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Ancestors of Margaret May Harvey


      143. Susanna Cutting, born 1653 in Watertown, Middlesex County, MA; died Unknown in Braintree, Norfolk County, MA. She was the daughter of 286. Richard Cutting, Jr* and 287. Sarah Stone.

Notes for Peter Newcomb:
402 Peter Newcomb?? (Francis??), b. in Braintree, Mass., 16:3:1648 [May 16, 1648], "husbandman;" m. 26(4) 1672 [June 26, 1672], Susannah, dan. of Richard and Sarah Cutting of Watertown; she was dismissed from chh. in W. 11 (4) 1674, to Braintree chh. His 2d wife, Mary (???), who d. May. 1738, appears to have been the widow of (???) Humphrey. Mr. N. resided in Braintree until his death, May 20, 1725; he was fence-viewer 1693, field-driver 1694, surveyor years 1698-99, 1702-03, and 1706; tything-man 1710-11; was admitted to chh. Mar. 4, 1722-3. In 1698 he agreed with his brother John to sustain the town against project of dividing parishes. His will is on file in Probate Office, Boston. He gave son Jonathan, a piece of meadow: son Peter, west end of house, etc.; son Richard, land bought of Mr. Hobart, and other lands, and other half of house; dau. Susannah Hobart, now deceased, and Sarah Hobart, living, had portions; dau. Rachel Everett, œ10; wife Mary, use of house and sundry goods; date, Apr. 8, 1725; signed by his mark. His estate was inventoried at œ740 1s., including: house and 1 acre of orchard, ?? of 5 acres upland and 1 acre marsh, 2 acres marsh and creek, 12 acres upland, 3 shares woodland in 12th lot in the 600 acres, and 1 share in the Little Division. Administration to his widow, Mary, was granted May 10, 1738; she dying soon after, administration was granted to son Peter. She gave by will, 1738, to son Jonas Humphrey of Weymouth, all lands; to dau. Mary Newcomb, household goods; to grands. Peter, money; to grands. Jedediah, "all land that fell to me at death of my son Richard," and part of house and barn: to grands. Richard, œ10.




More About Peter Newcomb:
Date born 2: 16 May 1640, ?
Church: 04 Mar 1722/23, Braintree, MA, admitted
Occupation 1: Husbandman
Occupation 2: 1693, fence-viewer
Occupation 3: 1694, field-driver
Occupation 4: Bet. 1698 - 1699, Surveyor
Occupation 5: Bet. 1702 - 1703, Surveyor
Occupation 6: 1706, Surveyor
Occupation 7: Bet. 1710 - 1711, tything-man
Will: 08 Apr 1725, Dated

More About Peter Newcomb and Susanna Cutting:
Marriage: 26 Jun 1672, Braintree, Norfolk County, MA378
Marriage Note: 26 Apr 1672, Old calendar?
     
Children of Peter Newcomb and Susanna Cutting are:
  71 i.   Susanna Newcomb, born 22 Apr 1673 in Braintree, Norfolk County, MA; died 23 Dec 1725 in Braintree, Norfolk County, MA; married Benjamin Hubbard, Sr 04 Apr 1698 in Braintree, Norfolk County, MA.
  ii.   Rebecca Newcomb, born 14 Nov 1673 in Braintree, Norfolk County, MA; died Unknown.
  iii.   Hannah Newcomb, born Abt. 1675 in Braintree, Norfolk County, MA; died Unknown.
  iv.   Rachel Newcomb, born Abt. 1675 in Braintree, Norfolk County, MA; died 05 Feb 1677/78 in Braintree, Norfolk County, MA; married John Everett; died Unknown.
  v.   Peter Newcomb, born 05 May 1678 in Braintree, Norfolk County, MA; died Unknown.
  Notes for Peter Newcomb:
Died young.

  vi.   Rachel Newcomb, born 05 May 1678 in Braintree, Norfolk County, MA; died 08 Dec 1747 in Dedham, Norfolk County, MA.
  vii.   Sarah Newcomb, born Abt. 1682 in Braintree, Norfolk County, MA; died Unknown; married Unknown Hobart; died Unknown.
  viii.   Jonathan Newcomb, born 01 Mar 1684/85 in Braintree, Norfolk County, MA; died Nov 1745; married Deborah Unknown; died Unknown.
  ix.   Peter Newcomb, born 29 Jul 1689 in Braintree, Norfolk County, MA; died Unknown; married Mary Humphrey 01 Jan 1711/12; died Unknown.
  More About Peter Newcomb and Mary Humphrey:
Marriage: 01 Jan 1711/12
  x.   Richard Newcomb, born Abt. 1694 in Braintree, Norfolk County, MA; died Bef. 1704.
  xi.   Richard Newcomb, born 17 Mar 1703/04 in Braintree, Norfolk County, MA; died 09 Jul 1728.


      144. Capt. Zechariah Field, born 29 Aug 1685 in Hatfield, MA379; died 15 Aug 1746 in Northfield, MA. He was the son of 288. Sgt. Samuel Field, Sr and 289. Sarah Gilbert. He married 145. Sarah Mattoon 31 Dec 1711 in Deerfield, MA.

      145. Sarah Mattoon, born 25 Apr 1687 in Deerfield, Franklin County, MA379; died 21 Mar 1752380. She was the daughter of 290. Philip Mattoon, Sr and 291. Sarah H. Hawkes.

Notes for Capt. Zechariah Field:
"FIELD GENEALOGY"
Frederick Clifton Pierce
page 141

CAPTAIN ZECHARIAH FIELD (Samuel, Zechariah, John, John, Richard, William, William), b. Hatfield, Mass., Aug. 29, 1685; m., Dec. 31, 1711, Sarah Mattoon. She m., 2d, June 25, 1750, Deacon Samuel Childs. She died March 21, 1752.

Zechariah Field, son of Samuel and Sarah (Gilbert), was born in Hatfield, Mass. He came to Deerfield in 1710. He removed in the spring of 1717 to Northfield, where he died. He was chosen ensign in December, 1717, after Lieut. Thomas Taylor was drowned, subsequently chosen Lieut. and in 1743, captain. In 1718 Ensign Zechariah Field built mills on Miller's brook, which were held by his heirs for many years. He built a house on his home lot, which was finished in 1724. In the spring of 1724 a mount was built at his house, which was brick lined, for a guard against Indian attacks. Upon the organization of the town, Jan. 15, 1723, he was chosen first selectman, and afterward generally held some important town office. In 1739 he purchased, in company with Orlando Bridgman, for œ500, of Colonel Stoddard, of Northampton, his farm of 100 acres in little meadow. He soon purchased Mr. Bridgman's share, and the place is known in modern times as the Field farm, and was lately owned and occupied by one of his descendants, Thomas J. Field.

He was in the meadow fight, in Deerfield, in the attempt to rescue the captives, Feb. 29, 1704. He purchased, in 1720, of Pompanoot, son of Wawelet, 30,000 acres on Miller's river, at Payuayag (now Athol), for which he paid twelve pounds, being the balance of all the desirable land claimed by the Indians as original proprietors. His own petition to Governor Belcher best tells the story:

"To His Excellency Jona Belcher,
It being represented to me that it would be for the interest of this Government to purchase the right of Pompanoot son of and heir to Wawelet one of the Chiefs among the Indians, of and in a large tract of land lying upon Millers River so called, at a place called Payuayag (Athol) of the contents of about 30,000 acres, bounded upon large falls on said river easterly, extending seven miles down the river, running four miles southerly from ye sd. river, and two miles northerly. And your memorialist being intimately acquainted with the said Pompanoot, and considering that if the land should not be bought of him before the English begun to make some settlement and build upon the sd land, he would afterwards demand a much higher price, than if bought before such improvement. Your memorialist for the good of the country bought the sd land of sd Indian in the year 1720 for an inconsiderable sum, viz. twelve pounds, which is now of great worth. And the sd land by the authority of the Great and General Court has been lately granted for a Township to the English inhabitants. Though your petitioner has it under the hand of a great number of Indians that the sd land was the right of the said Pompanoot by virtue of a gift from his honored father Wawelet, yet is entirely satisfied that this grant of the Court should take place provided he be recompensed for the L12 advanced, with interest, or receive a part of said land. Northfield April 1733, Zechariah Field"

Northfield April 1733.
Zechariah Field."

