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1 2017-08-01T19:25:43+00:00 Lauren Tuiskula b7c9c11aacd058b57ca4a71131c107a00033aab2 6 2 View from near the Mather Tomb at Copp's hill. plain 2017-08-03T20:24:55+00:00 Lauren Tuiskula b7c9c11aacd058b57ca4a71131c107a00033aab2This page is referenced by:
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2017-08-03T19:13:21+00:00
Wind-mill Hill
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Contributed by Nia Holley and Lauren Tuiskula
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2017-12-13T22:32:07+00:00
Eight of the Native people taken by Waldron at Cocheco and sent to Boston were executed at what is known today as Copp’s Hill Burying Ground, now featured as a stop on Boston’s Freedom Trail. They were executed on September 13, just one week after being taken at Cocheco.
Both Increase Mather and Samuel Sewall recounted the day of the execution in their diaries. Mather writes, “There were 8 Indians shot to death in Boston of those that were bro’t in from the Eastward.” [1]
Sewall describes the day in more detail, providing the location of the execution, a place once referred to as “Wind-mill hill.” In an entry dated Sept. 13 he writes, “The after part of the day very rainy. Note, there were eight Indians shot to death on the Common upon Wind-mill hill.” [2]
Their names were not recorded.
In a later entry dated September 22, Mather writes of four Nipmuc leaders also brought down from near Cocheco and executed at Wind-mill hill. “This day Sagamore Sam [Shoshanim] was hanged at Boston … The same day 3 other Indians hanged, viz the Sagamore of Quaboag [Matoonus], one-eyed John [Monoco], & [Old] Jethro. They were betrayed into the hands of the English by Indians.” Mather referenced Peter Jethro, the son of Old Jethro, in implying that these four leaders were betrayed and taken by “Indians,” not by English men. However, the story of Peter Jethro, and the circumstances of this capture, are much more complicated than Mather acknowledged.
Ironically, Increase Mather’s tomb is located at Wind-mill hill. He was buried there in 1723, the very place he likely witnessed and recorded the execution of eight unnamed Indians over 40 years earlier. Mather is interred with his son, fellow minister, Cotton Mather.
Why Here? How Copp’s Hill Came to Be
The signage and documentation at present day Copp’s Hill tells that the burying ground was constructed in 1659. What was there before it was a burying ground? Why did they choose to hold the executions at this site?
Early maps and writings show that prior to being named Copp’s Hill or wind-mill hill, the spot near Boston common was simply called “Mill Hill.” See a map of Boston in 1648 here. In his diary, Massachusetts Governor John Winthrop notes that in August of 1632 the windmill was brought down from “neere Newtone” and placed at Copp’s Hill. The hill was later named for William Copp, a shoemaker who owned a lot nearby. A map of Boston in 1676 marks the spot simply as the “burying place.”
There are no markers acknowledging the death of these Native men on Copp’s Hill. It is unlikely they were buried at the cemetery, but the high, prominent location was likely the reason that the executions were carried out on the hill.
Copp’s Hill and the Massacre at Hurtleberry Hill
In addition to his description of the four Nipmuc leaders executed at Copp’s Hill, Mather makes note that a “sick Englishman” named Goble “was hanged with the very same rope” that had been used to hang “Sagamore Sam” or Shoshanim. In her article “Massacre at Hurtleberry Hill: Christian Indians in English Authority in Metacom’s War,” Jenny Hale Pulsipher describes the incident that led to Daniel Goble’s execution.
As Pulsipher describes, on August 7, 1676, three Native women and three children gathered berries at Hurtleberry Hill, near Concord, after they were granted permission by Daniel Gookin to leave their camp in Cambridge. The woman were under the watch of a guide named John Stoolemester. Stoolemester wandered off from the group, and was found by English soldiers who seized him, as he was an armed Indian, and therefore, they judged, “must be an enemy.” [4] After learning that he had just been released from English military service, the soldiers let Stoolemester go and proceeded to Hurtleberry Hill, where they later encountered the women and children gathering berries. The soldiers exchanged bread and cheese for some of the fruit, and then the company moved on, but not before four of the soldiers took note of the group. The four later slipped back out and returned to Hurtleberry Hill, where they chased and murdered the women and children,.
