Portsmouth

By James Polus

Historical fiction comes to New England with the epic novel, "Portsmouth,” a classical saga reliving the story of a 1623 fictitious family and twelve successive generations that bring New England seacoast history to life. The opening scene begins with the Abenaki, the Native Indians, who inhabited the land for thousands of years until the English settlers arrived in 1623 when everything changed! "Portsmouth," the novel, marches through the city's history. Memorable characters interact with real-life personalities and historical events that shaped America. Relive our country's past and the colorful history of the New Hampshire seacoast through "Portsmouth.'' From the early Puritans to the Sons of Liberty and the Revolutionary War, up through the Great Depression and World War II, the novel brings American notables such as George Washington, Ona Judge Staines, Major General Fitz-John Porter, Frank Jones, and Celia Thaxter into the reader's imagination.
The novel "Portsmouth" celebrates the 400th anniversary of the founding of this historic seaport, so reminiscent of colonial times.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Balboa Press
• Release date: Dec 11, 2022
• ISBN: 9798765236987

James Polus

A new author from the seacoast of New Hampshire inspired by the majesty of the ocean and tales of the mysterious and wondrous octopus. Jim Polus graduated from Hobart College and Columbia University and is a retired executive from IBM. An ardent love of cycling on country roads fuels the author’s themes of human purpose and a reverence for nature. Jim’s genre focuses on the interplay of the human spirit and the conflicting challenges of honor and courage in the face of betrayal and treachery.

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Copyright © 2022 James Polus.

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The author of this book does not dispense medical advice or prescribe the use of any technique as a form of treatment for physical, emotional, or medical problems without the advice of a physician, either directly or indirectly. The intent of the author is only to offer information of a general nature to help you in your quest for emotional and spiritual well-being. In the event you use any of the information in this book for yourself, which is your constitutional right, the author and the publisher assume no responsibility for your actions.

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ISBN: 979-8-7652-3697-0 (sc)

ISBN: 979-8-7652-3698-7 (e)

Balboa Press rev. date: 12/09/2022

CONTENTS

Author’s Introduction

Acknowledgements

Chapter 1: Beginnings at Pannaway (1613-1630)

Chapter 2: Purifying Portsmouth (1650-1681)

Chapter 3: Deceptions and Cruelties (1660-1699)

Chapter 4: Transitions (1705)

Chapter 5: Portsmouth (1705-1713)

Chapter 6: Voracious Greed and Entitlement (1745-1760)

Chapter 7: A Matter of Liberty (1765)

Chapter 8: Passions of Liberty (1774)

Chapter 9: Rebellion Breaks out (1775)

Chapter 10: Independence Delirium (1776)

Chapter 11: Reasons to Celebrate (1777)

Chapter 12: Illusions of Freedom (1779-1781)

Chapter 13: Patriotic Perils and Profit of Privateering (1781)

Chapter 14: Let the People Decide (1786-1799)

Chapter 15: War, Christmas Fires, and Tales of Witches (1813-1814)

Chapter 16: Optimism and Panics (1823-1837)

Chapter 17: Portsmouth Clippers (1848-1860)

Chapter 18: The Agony of War (1861-1865)

Chapter 19: The Powerful and the Gifted (1870 – 1890)

Chapter 20: Money, Art, and Politics (1890 -1905)

Chapter 21: Crimes and Eventual Punishment (1911-1913)

Chapter 22: Battles (1917-1920)

Chapter 23: Exuberance of Good Times and Prejudice (1922-1929)

Chapter 24: Depressing Times (1929-1939)

Chapter 25: A Changed City (1940-1945)

Author’s Comment: The Jewels of Portsmouth (2022)

AUTHOR’S INTRODUCTION

Portsmouth is a work of historical fiction. The Turner, Porter, Mullins, and Freeman families are purely fictitious. Any resemblance to historical figures is coincidental.

Every effort has been taken to ensure historical accuracy, but in some cases, I have taken some liberties for the sake of simplicity and reader understanding. For example, I am referring to the Native Indians occupying the surrounding area of Portsmouth, indeed, the larger New Hampshire and Maine coastal area as Abenaki, although they may have thought of themselves in more local terms bearing names such as Piscataqua or Winnecowett.

Historians also refer to the tribal nations of Northern New England as Wabanaki, meaning People of the Dawnland, instrumental in treaty negotiations with the English colonists in 1713.

