By John H. Dolbeer
"INCURSIONS OF THE INDIANS.In the early days of the town
the inhabitants were kept in a state of almost continual alarm by the incursions
of the Indians. For a considerable time after this settlement was commenced
only the men ventured to remain in the place during the summer season,
and then they must keep their arms by them while they labored on their
lands. During the winter there was much less danger from the Indians. Even
long after the men had removed their families into the place, so feeble
was their defense against the attacks of their savage neighbors, that,
whenever any immediate danger was apprehended, they either sent their families
away or fled withthem to the garrison at Nottingham. At length a house
was erected by Captain Andrew McClary within the limits of the town, and
near the present residence of Mr. Joseph Lawrence, which was made proof
against the assaults of the Indians, being surrounded by a high, wooden
wall, entered by a heavy, well-secured gate. Thither the inhabitants fled
at night, whenever danger was apprehended.
"CAPTIVITY OF MRS. MCCOY.The Indians were first attracted
to the new settlements in the town by discovering McCoy at Suncook (now
Pembroke). This as nearly as can be ascertained, was in the year 1747.
Reports were spread of the depredations of the Indians in various places,
and McCoy had heard that they had been seen lurking about the woods at
Penacook, (now Concord). He went as far as Pembroke: ascertained that they
were in the vicinity; was somewhere discovered by them and followed home.
They told his wife, whom they afterwards made prisoner, that they looked
through cracks around the house and saw what they had for supper that night.
They, however, did not discover themselves till the second day after. They
probably wished to take a little time to learn the strength and preparation
of the inhabitants. The next day Mrs. McCoy, attended by their two dogs,
went down to see if any of the other families had returned from the garrison.
She found no one. On her return, as she was passing the block-house, which
stood near the present site of the meeting-house, the dogs, which had passed
around it, came running back growling and very much excited. Their appearance
induced her to make the best of her way home. The Indians afterwards told
her that they then lay concealed there and saw the dogs when they came
round.
"McCoy, being now strongly suspicious that the Indians were actually
in town, determined to set off the next day with his family for the garrision
at Nottingham. His family now consisted of himself, his wife and son John.
The younger children were still at the garrison. They accordingly secured
their house as well as they could and set off next morning McCoy and his
son with their guns, though without ammunition, having fired away what
they brought with them in hunting.
"As they were traveling a little distance east of the place where
the meeting-house now stands, Mrs. McCoy fell a little in the rear of the
others. This circumstance gave the Indians a favorable opportunity for
separating her from her husband and son. The Indians three men and a boy
lay in ambush near the foot of Marden's hill, not far from the junction
of the mountain road with the main road. Here they suffered McCoy and his
son to pass, but as his wife was passing them they reached from the bushes
and took hold of her, charging her to make no noise, and covering her mouth
with their hands, as she cried to her husband for assistance. Her husband,
hearing her cries, turned, and was about coming to her relief, but he no
sooner began to advance than the Indians, expecting probably that he would
fire upon them, began to raise their pieces, which she pushed one side
and motioned to her friends to make their escape, knowing that their guns
were not loaded, and that they would doubtless be killed if they approached.
They accordingly ran into the woods and made their escape to the garrison.
This took place August 21, 1747.
"The Indians then collected together what booty they could obtain,
which consisted of an iron trammel, from Mr. George Wallace's, the apples
of the only tree which bore in town, which was in the orchard now owned
by Mr. David Griffin, and some other trifling articles, and prepared to
set off with their prisoner for Canada.
"Before they took their departure they conveyed Mrs. McCoy to a
place near the little Suncook River, where they left her in the care of
the young Indian, while the three men, whose names were afterwards ascertained
to be Plausawa,1 Sabatis, and Christi, went away, and were from some time
absent. During heir absence Mrs. McCoy thought of attempting to make her
escape. She saw opportunities when she thought she might dispatch the young
Indian with the trammel, which, with other things, was left with them,
and thus perhaps avoid some strange and barbarous death or long and distressing
captivity. But, on the other hand, she knew not at what distance the others
were. If she attempted to kill her young keeper she might fail. If she
effected her purpose in this she might be pursued and overtaken by a cruel
and revengeful foe, and then some dreadful death would be her certain portion.
On the whole, she thought best to endeavor to prepare her mind to bear
what might be no more than a period of savage captivity. Soon, however,
the Indians returned and put an end, for the present, to all thoughts of
escape. From the direction in which they went and returned, and from their
smutty appearance, she suspected what their business had been. She told
them `she guessed they had been burning her house.' Plausawa, who could
speak some broken English, informed her they had.
