Wednesday, October 31, 2018

Weathervane Wednesday ~ A Golden Seagull

I post another in a series of weather vane photographs every Wednesday.  This started with images of weathervanes from the Londonderry, New Hampshire area, but now I've found interesting weather vanes all across New England and across the globe.  Sometimes my weather vanes are whimsical, or historical, but all are interesting.  Often my readers tip me off to some very unique or unusual weathervanes, too!  If you know a great weather vane near you, let me know if you'd like to have it featured on this blog.

Today's weather vane was photographed in New Hampshire.

Do you know the location of weathervane post #387?  Scroll down to find the answer.

This gilded seagull weathervane was photographed above the cupola of the Seabrook town hall at the intersection of Main Street and Lafayette road, in the middle of the rotary on US Route 1.  The town hall does not appear to be very old. in the 2013 Seabrook Town report I found a description on the inside cover of the August 16th ceremony when town gathered to  "witness the intallation of the new golden seagull weathervane created by Seabrook coppersmith, Don Felix.  The original weathervane was damaged beyond repair more than 3 years prior during a huge storm in February 2010."

Also in this document on page 21 as part of the Selectmen's report "In early 2010, due to a horrific wind storm, the Town Hall's seagull weathervane was knocked down.  This year, after much hard work by the weathervane selection committee, in August of 2013, with much fanfare, the weathervane was reinstalled at the town hall building... Thanks to the fire department, as well for their help during the installation of this weathervane."

As Seabrook is a coastal community, I think the seagull is a very appropriate choice for a weathervane.  This is a large gilded weathervane right in the middle of Route 1, so it is very visible to travelers and tourists.  It makes a great symbol for the town of Seabrook, and I noticed that it is featured on the home page of the town government website: 

Click here to see the entire collection of Weathervane Wednesday posts!


Heather Wilkinson Rojo, "Weathervane Wednesday ~ A Golden Seagull", Nutfield Genealogy, posted October 31, 2018, ( accessed [access date]). 

Tuesday, October 30, 2018

Tombstone Tuesday ~ Mary Ingalls and Daniel Bray, buried at Salem, Massachusetts

This tombstone was photographed at Burying Point in Salem, Massachusetts

In Memory of
widow of Mr. Daniel Bray
Ob. Sep. 28, 1805
Aged 68 Years

Depart my friends, dry up your tears,
Here I must be 'till Christ appears.
Death is a debt to nature due,
I've paid the debt and so must you.

In Memory of
Ob. June 24, 1798
Aged 63 Years.

Daniel Bray, son of Benjamin Bray and Hannah Lander, was born 17 July 1736 in Salem, Massachusetts and died 24 June 1798.  He married Mary Ingalls, daughter of Ephraim Ingalls and Hannah Manning, on 15 May 1760.  She was baptized at the First Church on 28 Jan 1737 in Salem, and died 28 September 1805.  They had seven children:  Mary, Elizabeth, Hannah, Sally, Abigail, Daniel and Benjamin.

Capt. Daniel Bray was a master-mariner.  According to the compiled genealogy The Driver Family, page 261 "He lived in Salem, Mass. on Brown Street, near the corner of Newbury Street, in a house built there by himself... After the death of Capt. Daniel his descendants inhabited the same house for many years, it being called the Bray homestead."  This house is still standing today, built in 1766.

Daniel Bray is my 1st cousin, 8 generations removed.  His grandparents, Robert Bray (died 1694) and Christian Collins, are my 8th great grandparents.  Mary Ingalls is also a distant cousin to me, our common ancestors are the immigrants Edmund Ingalls (1586 - 1648) and his wife Ann Trip, my 9th great grandparents.

Click here for my BRAY lineage: 

Click here for my INGALLS lineage:  


Heather Wilkinson Rojo, "Tombstone Tuesday ~ Mary Ingalls and Daniel Bray, buried at Salem, Massachusetts", Nutfield Genealogy, posted October 30, 2018, ( accessed [access date]).

Monday, October 29, 2018

The Shapley Line - One of the old borders between New Hampshire and Massachusetts

Based on the 1640 southern boundary of
Bachiler’s farm, it was surveyed by Capt.
Nicholas Shapley in 1657, dividing the Province
Of New Hampshire from the Massachusetts Bay
Colony 1689 – 1741.  In 1662 three Quaker women,
Being banished from the territory, were freed
South of here by Constable Walter Barefoot.
Edward Gove, imprisoned in the Tower of
London for leading the rebellion against
Lt. Gov. Cranfield in 1683, lived nearby.

This roadside marker on the corner of Rt. 1 and Rocks Road in Seabrook, New Hampshire has always intrigued me because it mentions the BATCHELDER and GOVE families.  I’ve blogged about both families.  I’m a descendant of the founder of Hampton, New Hampshire Reverend Stephen Batchelder, and my god-father is a descendant of Edward Gove. You can read about the BATCHELDER family HERE (and HERE for all my BATCHELDER stories) , and you can read about Edward Gove HERE.