The Library of Congress refers to the Native Indian representatives to the Portsmouth 1713 negotiations as the Eastern Tribes, saying:

 At the end of the war (Queen Anne’s War), the Eastern Tribes of North American Indians, which had been allied with the French, surrendered to the British. On 13 July 1713, delegates and sachems of the tribes met at Portsmouth, New Hampshire, with representatives of the provinces of Massachusetts Bay and New Hampshire to sign this treaty, which brought temporary peace to the northern frontier following years of violent warfare.

In fact, the actual treaty document uses the expression Eastern Indians although many historians refer to the Native Indians invited to the treaty negotiations as part of the Wabanaki Confederacy. In this work of historical fiction, I defer to the Library of Congress reference of Eastern Tribes in lieu of Wabanaki.

ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS

Writing Portsmouth consumed a prodigious amount of time but would not have been possible without the loving help, endless patience, and selfless assistance of my wife, Noreen.

I also wish to acknowledge my closest friend, Larry Kenna, who served as my editor and advisor. Larry gave endless hours of his time. There can not be any greater friend in life! Larry kept me focused and on task, testing me and driving me to completion.

I am deeply appreciative of both.

CHAPTER 1

BEGINNINGS AT PANNAWAY (1613-1630)

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S UNCOOK STARED AT THE DARTING flames of the campfire, slowly twisting the spit lodged within a small rabbit. His fellow young warriors, proud initiates of the Abenaki warrior society, skillfully maneuvered their small game on similarly long sharp sticks. Words were sparse among them; they had little to say. It would be a long while before they desired true camaraderie. The fiercely independent and tough-minded Abenaki needed young men hardened by warrior rituals. One notable custom concerned the rites of passage into adulthood for boys seeking to gain warrior status. The five-week ordeal may have transformed these promising young men into true warriors, but it crushed any desire for small talk or banter and often left emotional scars for life.

Truthfully, they were not fully recovered from the horrific ordeal. Yes, they were now men, ready for leadership among the chosen warriors, but they had paid a terrible price. Their minds were now cleansed of youth, family ties, and boyhood fantasies. Childish thoughts, fears, and emotional attachments to family slowly evaporated in endless days of starved isolation and drug-induced hallucinations.

The most vaunted, battle-hardened warriors of the tribe led the ordeal. These men had seen the faces of their fierce Mohawk enemies. They understood toughness; they understood the leadership requirements of the Abenaki.

The most experienced battle-hardened warriors of the tribe administered wysoccan, extracted from jimson weed, to the young men over an agonizing twenty-day period. They oversaw the ordeal - days of enforced starvation, days locked in a small hut, days that tested the strength of mind and body. Boys passed into adulthood when they completed the ordeal demonstrating the mental and physical toughness required of warriors. Most importantly, the ordeal purified their minds of family ties. The tribal leaders forced boys who failed the cleansing into a second ordeal - most did not emerge alive from the second set of rites. Those who did survive suffered severe mental and language disabilities.

Suncook did not permit his soul to forget his family. He still remembered his mother wailing and clutching at him as the veteran warriors marched him and his fellow anointed boys into the tribal rites of dance and beatings, which preceded the period of hallucination and deprivation. The fathers stood by dispassionate, prideful that the senior warriors had selected their sons among many to undergo the extreme rituals. Their sons, between the ages of fifteen to seventeen, were the honored ones chosen by the elite senior warriors as worthy of future leadership.

Emotionally distraught mothers mourned for the boys, while the fathers urged the boys to find courage and honor. Everyone understood the need for future leaders to be strong men who cared for the entire tribe, not just a closely-knit clan. Combating formidable, fierce enemies such as the Mohawk required tough leaders, men capable of ferocity, courage, and the ruthlessness needed to defend the entire tribe. Suncook was shrewd enough to hide his family bonds. During the long days and nights, he battled the hypnotic drugs clinging to faint memories of his mother and younger siblings. The image of his father Mannitt, sagamore of the Abenaki, never left his conscious mind.

Following the ordeal, the tribal leaders directed the new warriors to live in the forests together in small groups to reflect on their duty and to refine their hunting and tracking skills. Suncook and his three warrior brothers were deep in the woods. Days passed mainly in silence, but occasionally, discussions of the new challenges of white men allied with the Mohawk marked their conversations. Suncook was the youngest of the group at age fifteen and smallest in build but the quickest and most fleet-footed of his entire tribe. At a young age, Suncook not only excelled in hunting and tracking activities, but he showed a mystical, spiritual personality.

