of ym killed. They then separated again and had about 
 ten men left with him, and his horse failing considerably by rea- 
 son of his wound, and himself spent wth bleeding, he was left 
 with an John Jones, a wounded man likewise. He had now got 
 about 2 miles from ye place where yy did ye exploit in and now 
 yy had left ye track of ye company and were left both by ye In- 
 dians yt persued ym and by their own men that should have tar- 
 ried with ym. These two men were unacquainted wth ye 
 woods, and without any track or path. J. W. had a gun and J. 
 
78 
 
 J. a sword. J. J. represented ye badness of his wounds, and 
 made liis companion think they were certainly mortall and 
 therefore when yy separated, in order to find the path, J. W. was 
 glad to leave him, lest he slid be a clog or hindrance to him. 
 Mr. W. grew faint, and once when ye Indians presd'him, he v/as 
 near fainting away, but by eating a nutmeg, (which his grand- 
 mother gave him as he was going out,) he was revived. After 
 traveling awhile, he carne upon Green river, and followd it up 
 to ye place calld ye country farms, and passd over Green river 
 and attempted to go up ye mountains, but as he assend'd the 
 hill he faint'd and fell from his horse ; but after a little, he came 
 to himself, and found yt his horse's bridle hung upon his hand 
 and his horse was standing by him. He tyd his horse and laid 
 down again. At length he grew so weak yt he cd not get upon 
 his horse, and conclud'd he must dye there himself, so pitying 
 his horse he disniisd him never thinking to take any provision 
 from him, altho he had three meals of provision behind him. 
 Abt noon this, and at abt sun an hour high at nt, being disturbd 
 by ye flies, he stopd ye touch hole of his gun and struck fire, 
 and set ye woods on fire ; but there being much rubbish, he had 
 like to have been burnt up by it, not being able to get out of ye 
 way ; but by scraping away ye leaves, etc., he was wth much 
 difficulty preserved from burning ; his hands and hair were much 
 burnt notwithstanding all yt he cd do. He then made a fire of 
 some wood yt lay in his reach and lay down by it. Now new 
 fears arose — he concluded yt his fire would direct the Indians 
 where to come to find him, being so weak he cd not stand or go, 
 concluded he must there be killed by ye Indians ; he flung away 
 his powder horn one way and his bullet pouch another, yt yy 
 might not harm you ; reseivinga little horn of powder yt he 
 might have one shot before yy killed him ; but wn ye fire spread 
 considerably, he expected yy wd be as like to look in one place 
 as another, and again took courage, and took some tow and 
 stopd into his wound, and bound it up wth his handkerchief and 
 neckcloth, and so securely laid himself down to sleep ; and 
 when asleep, he dreampt yt his grandfather came to him and 
 told him he was lost, but yt he must go down yt river till he 
 came to ye end of ye mountain and then turn away upon ye 
 plain, (he was now abt 13 miles from Deerfield) and yt was ye 
 way home); when he awoke in ye morning, (having been 
 
79 
 
 refreshd by his sleep and his bleeding being stoped), he found 
 he had some strength, and found yt wth ye help of his gun for 
 a staff he cd go after a poor fashion ; when ye sun arose he 
 found himself lost, (tho before he thot ye direction in ye dream 
 was quite wrong,) but upon considering ye rising of ye sun, etc., 
 he resolved to go according to ye direction of ye dream (he had 
 now got 6 miles further from home than ye place was when they 
 did exploit upon ye enemy,) and picking up his powder horn 
 and bullets he girt up himself and set forward down ye river 
 and found yet at length he came to ye end of ye mountain and 
 to a plain (as in his dream which before he knew nothing of, for 
 he was never above ye place calld Hatfield Clay Gully, before 
 this expedition and when he went up twas in ye nt as before ob- 
 served and he was now many miles from any place where ye 
 army came) he travelled upon ye plain till he came to a foot 
 path wch led up to ye road he went out in, where he cd see ye 
 tracts of ve horses ; he travelled by leaning upon his gun i^s a 
 staff, and so he came down to D'd river, but did not know how 
 to get over ; he met wth much difficulty, for ye stream card his 
 lame leg acrost ye other leg ; but at length by putting the muz- 
 zell of his gun into ye water (for he was loth to wet ye lock) he 
 got over, but filled the muzzell of his gun wth gravel and sand ; 
 being much spent when he got up ye bank, he laid down under 
 a walnut bush and fell asleep, and wn he awoke an Indian was 
 coming over ye river in a cano to him coming ashore to him, 
 near ; his distress was great, he cd not run from his enemy and 
 was quite incapacitated from fighting, (his gun being full of 
 sand and gravell) but he presented his gun, but when the Indian 
 discovered him, he jumped out of his cano (leaving his own gun 
 wch was in ye head of ye cano,) and made his escape and went 
 and told ye Indians yt ye English army was come again for he 
 had seen one of ye scouts. Mr. W. suspecting the Indians 
 wd come to search for him, went away into a swamp (yt was 
 hard by) and finding two great trees yt had been left by ye fiood 
 lying at a little distance from each other and covrd over wth 
 rubbish, he crept in betwixt them and within a little while 
 heard a running to and fro in ye swamp, but saw nothing ; with- 
 in a little while all was still and he ventured to proceed on his 
 journey. (The Indians afterwards gave out that a Narrahgan- 
 sett Indian was going up the river after rats, that he saw ye 
 