Stoolemester, who left quickly after being dismissed by the English, relayed news of his meeting to his camp. Eventually the story reached Andrew Pittimee, husband to one of the murdered women, brother to the other two, and one of the Indian scouts tasked with aiding the English. Fearing for their safety after hearing Stoolemester’s story, Pittimee requested of Daniel Gookin that two Englishmen go out and find the women and children. The bodies were found after two days of searching.
On August 11, four days after the murders, the four Englishmen were found guilty by the Court of Assistants and sent to prison in Boston. They were Daniel Hoar, Daniel Goble, and Stephen Goble from Concord, and Nathaniel Wilder from Lancaster.
Pulsipher highlights the significance of the men’s conviction. She writes: “What was surprising was that these four men in Boston were tried, convicted, and sentenced to death by a jury of Englishmen — the only time in the war that anyone was punished for committing violence against an Indian” [5].
Although the conviction was initially noteworthy, and both Daniel and Stephen Goble were executed, Daniel Hoar and Nathaniel Wilder were eventually released. In the October session following the massacre, the Court heard a petition by the two men who had murdered the Native women and their children at Hurtleberry Hill and allowed these two remaining men to be set free. As Andrew Pittimee watched hundreds of his relations sent “into foreign parts,” he was given ten pounds, to be shared with the other survivors, for his loss.
Copp’s Hill and the Wannukhows
Wind-mill hill is a site important to other stories as well. William Wannukhow and his sons, who were convicted of burning the home of Goodman Eames in Framingham, were executed at the site with Stephen Goble. Sewall writes in his diary: “Stephen Goble of Concord, was executed for murder of Indians: three Indians for firing Eames his house, and murder”. Just as the names of those taken from Cocheco and executed at Boston were not recorded, Sewall also fails to record the names of the Wannukhows. [6]
Increase Mather also made note of this execution in his diary, adding his own commentary. Unlike Sewall, he does not name the Englishman that was killed writing “There were 3 Indians hanged & an Englishman hanged also, for murdering the Indians not far from Concord.” However, he ends the entry by noting, “A sad thing also that English & Indians should be executed together.” [7]
Slavery after Cocheco
The above explores the limited record of the Native people executed immediately after Waldron’s raid at Cocheco. What remains unknown is what happened to those that were sent into slavery following Waldron’s raid, nearly 350 people unnamed and unaccounted for. Some likely sat nearby in prison awaiting their fate while those they were taken with were executed. Others may have been quickly sent into the slave trade. According to historian Margaret Newell, during August and September, Massachusetts colony “sold over 190 Indians to various buyers in lots ranging from 1 individual to 41, while Plymouth disposed of an additional 169.” Newell notes that “women, girls, and infants represented 68 percent of the total.” [8] There were also a small number of people, taken at Cocheco, who escaped enslavement and death. Some of their stories are told in this path, including Mary Namesit and Samuel Numphow.
Waldron's actions at Cocheco jeopardized peace negotiations. Many of the people sent down to Boston had been part of the peace process, but their loss and betrayal precipitated the violence that continued throughout the next year.
[1] Diary by Increase Mather, 46 (need full citation)
[2] https://archive.org/stream/diaryofsamuelsew01sewaiala#page/22/mode/2up
[3] Diary by Increase Mather, 47
[4] Pulsipher, Jenny Hale. "Massacre at Hurtleberry Hill: Christian Indians and English Authority in Metacoms War." The William and Mary Quarterly 53, no. 3 (1996): 459. doi: 10.2307/2947201
[5] Ibid, 460
[6] Sewall
[7] Mather[8] Margaret Ellen Newell, Brethren by Nature: New England Indians, Colonists, and the Origins of American Slavery (Ithaca: Cornell University Press, 2015), 168]
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2017-08-02T16:30:43+00:00
Peter Jethro and the Capture of Monoco
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2017-12-20T17:04:29+00:00
In his Relation, Increase Mather exclaimed, “That abominable Indian Peter Jethro betrayed his own Father and other Indians of his own special Acquaintance, unto Death. Many of the Nipmuc Indians who were wont to lay Snares for others, were at last themselves taken by a Stratagem, and brought to deserved Execution.” Mather referred to the capture of several key Nipmuc leaders, as well as Peter's father “Old Jethro” or Tantamous, who were sent down to Boston from Cocheco, then executed on Windmill Hill. However, in this statement, Mather obscured the complex context of their capture by attributing a singular betrayal to the Nipmuc convert, Peter Jethro, who was seemingly able to accomplish, through “stratagem” what the colonial troops and scouts under Captain Hunting could not. Peter Jethro’s story, as it unravels, raises more questions than answers about the "second company" that came down from Cocheco.[1]
On September 23, 1676, Samuel Sewall noted in his diary that “One-ey’d John [Monoco], with about 45 of your Southern Indians, have been apprehended since the Souldiers went Eastward. This group included “a Sagamore of Quapaug,” referring to Muttaump.[2] The passive voice is notable here, as none of these captives were taken by the “souldiers.” Both Increase Mather and William Hubbard placed the blame for this “betrayal” solely on Peter Jethro, displacing the role of Cocheco trader Richard Waldron as well as the Massachusetts leaders who recruited Jethro and other scouts. If Captain Hunting’s “soldiers” had such trouble locating Indians in their expeditions on the Wabanaki coast, ranging north of Cocheco, how is it that a singular scout was able to capture so many “southern Indians” who had taken refuge in the north, including three formidable leaders?