In The History of the Town of Hampton, New Hampshire, Volume 1, by Joseph Dow, on pages 135 – 136, is the story of the Shapley line.  This excerpt is from the New Hampshire Provincial Papers, Volume 1, page 231:

“The bounds between the two Townes menconed toward the sea is [are] to be upon a straight line beginning at the middle of the Hampton Rivers mouth and Runing upwards to a marked tree being and standing at the uppermost corner of the farm commonly called Mr. Bachiler’s farme – the sayd line to Runne upon a west north west point of the compasse nearest, and the said lyne being so Runne by both Townes & marked out according as Capt. Shapleigh hath now draune the plat, wee Agree upon consideration of all pleas, that the Towne of Salisbury shall have and enjoy thirty acres of marsh on the north side of the said line towards Hampton at the lower end of the said line to be layd out by both Townes and Adjoyning to the line; Also for the upper line into the woods, wee determine that the line shall runne from the marked tree before mentioned upon a west and by North line nearest according as Captaine Shapleigh hath given in the line of the treading of Meremack River, the which wee conclude to be the bounds between the said Townes unto their utmost extent towards Haverill; wee doe further declare that what marsh the Towne of Salisbury hath laid out to any of theire Inhabitants, that shall fall within the lyne above menconed towards Hampton, they shall enjoy and so much more shall make up the whole thirty acres, to be laid out belowe proprieties, if there to be found, or els above, Joyning to the line, and this wee give as our determination in the busines to us committed concerning the prmises.
Witnes our hands this 3d day of the five mo: 1657
John Appleton
Joseph Medcalf
Wm Bartholemew
Dan. Pearse”

At the time Joseph Dow published The History of The Town of Hampton in 1892, the bound rock [marking the middle of the Hampton River] and the Bachiler tree were still standing “all points are clearly identified to this day.”  [page 137].  Today these markers are both gone or moved.

I’m not sure which member of the Rev. Stephen Batchelder’s family is the “Mr. Bachiler” in the sign.  It could be the good Reverend himself.  I’m also not sure why they through in the story of the Quaker women and Edward Gove on this road sign, either, other than the fact that these incidents related to people who lived nearby.

Nicholas Shapley is often confused with Nicholas Shapleigh, Merchant and Magistrate of Maine.  Nicholas Shapley of Charlestown, Massachusetts was a surveyor.  There is no evidence he was related to the Shapleigh family of the Piscataqua Region.  He lived from 1605 to his death in Charlestown on 15 February 1663.  He left four children – Benjamin, Joseph, Nicholas and Ann AKA Sarah wife of John Fosdick.

On the other hand, Nicholas Shapleigh the magistrate was born in 1617 in Devonshire, England.  He was one of the wealthiest merchants in New England.  He was killed in 1682 when a mast fell off a vessel at the shipyard of John Diamond in Kittery.  The inventory of his estate includes two Irish indentured servants, and “4 Neagers 3 men one woman & one little Neager valued at 90 pound” [York Deeds Vol. V, Fol. 15 – 16].  You can read his will at this link (he had no children, he left his estate to the children of his sister Katherine and brother Alexander):   

My ancestor, Nathan Longfellow (1690 - 1731), who was the constable and tax collector for Hampton, New Hampshire.  He was arrested by the town of Salisbury, Massachusetts for attempting to collect tax money for Hampton from residents of Massachusetts (on the "other" side of the Shapley line). See this blog post for the Surname Saturday LONGFELLOW sketch which mentions this incident about the Shapley Line:  


Heather Wilkinson Rojo, "The Shapley Line - One of the old borders between New Hampshire and Massachusetts", Nutfield Genealogy, posted October 29, 2018, ( accessed [access date]). 

Saturday, October 27, 2018

Surname Saturday ~ PERKINS of Ipswich, Massachusetts

When the ship Lyon sailed for New England in 1630 it had my 10th great grandfather John Perkins on board, along with his wife, Judith, and six of his eight children.  The records of Hilmorton England contain the baptisms of the first six children, and are now in the Shirehall of Warwick, England.  John and Judith Perkins were admitted to the Boston church in 1631 as members 107 and 108.  Their youngest child was baptized in the Boston First church in 1632.

In 1633 he removed from Boston to Ipswich, where he received several grants of land. In 1664 some commissioners were sent to Massachusetts by King Charles I.  Some colonists did not agree with their report back to the King.  Among the 72 men in Ipswich who signed the petition were John Perkins, Jr. and Jacob Perkins (my 9th great grandfather).

Jacob Perkin's sister, Mary, married Thomas Bradbury.  She was tried for witchcraft in 1692 and sentenced to be executed.  Mary Bradbury escaped, was hidden by her family and lived until 20 Dec 1700.  

Estate of John Perkins, Sr. of Ipswich

Essex Probate Docket # 21337

28th of ye first mo called March, 1654.

I John Perkins the elder of Ipswich being at this tyme sick and weake in body yet through the mercy and goodness of the Lord retaining my understanding and memory: doe thus dispose of and bequeath my temporall estate as Followeth.