80 
 
 track of a man in ye path (yt went up ye bank) and was going 
 to see and saw a man on ye bank and jnmpd out of ye cano, 
 and went and told ye Indians ye English army were coming 
 again yt he had seen one of ye scouts, upon wh yy went to ye 
 place, but not seeing anything, yy concluded he was afrightd 
 groundlessly, for ye narrahgansetts yy sd, were no better than 
 squaws etc., so yy made no strict search.") 
 
 [A digression, hut not to he shipped.'] — The Indian story alone 
 appears to be an attempt to cover up the humiliating fact of 
 their being outwitted by a crippled boy. It is not improbable 
 that Wells told the story as written, with the double purpose of 
 annoying the Indians on a sensitive point, and of concealing the 
 artifice for future emergencies. No one brought up on Cooper's 
 novels, could for a moment believe that Wells escaped in the 
 manner described, and from the writer's boyhood, this part of 
 the story has thrown a shadow of doubt over the whole account 
 of this romantic experience. Any one closely observing a pile of 
 drift wood, will see how difficult it must be for the most careful 
 hand to remove any part of it without leaving unmistakable ev- 
 idence of the disturbance. And the trail of the hobbling boy 
 from the track " in ye path yt went up ye bank " to the great 
 trees and rubbish '' left by ye flood in the swamp" must have 
 been patent to the most casual eye ; let alone an Indian on the 
 trail of an enemy: A more interesting and romantic story of 
 border warfare, in real life, is rarely met with. Carefully trace 
 the events as modestly, naively told, with no whining and no 
 complaint. Note the hero's bravery and coolness when attacked. 
 His knightly courtesy in stopping in his flight to rescue Belding. 
 His thoughtfulness for those behind, and his judgment in 
 pleading with Capt. Turner to keep his command in a body. 
 His humanity in releasing his horse. His resignation when ly- 
 ing down to die. His forethought in putting out of the reach 
 of the foe his powder and bullets. His courage in preparing for 
 "one more shot." His expedient for lighting a fire to keep off 
 the insects. His self possession in building a fire to lie down 
 by, after his narrow escape from being burned to death. His 
 clear headedness when "lost" or "turned round" in the 
 morning. His persistive care for his gun and ammunition. 
 His ingenuity in saving himself when in the very jaws of the 
 enemy. His fortitude under the discouragements by the way, 
 
81 
 
 and his expedients for overcoming them. His reverence and 
 care for the dead at Bloody lirook — here stand clearly revealed 
 traits of the noblest character, in a lad ripened to self reliance 
 by the exigencies of frontier life. It is with great satisfaction 
 that the writer is able to disipate the faint shadow resting upon 
 the narrative. 
 
 The key to this remarkable escape is found in a tradition 
 handed down in the family, and given me by Rodney B. Field, 
 of Guilford, Vt, By this it appears that the "■ two great trees 
 yt had been left by ye flood lying a little distance from each 
 other and covered over with brush " were lying, one end on the 
 river bank with the other projected into, and supported by, the 
 water. Wading along to the nearest tree, ducking his head un- 
 der the trunk and standing erect between the two, with head 
 above water. Wells was securely hid, and no trace of his foot- 
 steps was left. This was a device which might well baffle his 
 pursuers and was worthy of Leatherstocking himself. The real 
 danger, that which could not have been forseen, appeared when 
 the Indians in their " running to and fro " stoped for a moment 
 on this cover; under their weight it sank, forcing the poor boy's 
 head under the water, so that several times he was nearly 
 drowned. 
 