"Life and Liberty": Two Spies and an Offer of Amnesty
On August 28, 1676, the Massachusetts Council ordered Gookin to recruit at least “two Indians” to serve as “spies among the enemy.” These spies were empowered to give “assurance” to other Native people in the Nipmuc, Penacook and Wabanaki countries, particularly those who held English captives, that “in case they will come in & Submitt themselves to ye mercy of” the colonial “government” they would “have their lives given them & freed from foreign slavery.” This message was similar to the offer of amnesty that had been extended to James Printer and his relations, and was likely an immediate context for Shoshanim's effort to "obtain peace" at Cocheco, just days after this order. But it also offers an explanation for the capture of Monoco and Tantamous, or Old Jethro. Shortly after the “surprise” at Cocheco, Richard Waldron reported that two Native women came in to Cocheco “informing that one eyed John [Monoco] & [old] Jethro were designing ye Surprizing of Canonicus,” the Narragansett sachem, and that they desired to speak with “some of our old men” to seek their advice. Waldron reported that he sent someone, perhaps Peter Jethro, abroad to “further the design,” which may have included not only the capture of Canonicus, but of Monoco and the other leaders. Waldron later acknowledged in a letter to Daniel Gookin that he had given Peter Jethro incentive for the capture of Monoco, and Peter insisted he had been promised "life and liberty" for this service. Perhaps both Nashaway leaders, Monoco and Shoshanim, were induced to come in under the offer of peace and amnesty.[3]
If they came in under the promise of life and liberty, Monoco and “Old Jethro” may have offered Canonicus, a highly valued captive in exchange. Indeed, Waldron's report conflicts with another report from Cocheco, recorded by Samuel Sewell in his diary, that Mohawks had taken Canonicus, perhaps a cover for the more complicated context of captivity and coercion. While Monoco and Shoshanim had played highly visible roles in the war, Old Jethro had not. He merely escaped from Natick as Captain Prentice rounded up the residents for Deer Island, bringing his family with him. He found protection among the Nipmucs, but there is no evidence he participated in any raids or ambushes. Rather, he was likely among the many noncombatants who came in seeking peace and amnesty.[4]
Was Peter Jethro scouting with a large group, like Captain Hunting’s scouts? Or did he act on his own, with a small company, recruited by Gookin and Waldron? Were there groups of scouts that left with orders, from Cocheco, which were not reported back to Boston (or for which the records no longer exist)? Did Peter Jethro travel from Cocheco to the upper Merrimack, pursuing the Nashaway men at Penacook, where they may have been among the people sheltered with Wanalancet? Or were they among the resistance at Ossipee? Were they persuaded to come into Cocheco under the pretense of peace, or taken by ambush and force?
