USA > New Hampshire > Gathered sketches from the early history of New Hampshire and Vermont, containing vivid and interesting account of a great variety of the adventures of our forefathers, and of other incidents of olden times > Part 4
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As soon as the main body had started, Peabody cautiously crept from his hiding-place to the water, and sliding in fect foremost, moved along on his back, his face just above the surface, to the canoe which contained the rifles of the guard. The priming was quickly removed, and their powder horns emptied. He then went to the canoe in which the captives were placed, and gave them notice of the intended rescue, at the same time warning them
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PEABODY'S LEAP.
not to show themselves above the gunwale till they were in safety. He next with his Indian knife sepa- rated the thong which held the canoe to the shore, intending to swim off with it till he had got far enough to avoid observation, then get in and paddle for the nearest place where a landing could be effected. All this was the work of a moment, and he was slowly moving off from the shore, expecting an attack from this side ; but unfortunately his rifle had been left behind, and he resolved not to part with " Old Plumper," as he called it, without at least one effort to recover it. He immediately gave the captives notice of his intention, and directed them to paddle slowly and silently out, and in going past the headland to approach as near as possible, and there await his coming. The guard by this time had secreted themselves, and one of the num- ber had chosen the same place which Peabody him- self had previously occupied, near which he had left his old friend. He had almost got to the spot, when the Indian discovered the rifle, and grasping it, sprang upon his feet and gave the alarm to his
companions. Quick as thought, Peabody was upon him, seized the rifle, and wrenched it from him with such violence as to throw him prostrate upon the ground. The rest of the Indians were alarmed, and sounding the war whoop, rushed upon him.
It was a standard maxim with Peabody, that "a good soldier never runs till he is obliged to ; " and he now found that he should be under the necessity of suiting his practice to his theory. There was
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PEABODY'S LEAP.
no time for deliberation ; he instantly knocked down the foremost with the butt of his rifle, and bounded away through the thicket like a startled deer. The three Indians made for the canoe in which the rifles were deposited, already made harmless by the pre- caution of Peabody. This gave him a good advan- tage, which was not altogether unnecessary, as he was much encumbered with his wet clothes ; and be- fore he reached the goal he could hear them snap- ping the dry twigs behind him. The main body had likewise got the alarm, and were but a short distance from him when he reached the head land. Those who were nearest he did not fear, unless they came to close action, and he resolved to send one more to his long home, before he leaped from the precipice.
" It's a burning shame to wet so much powder," exclaimed he ; "I'll have one more pop at them tarnal redskins." Peabody's position was quickly arranged to put his threat into execution. His rifle was presented, his eye glanced along its barrel, and the first one that showed his head received its deadly contents. In an instant Peabody was in the water, making for the canoc. The whole party by this time had come up, and commenced a brisk fire upon the fugitives. Peabody stood erect in the canoe, shouting in the voice of a Stentor, " You'd better take care ; ye'll spile the skiff. Old Plumper's safe, and you'll feel him yet, I tell ye ! "
They were quickly lost in darkness, and taking a
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small circuit, effected a landing in safety. Many an Indian's life verified his last threat, and Pea- body lived to a good old age, having often related to his friends and neighbors the adventure which gave to this place the name of "PEABODY's LEAP." 6
KILBURN'S DEFENCE.
WALPOLE, N. H.
1755.
THE first civilized inhabitant of the present town of Walpole, N. H., was John Kilburn, who settled there in 1749. The large and fertile meadows at the mouth of Cold River, in that township, slightly covered with tall butternut and ancient elm trees, presented an inviting prospect to new colonists, and an easy harvest to the hand of cultivation. Just above them, along the east bank of the Connecticut, was the defile, bounded by steep mountains, which formed the Indian highway to and from Charles- town, the next township. There, too, was the head of shad navigation, the great fishing ground of the savages from time immemorial. Next below this narrow pass by the river, and nearer the meadows, is the site of an ancient Indian village, since occu- pied by a tavern. Next on the south, and bounding the meadows northerly, was Cold River, a small branch of the main stream, overshadowed with tall maples and elms. The meadows themselves were about half a mile in extent ; the Connecticut was on the western side, and a semicircle of woods on
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KILBURN'S DEFENCE.
the east, with a central round eminence forty feet · high, from which issues at this day a medicinal spring. It was here the adventurous and hardy Kilburn built himself a log hut, and here he inhabited the solitude of the forest for two years, without any intercourse with friend or foe.