In consideration of the aforesaid purchase, the general court allotted him for his trouble and money advanced, 800 acres of the land, which by running of town lines fell mostly in New Salem.

The general court afterward granted the same land to other parties, regardless of the first agreement. But being determined to maintain his rights, he was allotted land enough by the general court as they considered an equivalent, in Buckland, after several years had elapsed from the first allottment. He never considered he received an equivalent for his money and services, besides the annoyance of following up officials. He married Sarah, daughter of Philip and Sarah (Hawks) Mattoon, of Deerfield, born April 25, 1687. She was one of that miserable company captured at Deerfield, Feb. 29, 1704, and was carried to Canada. After suffering incredible hardship she was ransomed and returned the next year. She was allowed by the probate court a share of the property of Mathew Clesson, who was killed in a fight with Indians in the meadow in 1709, she being engaged in marriage to him.

He removed to Northfield in 1714. He paid the largest tax there in 1717, and the third largest in 1729. In 1729 he bought for œ550 the land now known as the Field farm, at Northfield Farms. He held more land than anyone in town in 1733. That year he was granted by the general court 800 acres near Athol, in return for a purchase of 30,000 acres, bought from the Indians, in 1720, for œ12, which shrewd purchase was not confirmed by the court. In 1717 and later was an ensign, ranging against the Indians; a militia captain in 1743; selectman in 1721, 1733 and 1738-42; town treasurer in 1739-41; a leading man in the church.

In 1715 Zechariah Field was appointed surveyor of highways, and the following year a fence viewer. In 1716 he was on a committee "to inspect the minister's house, the building of the same and to appoint and procure workmen and materials, and take an account of all service and expense about said building, and render their account to said committee and by them allowed."

In 1733 when it was well assured that Northfield was to stand, men who had ready cash began to invest it in lands in and around the plantation. Ensign Zechariah Field made a wholesale purchase.

In 1717 he was chosen ensign in place of Thomas Taylor, who was drowned, and succeeded in command. June 7 of this year he purchased the home-lot of Thomas Leffingwell and wife, Mary. In 1723 he purchased the homestead of his brother's (Ebenezer's) heirs. In 1723, when the plantation was incorporated into a town, Mr. Field was elected one of the first selectmen. In 1724 the governor directed the forts at Northfield to be examined and repaired at once. By March 5 the Zechariah Field fort and mount were finished. The mounts were square towers, from fourteen to twenty feet high, fitted up for a sentry. Zechariah Field was sergeant in Captain Dwight's company in 1725. It often had engagements with the Indians on the frontier. The total amount of pay and subsistence of this company from May 19 to November 16 was œ1,139 4s. 5d. Part of the time the company was at Fort Dummer.

In 1729, in a rate for defraying the town and county charges levied on the polls and real and personal estates, Zechariah Field paid the third largest tax in a list of nearly fifty.

In 1731, in a division of lots, Ensign Field chose on lot below the first Beer's mountain, and the other on the plain, against and above Little Meadow. The latter was laid out 160 rods long by 10 rods wide.

In 1743 Zechariah Field was captain of the Northfield company in Col. John Stoddard's Hampshire regiment of militia. This year the town voted to build four mounts, one at Captain Field's. His house was brick lined, and better for protection on this account.

Captain Field was selectman 1721-33-38-39-40-41-42.

In October, 1672, the territory known by the Indian name of Squakheag, now the town of Northfield, was granted to certain individuals living mostly in Northampton. The grant was a township equal to six miles square, not to exceed eight miles in length. The condition of the grant was that twenty families should settle within eighteen months. The General Court appointed Lieut. Wm. Clark, Wm. Holton, Lieut. Samuel Smith, Cornet Wm. Allys, and Isaac Graves a committee to lay out the plantation, and superintend the concerns of the proprietors, and it was enjoined upon them to lay out a farm of 300 acres of upland and meadow, for the use of the country, and to settle a minister so soon as twenty families should be gathered. The plantation was laid out the following year, as follows: "Beginning at a brook called Natanis, at the lower end of a meadow Nattahameongom, or Natanis (now Bennett's meadow), and running up the river eight miles, and extending three-fourths of a mile from the river on the west side, and three miles and three-fourths of a mile on the east side." On September 9, 1673, a part of this territory, with a large additional tract on the west of the river, was purchased of the Indians. Soon after this, and during that year, several settlers from Northampton, Hadley and Hatfield, came in, and built several houses, one of which was fortified.

Northfield settlement took place during the inception of King Philip's war. The story of the Indian murders in Squakheag, the slaughter of Captain Beers and his men on their way to that settlement, and the forsaking of the plantation, has been fully told.

It was not until after the passage of several years succeeding the conclusion of Philip's war, that the proprietors moved for a new settlement. In 1782, the survivors of the original committee, and others, petitioned the General Court that the limits of the Squakheag grant might be extended, so as to bound southerly on Stony, or Four-mile brook. Their petition was granted on condition that forty families should settle in the town within three years; and as some of the committee had died, a new committee was appointed to take their place. In 1684 the village was laid out upon the same ground, and in the same form, as it now exists. The lots were laid out twenty rods in width, and a reservation was made for highways ten rods in width, through and across the village. In 1685, a number of families returned to the plantation, built a few houses, and erected a block house. At a meeting of the committee the same year, lots were granted to thirty-two persons, and it was ordered that every person who had sixty acres of interval land should settle two inhabitants upon it. It was agreed also that all the proprietors should be on their lands, with their families, on or before May 10, 1686, or forfeit their grants. Deeds of all the territory and much besides seem to have been given by certain Indians after this.

The settlement went on prosperously for a year or two, when, in 1689, came on King William's war. The settlers saw that their strength was small, that their situation was the most northern in the colony, and thus peculiarly exposed to the incursions of the French and Indians from the north; and burying their most valuable goods in a well, a few rods south-easterly of the present meeting house, they left their dwellings tenantless, and with their wives and children, fled to Hadley. This withdrawal was destined to be a long one. Queen Anne's war followed soon, and it was not until February, 1713, that, in accordance with a petition to the General Court, of Joseph Parsons, John Lyman and others, the Squakheag grant was revived. The act appointed Samuel Partridge, John Pynchon (the second), Samuel Porter, John Stoddard and Henry Dwight, a committee to determine on the rights of claimants, under the old grant, and to join them with others, preference being given in all cases to the descendants of the original planters and grantees. The committee were empowered to make their allotments, and required to reserve 250 acres of land to be at the disposition of the government. The grant was based on the provision that forty families should be settled within three years, and that they procure and settle a learned and orthodox minister, "the town to be named Northfield," and to "lye to the County of Hampshire." On April 14, 1714, sixteen persons appeared before the committee and proved their claims in the right of their ancestors, and three in their own rights, and entered into articles of agreement.---end of excerpt from "Field Genealogy"
[]

DEERFIELD, MASSACHUSETTS

Deerfield was settled by English families who moved west from Dedham, MA, in 1669 seeking good farmland and a new life beyond the Massachusetts Bay Colony. Deerfield was then the northernmost British outpost in what is now called New England. Strategically situated in the Connecticut River Valley of Massachusetts, the tiny community was attacked three times during the Indian raids, the last and most famous is known as "The Deerfield Massacre" [The Deerfield Raid] of February 29, 1704. On that winter night Canadian Indians and their French allies destroyed Deerfield, killing 49 and marching more than 100 residents on snowshoes to a settlement near Montreal. This single event in Deerfield history, nearly 300 years ago, has been immortalized in books, prints and paintings and it remains the cornerstone of the community's resolve never to forget its past. Deerfield was resettled in 1707 and has been continually populated ever since. Tourists began coming to Deerfield as early as 1720 to see the site of the Massacre. The mile long street that was settled in 1669 is now a part of the Old Deerfield National Historic Landmark.---www.historic-deerfield.org
[]

FORMING THE HADLEY EAST PRECINCT

The petition was granted Dec. 31, and the precinct was bounded as they desired. They were to build a meeting house and settle a learned orthodox minister in three years; and they might tax non-resident lands, not belonging to the old precinct, two pence an acre for six years, to support the ministry.

