Susanna Eastman Swan

Susanna Eastman is the stuff of great family legend—a strong frontier woman who despite a number of trials, lived a long and respected life, even inspiring a commemorative poem written by a grand-daughter to teach the next generation about courage, grace and honor.

Susanna was born in 1673 in Haverhill (pronounced Hav-r‘ll), Massachusetts. She was the daughter of Philip Eastman whose father had immigrated on the ship “Confidence” in 1638. (Sidestory: on the ship’s manifest, Roger Eastman is listed as the servant of John Saunders, but family legend says that he was hiding his true rank for political reasons.)

Despite any rank, real or pretended, the family settled in Haverhill, an outpost on the edge of civilization and an area that was easy prey for Indians during King Phillip’s War. Philip Eastman and others were attacked on May 3, 1676. The details are hazy, but somehow Philip, her father, escaped. Although it can’t be verified, but family stories say that Susanna was captured by the Indians and trained as a “medicine woman.” There is no further history of her until 1693 when she reappears and marries Thomas Wood. The next year, she has a daughter also named Susanna.

Unfortunately, that wasn’t the end of her Indian trouble. On March 15, 1697 the Indians returned. This time they burned the house, took Susanna again, and killed little Susanna and everyone else in the home. Thomas may have been captured and somehow escaped; in some way he survived, left the area, and died in 1714 in Woodstock.

Eventually the General Court arranged for a ship, the Province Galley, to go Casco Bay, to deal with the Indians and bring back anyone they could. Susannah returned on board the ship January 17, 1699. She had been captive for nearly 2 years.

In August of 1699 she married John Swan. But even then, the Indians weren’t through with her. It is said that they came in August 1708, looking especially for her as they wanted her knowledge of “medicine.” There are several versions of the assault, but the story we hear is that Susanna, thoroughly disliking anything to do with Indians by this time, was not about to be captured again. When she heard the attack begin, she armed herself with a spit from the fireplace. As an Indian brave opened the cabin door, Susanna grabbed the spit and ran him through. That, and possibly other efforts, seem to have repelled the attack.

Following that attack, she is supposed to have told her husband that they “must away” from there since the Indians were on her trail. So the family moved to Stonington, Connecticut, where they lived in relative peace.

As a side note, poor John Swan seems not to have fared too well in the family lore. He is represented as a bit of a bumbler. Once Susanna decided the family had to move out of Indian territory, everything was in an uproar on moving day. The big washtub was on the front porch, being used as a cradle for the baby while the work was going on. As everything was finished, the family and goods were all loaded onto the wagon. John did a last check to make sure everything was complete, and they set off. Unfortunately, a few miles down the road, Susanna noticed that the baby was missing. John had forgotten to pack the wash-tub/cradle, and little William had been left on the porch. Apparently John never lived that one down!

The home that John built in Stonington has survived even today. It was bought and renovated by a young couple who were interested in historical buildings. It now forms a portion of their larger, beautifully restored home and is identified as a historical landmark. (See the picture above.)

Susannah lived to be 100 years old. She is buried beside John in the Old Plains Cemetery. The site is marked by a unique headstone on which is carved the face of a very old lady, said to be Susannah. She lived a long and full life, becoming the mother of seven and the ancestor of countless others spread throughout that area and across the nation. Much of her story can be verified; much of it cannot and is lost except in family lore. Whether all that is “remembered” is true or not, Susanna is still an inspiration to her family. The following poem was written by one of her descendents.


Susannah Swan

While wintry winds are sighing around our cottage door,
And deepening snows are drifting the garden hillocks o’er,
We’ll pile the logs still higher upon the hearth’s red glow,
And tell a tale of olden time, our grandsire used to know.

How the prowling Indians came, and stole Susannah Swan away
To their lonely forest camp ground, and made her captive stay;
While hearts were sore and aching in Haverhill’s busy town.
As vainly her kinsfolk sought with runners up and down.

Her eyes were bright and winsome, her voice was sweet and clear,
Her heart was staunch and brave, and never shrank with fear,
As far from home and kindred, within the dark green wood,
Beside their rude built cabins, the lonely captive stood.

She sang them songs at twilight; returning from the chase
The dusky warriors gathered round, and gazed upon her face
Whose loveliness and purity had like a vision rolled
Before their darkened minds in sunset hues of gold.

They held her long for ransom, those children of the wild;
The warriors gave her bear’s meat, the swarthy women piled
Their softest furs for her a couch beside their wigwams fire,
And sought to soothe by kindly deeds her longing heart’s desire.