During this time his life was one continued scene of danger and hardship. He sought opportunities to cultivate the friendship of the Indians, who roamed and prowled in the woods around him ; but in this attempt he was wholly unsuccessful. They avoided him studiously in the daytime, and in the night he soon found that they approached his hum- ble habitation only for the purpose of dealing him the deadly blow. He was finally obliged, in conse- quence of this state of things, to adopt the plan of " camping out " at different places in the woods each night, with nothing but the cold earth for his bed, a bear skin for his covering, and a cartridge box for his pillow. In this manner he continued to elude the scalping knife of his lurking enemies, though they not unfrequently visited and plundered his hut in his absence.
In 1751 Colonel Benjamin Bellows obtained the charter of Walpole, and began a small settlement on a spot occupied to this day by the buildings of a gen- tleman of the same name, above a mile south from the establishment of Kilburn. There was at this time a fort also in the neighboring township of Number Four, now called Charlestown. These ad- ditions to the power of the whites in this quarter
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had an essential influence upon the respect and the fear felt for them by the Indians ; nor was it long before a company of them descended the river in their canoes, landed over the falls, and invited their old acquaintance, Kilburn, to trade with them. He accepted the invitation without scruple or hesitancy, visited their encampment, bought furs of them, made them presents of flints, flour, and fish hooks. From this time they continued to hunt, fish, and lodge oc- casionally in the neighborhood. The report of the guns with which the whites had furnished them long ere this, and the smoke of their low wigwams among the trees, became mingled with the familiar occur- rences of daily life.
The affairs of the settlers continued to prosper until 1753, when this alarming event occurred to disturb their security. Two men, by the name of Twitchell and Flint, who had gone back to the hills, about a mile east of the settlement, to procure some ash timber for oars, were fired upon and killed by the Indians. One of them was scalped. The other they barbarously cut open, took out his heart, yet warm, cut it in pieces, laid it upon his breast, and thus left him to be found by his friends. This mas- sacre was among the first appearances of a rupture of the negotiations for peace pending between Eng- land and France, and was the commencement of a new and long series of Indian ravages. It was, moreover, the first Christian blood that was spilt in · Walpole, and the impression it produced on the minds of the settlers was proportionately deep and
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lasting. The bodies of the murdered men were buried near where they were found, in a spot still indicated by a ridge of land, on the west side of the road, about two miles north of Walpole village. It is believed by the friends of Twitchell - at least by some of the number - that his guardian spirit continued, as long as his savage murderers lived, to hover over them by night and by day, and to warn them of the wiles of the Indians. Even a rock in Connecticut River, where he used to fish with never- failing success, was a long time held in religious veneration ; and few, it is rumored, of all those who to this day go to angle from "Twitchell Rock," re- turn without taking from the stream a most gener- ous fry.
In the spring of 1755, an Indian by the name of Philip, who had just learned English enough to be understood, visited Kilburn's log house, under the pretence of being on a hunting excursion and in want of provisions. He was treated with kindness, and furnished liberally with flints, meal, and various other articles which he asked for. Soon after his departure it was ascertained that the same Indian had visited all the settlements on the Connecticut River, with the same plausible story. The conclu- sion was with Kilburn and his fellow-settlers that Philip was a scout employed by the enemy. This suspicion was soon after confirmed by intelligence received at all the forts on the frontiers, through a friendly Indian, from Governor Shirley at Albany. He stated that four or five hundred of the savages 6 *
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KILBURN'S DEFENCE.
were collected in Canada, whose object was to butcher the whole white population on Connecticut River.
The settlers - and those of Walpole among the number - were startled by these tidings ; but they were not disheartened. They valued their hard- earned harvest and their solitary homes in the wil- derness, humble as they were, too highly to leave them from the mere apprehensions of danger. They had been accustomed, too, to all the hardships of a rude life ; and long had they looked for the time to come, as it came now, when they must defend them- selves, or die in the cause.