The first meeting of the "third or east precinct" of Hadley, having been warned by Ebenezer Kellogg, was held at the house of Zechariah Field Oct. 8. 1735. They chose Samuel Hawley, Moderator; John Nash, Clerk; John Ingram, Sr., Samuel Boltwood and Samuel Hawley, committee to call meetings; Ebenezer Dickinson, Aaron Smith and John Nash, Assessors; Ebenezer Kellogg, Collector. The precinct voted to hire a minister half a year; and to build a meeting house 45 by 35 feet, "to be covered, with quarter-boards of spruce,"(??) and to cover the roof with spruce shingles, 21 inches long and without sap; and to set the house up the hill, east of John Nash's house.

Nov. 25, 1735, they voted to set the meeting house near the Hartling Stake, so called. In December, they altered the place again. Nov. 14, 1738, they voted to set the meeting house in the place first designated, viz., on the hill east of the house of John Nash. Dec. 15, 173 8, they voted to Thomas Temple oe 9….

(*)The petitions and names were not found in the State House. It appeared that John
Ingram was at the head of the first petition, and Zechariah Field of the second.
(+)The 2 3/4 miles in width must be intended for the average width. The north line was
less, and the south line more than 2 3/4 miles.
??By "quarter boards of spruce," they intended clapboards of white pine, probably split
and shaved. Their spruce shingles were of white pine.
---"History of Hadley, MA" page 404
[]


>>>>>CONTINUED AT MORE NOTES FOR ZECHARIAH FIELD>>>>>

More About Capt. Zechariah Field:
Civic 1: 15 Jan 1722/23, 1st Selectman for Northfield, MA
Civic 2: 1715, Appointed Surveyor of highways
Civic 3: 1716, Appointed Fence Viewer
Civic 4: 1721, Selectman for Northfield, MA
Civic 5: 1733, Selectman for Northfield, MA
Civic 6: Bet. 1738 - 1742, Selectman for Northfield, MA
Civic 7: Bet. 1739 - 1741, Town Treasurer for Northfield, MA
Letter: Apr 1733, Zechariah Field to Gov. Jona Belcher
Migration 1: 1710, Hatfield, MA, to Deerfield, MA
Migration 2: 1717, Deerfield, MA, to Northfield, MA
Military 1: Dec 1717, Ensign and later, lieutenant, of Miltia
Military 2: Served at Ft. Dummer
Military 3: Feb 1703/04, defended against the Deerfield Raid
Military 4: 29 Feb 1703/04, Served in the Meadow Fight
Military 5: 1724, Mount constructed on premises to guard against Indians
Military 6: 1725, Sergeant of Militia
Military 7: 1743, Captain of Militia
Occupation: 1718, Built mills on Miller's Brook
Property 1: 1739, Purchased 100 acres at Little Meadow
Property 2: 07 Jun 1717, Purchased home lot of Thomas Leffingwell
Property 3: 1720, Purchased 30, 000 acres from Pompanoot for L12.
Property 4: 1723, Purchased homestead of his brother's heirs (Ebenezer)
Property 5: 1724, Finished the house on the Northfield, MA, lot
Property 6: 1729, Purchased Field Farm for L550.
Property 7: 1733, Athol court granted 800 acres
Property 8: 1733, Largest landholder in Northfield, MA
Roll Of Honor: French & Indian Wars
Settled: 1739, Among the original 29 settlers of Hadley, MA381
  Notes for Sarah Mattoon:
ONE OF DEERFIELD'S ROMANCES -- LOVE STORY TWO CENTURIES OLD.

"Of The Sack Of Deerfield By The Indians In 1704, Of The Captivity Of Sarah
Matoon, Of Her Two Lovers, And Of Her Return Years After."
[Written by Mary Field for the 'Sunday, Springfield, Mass., Republican, December 3, 1899.]

Summary of article:

In February, 1704, Deerfield, MA, was sacked by Indians and several Anglos were taken captive, including Sarah Mattoon. She was 17 and engaged to Matthew Clesson, although, she was in love with Zechariah Field. The night before the attack, Zechariah attempted to influence Sarah to change her mind and marry him instead. However, Sarah felt that she had given her word and should stand behind it, especially since Matthew Clesson was such an honorable person himself. Many were killed and many were taken captive in the Sack of Deerfield and a battle was fought at Turners Falls in an unsuccessful attempt at rescuing the captives. The captives were taken to the Indians' homeland in Canada. Many died in captivity and there are many stories about individuals who successfully made their way back home after years in bondage.

Sarah remained a prisoner for five years when on 6/9/1709, she made her escape by river on a canoe, barely reaching Quebec ahead of her pursuing Indian captors. As a result of the ordeal and poor health, it took many months for her to recover at a convent, tended to by the sisters there. After two years in Quebec, Sarah returned home and was met on the road into town by Zechariah. They rekindled their old feelings for each other and Zechariah gave her the sad news that Matthew had been killed by Indians on 6/9/1709, the same day on which she had made her escape. Zechariah and Matthew had been best friends and he had arranged for an appropriate marker for Matthew's grave.

Sarah and Zechariah married and raised ten children.---"Field Genealogy" page 144
[]

FROM "NEW ENGLAND CAPTIVES CARRIED TO CANADA"

Sarah was taken captive in the Deerfield Raid of 1704. She returned home and married Zechariah Field in 1711.

CAPTIVITY

It is interesting to note that many captives freely chose to stay with their captors in Canada. At this time the struggle between the Catholic Church and the Church of England was intense. There were jesuit missions and nunnerys along the St. Lawrence River and in Quebec.

While some Native American tribes sided with the British, it seems that most allied with the French and the French Jesuits were somewhat successful in converting these Americans to the Catholic Religion and in teaching them to speak French. ---RCM

The raids on the anglo settlements were carried out by French as well as Native American forces and the intent was to inflict harm against the Anglo enemy, but, also to take the most likely prisoners back to Quebec to be held for ransom or redeeming. Some of the French who were more prominent, bought captives to live with them and even work in their households or businesses. While there, these "benefactors" would make all attempts to teach the Roman Catholic Religion and the French language.

Eventually, some were ransomed, some were exchanged for prisoners held by the Anglos, some escaped, and some chose to stay with the Native Americans. Perhaps this glowing Puritan lifestyle was not so fulfilling to all who had to bear that life.---RCM
[]

FROM THE LIBRARY OF CONGRESS
Raid of Deerfield, Massachusetts in Queen Anne's War January 1, 1704
http://www.americaslibrary.gov/pages/jb_0229_deerfld_3.html

The colonists in the tiny frontier settlement of Deerfield, Massachusetts in 1704 were aware of surrounding danger. The French and British were fighting Queen Anne's War for control of the continent. Deerfield, under British rule, was in danger of attack by the French. As a precaution, the town folk stayed within the town's palisade, a tall wooden fence enclosing the area. But they did not expect an attack in the middle of winter. On February 29, 1704, between 200 and 300 French soldiers and their Native American allies surprised and raided Deerfield. The results for the townspeople were disastrous.

Deerfield quickly fell to its invaders. Fifty-six English men, women, and children were killed and more than 100 residents were driven on a forced march through heavy snows to Canada. Deerfield's minister, the Reverend John Williams, his wife and five children, were among the captives. Twenty-one of the prisoners died along the way. Mrs. Williams was one of them. The minister, however, survived the trip. After more than a year as a prisoner of war, he and 60 other captives returned to Massachusetts. But some stayed, joining either Native American or French society.