To while away the weary day, her willing hands oft strove
To form the baskets varying shape, to plait the mats they wove;
Yet in the silent night time, when she laid her fair head down,
Her active mind was planning to regain old Haverhill’s town.

Each night her songs she lengthened out—it banished all their care,
As echoes of their tenderness was wafted on the air;
They slept the sleep of nature, unbroken, deep and long.
It made their brown limbs supple; it made their wild hearts strong.

In the first cool days of autumn, ere the summer took her flight,
She placed her shoes outside the door one calm and moonlight night.
Her songs were low and sweeter, as they laid them down to rest;
She sang of home and freedom from the fount within her breast.

And still the melody grew lower, till slumber fell profound
Upon those children of the wild stretched upon the ground.
God gave her strength to bravely dare, He led her safely o’er
Those prostrate forms of sleeping foes; and thus she gained the door.

Grasping her shoes with stealthy step, no sound broke upon the ear,
She glided down the well-worn path and sought the trail so near;
The giant trees, with sheltering arms, securely hid her flight,
As the brave woman struggled on that bright and starlight night.

Her feet were sore and bleeding, her limbs were bruised and torn,
Yet she was miles and miles away at breaking of the morn.
That trail is now one cultured field that buds and blooms for man;
Then drear and lonely was the way that fearless woman ran.

And there was great rejoicing, with goodly words of cheer
From pastor and from people, from kinsfolk far and near,
That God had shown His mercy, protecting through the wild,
And, bringing home in safety, had thus redeemed His child.

She lived one hundred years. That brave old heart of yore
To children’s children told the tale they since repeated o’er,
As gathered round the blazing logs in winter’s stormy time,
What I have told again tonight and blended into rhyme.

Dear little niece, whose wondering eyes have never left my face,
To you, with joy, I dedicate these lines I trace.
Be brave of heart, like her of old, amid the world’s rude strife,
And crowned with grace and loveliness, long lead a noble life.

William and Sarah Huskinson Giles--first Giles members

This is a census record for 1851 in Nottingham, England. It was William Giles' son, Thomas, who first joined the church. You can see that they have a missionary living with them at this time. By 1853 the whole family had begun the emigration to Utah.

Do you want me to re-post Thomas' story on this blog?

Ada Louisa Phippen Walker-- Grampa Giles' grandmother

Sally and I were exploring the other day and ran into a history written by Ada Louisa Phippen, who became Grampa Giles' grandmother. She was born in Nauvoo and tells the story of the family's conversion to the church and how they traveled across the plains to SLC. She makes a couple of mistakes in dates and place names, but she was at least 80 when she wrote it.

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Given by his daughter, Ada Louisa Phippen Mahoney Walker at Heber, Utah, Sept. 13, 1923 Isaac is the great great Grandfather of Arthur Phippen

My Grandfather Joseph Phippen was born in Massachusetts in 1762. His wife's name was Silva Paul. They moved from Vermont, where my father, Isaac, was born in 1792 in the town of Westminster, Winden County, the seventh child of a family of 13 children. He lived there as a boy working on a farm and going to school in the winter months where he secured a fair education. When he was about 25 years old, a cousin of his sent for him to come to Ohio and learned the carpenter trade. He went and learned and carpenter's and builder's trade. He also learned to make all kinds of furniture which came in very handy in later years. After he had been in Ohio some time when he met the girl that became my mother. Her name was Ada Stewart. She was one of the large family. My mother was born 19 July 1798 in a western county of the state of New York. Her father and family removed to the state of Ohio, in Clark Co. My father and mother were married 18 October 1818 in Ohio. They lived there some years and my mother had two children and they were doing well, but about that time my father's mother died and his father wanted him to come home and take charge of his farm, as his older brothers had married and left the state. So they removed to Vermont and lived there some years. My mother had two more children--three boys and a girl. After awhile my grandfather married again and things became unpleasant. So my father removed his family to Chatugua Co, New York, where they lived many years and became well fixed financially and enjoyed life. My brothers and sister grew up with the advantages of good schools and plenty to live on.

In 1833 they heard the Gospel and joined the Church of Jesus Christ, but did not move to any of the places where the Mormon people had settled. They were counseled to stay and keep a place for the missionaries to stayas they traveled through. So they stayed until 1839. Then my father sold everything and removed his family to Commerce, later called Nauvoo. My two oldest brothers and my sister were baptized soon after their parents. The name was soon changed to Nauvoo. They were all sick with the ague but my father and his oldest brother. So my father secured apiece of land near the city and built a house where they lived awhile. In 1841 my mother lost her young child; it was a great trial to them. Soon after my father got a lot in Nauvoo and built a good house where I was born in 1842.