Suncook could fall into trances and recite stories of Gluskab, the creator of all living creatures. Whether the gods had gifted Suncook with a phenomenal memory, or some other earthly explanation did not matter to the tribe. They attributed his extraordinary powers to a divine connection to Gluskab. Mannitt himself did not deny that Gluskab had infused his son with magical powers while still in his mother’s womb. Sons of mighty sagamores touched in the mother’s womb by Gluskab were destined for greatness. But no divine authority would save Suncook from the ordeal; in fact, Mannitt himself vigorously beat his son to prove to the other fathers that no boy deserved special treatment. And, as for Suncook, he could place himself in a trance to soften the blows. Special powers, indeed!

The Abenaki had good reason to believe in Suncook’s magical powers and his unique relationship with Gluskab. When he was seven, he awoke from a trance to warn the inhabitants of his village of the impending invasion by a Mohawk raiding party. The elderly leaders quizzed him for details. He described vividly the visitation - the men with long black hair, sharp piercing black eyes, red-painted foreheads, black-painted eyes, and partially shaved heads with hair knotted in feathers dangling on the back of their necks.

I see many of these men with anger and hateful desire in their spirits. They will arrive here within a few days and will destroy our homes. Suncook’s words shocked the tribal leaders, as the young son of Mannitt had never seen a Mohawk. When you sleep, they attack. You must trap them on the upper slopes of the great mountain ridge.

The entire tribe mobilized for defense. Scouts marked all the paths known only to experienced warriors. And, as predicted, the Abenaki spotted the Mohawk raiding party near the base of the steep ridge to the west. The camouflaged warriors, perfectly obscured in trees and bushes, surprised the Mohawk and routed them, capturing a few for a future barter. The rest fled west back to their territory, dismayed that their stealthy attack on the Abenaki had been foiled.

The people praised Suncook, the child, declaring him a mystic endowed with magical powers. Mannitt never mentioned his son’s predictions or his other uncanny visitations, which regularly turned true. Perhaps, he realized something others did not observe - Suncook had uncanny capabilities to memorize every word of casual discussions he overheard from senior warriors who had faced the Mohawk in battle. Heroic legends abounded. Stories were told and retold. By the time Suncook was six years old, he could faithfully retell the same stories in the exact manner as told by the veteran warriors, now old, retired, and living in memories. But the way Suncook captured the imagination of tribal warriors astonished even Mannitt.

The boy possesses genius. He is extremely gifted with great oratory skills, Mannitt thought.

Suncook also possessed phenomenal hearing capabilities. He glanced up from the fire. Something is wrong, he thought. New sounds competed with the dazzling array of night sounds. Bird calls intensified, the wind shifted in intensity, and the rustling of the bushes sheltered new dangerous noises. The other young men continued with their dinner, but Suncook froze. Intruders are near, he said to himself. The warning of Mohawk! came too late.

Out of the bushes, six Mohawk warriors leaped onto the young Abenaki. Armed with clubs and war axes, the Mohawk raiders favored the round, knotted club to bash the Abenaki into unconsciousness. But the oldest of the Abenaki warriors, quick to pull his knife, turned on the first Mohawk he encountered, deftly slashing the attacker’s neck with a powerful strike. Two other Mohawk countered with their powerful axes, sending the young Abenaki to his appointed time with his ancestors.

Suncook quickly realized that escape was preferential to death or capture. He dashed down the nearest trail, hoping he could outrun the Mohawk. Soon, a striking blow to his head rendered him unconscious; he had run straight into two Mohawk guarding the logical escape route.

The next sensations were morning dew and mist on his face. Consciousness brought the bad news that he was now a captive of the Mohawk. He glanced over to spot two of his Abenaki companions similarly tightly bound with vines and ropes; even walking would be challenging. Then the throbbing pain reminded him of his predicament - injured and captured!

The Mohawk demanded the three captives get up; another blow to their backs sent the message that any resistance was futile. The long march to some unknown destination began. The Mohawk released the bindings around their ankles, but tight vines around their wrists and occasional blows to their backs kept them in line and marching straight ahead. Fast-paced walking, accompanied by steady jogs along secret Mohawk trails, led the pack to an English seaport. Suncook realized the slave trade with the English and Dutch was the prime motivation. They were not the first victims of this heinous trade in humans, but no one knew the fate of the captured Abenaki.