Reverend Williams memorialized his Canadian experience in a book, The Redeemed Captive Returning to Zion, first printed in 1707. In it, he tells his story and that of his family and parishioners. Although four of his children returned home with him, his daughter, Eunice Williams, remained in Canada, joining the Mohawk tribe. She took the name A'ongote, which means "She (was) taken and placed (as a member of their tribe)," and in early 1713, she married a Native American man. In 1713, Queen Anne's War ended. France and England did not do battle in America again until the French and Indian War of 1754. The people of Deerfield could rebuild their town and, for a while, rest easy.
[]

GENFORUM
Posted By: Adele Just
Subject: Re: "Sir John Field - Tudor Astronomer"
Post Date: May 30, 2000 at 21:40:19
Message URL: http://www.genforum.com/field/messages/701.html
Forum: Field Family Genealogy Forum
Forum URL: http://www.genforum.com/field/
...I descend from Zechariah's son Samuel who was involved in a battle called Turner's Falls. He ws wounded, his intestines began spilling from his body, but he was amazingly cared for by a surgeon and survived for a number of years until he was killed by an Indian while working in his field.

I descend from Samuel's son, Zechariah, who was at Deerfield and later Northfield, MA, where he became a wealthy landowner and person of prominence. He married a young woman named Sarah Mattoon (descended from Hubrejcht Mattoon who was probably a Huegenot) who was living with her family in Deerfield at the time of the Deerfield Massacre on February 29, 1704, when the village was attacked in the night by a band of Abenaki Indians from Canada under a French military leader. Nearly 50 people were killed, and well over 100 people were captured and marched to Canada. Numbers of them were killed when they could not keep up. Deerfield was a small village out on the far western frontier of Massachusetts, and the families there were well intermarried. I lost a number of relatives on that night, including a brother of Sarah Mattoon and his entire family. Sarah Mattoon was a captive for five years until she took a canoe and paddled to the St. Lawrence River and then to Quebec. She stayed at the Ursuline Convent in Quebec for two years until she was redeemed by the Boston authorities. Upon her return to Deerfield, she and the younger Zechariah Field were married. They had a large family at Northfield, MA.
[]

More About Sarah Mattoon:
Historical 1: Bet. 1704 - 1709, Held captive by Indians for 5 years near Quebec382
Historical 2: Feb 1703/04, Taken captive by Indians in the Deerfield Raid382,383
Historical 3: 09 Jun 1709, Escape from the Indians to Quebec384
Historical 4: May 1711, Return home to Deerfield, MA384

Marriage Notes for Zechariah Field and Sarah Mattoon:
"FIELD GENEALOGY"
Frederick Clifton Pierce
page 144

NEWSPAPER ARTICLE; DECEMBER 3, 1899

ONE OF DEERFIELD'S ROMANCES. -LOVE STORY TWO CENTURIES OLD OF THE SACK OF DEERFIELD BY THE INDIANS IN 1704. OF THE CAPTIVITY OF SARAH MATTOON, OF HER TWO LOVERS, AND OF HER RETURN YEARS AFTER.
(Written by Mary Field for the Sunday, Springfield, Mass., Republican, December 3, 1899)

[ Note: It is not known how the witer of this article knew so many details about the story. It being an important chapter in the life of any family, tradition was no doubt passed through the generations by word of mouth. This article was written as a newspaper article but it may appear to have been dressed up a bit and formed into something like a screenplay: all of the important factual events are included and some interjection of likely dialogue and poetic license taken by the writer. Even so, it is still a very interesting window into the times of these people, their lives and their environment.

It was February, 17O4. The snow-clad hills that encircled the frontier town of Deerfield stood peacefully and solemnly looking down on the broad valley. Sarah Mattoon, a girl of seventeen summers, had climbed to the top of a low foot-hill near to her father's house, and stood looking over the settlement as it lay shining in the snow. How she loved the winter with its sparkle and cold, its delicate, tender beauty! Surely heaven and earth were never more beautiful than to-night.

Nor was Sarah less than beautiful with her glowing color and deep brown eyes, clad in her simple homespun gown and hood. After a long stint of spinning she had escaped for a few minutes' run over the crust. Shunning the village street, she sped through the home lot to the apple trees on the slope. She sought vainly to find relief from the weight of perplexity and pain that grew and grew within her as she spun. It was but two days since she had promised Matthew Clesson to be his wife, and already those two days were an eternity, -and more terrible. To-morrow he would return from Northampton. and she must meet him. How could she meet him? How could she bear his distress and pain? Dear, good, gentle Matthew, whom she loved so much-yet not enough.

"I can never, never explain it in this wide, dreary world!" How dreary and lonely the world seemed to Sarah on a sudden. The sun was setting in the midst of rising clouds, and the wind grew colder. An oppressive sense of real or fancied danger came over her. Was it so? Were there savages lurking behind those faroff hills, or nearer, close at band? She was rash to have come so far from the settlement, but misery knows no fear. And danger? What was danger to her woe?

But she drew her cloak about her and hurried home, entering the long, low livingroom, lit by the glowing wood fire. How the firelight flickered and danced over the brown boards of the walls and floor, gleaming on the great rafters overhead and projecting a cozy home-like glow on all it touched! It was supper time, and Sarah was soon busily stirring the bubbling kettle of hominy that hung over the coals, then dipping it out into porringers and bowls and helping the children to pour the precious milk from the great blue pitcher brought through so many perils from safer shores. She went on fulfilling one after another the ceaseless round of evening duties, seeing that the boys brought in great armfuls of wood, brushing up the broad hearth, turning the settle to the fire and tucking the youngest child into the low red cradle in the corner. At length all was settled and secure for the night.

"'Sally," said her mother, as she took up her knitting in the chimney corner, "if ye ain't afeer'd o' the dark ye ken go and tell Rebecca I'll be up and help her in the mornin' wi' the weaving. Ye ken stay the night, too, if ye like, and mind to assist Rebecca if ye do. She's frail, poor thing. It's hard on Philip. I allus told him-".

Here Sarah interrupted: "I'll go right off, mother, 'twill be dark soon. Goodnight, mother."

And glad to get out again, she undid the great door and stepped forth. She paused a moment on the broad door stone to look at the sky. The stars were few and faint and the rising wind was from the south and chill, and full of eerie whisperings. The bare branches of the trees tossed and creaked in the wind, darkly silhouetted against snow and sky. As Sarah went on a tall figure met her.

" Sarah!" - "Zechariah!" There was silence for a moment until the girl said, sharply, "Zechariah Field, what do you here?"

"Nay, Sarah, be not so hard. Verily, the fiercest foe is easier met than you in anger. Yet why be angry? I did but pause an instant to cheer my loneliness with the chinks of light between the shutters of your home. Do you know what it is to have no home? Nay, do not interrupt me. Where are you going? I care not. Surely heaven sent you forth to me, waiting so long for speech with you. Do not turn away, why be unkind to me? May I not ask you once in all these weary months why you avoid all friendliness with me? 'Tis strange. 'Tis past all my experience of God's mercies that you should so rebuff me. I, who loved you from the hour I met you yonder on the hill slope as I found my way hither up the great river and across the mountain. Do you recall it, Sarah, that spring day? The sweet pink flowers I'd gathered pleased you then. You were so kind, courteous, yet homelike as a sister in gentleness and spirit. Was it nought to you, that meeting?"

Seeking to detain her, the young man seized Sarah's hand. He found her trembling like a slender aspen, and drawing her arm within his led her to the next home lot, where a new house was rising, and made her sit upon a great felled tree.

"I must not, I must not"' she protested, striving to go.

"No, Sarah-no, you shall not go, you must hear me. The times are ominous and fearful. Who knows what moment we may be set upon, slaughtered, or widely separated? No, dear heart, do not shudder so; all things are bearable, but two things help to make them so: the love of God and love of you. Ah, if you love me, Sarah, what is life or death?"