 Narrative resumed. "In Deerfield meadows he found some 
 horses' bones from which he got away some small matter ; found 
 two rotted beans in ye meadows where ye Indians had thrashed 
 ye beans, and two blew birds eggs wch was all ye provision he 
 had till he got home. He got up to D'f'd town plat before dark 
 Saturday, but ye town was burned before and no inluibitants, so 
 he kept along. His method of traveling was to go a little ways 
 and then lye down to rest, and was wont to fall asleep, but in ye 
 nt twice he mistook himself when he awoke, and went back 
 again till coming to some remarkable places he was convinced of 
 his mistake and so turned abt again, and at length he took this 
 method, to lay ye muzzell of his gun towards his course, but 
 losing so much, he was discouraged, and laid himself down once 
 and again expecting to dye ; but after some recruit was encour- 
 aged to set forward again, but meeting vvth these difficulties he 
 spent ye whole nt in getting to muddy brook (or as some call it 
 bloody brook) ; here he buried a man's head, in ye path, yt was 
 drawn out of ye grave by some vermin, with clefts of wood, etc. 
 
82 
 
 and upon ye road to HT d was (like Sampson after tlie slaughter 
 of ye Philistines) distresd for want of drink, and many times 
 ready to faint, yet got no water till he came to Clay Gully, but 
 divers times he was refreshd by holding his head over candle- 
 wood knots yt were on fire, ye woods being then on fire on ye 
 plains and got to Hatfield between meetings on Sabbath day. 
 
 He lay lame under Dr. Lock for some time, and was under 
 Mrs. Allen and Mr. Buckley four years and 2 months (in all) 
 and never had anything allowed him for time or smart, tho yy 
 pd ye surgeon ; he lay at one time half a year in one spot on a 
 bed wthout being turned once, or once taken out, often dispaird 
 of his life, all his skin came off his back by lying in one pos- 
 ture." 
 
 On another paper he refers to an account of the wonderful 
 providence of God towards the Rev. Hope Atherton, who was 
 likewise in the expedition. He was unhorsed, lost and left, and 
 would have surrendered himself to the Indians, but they would 
 not receive him, but ran from him. He got over the Great 
 River and got safe into Hadley. This account was drawn up 
 by himself and signed by himself, but the account would be too 
 long to insert in this extract, etc. 
 [See page 73.] 
 
 "The Indians have given the account following to Jonathan 
 Wells, Esq., viz., that the Monday after the fight, 8 English- 
 men that were lost came to them and offered to submitt them- 
 selves to them, if they would not put them to death, but 
 whether they promised tbem quarter or not, they took them, 
 and burnt them ; the method of burning them was to cover 
 them with thatch and put fire to it, and set them a running ; 
 and when one coat of thatch was burnt up, they would put on 
 another, and the barbarious creatures that have given this ac- 
 count of their inhumanity, have in a scoffiing manner added, 
 that the Englishmen would cry out as they were burning, oh 
 dear ! oh dear ! The Indians themselves account it very un- 
 manly to moan and make ado under the torments and cruelties 
 of their enemies who put them to death." 
 
83 
 
 OFFICIAL CORRESPONDENCE IN RELATION TO 
 WAITE AND JENNINGS' RANSOM OF CAPTIVES. 
 
 Printed from the Bradford Club Papers, by permission of the family of 
 Franklin Hough, who compiled the same with introduction in 1859. 
 
 LETTER FROM MAJOR JOHN PYNCHON TO CPATAIN SYLVESTER 
 
 SALISBURY. 
 
 [New York Collonial MSS., XXIV] 
 
 [Addressed : " These ffor his Honored ffried Capt Salisbury : 
 Commander in Chiefe at ffort Albany. Hast. Post hast, 
 for his Maties Special Service."] 
 
 Springfield October 5th 1677 
 
 Capt Salisbury. 
 
 Worthy Sr Yastarday Morniiig I Reed yor kind lines by 
 Benja Waite, whereby I vnderstand yor sympathy with vs in or 
 sad disaster by ye Indians ; & yor readiness in making Inquiry 
 & greate forwardness to do what Possible lys in yor for vs wch I 
 haue abundant cause to acknouledge & doe most thankfully ac- 
 cept frm yor hands, & as to yor opinion of the Maquas being 
 free & assureing me of their Innocency, I doe fully concur wth 
 you having sattisfaction frm what you wrot & from Ben Waites 
 Relation. But to put it out of all doubt, God in his P'vidence 
 hath sent in one of 8 captivated men, Benoni Stebbings by 
 name, wch is Ye occasion of these lines to yrselfe by Post, to 
 give you an accot thereoff & desire you to put ye Maquas vpon 
 psueing their & our Enymys there being greate likelyhood of ye 
 Maquas overtaking ym. 
 