The future looked dim, but he would never relent, never concede to the life of a slave. Death would be preferable, but if Gluskab meant his destiny to end that way, he would certainly share death with his tormentors.

Despite his clairvoyant skills, Suncook could never have imagined how his fate would change in ways previously unknown to his Abenaki peoples. Forces more powerful than the tribal creator, Gluskab, would sweep him into a troubled destiny affecting generations of his people.

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Captain Robert Turner, widely esteemed for exceptional maritime skills and commander of the Intrepid, anxiously searched for the familiar mouth of the Piscataqua River, shelter from the rocky and often stormy coast. Swift, powerful tides shattered any idea of a relaxed entry to the river, which stretched thirteen miles upland to the tiny settlement of Dover.

Yes, he thought, the harbor offers deep passage, but the treacherous tides and the rock-strewn shorelines can smash boats, just as the Abenaki had warned. Even the name Piscataqua meant the water looks dark suggesting hidden spirits and natural dangers.

He remembered his first trip in 1603, fifteen years earlier, as a young ship apprentice when he accompanied Captain Martin Pring aboard the Speedwell in search of commercial fishing grounds. Previous explorers reveled in their descriptions of the abundant supply of fish, especially cod. Captain Pring had no intention of permanently inhabiting the new lands; he was representing English commercial enterprises. Such was the case of all the first European explorers, including the rival French, who explored regions far north of the Piscataqua River.

The native inhabitants, the Abenaki, openly befriended the English visitors seduced by tobacco, tobacco pipes, and even long snake skins used as adornments. Gold was of no value, as they deemed the yellow color distasteful. Captain Turner chuckled, reminiscing back ten years about the two large mastiffs which served as trusted watchdogs for Captain Pring. The mastiffs named Moose and Bear weighed over two hundred pounds and stood nearly a yard high, each sporting a huge head. Strangers could easily agitate both, motivating the dogs to ferocious duty and unleashing their most impressive qualities - courage, loyalty, and a profound sense of protectiveness.

The Abenaki had never witnessed such creatures. Perhaps they understood these mastiffs as wicked creatures sent by Gluskab to menace them. Although Moose was extremely large at 240 pounds, the smaller mastiff, Bear, barely exceeding 200 pounds, roamed around the grounds with a half-pipe club between his teeth. The mere sight of these animals, especially Bear with his pole weapon at the ready, subdued any dangerous intentions that some of the native inhabitants may have conceived. On at least one occasion, Bear and Moose scattered a group of Abenaki men intent on stirring up trouble. It seemed the fierce Abenaki, unafraid of the most ferocious Mohawk, but wishing no entanglement with the mastiffs, retreated in quick fashion upon seeing the two massive creatures headed for them.

Captain Turner’s mission in 1618 was plain enough - drop off twenty men near the Isles of Shoals for the fishing season and return to England with tons of dried cod. Apples, and various varieties of berries, filled sacks for the return trip. Captain Turner noted large strawberry fields near the entrance to the natural harbor.

Indeed, Captain Turner reflected, these lands are truly biblical with a magnificent bounty of fruits, berries, many varieties of fish, animals, especially beavers, and magnificent forests of trees. Tall wide pines adorned the forests - trees ideal for ship masts that were in great demand in England. The only problem was the wickedly cold and treacherous winters. He had seen the Isles of Shoals, deeming them not suitable for a permanent settlement. On the other hand, a small jut of land called Pannaway could suffice for men and women willing to live in these isolated lands and promote the fishing trade.

Then there was the burgeoning trade of slaves to consider. Originally conceived as indentured servants, the English practice hardened into outright ownership. The Portuguese were manning slave ships to Brazil in the early 1500s and were followed in kind by the Dutch, Spanish, French, and, of course, the English. Influenced by Quakers, Captain Turner wanted nothing to do with the slave trade, no matter how profitable!

Heading south to small temporary fishing outposts, he had a chance encounter with Mohawk Indians who saw nothing wrong with trading their vile Abenaki rivals. In fact, three such men were about to board the slave ship to the West Indies when Captain Turner bartered for the release into his custody, the youngest of the boys, named Suncook. For a pistol with only a few rounds of ammunition, Captain Turner purchased Suncook for the long trip back to England.