But Sarah drew herself deep in her cloak and dropped her head upon her knees and shook with sobs, yet spoke no word.

Zechariah bent over her. "And, Sarah, if it be not so; if you have no love in your heart for me, nor ever had, nor will have, say so; tell me. I can bear it, and (heaven help me) love you still. Ah, is it so? Is my dream with all its miracle of sweetness but a dream and not the blest rejection of some deeper bond? Sarah tell me, tell me truly Arm me with desperation, if not with love."

But no sound broke the silence of the night, save the swaying branches overhead rustling in the wind.

"Look up, Sarah, speak to me! just one, word."

In vain she strove to speak, she rose to her feet struggling to overcome her emotion, but Zechariah drew her to him and soothed and hushed her like a little child, until at last she freed herself and said resolutely:-

"No, Zechariah, no-I have no right to let you love me. I have told Matthew I would be his wife."

Zechariah started with a low cry. "Sarah, Sarah"' -he turned away, but again returned to her,

"And do you love him, Sarah? 1 will be silent if you tell, me that."

Her breath came quick; without looking up she repeated: "I have told Matthew I would be his wife."

She turned to go, but Zechariah seized her hand.

"You must not go, you shall not leave me so. Your words are arrows, but your voice trembles and breaks with tenderness--for whom? For what? Oh, is it not for me! Think, Speak' I shall be loving you always and ever, and will you not give me one little word of kindness or of pity?"

Sarah burst into tears "Pity-pity. Oh, Zechariah 'tis I who need your pity! May God help us! My life must be a desert and a waste, with but one gleam of brightness far away--that you have loved me-grudge it not to me, I will be worthy of it if I live; now I must go."

But Zechariah clasped his arms firmly about her. "Not so, Sarah, 'tis not so. You are not Matthew's, you are mine. You love me-'tis all I ask. No power in heaven or earth should part us. I may be poor and Matthew rich, but-"

Sarah stopped him.

"Oh, Zechariah, you cannot think it that; you do not. Blest were captivity with you to all that England's safest, stateliest home could be without you; oh, my love!"

She clung to Zechariah now and her story came bursting forth like some pentup mountain brook whose splash arid foam and hurrying eddies bide its onward course. so overwrought with tears was her tale.

"Oh, Zechariah, when you came two years ago, upon that day-but, no-I cannot speak of that-heaven opened with your eyes meeting mine. I loved you from that moment, and I soon knew I loved you, but that you should love me seemed as far away as the blue sky above me. So I strove against it, and rebelled; it may be in that struggle I was rude to you."

"Indeed you were," he broke in; "a wild rose set with thorns I found you, but I loved you all the same."

"Then," Sarah went on, "you drew to Betty, beautiful Betty. We were inseparable, Betty and 1-1 see it now-but then I did not dream but that 'twas she you sought. I was so miserable, so unhappy, and Matthew all along was kind, too kind to me, though truth to tell, I think 'twas Betty be first loved."

"Aye, verily," Zechariah interrupted angrily," and Mistress Betty, not so shy as you, saw through it all. 'Twas not so difficult for her to blind your eyes, to throw you and Matthew together, and tale the hand held out to you. Ah, but she did forget that I had eyes and that, though they might see the beauty and bloom of the stately damsel. it was the sweet shy rose they dwelt upon."

"Yet she loved you," Sarah went on. "Her whole mind was set upon you, that I knew full well. Ali, what an endless struggle did I have to keep my patience and to curb my tongue. Once-once long ago, it flashed over me that it was me you loved. How that brief flash illumined all my sky and yet I would not, could not, heed it or believe it. When shall we learn to listen to those deep-hidden messages? Meanwhile, confusion grew among us, Matthew, Betty. you and me; and but one word was plain-to promise ', Matthew I would be his wife, making his happiness, helping hers, and perhaps yours; nor did I fancy- my misery could he greater till 'twas done two days ago, since when I have known but torture and slow death -would it were death indeed!"

Sarah became silent; Zechariah, deep in thought, did not speak for many minutes. At length he said--

"And can you marry Matthew feeling so? Can you-" she interrupted him. Nay, Zechariah, nay. I cannot. I but wait his coming to tell him so. I told him I did not, could not love him as I should, as I wished, but he said it mattered not to him; it would come by and by! But no, no, I should hate him were I wed to him. I'll do him no such wrong,-dear, gentle soul! But, Zechariah, how can I be yours? Surely, not now."

"But, dearest, we can wait," he whispered. "Aye, verily, I can live for many a weary day glad in the thought that you have loved me all these years, and you, will love me still?"

Sarah could not speak, she suffered him to draw her to him and kiss her solemnly, -"sealing this," he said, "our love for future time."

The curfew was ringing and they hurried reluctantly to the stockade. and Zechariah left Sarah at her brother's door.

It was late before Sarah slept, but at length, youth and health conquered the tumult of thought within her. Her rest was brief. Horrible sounds awoke her, screams of terror, blood-curdling howls, rang in her ears; a fierce red glare lit up the blackness of night and shone into the low-raftered attic where she slept. She sprang up, trembling, yet resolute. Rushing downstairs she roused her brother:-

" Philip! Philip! the Indians-the Indians' Give me your gun! I'll hold the door a moment while you fly with Rebecca and the babe."

But as she spoke the heavy door was battered down and a wild horde of Indians entered. Seizing Philip, despite his desperate resistance, they bound him, also Sarah; then turning to Philip's wife and seeing her unfit for the journey they instantly tomahawked her before her husband's very eyes and their little child likewise. Plundering the house of all they coveted, they set it on fire, dragging Sarah and Philip away to a neighboring house where they gathered men, women and children bound and captive.

Here, wild with grief and terror, helpless to aid or alarm, they were forced to witness slaughter and ruin until their hideous captors, satiated and fearful of further delay, summoned them to march unwillingly forth out into the wilderness of snow and ice. Desolate, desperate, scarcely knowing who was living and who dead, they were driven mercilessly onward in the cheerless gray of the morning.

Vainly did Sarah search the long, straggling band of captives for Zechariah's erect, fine figure. He was not among them. For a moment she rejoiced, then came a deadly fear that he was slain; and thus, torn between hope and despair, yet sustained by invincible courage, she struggled on. When Philip, maddened beyond endurance, became so unmanageable that the Indians murdered him, poor Sarah sank down beside him, ready to share his fate, but the appeal of '. Mary Field, Zechariah's uncle's wife, to help her to carry her little son of three years, roused her once more; and with greatest exertions she succeeded in carrying him until her savage master, moved by her indomitable pluck, took pity on her and put the child upon the sledges.

From Mary Sarah learned of the brave fight Zechariah and his uncle had made to save her and the children, escaping only at the last minute, and sallying forth from the fort after the departing enemy, following them persistently and perilously till summoned back to the defense of the remaining few. Sarah learned, too, of the safety of her own family. Thankful beyond measure, Sarah strove to comfort the poor mother whose baby had been ruthlessly torn from her, and thus cheering each other as best they could they journeyed on; now many. now few, meeting and parting some to meet no more. Over the frozen river, along whose icy tracks they moved swiftly, over desolate wooded mountains, through forest and fastness for 30() miles they struggled on. Near the end of the journey Sarah fell in with Betty Hurst, -beautiful Betty, already learning to banter a few French words with the young Canadians, amusing and subduing her captors with her playful and vain childishness. She greeted Sarah eagerly and soon began talking of Zechariah and Matthew, contrasting them with the gay young Frenchmen.

This was too much for Sarah. Matthew took possession of her. Was it for this freakish, flippant child she had sacrificed her love and bound herself to Matthew? For, stern Puritan that Sarah was, she felt herself bound still to Matthew. How painfully she longed to tell him of her mistake that she might conscientiously love Zechariah . And now a new terror came over her, Matthew would proclaim her his at home. Indeed, be might venture forth to redeem her. Now despair succeeded to wrath; she heard Betty's hopeful chatter of home-going, but vaguely, distantly -to go home would be to face a more fearful dilemma than now confronted her.