Kilburn and his comrades now fortified their hab- itations round about by a palisade of stakes, with such preparations of the same nature as their means allowed. On these alone they depended for safety, the next garrison (a fort of forty men) being a mile distant from the settlement of Colonel Bellows. Measures thus prudently being taken, nothing re- mained but to wait for the onset of the enemy. Nor had they to wait long. On the 17th of August, 1755, Kilburn and his son, in his eighteenth year, and a man by the name of Peak, with his son, were returning from work about noon, when one of them suddenly discovered the red legs of Indians among the alders that skirted the meadows, as thick, in his own language, "as grasshoppers." They instantly fled to the house, fastened the door, and began to make preparations for an obstinate defence. In this they were assisted as well as encouraged by
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KILBURN'S DEFENCE.
Kilburn's wife, and his daughter Hitty, whose par- ticular charge, however, was to watch the move- ments of the enemy.
In fifteen minutes the latter were seen crawling upon the bank east of the house, and as they crossed the footpath one by one, one hundred and ninety- seven were counted. About the same number re- mained in ambush near the mouth of Cold River. The object of this party was to waylay Colonel Bel- lows and his men, whom they knew to be working at his mill about a mile east. Before a great while accordingly these people came along, each with a bag of meal on his back. Presently their dogs be- gan to growl, and to betray other symptoms of hav- ing discovered or suspected an enemy. All this Bellows understood perfectly well ; nor was he at a loss in forming his opinion as to the state of the case. He had no doubt the Indians were close at hand in ambush, and he took his measures accord- ingly. He ordered all his men, about thirty, to throw down their meal, and advance to the rising ground just above them, carefully crawl up the bank, spring upon their feet, give one shout, and instantly drop down among the tall fern, which in that place covered the ground.
The manœuvre succeeded ; for as soon as the shout was heard, the Indians all rose in a semicircle round the path Bellows was to pursue. This gave the party a fine chance for a fair shot, and they im- proved it promptly by a general discharge, which so disconcerted the plans of the Indians that they
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KILBURN'S DEFENCE.
darted away into the bushes without firing a gun. Bellows found, however, that their party was too numerous for his, and he ordered his men to file off to the south, and make for the fort. Not long after these Indians came out on the eminence east of Kil- burn's house. Here the " Old Devil" Philip, as he was now generally called, - being the same wily savage who had visited Kilburn's house the season previous, - came forward, securing himself behind a large tree, and called out loudly to those in the house to surrender. " Old John, young John," he cried, " I know you ; come out here ; we give good quarter." " Quarter !" shouted Kilburn from the house, with a tremendous voice, that thrilled through every Indian heart, "quarter, you black rascals ! be- gone, or we will quarter you !"
Thus disappointed in his application, Philip re- turned to the main body of his companions. After a few minutes' consultation, the Indian war whoop was raised, as if, in Kilburn's language, " all the devils had been let loose." Kilburn was nothing daunted by this performance, however, and he even managed to get the first fire, before the smoke of his enemies' guns obstructed his aim. He was confident that this discharge brought down an Indian, who, from his ex- traordinary size, and other circumstances, appeared to be Philip. A moment after the companions of the fallen savage, now mustered in full force, rushed forward to the work of destruction ; and probably not fewer than four hundred bullets were lodged in Kilburn's house at the first fire. The roof especially
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KILBURN'S DEFENCE.
was made a perfect "riddle sieve." This leaden shower was kept up for some time, with an incessant blaze and clamor, while detachments of the enemy were amusing themselves with butchering the stray cattle, and destroying the hay and grain, in the sur- rounding meadow.
Kilburn and his men, meanwhile, were by no means idle. The powder was already poured out into hats, for the convenience of loading in a hurry, and every thing prepared for a spirited defence or a glorious death. They had several guns in the house, all of which were kept hot by incessant firing through the port-holes. As they had no ammunition to spare, each one took special aim, to have every bullet tell. The women assisted in loading the guns. When the stock of lead grew scanty, they had also the presence of mind to suspend blankets horizon- tally near the roof of the house, inside, to catch the enemy's balls. These they immediately run into new bullets, if necessary, which the men took upon them- selves to have returned to the savages with interest.