No doubt, the young man Suncook was a shrewd, quick study showing impressive linguistic talents. Before the ship landed in England, Suncook had mastered the essential elements of English. Within a year, he was completely fluent. But Suncook did not lose his dream of returning home. He missed his forest life, his family, and his tribe. Suncook listened and observed. He toured forts and stately homes. He also saw poverty as something unknown to his people. Suncook did not forget the Mohawk who killed his friend and sent the other two to a hell of slavery. He would not rest until he wreaked revenge on them and secured the freedom of his two brethren. But terrible days lay ahead; not even the magical, mystical genius of Suncook could save his people.

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Why did you buy me from the Mohawk? quizzed Suncook of Captain Turner, nearing the end of the ten-week journey back to England.

Shall I say you looked regal? You looked rather wretched, replied Captain Turner, somewhat in jest. You will soon discover a few of your kind in Plymouth.

Continue. Please explain what you and your English want of us?

Captain Turner paused, ruminating on how honest he could be. There are two reasons. One is a practical matter. Many European nations will try to assert dominion over the new lands. We need allies. Your people should ally with us.

And the second reason? asked Suncook.

The sea captain rubbed his hands, searching his soul for a deeper purpose. He could explain his opposition to slavery, but he was in a tiny minority of English who considered the new land natives as equal in human status. Well, for me personally, I think slavery is a cursed affliction for all of us. I am afraid my countrymen do not share my feelings.

Nor are they shared by the Mohawk or even by many tribes among the Abenaki peoples, added Suncook. Why did you not buy my two warrior brothers from the Mohawk?

I had nothing of value to them. They only wanted guns. I only had my pistol to use as barter. They sold your friends to other English slave traders who, unfortunately, will reap a handsome profit. The bad news is that the Mohawk will start using guns as new, decisive weapons.

Suncook quickly replied, The Abenaki need guns too.

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David Thomson was a daring visionary. Along with Captain Smith and Captain Turner, he had made several trips to the river area called Piscataqua. He had recently signed a five-year agreement to establish financing for a permanent settlement at Pannaway, a small peninsula of land close to the Piscataqua River and suitable for permanent dwellings. Cod huts were already there for the seasonal work of fishing and drying, but now families would, for the first time, live full year-round, making the entire fishing business more efficient.

Most important, Amias Thomson and their son John, age four, joined David in the new world. Captain Turner piloted a second vessel carrying the indentured workers who would pay off their cost of passage with endless hours of work. Among the crew of Captain Turner’s ship was Suncook, returning home to the land of the Abenaki, literally Men of the East. Suncook was now twenty. He had been gone five years.

Standing on the ship’s deck, bored with endless days of sea travel, Suncook’s mind often wandered to musing of his last few years in England. He wondered, Did five years of English life, enjoying the comforts of Plymouth life, ruin him? Was he now soft? Would his tribe even accept him?

He had suffered several English illnesses, some of which nearly took his life. In all those months of comfort, Suncook stayed fit and lean. He avoided most English food and never partook of any local spirits, no matter the occasion. And he ran in the country along the woody paths; he kept his stomach firm, his leg muscles tight. He swore he would return to take his father’s place as sagamore and seek revenge on the Mohawk. Suncook also tried multiple times to learn of his friends, sold as property to English planters in the West Indies. Finally, he heard the news he had been seeking. Suncook learned the location of the two men who were still alive but living in wretched conditions.

One night, he fell into the deep abyss of a terrible dream. He saw the two men in chains, their backs rippling with the scars of plantation cruelty. His friends summoned him, pleading for Suncook to save them. The figure of Kechi, the spirit of good, the god of growth and the giver of prosperity, appeared, beckoning the men to cross the spiritual river; but Machi, the god of evil and bad happenings, trapped them in his muscular arms, preventing their escape. Suncook heard the faint cries of help, but the men, obscured by sickness, pain, and despair, were swallowed into the belly of Machi.

In the five years of Plymouth, England residency, well-intentioned members of the Anglican Church attempted to instruct Suncook in the Christian faith. He met fine people who believed in their religion, but he never faltered from his beliefs. One memorable incident encapsulated his many interactions with the strictest of believers, the Puritans. Mary Williams, among the most devout, was persistent in her conviction that all people could be saved through Puritan preaching. Was it just a coincidence that Mary’s morning stroll coincided with Suncook’s walk after his morning run?