 Benoni Stebbings came in to Hadly last night in ye night, 
 whose relation was sent to me wch being but an houre since I 
 had it, I psently resolved vpon sending Post to you. Take his 
 relation as followeth. The company of Indians was twenty only 
 aboutsixe or 7 squas made 26 in all. They were this country 
 Indians belonging to Nalwotogg all of ym but one a Narrigan- 
 set. They came froe Canada 3 Months agoe, & had bin Hunt- 
 
84 
 
 ing & were doubtfull whether to fall ou Northampton or Hat- 
 field, at last resolved on Hatfield & caryed away from Hatfield 
 17 psons & 3 from Deerfield, besides ys man that is come in, so 
 yt they haue 'ZO captives wth ym 3 of ym being men & all well 
 as he says when they took ym at Deerfield after the Noise & 
 "Whoops were over at Deerefield, their first Inquiry was whether 
 there were any Maqvas there abouts & vpon Information yt some 
 had been there, & were supposed not to be farr off, they were all 
 liusht. & startled & greately afraid & goeing silently away forth 
 wth, they tooke vp their Lodging at Deerefield River mouth & 
 next day crossed ye greate River vizt Conecticot to ye east side 
 of it, the next day crossed ye River againe, afterwards they 
 Passed ye River many tymes having cannoes wherein they car- 
 ryed ye women & children being about 2 days Journey above 
 Squakheag [Northfield] they sent a company of ym about halfe 
 of ym to Nashaway, to call of some Indians yt haue bin there 
 all this tyme of ye war & took Benoni Stebbings along wth ym 
 thither. [Alluding to the visit made to Wanalancet of Naam- 
 keke, who removed on the same day that Hatfield was attacked] 
 Coming to Nashaway potids, there were 3 Indian men & about 
 halfe a score of squaws wth there children these they went too 
 to take along wth ym having travelled from ye company they 
 left 2 days to Squakheag & then from Squakheag somewhat 
 more than thirty miles to ym Indians neere Nashaway who 
 Pluckt up their stakes having plenty of fish especially eeles, & 
 many dryed huckleberrys but no corne : This Benoni being 
 gent with 2 women to carry Huccle berrys Ran away from them, 
 & was psently psued by some men & at one tyme was but a 
 swamp betweent ym but night comeing on he escaped from his 
 psuers: He says yt one of ye Indians yt they had from about 
 Nashaway Ponds, semes to be a counsellor & wth him they con- 
 sulted much & spake of sending to ye English, but at last re- 
 solved for Canada, yet talkt of making a forte a greate way vp 
 the River & abiding there this winter, talked also of carying the 
 cai)tives to ye French & selling ym to ye French which he con- 
 cludes they resolved on, but make but slow Passage, having so 
 many women and children : He concluded it would be. It may 
 be, 20 days er they get to ye Lake hunting by ye way. It was 
 Tuesday morning last that he escaped from ye pty wch caryed 
 him with them nere Nashaway, & they had above 30 miles to 
 
85 
 
 goe back to Squaklieag, and then neere 2 d. Jonrney more to ye 
 rest above Squakheag: Ye way be says vp this River is vniDas- 
 sable for English men & their goeing is by Barken cannoes much 
 of ye way & then to ye best side of ye River men foote it leaving 
 ye worst way: The nnpassableness of ye way renders it vnpos- 
 sible for us to psue or doe any good: But ye conveying speedy 
 word to ye Maquas gives not only a Possibility of their overtak- 
 ing ym ym wch Deare Sr is ye end of these lines to you: To 
 request you [if none of ye Maqua Sachems be at Albany] to 
 send at our chnage to ye Chiefe of ye Maqvas & give ym an 
 occot of matters, & desire their speedy psueing these Bloody 
 Villians & enamys of ym & forthwith & without any delay, by 
 which means I hope this Barbarous Crew [who are enemys to 
 Religion Civility &all humanity & haue so deeply Imbrued their 
 hands in most Innocent Blood] may be met with in their re- 
 turne, before they come to ye Lake or at ye Lake & so our cap- 
 tives Recovered for wch we shall give ye Maques suitable re- 
 wards. Good Sr put forward ye Maques to surprise & cut of 
 these villaines. Let ym know yt it will be a greate demonstra- 
 of their fidelity & friendship to vs & it is a very Lukey opportu- 
 nity for ym to kill & catch Indians whom they so much hunt 
 after. And this man yt is come home says they dread Maquas, 
 & all their feare was least some Maquas should psue ym they did 
 not expect or think yt English could & desired to get out of ye 
 Maquas way at first goeing off from Deerefield & thinkeing they 
 were got high enough vp from them a little ye more se- 
 cure & at rest; So yt now I beleeve they are at ease & will make 
 so slow prgress having beside our women & children a psell of 
 their owne women & children to clogg ym yt they may safely 
 be taken. And the lighting upon & destroying this company of 
 ye enemy [being it is said 17 men yt is come in ye remaining 
 strength of this river Indians] will be a breaking Blow to ym & 
 a greate meanes of our security. I pray sr doe what you can to 
 lugage ye Maquas to goe out forthwith to deale effectually in it 
 we desire to do our duty & waite for ye salvation of God. 
 