First. I do give and bequeath unto my eldest sonn John Perkins a foale of my young mare being now with foale if it please the Lord she foale it well also I give and bequeath to my sonn John's two sonnes John and Abraham to each of them one of my yearling heyfers: also I give and bequeath to my son Thomas Perkins one cow and one heyfer also I give and bequeath to his son John Perkins one ewe and to be delivered for his use at the next shearing time also I doe give and bequeath to my daughter Elizabeth Sargent one cow and an heyfer to be to her and her children after her decease as it may please ye Lord they may increase, the proffits or increase to be equally devided amongst the sayde children: also I do give to my daughter Mary Bradbury one cow and one heyfer or a young steere to remain to her and to her children in theyr increase or proffits as it shall please the Lord to bless them and to be equaly devided to ye children: also I doe give and bequeath to my daughter Lidia Bennitt one cow and one heyfer or steere to be equaly devided to her children in theyr increase or proffits after her decease; I doe also give unto my grandchilde Thomas Bradbury one ewe to be sett apart for his use at ye next shearing tyme: also I do give and bequeathe unto my sonn Jacob Perkins my dwelling house together with all the outhowseing and all my landes of one kinde and other together with all improvements thereupon to be his in full possession according to a former covenant after the decease of my wyfe and nott before and so to remaine to him and to his heires forever; all the rest of my estate of one kinde and other I do wholy leave my deare wife Judith Perkins apointing and ordaining my sade wyfe the sole Executrix of this my last will and Testament Desiring my sayde wife to dispose of the cattell above mentioned according to her discresion as they shall prove steeres or heyfers, also to dispose of some of the increase of the sheep to ye children of my sonn Thomas and of my three daughters at the Discresion of my sayde wife and this I doe ordaine as my Last will and Testament subscribed with my own hand this twenty eight day of ye first month 1654.

John Perkins (signed)

Signed in presence of

William Barthomew

Thomas Harris

Proved in court held at Ipswich 27 (7) 1654 by the oath of William Bartholmew and Thomas Harris per me

Robert Lord, cleric

For more PERKINS information:

The Family of John Perkins of Ipswich, Massachusetts by George A. Perkins, 1889

Wildes : The Ancestry of Dudley Wildes, 1759-1820, of Topsfield, Massachusetts, by Walter Goodwin Davis, Portland Maine, The Anthoensen Press 1959, p.75-76.  (This work has the English origins of John Perkins back to 1475)

The Great Migration Begins, by Robert Charles Anderson, Boston: NEHGS, 1995, Volume 3, pages 1431 – 1433.

My PERKINS genealogy:

Generation 1: John Perkins, son of Henry Perkins and Elizabeth Sawbridge, born 23 December 1583 in Hillmorton, Warwickshire, England, died between 28 March and 26 September 1654 in Ipswich, Massachusetts; married on 9 October 1608 in Hillmorton to Judith Gater, daughter of Michael Gater and Isabel Bayley.  She was baptized on 19 March 1589 in Hillmorton, and died after 26 September 1654 in Ipswich, Massachusetts. Eight children. 

Generation 2: Jacob Perkins, baptized on 12 September 1624 in Hillmorton, died 29 January 1700 in Ipswich; married about 1648 to Elizabeth Whipple, daughter of Matthew Whipple and Anne Hawkins. She was born about 1629 in Bocking, Suffolk, England and died 12 February 1685 in Ipswich. Nine children. Jacob married second to Damaris, widow of Nathaniel Robinson.

Generation 3: Jacob Perkins, born 3 August 1662 in Ipswich, died 12 November 1705 in Wells, Maine; married on 25 December 1684 in Ipswich to Elizabeth Sparks, daughter of John Sparks and Mary Roper. She was born about 1666 and died 10 April 1692 in Ipswich. Three children John, Elizabeth and Jacob, Jr. (I descend from Elizabeth and Jacob, Jr.)  Jacob married second to Sarah Treadwell and had five more children.

Lineage A:

Generation 4: Elizabeth Perkins, born 18 March 1691 in Ipswich; married on 2 July 1711 to David Burnham, son of John Burnham and Elizabeth Wells. David was born 20 October 1688 and died 2 February 1770. Five children and I descend from two of them.

Lineage A1:

Generation 5: David Burnham m. Elizabeth Marshall

Generation 6: Amos Burnham m. Sarah Giddings

Generation 7: Judith Burnham m. Joseph Allen

Generation 8: Joseph Allen m. Orpha Andrews

Generation 9: Joseph Gilman Allen m. Sarah Burnham Mears

Generation 10: Joseph Elmer Allen m. Carrie Maude Batchelder

Generation 11: Stanley Elmer Allen m. Gertrude Matilda Hitchings (my grandparents)

Lineage A2:
Generation 5: Westley Burnham m. Deborah Story
Generation 6: Westley Burnham m. Molly Woodbury
Generation 7: Asa Burnham m. Polly Bray
Generation 8: Lydia W. Burnham m. Samuel Mears
Generation 9: Samuel Mears m. Sarah Ann Burnham
Generation 10: Sarah Burnham Mears m. Joseph Gilman Allen (see above)

Lineage B:

Generation 5:  Jacob Perkins, born 15 February 1685 in Ipswich, died 19 May 1770 in Wells, Maine; married on 12 October 1717 in Hampton Falls, New Hampshire to Anna Littlefield, daughter of Joseph Littlefield and Lydia Masters. She was born 28 June 1702 in Wells.  Ten children.

Generation 6: Stephen Perkins, born 1736 in Wells, died 13 May 1818 in Loudon, New Hampshire; married Comfort Chesley, daughter of Jonathan Chesley and Mary Weeks.  She was born about 1735 and died 12 February 1818.  Twelve children.

Generation 7:  Mary Perkins, born about 1771, died between 1845 and 1850 in Chichester, New Hampshire; married in April 1789 in Loudon, New Hampshire to Nathaniel Batchelder, son of Nathaniel Batchelder and Mary Longfellow.  He was born in 1763 in Deerfield, New Hampshire, and died 20 August 1809 in Loudon, New Hampshire. Seven children.