Most conversations smacked of polite and insignificant chatter between acquaintances, but on this morning, Mary pursued the notion that Suncook should heed more serious preaching of the ministers who were bent on saving as many souls as possible, even those of the heathens from the new world.

I would like to introduce you to a young minister who surely can instill in you the truth of your salvation, Mary persisted after Suncook failed to enthusiastically agree to attend the Sunday service. I am sure you will be persuaded by his faith.

Kind Mary, we share similar views regarding the power of spirits. But our spirits live in the mountains and the trees. You have one god, but we see many gods in nature. We find salvation through harmony with our natural world. We do not seek inspiration from religious images and sacred texts; the rushing rivers and the winds instill our spirits.

Flustered, Mary sharply responded, There is only one path to salvation, Suncook, and I fear the devil will ensnare you if you choose to worship animals and birds. Thank you for permitting me to discuss Joseph Sharply, our fine minister. I am sure a moment in his presence will capture your imagination and save your soul.

Suncook wanted to scream aloud. My imagination and my soul belong to me! But choosing the polite approach, Suncook demurred, asking Mary for time to consider her offer. Mary conjured up a slight smile, thinking the first step in her quest to convert Suncook had succeeded. But in his heart, Suncook felt only a mix of anger and resentment; he had to be on his best behavior, as he was still Captain Turner’s slave. Despite everything that Captain Turner had done for him, Suncook deeply resented his situation in England. Anyway, preparations were nearly complete for the voyage back to his homeland. Captain Turner had promised freedom.

Fine, Suncook mused, I will be free to return to my people one way or the other. I know these people and their enemies, the French and Spanish. I will bide my time and select the right opportunity to pick my allies, as the white people will flood our lands like torrents of spring floods.

Suncook’s thoughts returned to religion as he bade farewell to Mary. My religion is the wild nature of the woods and forest, the churning rivers and placid lakes teeming with trout, and the wild seacoasts where lobsters thrive in numbers greater than the stars, and fish, especially cod, swarm in huge pools of life.

Suncook did not need the Christian god; he needed his people. And he needed the gods of the woodlands. He desired the inspiration of Kechi, the true god of goodness. He sought freedom, and he required guns to defend that freedom - for himself and his people!

Suncook’s attention quickly shifted to the approaching rocky shoreline. He had navigated around the promontory countless times in his canoe. He knew every small detail - the salt marshes, the rising and falling tides, the vast array of shellfish, and the treacherous boulders, hidden just beneath the surface at high tide, laid bare when the seawater receded. Trees ringed the coast of the land that Thomson called Pannaway, meaning the place where the water spreads out. The name, borrowed from his language and very descriptive of the natural meeting place of land and sea, was a fishing location for the English. But to him, it was the essence of his life - his home, long inhabited by countless generations of his ancestors who passed down through the millennium stories of massive ice mountains that literally carved the land from the ocean.

Ironically, Captain Turner commented upon the good fortune of David Thomson, who had secured a sub-grant of 6,000 acres, itself part of a massive land grant issued to Captain John Mason, covering much of the area inhabited by the Abenaki. The land patent conveyed to Mason all the land from Salem in the bay colony of Massachusetts far north to the Kennebec River, referred to as the province of Maine. Five years of life in England had provided ample evidence of the arrogance of the English, who deemed the natives as of no consequence to the ownership of the land. John Mason and David Thomson had official papers to back their claims; the Abenaki had thousands of passing winters and summers to mark their claim.

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Amias was not the only woman to undertake the harsh trip to Pannaway. Anna Thomas, daughter of a fervid anticlerical leader who continuously railed against the corruption of the powerful state-controlled church, felt the pull of a different life. She resented the materialistic nature of English society and the dull, mundane religious customs, which seemed divorced from the real world. Anna was different even as a child, a young girl of sensitivity and simple charm. She grew into a beautiful young woman but refused the glamour of English society; she preferred a simple black and white plain pattern of dress. Anna cared nothing about ritualistic prayers or long memorized passages from the Bible. She experienced purpose and morality in her own soul. The inspiration of life did not emanate from scriptures, saints, and holy men. The inner spirit nourished life and purpose. God dwelled within her.