 Sr excuse my scribling I am in great hast to send away ye 
 Messenger to Westfield this Night: bee the speed in getting ye 
 Macques to goe out upon ye enymy before they get on ye Lake 
 is all in all: If they can but come vp with ym it will be easy to 
 take ym: for I tell you their strength as ye man relates, & how 
 
86 
 
 they are clogged with women & children. I doubt not of yor 
 helpfulness in this exigence wch will abundantly Ingage vs & 
 wth greate Readyness shall sattisfie what ye disburse: Wth my 
 endeared Love & Respects to you commending you to ye ptection 
 of ye Almighty God, I remaine Sr 
 
 Yor very loving ffriend & servant 
 
 JOHN PYNCHON. 
 
 Ben Waite is gon home before this Intelligence cam to me. 
 He tallct of goeing to Canada before & I suppose will rather be 
 forward to it now then backward. Possible he may be at Al- 
 bany about a fortnight hence in referance to a going to ye 
 French when If I be not gon to Boston [wch I have some 
 thoughts to doe next weekej I shall have some oprortunity 
 againe to write to vou. Vale. 
 
 J. P. 
 
 NARRATIVE OF BENONI STEBBINS. 
 
 [New York Colonial MSS. XXV] 
 
 Benonie Stebbins which was taken captive by the Indians at 
 Dearfield 13 miles from Hatfield related as followeth 
 
 That the Indians that took him weare al Norwooluck Indians 
 saue only one which was a Naraganset. They were 26 in al 18 
 of them fighting men the rest 2 squas old men & boys. They 
 told him that they had lined at the French & intended to return 
 there again to sel the captiues to them wch had Incouradged 
 them that they should haue eight pound peece for them and the 
 french Indians did intend to come wth them the next time 
 either in the spring or in winter if they had sucses this time. 
 
 The manner of his escape was thus when they came 2 days 
 journey aboue Squakheag they sent part of their company to 
 Wotchuset hills to fetch away 2 smal compeny of Indians that 
 had lined there al this war time with whom they sent this cap- 
 tiue be being sent with 2 squas and a mare to fetch some hucle- 
 beries a little way from the company when he got vpon the mare 
 and rid till he tired the mare & then run on foot & so escaped to 
 Hadly, being 2 days & ^ wthout victuals. 
 
 This relation was taken from his mouth at Northampton 6th 
 Instant. P M Samll Eells. 
 
87 
 
 LETTER FROM GOVERNOR FRONTENAC OF CANADA TO GOVERNOR 
 ANDROS OF NEW YORK- 
 
 [New York Col-onial MSS. XXVI] 
 
 [Endorsed " A Copie of a Letter dated No. 18th 1677 from 
 the Governor of Canada, to the Governor of New York, A 
 Coj^ie of another Jan 8 following. "] 
 
 From Quebec, the 18th day of 9br 1677. 
 
 Sr Sending now to Boston to bee informed concerning sonqe 
 Frenchmen, who we heare have been caryed Prisoners there, I 
 was willing to take advantage of this occasion, to give you new 
 assurances of my service, & of the good correspondence, which 
 I desire to keepe with you. 
 
 If in that I follow the orders of the king my master, I also at 
 the same time, satisfy my particular Inclinacon to let you know 
 with how much truth & passion I am 
 
 Yor thrice humble servont 
 
 FRONTENAC. 
 Superscription as below. 
 
 From Quebec the 8th of Jan 1678. 
 Sr The death of Mr Basire one of the principall negotiators 
 of this place, obliging mee to give speedy notice thereof to his 
 partners in France, I thought the way of the Manhatans or Bos- 
 ton to bee the speediest, & the good correspondence that you 
 have allwayes manifested a desire to entertaine betweene us 
 makes me hope that you will direct those I shall send, the best 
 way to have' my letters carryed into old England to be sent over 
 from thence by the first vessells. I desire then sr that favor of 
 you & that you will beleeue that if in Returne, I were capable 
 of rendring you service in these jmrts, I would do it with as 
 much joy as I am with passion, 
 
 Sr Your servant, thrice humble 
 
 FRONTENAC. 
 