Peter Jethro’s relationship to the captured men is worth considering. Peter may have had a personal motivation for tracking down Monoco, in addition to the promise of his own “life and liberty.” Peter and his father were among those captives taken at Okkanamesit, along with James Printer, and imprisoned for the false charge of murdering settlers at Lancaster, a raid which Monoco had led. Moreover, both Monoco and Shoshanim had been at Weshawkim in 1674 when Gookin sent Peter Jethro to pursue missionary efforts at Nashaway, an overture that was not welcomed, especially given the missionaries’ efforts to influence governance at Nashaway through the guise of religious concern. Perhaps, in Peter Jethro’s mind, turning the Nashaway war leader in to the men at Cocheco and Boston signaled a kind of justice. Yet, Peter had also served as scribe for Shoshanim and the Nipmuc sachems, writing one of the letters that led to Mary Rowlandson’s release from Wachusett. Was Peter someone Shoshanim thought he could trust? And what role did his father play? Josiah Temple suggests the elder, a traditional spiritual man, resisted missionary overtures, a clear divide between father and son, and that Peter “had been so long under the instruction of the English, that he had become almost one of them.” Was there enmity between Peter Jethro and his father? Did he truly betray his own father, or did he imagine that he could also advocate for his father’s “liberty”? Did he know that “Old Jethro” would face execution, that the rest of his family would be shipped into slavery? Did he bargain their lives for his individual salvation? [5]
Even after this “betrayal,” Peter could not even guarantee his own “life and liberty.” When Daniel Gookin pressed Richard Waldron, the trader replied through correspondence that he had only promised that if Peter were “Instrumental” in bringing in Monoco, he “would acquaint ye Governor with what service he had done & Improve my Interest in his behalfe.” Monoco’s execution in Boston was not enough to guarantee Peter’s protection. However, with Gookin’s advocacy, Peter Jethro ultimately earned his life and liberty, later appearing on numerous deeds and other documents as Massachusetts colony sought to confirm its titles to land in Nipmuc country after the war.[6][1] Increase Mather, A Relation of the Troubles Which Have Happened in New England, ed. Samuel G. Drake (Boston, 1864), 257-8. Diary of Increase Mather, March, 1675-December, 1676, ed. Samuel A. Green (Cambridge, J. Wilson, 1900), 47. William Hubbard, A History of the Indian Wars in New England, ed. Samuel Gardner Drake (Roxbury, MA: W.E. Woodward, 1865), 133. George Madison Bodge, Soldiers in King Philip’s War (Boston: Rockwell and Churchill, 1906), 307-9.[2] The Diary of Samuel Sewall: 1674–1729, ed. M. Halsey Thomas (New York: Farrar, Straus, and Giroux, 1973), 23.[3] Bodge, Soldiers, 307-9. Massachusetts Council to Daniel Gookin, August 28, 1676, Massachusetts Archives 30:214, 30:226. Samuel Gardner Drake, The Book of the Indians (Boston: Antiquarian Bookstore, 1841) 3:81. J. H. Temple, History of Framingham, Massachusetts (Town of Framingham, 1887), 51-2.
[4]Diary of Samuel Sewall, 22-24. Temple, History of Framingham, 51-2.[5] Drake, Book of the Indians 3:81. Daniel Gookin, Historical Collections of the Indians of New England (1674) (North Stratford, NH: Ayer, 2000), 53-4. Temple, History of Framingham, 51-2.[6] Bodge, Soldiers, 309. Daniel Mandell, Behind the Frontier: Indians in Eighteenth-Century Eastern Massachusetts (Lincoln, NE: University of Nebraska Press, 1996), 32. See also Mary de Witt Freeland, The Records of Oxford, Massachusetts (Albany: Joel Munsell's Sons, 1894), 126 -
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2017-05-29T18:42:06+00:00
The Captivity of Samuel Numphow
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Contributed by Allyson LaForge with Lisa Brooks
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2019-06-03T15:57:08+00:00
An important context for the Captivity at Cocheco is the Cocheco Treaty of July 1676, which was led by the Penacook sachem Wannalancet and included multiple signatories. Among them were the Saco River sachem known to the English as Squando, who led multiple raids on the Northern Front, and the Patucket scholar Samuel Numphow, who had gone on an expedition to locate Wanalancet for the Massachusetts Council early in the war. The Cocheco Treaty arose from the spring 1676 peacemaking process that was initiated by Native leaders gathered on Kwinitekw and at Wachusett, including Shoshanim (Sagamore Sam), with representatives from Massachusetts Bay and Connecticut colonies. It was also the pretext for bringing additional people to Cocheco in to join the peace in September 1676.[1]
Samuel Numphow and Shoshanim
Penacook leaders gave sanctuary to relations coming from places as diverse as the “praying town” of Wamesit and the Nipmuc stronghold of Wachusett. Wanalancet sought to shelter them all under this peace agreement. Shoshanim of Nashaway had played a leadership role before and during the war and helped initiate the process of peace. Samuel Numphow of Wamesit had served the Massachusetts colony and participated directly in the Cocheco treaty. In the spring, Shoshanim’s family had been taken captive, and some killed, by Massachusetts forces, even while he was on a mission which arose from the treaty negotiations, as he traveled to the Connecticut River in diplomacy to bring back English captives. Likewise, Numphow had seen similar captivity and violence toward his own relations due to misplaced settler vigilante violence in his mission community. Ironically, Waldron sent both Numphow and Shoshanim to Boston as prisoners.