Thus torn and tossed by miserable thoughts, too rigid to accept any easier view of her curious relations to Matthew, Sarah was led to hide herself among the Indians of the tribe who took her, refusing to avail herself of any chance of exchange or redemption, and becoming gradually an Indian in dress and manners, she acquired much of their self-control and dignity, and grew strong in the free outdoor life and often outdid the squaws in wildwood accomplishments.

For five years she dwelt among the Indians, alone and lonely. It chanced one June day at the end of this time that she sat a little apart from the other women, mending a net on the shore of the broad St. Lawrence. The day was cloudless and still. Suddenly a great white river bird rose up from the reeds of the shore and hung for a moment poised over the water close to Sarah. She looked up, startled, and then, entranced by his beauty, she watched his flight upward into the shimmering, shining blue, and as he rose up, up, up into the glorious sky, she sprang to her feet, exclaiming:-

"Home-home! I must go home!"

As if a weight were lifted from her heart, the rushing river, the rising bird, seemed to inspire her. All in one moment she saw the pity of her fate, the desolate years to come, afar from kith and kin, alone among savages.

Her eyes were opened anew to the beauty and gladness of the world The net she was mending dropped from her hand, catching as it fell on wild rose bushes which she now saw encircled the spot where she had been sitting. The blushing blossoms looking up to her brought sweetest memories. Without an instant's pause she sprang to her canoe, and seizing the paddle pushed out and sped away out on to the breast of the great, friendly river. She would trust to its throbbing current and her own strong arm to bear her to Quebec.

Once in Quebec she would be safe from pursuit, and but one day's journey should bring her there.

So on and on she went, fearful yet brave, revolving many things in her mind as the paddle dipped and slipped to the water. In after years Sarah never dwelt upon this journey in recounting her adventures. Too much suspense and strain were crowded into those few hours of incessant labor and fear. When at last the great, crown-like city appeared far away in the mists of the morning, joy almost overcame all Sarah's precautions, and, ceasing to paddle, she was lost in relief and delight. But chancing to glance behind her, she beheld, to her horror, four wellguided canoes just coming into view way up the river. Redoubling every effort and keeping close to the yet dusky shores, she succeeded in reaching the landing before she was perceived. As she jumped from her canoe her pursuers discovered her, and a wild yell rose from them, but friendly Canadians surrounded her and she was soon safely hidden in the convent's shelter. And here, worn out in mind and body. she lay ill of a fever for weeks and months. When Sarah at length slowly recovered she knew no way to show her gratitude to the good sisters but to remain and serve them. and so nearly two years elapsed from the time of her sudden flight before all negotiations were ended and she really embarked for home.

With what strangely mingled feeling did she travel homeward, the only Deerfield captive now returning. Landing at Boston she journeyed to Northampton with a train of wagons bearing goods to the settlements, only one wagon and its convoy continuing up the river to Hatfield and Deerfield.

The long May day was drawing to a close as they left Northampton. The slanting rays of the sun fell softly on the valley and crept gently up the eastern hills. Familiar outlines came in sight, familiar song birds filled the evening air. A joy so deep as to be painful came over Sarah; she was wrapt in contemplation and emotion, and heeded not the approach of a horseman until she heard a voice that sent the warm blood rushing to her heart, ask eagerly, "Does Mistress Sarah Mattoon journey with you?"

A moment later Sarah was helped from the heavy wagon and trembling like a leaf was mounted behind Zechariah. His strong gray horse bore them swiftly forward, leaving the wagon lumbering along in the distance. As the woods shut them from view Zechariah turned and kissed her, looking deep into her eyes.

"Sarah! my Sarah! God be praised!"

And Sarah could not speak, she clung to him, and for many minutes they journeyed on in silence.

At length, as if to emphasize his thankfulness, Zechariah said: "And, Sarah, until one month ago we all believed you dead." He paused and then resumed. "Not one word or trace of you could be obtained in all these seven years. In vain did Ensign Sheldon search for you. You were reported dead when he was first in Canada, and on his second visit no news at all seemed truly to verify the tale, and yet we marveled greatly that he could gain no certain news. Night after night have I pondered over this, ill satisfied and restless, often rising from a sleepless night determined to seek you afar off through the forest. Scarce could the elders keep us from the quest. How was it, Sarah? How did those barbarous, bloodthirsty creatures so conceal you?"

Alas for Sarah, she could not meet his eye; she turned her face away full of remorse for his long years of suffering.

"Ah, Zechariah, blame them not. 'Twas I whose cowardice kept me prisoner there. "

He started and looked strangely at Sarah. She went on: "You cannot comprehend it? Oh, my love! -A great weight lay upon my heart. I Was Still bound to Matthew by my word, yet all my heart was yours, and as each day deepened my love for you so seemed to strengthen the dreaded bond to him, and this it was that kept me in the wigwams of the Indians. Can you forgive me, Zechariah?"

He clasped her hand tighter and she continued "There came a day when suddenly courage came to me. 'My heart said all I would be well and I arose and turned me homeward unto you."

Again she looked into his face and once more the joy of meeting silenced all words, all thought.

The sun had set and the young moon hung brilliant in the clear western sky dipping downward to the dark horizon. To the north rose the great red rock of the Lequamps, rising abruptly in the midst of the wide valley. Here they left the Connecticut and entered the Pocumtuck valley. As they rode on Sarah told Zechariah of her life with the Indians, of the terrible winter march to Canada, of Betty Hurst and her approaching marriage to a young Canadian, of her own long illnesses and the strange homeward voyage. Again and again she strove to ask for Matthew, and again and again her courage failed, and it was not until they were nearing the settlement that she finally asked faintly: "And Matthew-what of Matthew?"

Very quietly Zechariah pointed to the low bank above the meadows where -,he village dead lay sleeping.

"He lies tbere-killed by the Indians."

And turning his horse from the highway he rode thither. No word was spoken. The familiar path, the nestling village beneath the hill, the warm presence of Zechariah filled Sarah's heart with keenest joy, yet the thought of 'Matthew overcame all these, and as they dismounted and entered the burying-ground her tears were failing like a soft, warm rain on a gloomy October day. As they stood beside the long, low mound, Zechariah said -gently:-

"He loved you, Sarah, to the end, deeply and generously. Through all those anxious years we were the best of friends, and, strange to say, the common bond of loving you bound us together."

"And did he know?" asked Sarah wonderingly.

"He knew that I loved you-not that you loved me."

Sarah stopped to trace the letters on the low headstone, brushing aside a wild rosebush which grew beside it.

"Zechariah," she whispered:-"You planted this-"

"I did," he assented. "'Twas all I had to give."

Then by the moon's light Sarah read:-

"MATTHEW CLESSON.
Aged 30.
Killed by ye Indians June 9, 1709."

"June 9," she repeated. "June 9?" She started to her feet with a cry: "Zechariah! It was June 9 that I left the Indians,-June 9 of 1709 that I turned homeward, home to you."

Again Sarah saw the majestic river, the vivid Canadian sunlight, and the great white bird vanishing into the sky. Again the thrill of her joy and freedom came over her. She turned to Zechariah. He, too, was gazing into the sky as if he saw a vision. Long they stood there, silent, wondering. Trembling, Sarah laid her hand upon his arm. At her touch he drew her to him and folded her to his breast,
saying with awed voice:-

"He sent you! Oh, my love! He sent you home to me!"

A deeper, holier joy was added to them, a greater peace fell upon them; the long years of pain and separation were as naught, and life was glad and good and love was ever new."---see "Field Genealogy" pages 144-150
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Indian Attacks

July 8, 1707, "John Bunker & Ichabod Rawlins (both of Dover) going with a cart from Zech: Fields Gar: to James Bunkers for a Loom were assailed by many Indians & both slain. The enemy (supposed 20 or 30 in num.) slaughtered many cattel for the Jones's (at same time) to the number of 15 or more."
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More About Zechariah Field and Sarah Mattoon:
Marriage: 31 Dec 1711, Deerfield, MA
     
Children of Zechariah Field and Sarah Mattoon are:
  i.   More Notes Zechariah Field, died Unknown.
  Notes for More Notes Zechariah Field:
THE DEERFIELD RAID

Material from New England Society: War and Society in Colonial Deerfield, Richard I. Melvoin, 1989 http://www.crossmyt.com/hc/gen/deerfild.