 To Monsr the General Major Andros, 
 Goveno of New York at Manrth. 
 
88 
 
 EXTRACT FROM THE COUNCIL MINUTES. 
 
 [Council Minutes, iii, Part 2, p. 176.] 
 
 At a Councell No. 10th 1677. 
 
 Lettrs from Albany by Claes Luck who brought down two 
 Englishmen that were sent from the Gov. of Boston to Albany 
 & Canada. 
 
 Benjamin Waite owne of the two men sente downe being 
 called in and examined what there business was at Albany saith 
 that they were sent by their Mastrs towards Canada and had di- 
 rections to goe to Albany and brought a lettr from the Governor 
 of Boston to Capt. Salisbury, they went that way to avoyd their 
 enemies. Being demanded of the discourse between them and 
 some at Schanectade they saying that place did belong to Bos- 
 ton, the wch he denyes pretending it some mistake, they not 
 understanding one anothers Language. 
 
 Being askt why they went away without comming againe 
 when Capt. Salisbury ordered them to come, sd they were not 
 willing to be hindred but to make the best of their journey. 
 
 Stephen genning the other being askt why they went away 
 without speaking again to Capt Salisbury as he bad them. He 
 saith they were sent by the Governor of Boston towards Canada 
 & had orders to come to Albany, and that Capt. Salisbury gave 
 them no encouragement whereupon being desirous to follow 
 their directions, hopeing to finde their wives & children they 
 went on their Journey. Denyes saying Schanectade did belong 
 to Boston &c but says they not understanding on another well 
 Might Mistake. 
 
 The matter being taken into consideracon 
 
 Resolved that they be permitted to proceed on their voyage 
 wch they shall think proper, for wch order to bee sent to the 
 Commander at Albany. 
 
 to? 
 
89 
 
 LETTER FROM TIMOTHY COOPER TO MAJOR JOHN PYNCHON. 
 
 [New York Colonial MMS. XXVII.] 
 
 [Endorsed: " Copie of a letter from Mr Time Cooper to Major 
 Pinchon sent doune by Capt Salisbury: Capt Salisbury 
 writt so by order of Councell Mar 18 1677."] 
 
 Most Worthy Major 
 
 Sr Having now this occasion by two french from Canady 
 who arryved here the 14th Instant beeiug about 12 dayes since 
 they came from Canaday & now bound for Boston, I were will- 
 ing to imbrace the occation knowing it my duty not to omitt 
 any opportunity whereby I may in some small measur Maniefest 
 the great desyer I allwayes have to serve yor worshipp to the ut- 
 most of my Capacity: having no other way at present to ex- 
 presse the same than the presenting you wth these few lynes 
 whereby to Informe you wee have by these ffrench intelligence 
 of Benjamin Wait and the oyrs Save arryvell att Canada: and 
 also thar wyves & children restored unto ym, the rest yt were 
 living are redeemed from under the Indians, ther is three of the 
 Companie dead that is 2 children & the old man the oyr are all 
 in good health: Benj. Waitt and the oyr, have vndergon much 
 Treble & hard ship great pairt of which I will not say, it was 
 only to satisfie some base minded persons. Though it hath now 
 pleased God to mak up all the I'robles they have met wth by re- 
 storing to them thar wyves & children. 
 
 I pray God that they May find more favor and Civell respect 
 from the peopell they are now among, then they have in some 
 oyr plac, of which I conclud you have already hard, and therfor 
 at present I shall not relait to you the cercumstance and Maner 
 of ther vsage. But it was such as I think it fare below Chris- 
 tianity, or common Civility. Sr I begg your pardon In what I 
 omitt, in reference to oyr Concernes, not having tym to In large, 
 at present ; But assure you, I am not unmyndfull of my Trust, 
 but shall indevor wth Gods assistance to discharge the same, to 
 the good satisfaction of all. So with my humble service to 
 yorself & good Lady, I take Leave to style my self Sr 
 Yor Most humble & obedient Servt 
 
 Timo: Cooper. 
 
90 
 
 PASSPORT OF MONSIEUR LUSIGNT. 
 
 [New York Colonial MSS., XXVII. ] 
 
 [Endorsed: " Copie of the Governor of Canada's Passeport for 
 Monsr Lusigny who conveyed the English prisoners taken 
 by the Indians at Iladley, Hattfield &c. April 30th 1678."] 
 
 Translation. 
 