Generation 8:  Jonathan Batchelder m. Nancy Thompson
Generation 9:  George E. Batchelder m. Abigail M. Locke
Generation 10: George E. Batchelder m. Mary Katharine Emerson
Generation 11: Carrie Maude Batchelder m. Joseph Elmer Allen
Generation 12:  Stanley Elmer Allen m. Gertrude Matilda Hitchings (my grandparents)


Heather Wilkinson Rojo, “Surname Saturday ~ PERKINS of Ipswich, Massachusetts”, Nutfield Genealogy, posted October 27, 2018, ( accessed [access date]). 

Friday, October 26, 2018

Jamie Cochran: The Indian Captive, A Poem by Robert Dinsmoor "The Rustic Bard"

This poem is published in honor of Bill West's Tenth Annual Genealogy Poetry Challenge:

Although James Cochran is not my ancestor, this poem is important to me in many ways.  First of all, it honors a family story about one of Londonderry, New Hampshire's founding Scots Irish settlers.  It was also written by Robert Dinsmoor, another one of "Nutfield's" famous sons.  If you don't know about the poet Robert Dinsmoor "The Rustic Bard" please click here for more information.  He was a Scots Irish poet who wrote about life in Windham, New Hampshire, the Scots Irish families, love, and other themes with a distinctly Scots accent.  This story about Jamie Cochran was one I heard about while I was at the Scots Irish Genealogy conference at Bowdoin College this August, because it happened nearby in Brunswick, Maine.  As you know, if you are a regular follower of this blog, Nutfield is preparing to celebrate it's 300th anniversary of the settlement by Scots Irish pioneers.

Please see below the poem for more information on the history and genealogy of James Cochran.

