One of the stories I collected that day concerned family of John Hatshorn, Jr. who lived in Haverhill, MA in the early 1700's. (Correct pronunciation in not Haver-hill, but Hay-vrill: I was once corrected by a local.) The following is my account from several source documents I read that day.
It was a hot summer morning in the small community of Haverhill, Massachusetts. The John Hartshorn Jr. family was about its daily chores. But this morning of August 29, 1708 was one that would have dire consequences for the young family. Little did they know that the Sunday breakfast they had just finished would be their last together as a family in this life. The entire community of Haverhill was in a state of commotion due to the fighting of the Queen Anne’s War which had spilled over into the Americas from Europe. John had taken precautions to provide for the defense of his wife and six children by digging a cellar under his two story home that could only be entered by way of a secret trap door. In case of attack by either the French or Native American tribes, the family was to hide in the cellar until it was safe to come out. The raid on Haverhill was lead by French commander Jean-Baptiste Hertel de Rouville who had enlisted the services of the Algonquin and Abenaki tribes.
All was calm until shortly after breakfast. Then, panic struck the young family when John spotted a war party approaching their isolated house ready to attack. For reasons known only to John or maybe even his wife, Hannah, John bolted from the house. Why he did not retreat to the cellar with his family is not known. Perhaps he felt that if the war party entered the house and saw no one there they would become suspicious and find the secret hiding place. Perhaps he felt he needed to buy some time so that his family could gather in the cellar. Or perhaps he thought he could lead the attackers away from the house altogether. Nevertheless, as John ran he was followed by his 11 year old son, John III, and 9 year old son, Thomas. All three were shot dead before they could run fifty feet. Another son, Jonathan, age 5, also tried to run from the house but was quickly caught and killed by the savage blow of an Algonquin tomahawk.
Inside the house, Hannah was horrified at the massacre of her husband and three sons. But, she still had enough presence of mind to gather her other sons and head for the secret cellar. As she began to pick up four month old David she realized that his crying might give away their hiding place and result in the demise of the rest of the family. So reluctantly she set the infant on the bed in the second story bedroom and covered him with blankets, hoping that the attackers would not go upstairs, and then took the other two boys, Jacob, age 7, and Timothy, age 2,into the cellar to hide.
Shortly thereafter, the Algonquins entered the house and began their deeds of plunder. Little time passed before the intruders discovered baby David in the second story bedroom. In an act of the utmost cruelty and disdain for human life, the infant was taken by the marauding warriors and thrown out the second story window.
After what seemed like an eternity, the attackers left the Hartshorn house only to continue pillaging other residences in the area. Once the carnage of Haverhill was completed, they left to return to their French allies in Canada. Sixteen people had been killed and 14-24 taken captive back to Canada. As soon as the war party had vacated the vicinity, John Hartshorn’s father, John Sr., raced to his son’s house to see how the young family fared the attack. His own wife had been killed during the raid. He was devastated at the sight of his slain son and grandsons outside the house. As he sped to enter the open front door his eyes caught a glimpse of a pile of clapboards along the side of the house. Lying on top of the pile was the baby, David. John Sr. hurried to the pile of boards, his heart pounding in foreboding anticipation of what other tragedy he might encounter. There, he gently picked up the motionless infant. He examined the baby and found, much to his relief, that the child was alive and only stunned by the ordeal. Little David soon regained consciousness and was otherwise unharmed. John Sr. then proceeded to enter the cellar and bring out the frightened mother and children, now forced to endure the difficulties of early colonial life in America without a husband and father.
I was deeply touched by this tragic story of hardship and courage which does, by the way, end on a positive note. The young baby, David, grew to be a man of large stature and great strength. He was also the father of seventeen children; one from which we are directly descended via Grandma Blanche (Blanche Ruby Worthen).
Next week, there's more to this story than this!!
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| Headstone of John Hartshorn, Jr. |
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