At the beginning of September, Shoshanim came in voluntarily with Wananlancet to “obtain peace” following the Cocheco Treaty, but Waldron “secure[d] him, and sen[t] him to ye Governor at Boston.” Wanalancet and others pleaded with Waldron to “save his life, if it be possible.” Only days later, Samuel Numphow was sent to Boston with the large party of prisoners taken in the “surprise.” There is no record of any trial for Shoshanim, or any testimony against him. On September 26, Shoshanim was hanged in Boston Common, alongside his kinsman Monoco, the Quabaug leader Mattawamp, and the elder Tantamous, or “Old Jethro.” Daniel Gookin noted that Numphow “hardly escap[ed]” with his life. Daniel Gookin’s account makes clear that the Wamesit leader was in danger of enslavement or even death, along with the two hundred or more shipped into slavery and the eight unnamed Cocheco captives who were “shot to death on Common, upon Wind-mill hill" in Boston. Numphow’s story illustrates the challenges the Cocheco captives faced and the narrow window of “escape,” even for a “praying Indian” and scholar fluent in English.[2]Testimony against Samuel Numphow
While Samuel Numphow was held in Boston, two testimonies came in against him: one from Mary Osgood and one from Timothy Abbott, both of Andover. From these testimonies, we can discern how the Massachusetts Bay magistrates attempted to build a case against Numphow, who had strived to maintain peaceful relations with the English. The testimonies were delivered on September 11, 1676, four days after Waldron sent the first company of Native people down to Boston from Cocheco.
Abbott and Osgood were both from Andover, which bordered Wamesit, the praying town where Numphow was a teacher. Despite their proximity to each other, their testimonies concerned separate events. Osgood described an encounter that took place “about a year ago.” She stated that Samuel Numphow was “bound for Strawberry Banke” (Portsmouth, in New Hampshire colony) with two other Indians, but “ye same night ye said Samuel returned back againe to Andover.” When Osgood questioned Numphow’s motivations for returning, she claimed, “his answer was that he had not money enough to carry him like a man and therefore would not goe but wthin two months should have money enough.” Osgood then asked where he would get the money, to which Numphow replied that he would “have it at Boston” and that he would “goe ahunting [for beaver].” Osgood reported that there was “never a beaver skinn.” The circumstances of this exchange between Numphow and Osgood are unclear, but Numphow may have been making reference to his scouting mission to the north to find Wannalancet. He may have planned to go to Boston to receive payment for his service, and intended to go hunting, during or after his scouting expedition. Furthermore, if Numphow were headed to Boston to meet with colonial authorities and to receive money for his scouting trip, he may have kept his reasons intentionally hidden from Osgood. Nonetheless, her testimony cast suspicion on Numphow’s motivation for returning to Andover, an example of how colonial people monitored and attempted to restrict the movements of Native people during King Philip’s War.[3]
Osgood’s testimony was accompanied by Timothy Abbott’s, who was taken captive during a raid on Andover on April 8, 1676. Abbott was the son of George Abbott, whose garrison house was the first attacked. According to the Historical Sketches of Andover , Timothy Abbott and his brother, Joseph Abbott, were both at work in the fields when a Native force came upon them. Joseph Abbott was a soldier in the colonial army who had fought in the Great Swamp Fight at Narragansett. The author of Historical Sketches, Sarah Loring Baily, speculates that the Indians “knew who were the men in town who had helped murder their brethren in the swamp fight” and attacked accordingly, killing Joseph and taking Timothy captive. Timothy was likely first brought to Wachusett and then north to Penacook, where he met Numphow, who had also traveled north for the ongoing peace negotiations and to escape the violence and turmoil in Wamesit. Abbott returned to Andover in August; according Thomas Cobbett’s account, “Good-wife Abbott’s boy of Andover was brought home, almost starved, by a poor” Native woman “that had always been tender to him whilst in captivity.” Abbott’s return was possibly related to the end of war on the southern front or the peace treaty signed on July 3 in Cocheco, further complicating the story told in Historical Sketches of Andover.[4]