Jamie Cochran: The Indian Captive

Give ear, my friends, and let me here relate
A tale which now appears of ancient date.
The hero of my tale is Indian Jamie,
His history I’ll give lest you should blame me.
In Ulster Province, Erin’s northern strand,
Five shiploads joined to leave that far off land.
They had their ministers to pray and preach,
These twenty families embarked in each.
Here I would note and have it understood,
Those emigrants were not Hibernian blood,
But sturdy Scotsmen true, whose fathers fled
From Argyleshire, where protestants had bled
In days of Stuart Charles and James second,
Where persecution was a virtue reckoned.
They found a shelter on the Irish shore
In Ulster, not a century before.
Four of those ships at Boston harbor landed;
The fifth, by chance, at Casco bay was stranded.
But there those stout old Scotsmen knelt and sang
Jehovah’s praise till sea and desert rang.
There they gave up, in one united prayer,
Themselves and children to th’ Almighty’s care.
In seventeen hundred eighteen, August fourth,
Our ancestors received their freedom’s birth.
Some came to Nutfield, since called Londonderry,
The other chose just where they were to tarry.
And one them was of the Cochran name,
Of so small note, who with those settlers came.
On the main land this father settled down,
This place is now called Brunswick of renown.
From Bowdoin college, a few rods is seen
The caved-n cellar where his house had been.
Where famed McKeen his pupils led,
And by his lore profound made science spread.
The Cochran’s eldest son was James,
But eight years old, which now our notice claim.
When Jamie’s blood had felt the heat
Of sixteen summers, high his pulses beat.
He then from bears could guard his father’s corn,
Armed with his gun, shot-bag, and powder horn.
The howling wolf that he was wont to hear
And catmount made music to his ear.
The sly marauding bear at dead of night
Came like a thief who likes to shun the light;
The thrifty hills he levelled with his paw,
Then stretching down, soon filled his hungry maw.
Jamie discerned the beast, as moping there,
He hobbled off to loiter in his den.
His proper course not far from Jamie led,
Whose gun was leveled at the felon’s head,
Then sprung the lock his father oft had fired;
The shot was fatal, and the thief expired.
As deeds of valor add to courage strength,
So this young hero proved it out at length.
Like that young Hebrew stripling, when he slew
A bear and lion – more courageous grew
And fearless, fought and killed Goliath too.
When stretched upon his bed of straw
He, in his dream, an awful vision saw;
A forest wild, extending far and wide,
Where beasts of all descriptions seek to hide;
And now and then upon his ear there fell
A shriek terrific and a hideous yell.
But all at once, to close the scene,
A fiend, like man of dark and ghastly mien,
Armed with a hatchet, and a knife and gun,
Ten more, armed like him, followed on the run.
Swiftly they sped their way, and passed him by,
But oh! Alas!  He heard an infant cry.
Horror now seized our youth, and in his dream
He surely thought he heard his mother scream.
Her bitter cries he could distinctly hear,
“My Jamie’s lost, my Jamie’s lost, I fear”
At this woke, for all did real seem,
And found the whole a fleeting dream.
Then to their labor all by order went,
But Jamie was on a special errand sent,
O’er hills and fens he ne’er had seen before,
With musket armed and ammunition store;
His mother placed a knapsack on his back,
With things convenient, not a cumbrous pack.
He through the marshes sought his destined creek
Of which he’d heard the Indian hunters speak.
At length he found the little rolling river,
Which, when he forded, scarcely mad him shiver,
And soon Magusit bay began to quiver.
A flock of ducks, through the thick air above,
With whistling wings, all lighted in a cove
Within a short distance, Jamie cocked his gun
And made towards his game upon the run.
His fire was true, and plainly he could tell
Some lay dead, and other wounded fell.
He left his musket on the shore,
His powder horn, shot-bag, and all his store;
With ducks and drakes his knapsack soon was filled,
No matter then , how many he had killed.
With success flushed he turned toward the shore
And lo!  He saw an armed Sagamore
Take up his gun, powder horn, and shot;
Ten Indian warriors stood there on the spot.
Our hero, now advancing near the shore,
Could recognize the ancient Sagamore,
The very phiz he’d often seen before
When hunger drove him to his father’s door.
James reverently approached him from the strand,
Bowed, called him father, offered him his hand,
And humbly as him to give back his gun.
He frowned; “Me no your father, you no be my son.”
In vain he plead, and urged his parent’s sorrow,
Said he’d go back, and come again tomorrow.
“No, me no trust you”, was the short reply,
“You no come back, you white men all will lie.
You shoot our bears, the Indians want their grease,
You shoot our ducks, and carry off our geese;
You kill our moose and deer, no heed our speeches,
Eat up the flesh and wear their skins for breeches;
You take our fish, and carry off our clams;
Indian no cross great water to catch your lambs;
You no be here again, you great pappoose,
To shoot our ducks and carry off our goose,
You be our captive now, yourself the cause,
Your life be forfeit, by our Indian laws;
We take you Canada, and there you sell,
But we no know, your scalp may do as well.”
Our hero, fixed as Indian captives are
Whom they take prisoners in a time of war,
Was placed between two warriors armed as guard,
Who both seemed proud that they his honor shared.
The old grey Sachem, tested with command,
Gave order, “March to Canada”, off hand,
But bade all “steer for the great waterfall,
For at the Wigwam there we all must call,
Who knows but there we’ll all have more English boys
To make us rich and to increase our joys.”
Now Jamie tried his masters to obey,
Nor made the least attempt to run away.
He seemed to place his life in their protection,
And by hypocrisy gained their affection.
As they grew intimate, he seemed contented;
They lived like brothers when they got acquainted.
But, faithful to their charge, kept him in sight,
And made him sleep between them every night.
Such confidence they in their prisoner put,
Hi access had to all within their hut;
To keep their guns and ammunition dry,
He careful was to set or lay them by.
And Jamie’s mind absorbed in deep reflection,
Besought his father’s God for his protection.
And then he thought on his prophetic dream,
Where, ominous, he heard his mother scream;
In desert wild, of all his friends forsaken,
He was the infant that was taken.
Like bees attracted to their wonted hive,
Straight as a line they to their hut arrive.
They gathered sticks and soon struck up a fire,
And fixed the wigwam as they did desire.
But Jamie’s mind on his escape was bent,
That to accomplish was his whole intent.
While here and there the busy Indians run,
They mind him not, till he secures each gun;
And while he did their other weapons hide
He placed a hatchet slyly by his side.
It was his part to give the fire fuel,
Nor did they think that Jamie’s heart was cruel.
What Sachem told him he remembered still,
“We take you Canada, and there you sell,
And we no know, your scalp may do as well.”
“My God,” said Jamie, “must this be my doom
Unless that I an awful act assume?
I am compelled the adage old to try,
‘To desperate cases, desperate means apply’
The hour is come, defenseless now they lie,
The blows I strike must kill them or I died.”
When rising up to give the fatal stroke,
By accident a small dry stick her broke.
And when it snapped, one of the Indians woke,
And asked him, what he wanted.  Jamie said,
“The fire wants fuel”; the stick he on it laid,
Then down he laid as if to rest the better,
The Indian thought that nothing was the matter,
And fell asleep more soundly than before,
And soon they both began to wheeze and snore.
Again he rose while they were sleeping sound,
And at one blow killed on upon the ground;
Then for the other drew a stroke far bolder,
But missed his head, and hit him on the shoulder.
The Indian then arising to his feet
In fearful rage did Jamie’s hatchet meet,
Which soon dispatched him, there he fell
Nor knew not then who hurt him nor could tell.
Our hero then soon left this dire abode
And frantic ran some mile, nor sought a road;
How far he’d gotten from the Indian hut,
He could not tell, as he was light of foot.
His mind, still frenzied, sometimes reasoned well;
He said “I die, sure as those Indians fell,
I cannot live, deprived of all subsistence,
What means have I to keep me in existence:
What have I gained, if I must die of hunger?
I must go back, I’ll think upon’t no longer.
There’s guns and hatchets, and some good provision
Placed in my knapsack, with some ammunition.”
Then back he went, as fast he could go,
And found some light, although the fire was low,
He roused it up. There the two Indians lay;
He scalped them both, and bore their spoil away.
A load for him packed up as Indians do,
And homeward then he did his course pursue.
But a small river running cross his way
Caused him to stop and make a short delay.
Then on the river’s brink he soon espied
A tall slim pine, to which he soon applied
The Indian’s hatchet to its body well,
Full soon the tree across the water fell.
With cautious hands and feet on it he crossed,
But there by chance an Indian gun he lost.
He marked the place it in the water fell,
Went back and got it, some the story tell.
But scarcely had he gotten safely o’er
He saw some Indians on the other shore.
The forest hid him from their savage sight,
And they despaired to catch him in the night.
Soon Jamie found the Androscoggin’s tide,
Which led him, safely as a faithful guide,
To George’s fort, near which his father dwelt,
And oh! What joy to see our hero felt.
But when he hailed it, this poor Scottish boy
Was taken up for an Indian false decoy.
In quest of food, he had no need to roam,
His pack supplied him to his father’s home,
Where his parents mourned as dead their favorite boy.
There they embraced him with ecstatic joy.
Gladly they saw the trophies he had won,
While he returned the knapsack and gun.
The Indian scalps proved Jamie’s victory grand,
As did Goliath’s head in David’s hand.