Introduction: Three dramatic battles leap out of the celebrated past of an isolated little colonial village in western Massachusetts. ...

[1664: Mohawk Indians defeat the Pocumtuck tribe. 1675: Indians attack the English settlement of Pocumtuck, as part of "King Philip's War"] ... Almost three decades have passed and "Pocumtuck" is no more. But a new village has arisen on the old site. Shunning the former Indian name, the English settlers now call the place Deerfield. By 1704 the town has grown to 260 people. The size of the town suggests stability. Yet like its predecessors Deerfield lies alone and exposed on the frontier. There are still no English settlements west of Deerfield for fifty miles, until one reaches the Hudson River and New York. Nor are there English towns north of Deerfield at all. To the east, too, lie forty miles of wilderness.

As in 1664 and 1675, the late summer of 1703 has been a time of great anxiety. Activities of late spring have once again brought forth these fears. In May, early in the conflict known as Queen Anne's War, New York governor Lord Cornbury sent word that French soldiers and allied Indians from Canada were heading for Deerfield and the Connecticut valley. As of September a stressful summer has passed peacefully. Then in October, a small Indian force strikes, capturing two Deerfield men. Tensions heighten; the town strengthens its fortifications; the Massachusetts General Court sends soldiers to help protect the town. As of December, though, all is quiet. The cold and snow of winter now promise further respite, for in 1704 wars are not fought in the depths of winter.

But now the quiet of the winter is about to be shattered. Two hours before dawn on the fateful leap-year morning of February 29, 1704, Deerfield's inhabitants lie asleep inside the town's palisade. Because the Indian threat remains, all the town's residents, including the twenty Massachusetts soldiers just arrived from Boston, sleep in the dozen houses inside the fort. The other thirty or so houses outside the palisade lie empty. A watchman is assigned to patrol the town through the night. In the pre-dawn hours, however, he proves unfaithful to his duty. That breach of faith soon proves fatal.

Two miles north of town, just across the Deerfield River, lies a military force of two hundred to three hundred French and Indians. These men have traveled close to three hundred miles to reach this spot. Now they are ready to attack. Silently they cross the river and traverse two miles of open farmland toward the sleeping town. They are able to move quietly, for deep snow dampens all sound. Winter aids them in another way as well. Heavy drifts have piled snow against the walls of the fort, drifts so high that the attackers can easily scale the walls. Without a night watch to contend with, the warriors quickly move inside. The signal comes -- a cry rings out -- and the attack begins.

Although the townspeople fight back bravely, the French and Indian force is too strong and their advantage too great. Even the reinforcements who charge up from Hadley and Hatfield cannot turn the tide. At battle's end, the survivors grimly assess the town's losses. Fifty-six English men, women, and children lie dead; another 109 have been captured. In all, three-fifths of the town's people are gone. Almost half the houses have been burned.

Unlike the villages of 1664 and 1675, Deerfield is not abandoned this time around, but only because the region's military commander will not allow it. As it is, the town barely clings to life. It is years before survival is assured.

These three events have given Deerfield much fame over the years. The town gained immediate notoriety throughout New England after the events of both 1675 and 1704. That fame grew after 1707 when Deerfield's minister, the Reverend John Williams, published his view of the events of 1704 in The Redeemed Captive Returning to Zion. One part jeremiad and one part gripping captivity narrative, the book proved to be an eighteenth century "best-seller," going through six editions before 1800. The story of 1704 received still wider attention late in the nineteenth century when Francis Parkman made "The Sack of Deerfield" a chapter in his volume Half Century of Conflict.

The significance of these events has proven less clear than their fame. There was nothing vitally strategic about Pocumtuck or Deerfield in 1664, 1675, or 1704. Deerfield never proved particularly important after all the attacks ended, either. By 1750 it was simply an increasingly prosperous little farm town. By the 1800s it had become a sleepy rural village that the industrial revolution passed by.

Yet the stories that spin out of this place form a rich tapestry of early New England life. There are stories about the Indians who lived there, the lives they led and the problems they faced; about English settlers striving to build a town; about the inexorable destruction of the Indian natives of New England; about the decades English settlers lived under the almost constant threat of war; about the difficulties of frontier existence; about the complex relationships among different European and Indian forces, in trade and politics as well as in war; about violence and death. Deerfield was not "typical" -- its drama and violence hardly make it representative of "the New England town." But the events and actions and people that make it special can tell us much of what early New England was all about. The tapestry that emerges has a unique pattern; yet the strands that form it could be found in many different places throughout early America.
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Tales from Old Deerfield -- Notes by James Nohl Churchyard, 12 May 1995
Where, What, When

Deerfield lies about halfway between Boston and Albany -- 95 miles east of Albany, 80 miles west of Boston, 230 miles south of Montreal -- all straight line distances.

Three different massacres occurred here.

Mohawks destroyed the Pocumtuck village in 1664

Indians destroyed the white settlement in 1675 (King Philip's War)

French and Indians burned much of the town, killed many, and took captives back to Canada.

Other than being at the edge of settlement, the town never had any strategic significance or any wealth. Indeed, taxes paid by other towns were forgiven Deerfield.

Tales of Some Captives [The first several families are shown on the genealogical chart below.]

John Catlin and wife Mary (Baldwin) Catlin

No family suffered more than his in the destruction of the town on 29 February 1704. He was killed trying to defend their house. Their sons Joseph and Jonathan were also killed. Their married daughters Mary French and Elizabeth Corse were killed during the subsequent march to Canada.

Mary (Baldwin) Catlin, "being held with the other prisoners in John Sheldon's house, gave a cup of water to a young French officer who was dying. He was perhaps a brother of Hertel de Rouville. May it not have been gratitude for this act that she was left behind when the order came to march? She died of grief a few weeks later."

Elizabeth Catlin Corse

She was the daughter of John and Mary (Baldwin) Catlin. She married James Corse about 1690; he died in May 1696. She was taken with the captives but killed on the way by the Indians. Her son, James Corse, went to Canada in 1730 to try to bring his sister home, without success.

Elisabeth (Corse) Dumontet, Monette

Daughter of James and Elizabeth (Catlin) Corse, born in Deerfield on 6 February 1696. So she was just 8 when she was carried away captive to Canada. She was baptized a Catholic on 14 July 1705. In the next year, aged ten, she asked to become a citizen. In 1712, at La Prairie, she married Jean Dumontet, a man aged about 53. After a marriage of almost seventeen years her first husband died.

Elisabeth must have been an attractive widow for in less than a year (1730) she married a man Younger than herself -- Pierre Monet. His younger brother in 1732 married her oldest daughter. After an eventful life she passed away at the age of 70 and was buried on 30 January 1766 at La Prairie.

John and Ruth Catlin

John Catlin (born 8 January 1687) and his sister Ruth (born 1684?) survived the rigors of the trip to Canada and back. According to tradition, Ruth was a delicate girl, yet equal to the journey. When she was tired of a burden she would throw it back as far as possible. Her brother feared that the Indians might kill her, but they laughed and went back for it. They acted as though she were a great lady. When others were hungry she had plenty and gave food to John. The same tradition says that he spent his two years of captivity with a priest, who was unable to convert him, but who supplied him with money and necessary articles when they parted.

He was redeemed in 1706 and then she was redeemed in 1707. He returned to Deerfield, married and fathered a numerous progeny.