"They now commenced their long and tedious journey to Canada, in
which the poor captive might well expect that great and complicated suffering
would be her lot. She did, indeed, find the journey fatiguing, and her
fare scant and precarious. But, in her treatment from the Indians, she
experienced a very agreeable disappointment. The kindness she received
from them was far greater than she had expected from those who were so
often distinguished from their cruelties. The apples they had gathered
they saved for her, giving her one every day. In this way they lasted her
as far on the way as Lake Champlain. They gave her the last as they were
crossing that lake in their canoes. This circumstance gave to the tree
on which the apples grew the name of `Isabella's tree,' her name being
Isabella. In many ways did they appear desirous of mitigating the distresses
of their prisoner while on their tedious journey.
When night came on, and they halted to repose themselves in the dark
wilderness, Plausawa, the head man, would make a little couch in the leaves
a little way from their, cover her up with his own blanket, and there she
was suffered to sleep undisturbed till morning. When they came to a river
which must be forded one of them would carry her over on his back. Nothing
like insult or indecency did they ever offer her during the whole time
she was with them. They carried her to Canada and sold her as a servant
to a French family, whence, at the close of that war, she returned home.
But so comfortable was her condition there, and her husband being a man
of rather a rough and violent temper, she declared she never should have
thought of attempting the journey home were it not for the sake of her
children.
"After capture of Mrs. McCoy the Indians frequently visited the
town, but never committed any very great depredations. The greatest damage
they ever did to the property of the inhabitants was the spoiling of all
the ox-teams in town. At the time referred to there were but four yoke
of oxen in the place, viz.: McCoy's, Captain McClary's, George Wallace's
and Lieutenant Blake's. It was a time of apprehension from the Indians,
and the inhabitants had therefore all fled to the garrison at Nottingham.
They left their oxen to graze about the woods, with a bell upon one of
them. The Indians found them, shot one out of each yoke, took out their
tongues, made a prize of the bell and left them.
"The ferocity and cruelty of the savages were doubtless very much
averted by a friendly, conciliatory course of conduct in the inhabitants
towards them. This was particularly the case in the course pursued by Sergeant
Blake. Being himself a curious marksman and an expert hunter _ traits of
character, in their view, of the highest order _ he soon secured their
respect; and, by a course of kind treatment, he secured their friendship
to such a degree that, though they had opportunities, they would not injure
him even in time of war.
"The first he ever saw of them was a company of them making towards
his house through the opening from the top of Sanborn's Hill. He fled to
the woods and there lay concealed till they had made a thorough search
about his house and inclosures and had gone off. The next time his visitors
came he was constrained to become more acquainted with them and to treat
them with more attention. As he was busily engaged towards the close of
the day in completing a yard for his cow, the declining sun suddenly threw
several long, enormous shadows on the ground before him. He had no sooner
turned to see the cause than he found himself in the company of a number
of stately Indians. Seeing his perturbation, they patted him on the head
and told him `not to be afraid, for they would not hurt him.' They then
went with him into his house, and their first business was to search all
his bottles to see if he had any `occapee' _ rum. They then told him they
were very hungry, and wanted something to eat. He happened to have a quarter
of a bear, which he gave them. They took it and threw it whole upon the
fire, and very soon began to cut and eat from it half raw. While they were
eating he employed himself in cutting pieces from it and broiling upon
a stick from them, which pleased them very much. After their repast they
wished for the privilege of lying by his fire through the night, which
he granted. The next morning they proposed trying skill with him in firing
at a mark. To this he acceded. But in this, finding themselves outdone,
they were very much astonished and chagrined; nevertheless they highly
commended him for his skill, patting him on the head and telling him, _
`if he would go off with them they would make him their big captain.' They
used often to call upon him, and his kindness to them they never forgot,
even in time of war.
"Plausawa had a peculiar manner of doubling his lip and producing
a very shrill, piercing whistle, which might be heard at a great distance.
At a time when considerable danger was apprehended from the Indians Blake
went off into the woods alone, though considered hazardous, to look for
his cow that was missing. As he was passing along by Sinclair's Brook,
an unfrequented place, northerly from McCoy's Mountain, a very loud, sharp
whistle, which he knew to be Plausawa's suddenly passed through his head
like the report of a pistol. The sudden alarm almost raised him from the
ground, and, with a very light step, he soon reached home without his cow.
In more peaceable times Plausawa asked him if he did not remember the time,
and laughed very much to think how he ran at the fright, and told him the
reason for his whistling. `Young Indian,' said he, `put up gun to shoot
Englishman; me knock it down and whistle to start you off,' _ so lasting
is their friendship when treated well. At the close of the wars the Indians
built several wigwams near the confluence of Wallace's Brook with the Great
Suncook. On a little island in this river, near the place called `Short
Falls,' one of them lived for a considerable time. Plausawa and Sabatis
were finally both killed in time of peace by one of the whites, after a
drunken quarrel, and buried near a certain brook in Boscawen.