From Poems of Robert Dismoor “The Rustic Bard”, compiled by Leonard Allison Morrison, 1898, pages 43 – 52. 

James Cochran was born in Northern Ireland.  He is estimated have been between sixteen and eighteen years old when he was captured near Casco Bay, Maine.   He was known for the rest of his life as "Indian Jamie".  He eventually removed to New Hampshire where he lived first at Suncook with his father, and then married and lived in Londonderry.  He is buried at the Forest Hill Cemetery behind the First Parish Meetinghouse in East Derry, New Hampshire.

According to Robert Dinsmoor, there were five Cochran brothers who all had been at the siege of Londonderry in Northern Ireland.  They all came to New England.  Ninian Cochran and James Cochran came to Casco Bay together before coming to Londonderry, New Hampshire.  The other three brothers John, Nathaniel and William Cochran eventually came to New Hampshire, too.  Ninian Cochran was a surveyor, who was killed by being thrown from a horse in Suncook, New Hampshire.  Deacon John Cochran, father of "Indian Jamie" built the first saw and grist mill at Suncook.

James Cochran was the son of Deacon John Cochran and Lillie Kilgore.  He was born about 1713 in Northern Ireland, died 17 February 1795 in Londonderry, New Hampshire.  Jamie married about 1738 in Londonderry to Janet Burns, the daughter of Thomas Burns and Margaret Leslie.  She was born Northern Ireland and died 6 April 1760 in Londonderry, New Hampshire.  They had five children born in Londonderry:
1.       Lt. Joseph Cochran born 17 August 1739 m. Margaret Murray
2.       William Cochran born 28 December 1740 m. Betsy Gile
3.       John Cofran born 28 February 1743 m. Joanna Eliza Gilman
4.       Major James Cochran born 28 February 1743, m. Mary Ann McDaniel
5.       Mary Cochran born 22 January 1745

From The History of Brunswick, Topsham and Harpswell, Maine, by George Augustus Wheeler, 1878, on page 56:

“On “April 13th of that year [1725] two Indians captured a man belonging to the garrison at Maquoit, named James Cochran, about eighteen years of age.  He was on the marshes in pursuit of fowl when he was surprised by the two Indians.  He was pinioned, taken to the carrying place, put in a canoe, and carried up to the Ten-Mile Falls.  There the Indians made their arrangements for the night. A fire was made and supper prepared.  Cochran expected all this time that he would be killed when the savages met some of their companions, and determined, in consequence, to make his escape, if possible.  The second night his bonds were removed, and he was placed between the two Indians to sleep.  Each of the savages slept with his hatchet under his head and his gun by his side.  Cochran feigned sleep, while in reality he watched every movement.  As soon as he found his captors asleep he rose up.  This movement awakened one of them, who seeing their prisoner apparently suffering from cold and endeavoring to warm himself, went to sleep again.  When all was again quiet, Cochran took the hatchet from under the head of the one who had waked, and killed him instantly.  He killed the other as he was getting up.  He then scalped them both, took their guns and hatchets, and went down to the river in great haste, fearing lest he should meet their companions.  In fording a river on the way, he lost a gun and one of the scalps.  When he arrived opposite the fort, he shouted, and a boat was sent across for him.  He narrated his adventure to Captain Gyles, and some men were sent up the river, who found the bodies of the death Indians, and also their canoe, which they brought back.  He was both rewarded for his bravery, and promoted in his rank.”

Also see The Indian Wars of New England, Volume 3, by Herbert Milton Sylvester, 1910, on pages 252 -254:

“Pending these efforts to procure a cessation of the ravages of the Indians, they had begun their work of killing and burning upon opportunity.  It was on April 13, 1725, that a soldier by the name of Cockram was captured by two Indians in the neighborhood of Maquoit Bay, which Sullivan locates some twenty miles north of Cape Elizabeth.  Cockram was only eighteen.  They started off on the march, the first day making a journey of some thirty miles into the wilderness.  They bound Cockram the first night, and, building their fire, lay down to sleep.  The next morning they were again on the march, and when it came night they left him unbound.  They built their fire, and finally lay down to sleep, with Cockram between them.  When they were in deep slumber he managed to get his hand on one of their tomahawks, and, with a cool deliberation, killed his captors.  Stripping them of their scalps, he took their guns and ammunition and made his way to the garrison – bringing, however, but one scalp and one gun, having lost a gun a scalp as he was fording one of the many streams in that part of the country.
                He told his story to Captain Gyles; and so anxious was the garrison to verify it that a party were sent back over the trail with him, and they came upon the two Indians he had killed.  So creditable was the performance that the young man was given an advanced post at the garrison; but whether he received the Provincial bonus for the two scalps is not recorded.”

Click here to see a blog post about James Cochran's tombstone in Derry, New Hampshire:


Heather Wilkinson Rojo, "Jamie Cochran: The Indian Captive, A Poem by Robert Dinsmoor "The Rustic Bard", Nutfield Genealogy, posted October 26, 2018, ( accessed [access date]). 

Wednesday, October 24, 2018

Weathervane Wednesday ~ A Whale of a Weathervane!