 "The Count de Frontenac, Governor and Lieutenant General 
 for Ills IMajesty in Canada, Acadia, Newfoundland and other 
 territories of New France. 
 
 We have given leave and passport to Sieur de Lusigny, one of 
 the gentlemen of our household, to whom we have entrusted 
 the command of an escort of Englisii prisoners taken by the 
 Sacoqnis, and wliom we send back, to go to Albany and Boston 
 to negotiate with his Honor the Governor the business with 
 whicli we have charged him. We command all those within 
 our jurisdiction, and request all others, to allow the said Sieur 
 de Lusigny with the escort and the English whom they conduct 
 to pass without hindrance and to render them every aid and 
 assistance. 
 
 In witness whereof we have signed this passport sealed it with 
 our arms and countersigned it by one of our secretaries at 
 Quebec this thirtieth day of April, 1678. 
 
 FRONTENAC. 
 By M. Barrois." 
 
 MILITARY STRENGTH OF CANADA IN 1678. 
 
 [New York Colonial MSS., XXVIL] 
 
 [Endorsed: "Arelaconof the forces at Canada from one of 
 the French men in May, 1678."] 
 
 Being in a discourse with Monsr de la Chambre, [one of 
 Count de Frontenac's Guards] did relate that they had 25 men 
 Officers & all in the Garrison of Quebec & 33 Guns in the ffort, 
 & in the Battery that is below the ffort, whereof 4 of the big- 
 gest [of 91b bullit] were not mounted ; At troy Rivers, [Three 
 
91 
 
 Rivers] some very few Giiuns & 6 men with a Serjeant, At Mont 
 Royall [Montreal] likewise a small fort with 8 men, botliTownes 
 having Govrs placed by Frontenac. 
 
 There are 6 or 8 Capts belonging to the place, who have the 
 Comand upon occasion of the Companyes belonging to the Col- 
 onye wch are roused in time or warre & are to bee in redinesse. 
 The Fort at Quebec is not now strong the opening the Bastions 
 being bloune up wth powder last St. Johns day, with the losse 
 of 9 men, & is not yet built up. He sayes they have not a 
 strong fort in Canada, but the Fort Cadarachque [Cataraqui, 
 now Kingston] is strong. 
 
 The Go: Frontenac liath some 8 or 10 Gentl who doe keepe 
 him Compa, and doe eate at his Table daily, he hath 16 men to 
 bee Guard & all other officers in his liouse, as our Earles have in 
 Engld this is what I have learnt at present having not fully 
 discoursed with him, the rest you shall have the next. 
 
 LETTEB FROM CAPT. SALISBURY TO CAPT. BROCKHOLLS. 
 
 [New York Colonial MSS., XXVII. ] 
 
 Sr Upon the 23th of this Instant came to this Place Benja- 
 min Wayt & Stephen Gennings with 19 of those people yt were 
 taken by ye Indians at Hadfeilde & Hadly & have for there con- 
 voy 11 Ifrench men 3 of them belouge to ye Gove of Cannada 
 garde & those 3 with other 2 goeth with those people to Boston. 
 The other 6 staye heere untill ye 5 doeth come backe hauiug 
 passes & letrs of credence, and to detaine them I could not see 
 any strength to doe it, therefore I desire you'l spedy answer by 
 this expresse, wheather I shall detaine them and sende them 
 down at there Returne for I would be punctiull in my Dewty, 
 and not willing to com mitt any Errors, soe yor spedy answer of 
 my laste as well as of this will be a very greate help to let me see 
 how I shall Govern Myselfe. 
 
 I haue descoursed with Benja Wayte Concerning there liue- 
 ing in Canada & how strong in men & in there ffortifycations & 
 as to their lieuing its very meaine for the Commonallity are 
 very much oppresed with greate taxes, but the Gour and ye reste 
 of the greate ones. Hues hy after the French manner and so 
 there strength of men thay cane make 1000 or 2 but thay Hue 
 
92 
 
 in littell villages haueing littell plantations here and there som 
 30 & 30 miles from villadge to villadge & in som vil there is 20 
 & in some 30 houses. They iiue as Indians and gett there 
 lining by hunteing and there fortifications ar not very stronge. 
 I woLilde know wheather I shall beare there Expences while 
 there aboad is hoer & I pray you let the bearers be furnished 
 with prouitions at ther Returne haueing not fEurther to inlarge 
 but remaine your very humble servt 
 
 SILVES' SALISBURY. 
 ffort Albany ye 23th May 1678. 
 
 LETTER FROM CAPT. BROCKHOLLS TO CAPT. SALISBURY. 
 