Upon arriving at Pannaway, Captain Turner found many pretexts to converse with Anna. He was unmarried in his own right and had found the women of English society shallow and wanting. He could see that Anna had a deep spirit; that she was a woman of uncommon humanity and morality. Chance encounters led to more serious advances until both found the urge to live and love together irresistible. The common thread was the desire to stay in the new world, in Pannaway or the small enclave called Strawbery Banke, noted for vast fields of berries.

Anna and Robert made the special commitment on a stroll around the rugged rocky seacoast of Pannaway. The sun was seeping into the horizon. Walking hand in hand, the moment of a passionate embrace still awaited them. The tide slowly ebbed away, revealing massive rocks along with the smell of seaweed and ocean life itself. They both stared at the horizon. The energy of togetherness, the excitement of the first kiss, lured their bodies into one. One kiss could not suffice. Passions and deep spiritual energies connected them to each other.

Anna, I would like you to marry me. Knowing you favor the inner spirit over dogmatic church authorities, am I correct in understanding that the union of marriage requires no officiant?

Yes, Robert, that is correct. Witnesses among our friends can sanctify our vows.

Inner peace, strength of love, and silence preceded the wedding vows. Anna and Robert asked David and Amias Thomson to witness their devotion and spiritual commitment. Then they exchanged these simple vows:

In the presence of God and these friends, I, Robert, take you, Anna, to be my wife, promising with divine help to be unto thee a loving, faithful husband so long as we both shall live. And Anna spoke the same simple vows, followed by silence and quiet acknowledgment.

And so it was that Anna Thomas and Robert Turner married and began the legacy that would shape the land of Strawbery Banke for generations. If that was their vision, such illusions would need to wait - they had a mill to build, and no place suited this enterprise better than Strawbery Banke’s steady stream and a small body of water. Plus, the impending war between England and Spain required the construction of a fort on Pannaway, the most strategic land overseeing the vast Piscataqua River harbor. Cannoneers manned the fort, but war never came to New England. If war did not come, neither did the commercial attention of the Laconia and Plymouth Companies. The principals of these trading firms were too busy defending more profitable enterprises, so the small settlement at Pannaway struggled.

David Thomson and his family decided commercial interests in Boston better suited their purpose, so they departed. Robert and Anna Turner remained but moved to Strawbery Banke, where they were early permanent residents. Likewise, other families of Pannaway and the Great Island made the same smart decision as residents because as mere land tenants with no inherent rights, they risked losing their houses in land sales controlled by far-off merchants. In fact, those lands shortly thereafter were sold to the Plymouth land entrepreneurs. Settlers pulled up stakes and flocked to Strawbery Banke, asserting dubious claims of entitlement that would incite legal disputes and tempers for decades to come.

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Suncook fulfilled his commitment to Captain Turner, and both parted ways, filled with mutual admiration and friendship. Indeed, if we can speak of love between men, it would be true of these two men. Captain Turner always treated Suncook with respect and relied on him as his lieutenant in the first year in the new world.

Word had already spread throughout the Abenaki of the miraculous appearance of Suncook, who remained true to the physique and form of a great Abenaki warrior. Suncook dressed as his father would wish; he spoke with reverence to the sagamore, and he pretended he had no recollection of his childhood, although he lived falsely in that regard as he would permit no one or anything to destroy his inner spirit, his cherished memories of youth.

As he approached his father Mannitt, Suncook could see the elder sagamore had aged. Yes, five years had passed, but his father seemed frail beyond his years.

Father and sagamore, I have returned from many years of lost wanderings in a world, not of my nature. I have returned, and I live to serve you and the Abenaki people.

Sadness filled Suncook’s heart. He saw the telltale signs of smallpox, the red facial bumps, the fever. That night, Mannitt died. Suncook was sure that he saw the soul of his father rise slowly, absorbed into the rustling trees on a windy night agitated by Wushowsen, the god of wind. The practical matter of a quick burial to prevent the further spread of the deadly disease challenged Suncook. The burial pit was deeper than normal, and the funeral services were truncated. Mannitt was gone to the spiritual world. A new sagamore would be determined by the senior warriors. Suncook was worthy in every respect, but when he showed the fierce warriors of the tribe his collection of guns, they anointed him as sagamore with no further consideration.

Suncook would learn that guns did not improve Abenaki security; they leveled