I post another in a series of weather vane photographs every Wednesday.  This started with images of weathervanes from the Londonderry, New Hampshire area, but now I've found interesting weather vanes all across New England and across the globe.  Sometimes my weather vanes are whimsical, or historical, but all are interesting.  Often my readers tip me off to some very unique or unusual weathervanes, too!  If you know a great weather vane near you, let me know if you'd like to have it featured on this blog.

Today's weather vane was photographed in New Hampshire.

Do you know the location of weathervane post #386?  Scroll down to find the answer.

This two dimensional weathervane can be seen on the cupola above the Valero gas station on the corner of Ocean Boulevard and NH State Route 286 in Seabrook, New Hampshire.  The whale is a very appropriate choice for this location, just a few blocks from the beach and a short distance from the Blackwater River which forms Hampton Harbor.  From this parking lot you can see the sign for the Salisbury, Massachusetts town/state border.  Although this whale is small and you might miss it, the location has few trees and overhead wires.  The weathervane has a nice patina, and in the closeup view you can even see the features such as the whale's eye and mouth, as well as the tail.

Click here to see the entire collection of Weathervane Wednesday posts!


Heather Wilkinson Rojo, "Weathervane Wednesday ~ A Whale of a Weathervane!", Nutfield Genealogy, posted October 24, 2018, ( accessed [access date]).

Tuesday, October 23, 2018

Tombstone Tuesday ~ LEWIS family plot, Manchester, New Hampshire

This tombstone was photographed at the Piscataquog Cemetery in Manchester, New Hampshire

1831 HENRY LEWIS 1917
1831 HANNAH E. LEWIS 1923
1865   BABY   1865
1866 WALTER H. LEWIS  1937
1869 S. ABBIE LEWIS  1952

1856 FREDERIC H. LEWIS  1898
1881    WALTER ANTON LEWIS   1888
1879  PERCYVAL LEWIS   1949

Henry Lewis, son of Warren Lewis and Mary Dean Morse, was born 7 October 1831 in East Walpole, Massachusetts, died 5 September 1917 in Manchester, New Hampshire; married Hannah Elizabeth Beach, born 1831 in Salisbury, Vermont, died 1923 in Manchester. In 1848 Henry Lewis removed from Walpole, Massachusetts to Hooksett, New Hampshire.  He began to work with the Amoskeag mills and the Manchester Corporation.  He was a Civil War veteran and a 32d degree Mason, Mystic Shriner, Knight Templar, Odd Fellow and a member of the Unitarian Church.  He was a member of Walter Dignam’s 1st Regimental Band during the Civil War. [see pages 193 to 194 of Lewisiana: The Lewis Letter, Volume 16, which was an old newsletter for the Lewis Family Association] 

Three children:
a.       Frederick Henry Lewis, born 1856, died 9 September 1898 in Woburn, Massachusetts; married on 29 August 1878 in Taunton, Massachusetts to Annie Maria Soule, daughter of Leander Soule and Caroline Lucinda Graham, a descendant of George Soule the Mayflower passenger. Teacher at the New England Conservatory of Music.  Children:  Frederick Percyval, born 29 June 1879 in Woburn, Walter Anton Henry born February 1881.

b.       Walter Lewis, born 17 Feb 1865, died 9 May 1865

c.       Walter Lewis, born 31 March 1866, died 1937, graduated from the New England Conservatory of Music in 1890; married on 26 June 1895 in York, Maine to Sarah Abbie Bridges. He was an Independence League candidate for Governor of New Hampshire in 1908.  He wrote operas and music.  He also drew cartoon for the newspapers under the name “Penn” and many occult articles under the name “Zariel”.  Died 1937.  No children.

The sphinx is a neo-Egyptian symbol found in the 20th century.  It was mean to “guard the tomb”, like foo dogs, or lions, which are more common.  It is also a symbol of the Shriners, a subgroup of the Masons.  It represents strength and protection.


Heather Wilkinson Rojo, "Tombstone Tuesday ~  LEWIS family plot, Manchester, New Hampshire", Nutfield Genealogy, posted October 23, 2018, ( accessed [access date]). 

Monday, October 22, 2018

NERCG 2019 - The New England Regional Genealogy Conference April 3 - 6, 2019

At Manchester, New Hampshire 
April 3 - 6, the 15th Annual New England Regional Genealogy Conference  or

Saturday, October 20, 2018

Surname Saturday ~ COX of Boston, Massachusetts

Boston, 1835


My 8th great grandfather, Robert Cox, is a mystery.  I don’t know if he was an immigrant from England, or born in New England.  The first record that mentions him was when he became a freeman in 1666 in Boston, Massachusetts.  He was married around 1670 to a woman known only as Martha (no maiden name has been discovered).  Robert Cox was an innholder and mariner, and lived in the area that is now called Boston’s North End.  Between 1668 and 1679 he was approved to “keep a house of entertainment and sell liquors”. 

The book Old Boston Taverns and Tavern Clubs, by Samuel Adams Drake, 1917 names Robert Cox’s inn as the Mitre.   MITRE, east side of North Street, at the head of Hancock Wharf (Lewis Wharf) between Sun Court and Fleet Street.  The lot of Samuel cole in the Book of Possessions , which he conveys to George Halsey in 1645; Halsey to Nathaniel Patten in 1654, Patten to Robert Cox in 1681, Cox to John Kind, 1683-84; Jane Kind to Thomas Clarke (pewterer), 1705-6; Clarke to John Jefferies, 1730.  His nephew David Jeffries inherits in 1778, from whom it went to Joseph Eckley and wife Sarah (Jeffries).  In 1782 heirs of John Jeffries owned house “formerly the Mitre Tavern”.  In 1798 the house had been taken down.” 