They made several attempts to burst open the doors of the house ; but the fire of the brave little garrison was too hot for them. Most of the time, therefore, they endeavored to keep behind stumps, logs, and trees, evidently showing by this manage- ment that they began to feel the force of the remark made to them by Kilburn, as we have seen, at the onset. An incessant firing, however, was kept up on their part until near sundown. Then they gradu- ally retreated ; and when the sun sank behind the
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KILBURN'S DEFENCE.
western hills, the sound of their guns and the cry of the war whoop died away in silence. How many of the enemy fell on this occasion never was ascer- tained. Of the little garrison, Peak only was wounded in the hip, by exposing himself too much before a port-hole ; and, for want of surgical aid, this proved fatal on the sixth day. The French and Indian war continued until 1763; but the village of Walpole was not afterwards molested in any instance by the enemy.
Kilburn was as upright and worthy as he was brave, and lived to see that town populous and flourishing, and his fourth generation upon the stage. A plain, unpolished stone points out the spot in the burying ground of the village where sleep his mortal remains, under this inscription : -
In memory of John Kilburn, who departed this life for a better, April 8th, 1789, in the 85th year of his age. He was the first settler of this town, in 1749.
His son, "young John," revisited this scene of his youthful exploits for the last time in 1814. He died in 1822, among his children at Shrewsbury, Vermont.
INDIAN BRIDGE.
FROM THE HISTORICAL COLLECTIONS OF NEW HAMPSHIRE.
1753.
IN the fall of the year 1753, Sabatis and Plausa- wa, two Indians, were at the place where Deacon Sawyer now lives, in Canterbury. There Joshua Noyes and Thomas Thorla, from Newbury, who were looking after cattle which had been turned into the woods the spring before, met them. Plausawa had been several times at Newbury, and knew Noyes and Thorla, and they knew him. The Indians ap- peared not much pleased at seeing them, and began to put their baggage into their canoe, and to pre- pare to go away. Sabatis appeared sullen, and dis- posed to do mischief, but was kept from it by Plau- sawa. Noyes and Thorla proposed to buy their furs. At first they refused to sell, saying they would not trade with the English, but would go to Canada. Afterwards they offered to sell furs for rum. Those men had brought rum on purpose to trade with the Indians ; but seeing their temper, especially that of Sabatis, they refused to let them have any, and con- cluded to go away and leave them. As they were departing, Plausawa in a friendly manner advised
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INDIAN BRIDGE.
them to go home, and to avoid meeting with the In- dians, lest they should be hurt. When they had gone a little distance from the Indians, Sabatis called them, and said, "No more you English come here ; me heart bad -me kill you." Thorla replied, "No kill ; English and Indians now all brothers." They soon met Peter Bowen going towards the Indians, told him in what temper the Indians were, and ad- vised him not to go to them, and by no means to let them have a drop of rum. He replied that he was not afraid of them; that he was acquainted with Indians, and knew how to deal with them. The Indians had got into their canoe, and were going up the river. Bowen called them, and asked them to go to his house and stay that night, and told them he would give them some rum. It was then near night. They went with Bowen to his house, which was in Contoocook, at some distance below where they then were. He treated them freely with rum, which made them at first very well pleased ; but as they became more intoxicated, they began to be troublesome. Bowen, who had every quality of an Indian, had lived much with them, and knew per- fectly well how they would conduct, fearing they might do mischief, took the precaution to make his wife engage their attention, while he drew the charges from their guns, which were left behind the door in the entry. After this was done, the night was spent in a drunken Indian frolic, for which Bowen had as good a relish as his guests. The next morning they asked Bowen to go with his horse and
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INDIAN BRIDGE.
carry their baggage to the place where their canoe was left the evening before. He went, and carried their packs on his horse. As they went, Sabatis pro- posed to run a race with the horse. Bowen, suspect- ing mischief was intended, declined the race, but finally consented to run. He, however, took care to let the Indian outrun the horse. Sabatis laughed heartily at Bowen, because the horse could run no faster. They then proceeded, apparently in good humor. After a while, Sabatis said to Bowen, "Bowen walk woods," meaning, " Go with me as a prisoner." Bowen said, "No walk woods ; all one brothers." They went on together until they were near the canoe, when Sabatis proposed a second race, and that the horse should be unloaded of the baggage, and should start a little before him. Bowen refused to start so, but consented to start together. They ran, and as soon as the horse had got a little before the Indian, Bowen heard a gun snap. Looking round, he saw the smoke of powder, ' and the gun aimed at him ; he turned and struck his tomahawk in the Indian's head. He went back to meet Plausawa, who, seeing the fate of Sabatis, took aim with his gun at Bowen ; the gun flashed. Plausawa fell on his knees, and begged for his life. He pleaded his innocence and former friendship for the English ; but all in vain. Bowen knew there would be no safety for him while the companion and friend of Sabatis was living. To secure himself, he buried the same tomahawk in the skull of Plausawa. This was done in the road on the bank of Merrimac
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INDIAN BRIDGE.