Timothy Abbott referred to this period of captivity in his testimony against Numphow, stating that as a “captive among ye Indians,” he “did...observe and take notice oft ye carriage and profound imperious insulting oft the said Samm Nobbough who I have heard to threaten one William Bollard of Andover.” According to Abbott, “Nobbough woude whipp [Bollard] to death.” Abbott’s statement further implicated Numphow, portraying him as an enemy of the English; however, the reasons for Numphow’s conflict with Bollard are unclear from the testimony. William Ballard of Andover is listed among those soldiers who participated in the Great Swamp Fight. Furthermore, Numphow’s presence away from Wamesit, in Penacook territory, was in part due to unfair accusations against his people by the English. As Gookin related, Numphow and his people “had not been in hostility against the English, nor had done them any wrong, only fled away for fear, and for wrongs suffered from some English.” These wrongs included the attack on several Wamesit people for the burning of a barn in Chelmsford in November 1675, an act in which the Wamesits had played no part. In February 1676, Wamesit leaders petitioned the council in Boston for removal from their precarious location; ultimately, the Wamesits were forced to leave, fleeing toward “Pennahoog.” Abbott’s description of Numphow’s “insulting” provided evidence against him in Boston, but given the circumstances of the Wamesit peoples’ refuge, the likelihood that Numphow would attack an Andover man for no reason was slim. Perhaps William Bollard had threatened the Wamesits, or perhaps Abbott misconstrued the conflict in his declaration.[5]
Despite the two testimonies against him, Numphow was ultimately released; it is likely that Gookin advocated for him, as he did for Mary Namesit. Several others from Wamesit who were sent to Boston were also released, including Numphow’s brother, Jonathan George, and Simon Betomkin, another Christian Indian who acted as a scribe for Shoshanim, and later, for Wanalancet’s brother, the Penacook sachem Kancamagus.[6] They were likely among those returned to Wamesit, along with Wanalancet, under the guard of land speculator Jonathan Tyng. The circumstances of Numphow’s capture and accusation show how tenuous the charges against those taken at Cocheco were, calling into question thet division of “guilty” and “innocent” that took place in Boston.[1] Pascataqua River, Cocheco 3rd July 1676 Treaty, Massachusetts Archives, Volume 30, Document 206b. Transcription in George Madison Bodge, Soldiers in King Philip’s War (Boston: Rockwell and Churchill Press, 1896), 304.
[2] Richard Waldron to Gov. Leverett, September 2, 1676, Portsmouth, AYER Mss 962, no. 2, Newberry Library, Chicago. Samuel Sewall, “Diary of Samuel Sewall, 1674-1729,” Collections of the Massachusetts Historical Society, Volume 5 (Boston: Published by the Society, 1878), 17, 23. Samuel Gardner Drake, The Book of the Indians (Boston: Antiquarian Bookstore, 1841), 3:83. Daniel Gookin, “Historical Account of the Doings and Sufferings of the Christian Indians in New England,” Transactions and Collections of the American Antiquarian Society, Vol. II (Cambridge: Printed for the Society at the UP, 1836), 492.
[3] “Declaration of Mary Osgood,” Massachusetts State Archives, Volume 30, Document 219a.
[4] Sarah Loring Baily, Historical sketches of Andover, (Comprising the present towns of North Andover and Andover), Massachusetts (Boston: Houghton, Mifflin and Company, Riverside Press, Cambridge, 1880), 173-6. Thomas Cobbett, "A Narrative of New England's Deliverances," New England Historical and Genealogical Register, vol. 7 (1853), 218.
[5] “Declaration of Timothy Abbott.” Massachusetts State Archives. Volume 30. Document 219. Gookin, “Historical Account,” 491-2. Bodge, Soldiers, 422.
[6] For Shoshanim and the Nipmuc leaders’ letters, see Mary White Rowlandson, The Sovereignty and Goodness of God: With Related Documents, ed. Neal Salisbury (Boston: Bedford Books, 1997), 140-1. For Kancamagus’ letter, see Colin Calloway, Dawnland Encounters: Indians and Europeans in Northern New England (Hanover, NH: University Press of New England, 1991), 96-7.