There are many deeds naming property around the North End that Robert Cox leased, mortgaged, and sold.  Some of these deeds name his wife Martha, too.  She was still alive for a transaction on 23 June 1681, but probably died soon after this because by 8 February 1683 he was remarried to a Hester or “Esther”.   You can read a long list of these property transactions in the Inhabitants and Estates of the Town of Boston, 1630 – 1822 (The Thwing Collection) see Cox, Robert Reference Code 17149. 

Robert Cox “the boatman” died 11 November 1684 intestate and named his wife Esther as the adminstrix, but she refused.  William Coleman was appointed administrator of his estate by the court.  The order for distribution of the estate names his three daughters Martha, Mary and Elizabeth as “the only surviving children of the deceased”.  The son John must have died before the estate was settled on 3 October 1690, and Boston records name a John Cox who died 3 July 1690. 

For more information on the COX family see the resources listed above, and also:

The New England Cox Families, by John Hosmer Cox, pages 39 – 40.

New England Marriages to 1700, Volume 1, page 388

My Cox genealogy:

Generation 1:  Robert Cox, died on 11 November 1684 in Boston, Massachusetts; married about 1670 to Martha Unknown, mother of his four children; married before 8 February 1683 to Esther Unknown.

Generation 2:   Mary Cox, born about July 1676 in Boston or Malden, Massachusetts; died 1 April 1723 in Abington, Massachusetts; married on 26 May 1699 in Boston to Benjamin Staples, son of John Staples and Sarah Atkins.  He was born November 1677 in Braintree, Massachusetts and died between 1711 and 1712 in Bridgewater, Massachusetts.  Eight children.

Generation 3:  Silence Staples m. John Everson
Generation 4:  Hannah Everson m. Nathan Weston
Generation 5:  Zadoc Weston m. Mary Clements
Generation 6:  Matilda Weston m. Joseph Edwin Healy
Generation 7:  Mary Etta Healey m. Peter Hoogerzeil
Generation 8:  Florence Etta Hoogerzeil m. Arthur Treadwell Hitchings
Generation 9:  Gertrude Matilda Hitchings m. Stanley Elmer Allen (my grandparents)


Heather Wilkinson Rojo, “Surname Saturday ~ COX of Boston, Massachusetts”, Nutfield Genealogy, posted October 20, 2018, ( accessed [access date]). 

Wednesday, October 17, 2018

Weathervane Wednesday ~ Above City Hall

I post another in a series of weather vane photographs every Wednesday.  This started with images of weathervanes from the Londonderry, New Hampshire area, but now I've found interesting weather vanes all across New England and across the globe.  Sometimes my weather vanes are whimsical, or historical, but all are interesting.  Often my readers tip me off to some very unique or unusual weathervanes, too!  If you know a great weather vane near you, let me know if you'd like to have it featured on this blog.

Today's weather vane was photographed in New Hampshire.

Do you know the location of weathervane post #385?  Scroll down to find the answer.

This banner style weathervane with the fancy finial over it was photographed above the city hall in Dover, New Hampshire.  This building was erected in 1935 at 288 Central Street as part of the Public Works Administration (PWA) during the Great Depression.  The federal grant towards this project was almost $80,000, and the total cost of the municipal building was $302,847.  It was recently renovated, with the first floor becoming a new "Customer Service Center", and restoration of the council chambers upstairs. 

Dover is the oldest town in New Hampshire.  This first permanent settlement by Europeans was known as Cocheco.  You can read all about the early history of Dover at this link: 


Heather Wilkinson Rojo, "Weathervane Wednesday ~ Above City Hall", Nutfield Genealogy,  posted October 17, 2018, ( accessed [access date]). 

Tuesday, October 16, 2018

Tombstone Tuesday ~ Whitefield Gilmore, buried Bedford, New Hampshire 1786

This tombstone was photographed at the Old Burial Ground in Bedford, New Hampshire

Memento Mori
In Memory of
Lieut. Whitefield Gillmor
who departed this life
May ye 12th 1786;
In he 41st year of
his age.

Whitefield Gilmore, son of James Gilmore the Scots Irish Immigrant and his wife, Thankful Tyrrell of Abington, Massachusetts, was born 12 November 1745 in Wrentham or Raynham, Massachusetts.  He removed to Bedford, New Hampshire and married Margaret Gilmore (no relation).  He died 12 May 1786 in Bedford trying to lift a boulder from his field with a lever which struck him with “such force as to cause his death” [Genealogical and Family History of the State of New Hampshire, by E.S. Stearns, 1908] .  He was a veteran of the Revolutionary War, serving in Col. Daniel Moore’s regiment and also attached to Colonel Joshua Wingate’s regiment for service in Canada after Arnold’s unsuccessful attack on Quebec. He was a selectman in the town of Bedford in 1775.

Margaret was born 6 November 1743 and had five children born in Bedford:
1.        Janet, born 26 August 1771
2.       Martha, born 1 January 1773
3.       James, born 15 January 1775, married Ann McAllister
4.       Mary, born 1776, died aged 10 months
    5.     John     


Heather Wilkinson Rojo, "Tombstone Tuesday ~ Whitefield Gilmore, buried Bedford, New Hampshire 1786", Nutfield Genealogy, posted October 16, 2018, ( accessed [access date]).