Thomas French's Family

He was blacksmith, town clerk and deacon. He and all his family were taken. His house was not burned, so the town records were saved. His wife was Mary Catlin, daughter of John and Mary (Baldwin) Catlin. They were married 18 October 1683. She was killed on the trip on 9 March 1703/4. He and their two eldest children were redeemed in 1706. He married again and died in 1733.

Two of their daughters who stayed in Canada married and had large families. The third daughter assimilated into the Indians at Kahnawake. One great-grandson was Archbishop Octave Plessis, who was the ranking churchman to champion the Catholic viewpoint to the British government in the first decades of the 1800's. That the Church survived is largely due to his efforts.

Joseph Kellogg

He was the son of Martin and Sarah (Dickinson / Lane). The mother was not captured, but the father and four children were carried away, a fifth child killed.

Joseph was twelve and seems to have unusual experiences, for he says "I travelled two & fro amongst the French and Indians" learning "the French language as well as those of all the tribes of Indians I traded with, and Mohawks, & had got into a very good way of business: So as to get Considerable of monies ... & handsomely to support myself & was under no restraint at all."

He was perhaps the first New Englander to see the Mississippi River. In 1715 he returned. Always thereafter his skills were called on. He died in 1756 at Schenectady while on the expedition against Oswego.

His brother Martin Kellogg returned as did the youngest sister Rebecca. Joanna Kellog, aged 11 in 1704, married an Indian at Caughnawaga. There is a record of her visiting her brother Martin in CT.

The Stebbins Family

John Stebbins, his wife, Dorothy, and their six children were all captured. Not one was killed, probably because daughter Abigail had married Jean de Noyon, a French coureur de bois, living in Deerfield, on 3 February 1704 -- 26 days before the fatal attack. John and son John Jr. were redeemed -- the rest of the children stayed in Canada, became Catholic and were naturalized. Apparently Jean had promised a better situation to his bride than he mastered, for in 1708 his wife petitioned for permission to take a mortgage to buy land in her own name to support her numerous family. Her siblings are poorly documented, but marriages for some of them are on record and the name Stebbins, in various spellings, is in the Montreal directory.

The Williams Family

Rev. John Williams, a Harvard graduate, was installed as minister in Deerfield in 1686. A year later he married Eunice Mather, a member of the widespread Puritan ecclesiastical family. He was a special target for captivity, as the Boston authorities held Jean-Baptiste Guyon whom the Canadians wanted returned. His memoir of the events is the famed The Redeemed Captive Returning to Zion, first printed in 1707 and reprinted continually thereafter.

Their two little children and a negro woman were killed in the assault. He, his wife, five children, and a negro man were taken. The eldest child alone was spared -- he was away at school. His wife, having had the baby but a few weeks before, was very weak. On the second day of the journey north they said their farewells, and were separated. She fell down while wading a small river and "was plunged over head and ears in the water; after which she travelled not far, for the cruel and bloodthirsty savage slew her with his hatchet." But what else could be done on a forced march through the winter snows?

His party took seven weeks to reach Fort Chambly. During his captivity he was constantly pressured to convert to catholicism, but ignored all blandishments. He encouraged his fellow captives as much as possible. He was redeemed, along with about 60 other captives, and arrived in Boston on 21 November 1706 with great joy.

Four of their children were redeemed and returned to New England, one continuing in the ministry. The one that remained was the subject of endless communications between New England, Albany, and Montreal. She was Eunice Williams, who lived in Caughnawaga. She received the Mohawk name A'ongote, which means "She (was) taken and placed (as a member of their tribe)." In early 1713 she married an Indian named Arosen. They had at least three children, two daughters and a son. Both daughters married Indian men, one of whom became the grand chief of the village, the other also a prominent figure. The fact that the daughters married so well indicates that Eunice was held in high esteem in her adoptive tribe.

A study of the known facts about Eunice has recently been published under the apposite title The Unredeemed Captive.

Mehuman Hinsdale

He was the first white child born in Pocumtuck / Deerfield in 1673. His father, grandfather, and two Hindsdale uncles were killed at Bloody Brook. His only child was killed in the 1704 attack; he and his wife marched to Canada with the rest of the captives. In 1706 they were redeemed, but then in April, 1709, he was again "captivated" and forced to run the gauntlet. After the war he was sent to France, then exchanged to London, and returned to Rhode Island, whence he got home in safety.

Statistics:

The following is a rough tally of those who experienced the 1704 massacre and the march to Canada.

starting population...283
Killed on 29 Feb 1704 in town...39
meadow fight...2 (+7 more but not from Dfld)
total killed...41
left at home...130 (+10 garrison soldiers)
taken on march...112
died along way...21
arrived in Canada...91
mortality on the way started died survived
infants < 2 4 3 1
children 3 to 12 35 4 31
teenagers 21 21
adult women 26 10 16
adult men 26 4 22
st 112 21 91
[]

  ii.   Seth Field, Sr, born 28 Sep 1712 in Northfield, MA; died 03 May 1792 in Northfield, MA; married Susannah Doolittle; died Unknown.
  Notes for Seth Field, Sr:
GENFORUM
Posted By: Adele Just
Subject: Re: "Sir John Field - Tudor Astronomer"
Post Date: May 30, 2000 at 21:40:19
Message URL: http://www.genforum.com/field/messages/701.html
Forum: Field Family Genealogy Forum
Forum URL: http://www.genforum.com/field/
... I descend from their son, Seth Field, who served at a very young age in the Revolutionary War and who later studied at Dartmouth Medical College and practiced medicine. I descend from a daughter of Seth Field and Martha Hitchcock whose Keyes (both Solomon) grandfather and great-grandfather both were killed in Indian battles. If you saw the film "Last of the Mohicans," it depicts one of those battles. The fort surrendered to a large Fench and Indian force, and, after the British (we were then British) left the confines of the fort, the Indians began killing the people once they were outside. Hundreds were killed. An interesting fact about that incident is that the Indians took the possessions in the fort, some of which had belonged to people sick with smallpox. This was a confederation of Indians from as far west as the Mississippi River Valley, and many villages in the interior of the country were infected with smallpox. I have read that there were about 600 people killed in the French and Indian wars, and I believe that well over 60 and perhaps as many as 100 of my people were killed during those years, including both collateral and allied families.
[]

  More About Seth Field, Sr:
Education: 1732, graduated Yale
Occupation: schoolteacher
Political 1: head of the Committee of Correspondence during the American Revolution
Political 2: Justice of the peace
  iii.   Sarah Field, born 04 Nov 1713 in Deerfield, MA; died 23 Apr 1722.
  iv.   Catherine Field, born 11 Feb 1714/15 in Deerfield, MA; died Unknown; married Capt. Simon Willard; born Abt. 1709 in Lancaster, MA; died Unknown.
  72 v.   Gaius Field, Sr, born 02 Apr 1716 in Old Field Farm, Northfield, Deerfield, MA; died Aft. 1790 in Winchester, NH; married Sarah Holton.
  vi.   Dr. Ebenezer Field, born 11 Jun 1717 in Deerfield, MA; died 09 Apr 1757 in Northfield, MA; married Abigail Holton 1743; born 14 Aug 1720; died 09 Jun 1801.
  More About Ebenezer Field and Abigail Holton:
Marriage: 1743
  vii.   Samuel Field, born 06 Jul 1719 in Deerfield, MA; died 17 Jun 1789 in Northfield, MA; married Abigail Field 1745; born 1722 in Sunderland, MA; died 02 Nov 1803.
  More About Samuel Field and Abigail Field:
Marriage: 1745
  viii.   Deacon Paul Field, born 23 Jan 1720/21 in Deerfield, MA; died 20 Jun 1778; married Christian Hubbard; born 17 Dec 1733 in Sunderland, MA; died 06 Nov 1795.
  ix.   Silas Field, born 04 Jul 1722 in Deerfield, MA; died 23 Sep 1722.
  x.   Rufus Field, born 10 Apr 1724 in Deerfield, MA; died 19 Sep 1724.
  xi.   Zechariah Field, born 22 Jul 1726 in Deerfield, MA; died 13 Sep 1726.

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