 [New York Colonial MSS., XXVIL] 
 
 Capt Salisbury. 
 
 Sr I reed yours yesterday in the Evening of the 23th with 
 the enclosed copies of the pusseports & letter from the Governor 
 of Canada, wherein you intimate the coming of 11 French men 
 to Albany to convey Benjamin Wait & Stephen Gennings with 
 the people that were taken prisoners by the Indyans the last fall 
 at Hatfield & Iladley [who without doubt are joyful to returne 
 back to their habitacons] withall that 5 of the 11 French were 
 gone forward to Boston with tliose people, the other 6 remain- 
 ing behind with you untill the returne of their Comerades con- 
 cerning ye carriage to whom you desire to bee advised I have 
 communicated what you writ & . . . Councell who are of 
 opinion that [there was] no need to have conveyed those [men 
 farther] than Albany, from whence you might [have sent] per- 
 sons with them to their homes. 
 
 The Comunicacon of the French with the Indyans as they 
 passe being to bee suspected, at that time of so great a likely- 
 hood of warrs with them and it would haue beene well to have 
 knowne what buisnesse they had to negotiate with the Go: of 
 Boston, but since they are past it cannot bee helpt & it is honied 
 they will doe no greate harme & there being as yet no declaracon 
 of warre knowne to [have been made and their] coming also 
 upon so charitable an Acct as the Redemption & bringing b.ick 
 of poore distrested captives of our nation I know not well upon 
 wt pretence they could bee stopt, so that it is therefore the 
 
93 
 
 opinion of the counsel], that when the other 5 shall be returned 
 back you use them with all civility & permitt them quietly to 
 returne back to Canada about their occasions. As for their Ex- 
 pences at Albany it is likewise thought fitt that you defray them 
 for the present & that they may be cleared from it onely that 
 you take [account of the expense] & send it hither where care 
 will bee taken [to send] it to the Go: of Boston, who ought to 
 allow [the amount] it being for people of his Governmt. There 
 was an answer went yesterday to the Commissioners of Alb. be- 
 fore the receit of this concerning the buisnesse of Will Teller 
 [charged with accidental homicide of an Indian and released 
 May 20] & Will Loveredge with what else was written about by 
 them. 
 
 Yor Messenger being dispatcht returnes this afternoone Hav- 
 ing not farther I remaine Sr. yor very humble servt. 
 
 A. B. 
 K Y. Sunday, May 26, 1678. 
 
 LETTER FROM COUNT FRONTENAC TO CAPT. BROCKHOLLS WITH- 
 OUT DATE ; RECEIVED MAT 31, 1678. 
 
 [New York Colonial MSS., XXVII. ] 
 
 Sr The letter you did mee the honor to write mee of the 
 28th of February last, is so civill & the offers you make mee are 
 so obliging, that I am glad the sending back of the English 
 taken prisoners by the Indyans [who I caused to be conducted 
 to Orange] hath furnisht me with an opportunity to returne you 
 my thanks sooner than I expected. 
 
 I understood by the persons I sent to Boston as also by the 
 Letters from Go Leverett & the councell, that the Frenchmen 
 sent to enquire after were releast & by that from Capt Salisbury 
 that Go: Andros arrived well at London in 5 weekes timee. I 
 wish him a returne as happy & that I may find means to shew 
 both to him & you the desire I always haue to hold a good cor- 
 respondence in testifying both to the one & the other how much 
 I am Sr Yor thrice humble servt 
 
 FRONTENAC. 
 
XJSTIDEX. 
 
 PAGE. 
 
 Allis, W. H. Address of 54 
 
 Antiquities. Collection of 58 
 
 Atherton, Hope. Letter op 73 
 
 Appendix, 73 
 
 Bardwell Genealogy 66 
 
 Bartlett, George B. Poem, 48 
 
 Bradford Club Papers. Extracts from 83 
 
 Dickinson Genealogy, 63 
 
 Graves, Thaddeus. Address of Welcome, 5 
 
 Graves Genealogy, 69 
 
 Huntington, Bishop F. D. Extracts of Address, ... 45 
 
 Hubbard, Silas G. Historical Address, 31 
 
 HousELOTs. Location of 94 
 
 Miller, Margaret. Poem, 37 
 
 Partridge, Joseph L. Address of 50 
 
 Partridge, Samuel D. Letter op 40 
 
 Sheldon, Hon. George. Address of 10 
 
 Waite, Benjamin. Letter of 34 
 
 Woods, Rev. R. M. Address of 53 
 
 Waite Genealogy, 60 
 
 Wells, Jonathan. Narrative of 76 
 
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