River, near the northerly line of Contoocook, now Boscawen. Bowen hid the dead bodies under a small bridge in Salisbury. The next spring the bodies were discovered and buried .* That bridge has ever since, to this day, been called INDIAN BRIDGE.
* It is due to history, as well as to the credit of a race already too much maligned, to state that the killing of Plausawa and Sabatis was considered a murder, both by the St. Francis tribe of Indians, to which they belonged, and by the authorities of New Hampshire, who seized upon Bowen and one other, and imprisoned them in the Portsmouth jail, whence, however, they were liberated by an armed mob, the peo- ple generally considering the killing of an Indian a meritorious act. Bowen was aware that the half-intoxicated Indians were in a state of irritation against the whites; nevertheless he invited them to his house, and gave them every opportunity to vent their feelings. He had them completely in his power, though they did not know it. It would seem also that gratitude as well as mercy should have led him to spare their lives. A reference to the "Captivity of Mrs. M'Coy " will show that Plausawa had before this saved the life of one of the set- tlers, when in a very critical situation.
THE CAPTIVITY AND SUFFERINGS OF MRS. JEMIMA HOWE,
TAKEN PRISONER BY THE INDIANS AT BRIDGMAN'S FORT, IN THE PRESENT TOWN OF VERNON, VT. COMMUNICATED TO DR. BEL- KNAP BY THE REV. BUNKER GAY.
1755.
As Messrs. Caleb Howe, Hilkiah Grout, and Ben- jamin Gaffield, who had been hoeing corn in the meadow, west of the river, were returning home a little before sunset, to a place called Bridgman's Fort, they were fired upon by twelve Indians, who had ambushed their path. Howe was on horseback, with two young lads, his children, behind him. A ball, which broke his thigh, brought him to the ground. His horse ran a few rods, and fell like- wise, and both the lads were taken. The Indians, in their savage manner, coming up to Howe, pierced his body with a spear, tore off his scalp, stuck a hatchet in his head, and left him in this forlorn con- dition. He was found alive the morning after by a party of men from Fort Hinsdale ; and being asked by one of the party whether he knew him, he answered, " Yes, I know you all." These were his last words, though he did not expire until after his
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THE CAPTIVITY AND SUFFERINGS
friends had arrived with him at Fort Hinsdale. Grout was so fortunate as to escape unhurt ; but Gaffield, in attempting to wade through the river, at a certain place which was indeed fordable at that time, was unfortunately drowned. Flushed with the success they had met with here, the savages went directly to Bridgman's Fort. There was no man in it, and only three women and some children, viz., Mrs. Jemima Howe, Mrs. Submit Grout, and Mrs. Eunice Gaffield. Their husbands I need not mention again, and their feelings at this juncture I will not attempt to describe. They had heard the enemy's guns, but knew not what had happened to their friends. Extremely anxious for their safety, they stood longing to embrace them, until at length, concluding from the noise they heard without that some of them were come, they unbarred the gate in a hurry to receive them ; when, lo! to their inex- pressible disappointment and surprise, instead of their husbands, in rushed a number of hideous In- dians, to whom they and their tender offspring be- came an easy prey, and from whom they had nothing to expect but either an immediate death or a long and doleful captivity. The latter of these, by the favor of Providence, turned out to be the lot of these unhappy women, and their still more unhappy, because more helpless, children. Mrs. Gaffield had but one, Mrs. Grout had three, and Mrs. Howe seven. The eldest of Mrs. Howe's was eleven years old, and the youngest but six months. The two eldest were daughters which she had by her
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OF MRS. JEMIMA HOWE.
first husband, Mr. William Phipps, who was also slain by the Indians. It was from the mouth of this woman that I lately received the foregoing ac- count. She also gave me, I doubt not, a true, though, to be sure, a very brief and imperfect history of her captivity, which I here insert for your perusal. It may perhaps afford you some amusement, and can do no harm, if, after it has undergone your critical inspection, you should not think it (or an abbrevia- tion of it) worthy to be preserved among the records you are about to publish.
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