Before I was very old the people not of our faith began to have trouble with the Mormons. They wanted to drive them from their homes as they had done so many times before. Things got worse and worse and when I was a year and 10 months old the Prophet and his brother Hyrum were martyred. I have heard my mother tell what a time of sorrow it was, and times were hard and many of the people were poor but they continued to work on the temple and finally got it finished so that many went through and were endowed and felt repaid for all their hardships.

In 1845 times were very bad in Nauvoo. They had to stand guard around the city and my brother was on guard and was shot accidently and died a few hours later. In 1846 we had to leave our homes with hundreds of others. There was much suffering among the people and many were sick. We had two wagons for our family and my brother's family. So we left everything, almost, and crossed the Mississippi River and came to Winterquarters where we stayed until after the Mormon Battalion boys had gone. Also after the first company had gone to Utah. In the summer of 1847 my father planted some corn and other vegetables and raised considerable stuff that helped us through the winter. In the summer of 1848 we crossed the Missouri River into the state of Iowa. My father secured a large farm where he raised a hundred bushels of corn that he sold to the gold seekers to get money to go to Utah. He also made wagons for people to cross the plains. My mother spun and made cloth for clothing and every effort was made to get fit out to cross the plains. With hard work and economy they got a good outfit together, but as there were some poor that had to be helped to cross the plains, my father had a widow and three children in one of his wagons.

On June 28, 1852, we were ready to start to Utah again. My father and mother left everything only that which they could put in the two wagons. Left their farm and never got one cent for it. Their house and nearly everything that was in them. Only a small stove and a chair for two, not even a table, but we had plenty of provisions and clothes and had no regrets for what we left. The only thought was to get to Zion, the valley of the Mormons. We had quite a time getting started. The cows decided they did not want to go to Utah but with much persuasion and some other things, we got to the Missouri River. There were hundreds of wagons waiting their turn to cross the river. I think we stayed two nights before we could cross as there was only one boat and two wagons with teams could cross at a time. Then there were all the loose stock to cross after Father had gotten all his things over. They with a hundred other wagons, traveled several miles to a large flat where we camped, and the companies were organized into fifties with a captain over each fifty families and a captain over each ten. Our company was the 12th and our captain was Harmon Cutler. Two other companies were organized at the same time; the 10th and the11th.

We traveled together for several hundred miles for mutual protection. We saw lots of buffalo and lots of Indian scares. If there were wood and grass, and water for the teams, our captain always camped over for Sunday and held meetings and we generally had meetings Thursday nights. There they sang the songs Zion and rejoiced to think they were going to the Valley. No one grumbled over their hardships. We went on and on and had dances. We stopped and dried buffalo meat and washed our clothes when we stopped for a day or two. The women would take their stoves out and wash the clothes and bake up a lot of bread and cakes. When we milked the cows, Mother would put the milk in the churn and when we camped at noon the butter would be churned and we ate the milk with our bread and mush. They never cooked at noon. That was a time to rest. When we got to a place called Ash Hollow the Indians stole all our horses. So the captain had to have oxen draw his carriage the rest of the way to the Valley. When we got to Independence Rock we had a wedding. Lots of the young folks went through the Devil's Gate. I wanted to go but Mother would not let me. She said I was too little.

Our captain was awful slow and some of the company got dissatisfied and said that the snow would catch us before we got to the Valley. So they divided the company and put my father in as Captain and we went along fine but had some snow in South Pass. We were all glad when we saw the valley of the Great Salt Lake. It surely looked beautiful to us. We beat the other part of the company 15 days.

Before we had been in the city a week my father bought a lot with a small house on it, in the 10th ward. And we were glad to have a roof over our heads once more. At the next spring conference, 1853, they laid the corner stone for the temple. Being a child I watched everything they did very carefully and never will forget the impression I had at the time. It made a mark that has never left me and never will while life lasts. I was 10 years old at the time.

In 1854 my father moved his family to Grantsville where we lived several years. The Indians were very troublesome for some years, so we lived in a fort all the time we lived in Grantsville. My father engaged in farming and stock raising, helping to build the fort walls, and standing guard at times when the Indians were worse. My mother was a fine nurse so she had plenty of calls. At other times she spun and made cloth for our clothes. She made a great deal of butter and cheese, made molasses out of beets, out of parsnips, and anything that had sugar in it.

In 1850 we moved back to Salt Lake City. We stayed there about two years. Then Father thought he had to have a place for his stock. So in1861 Father got land in Coalville, Summit County, and still we moved. We lived there some years. In 1867 the Indians became very bad in Summit County and we had to move into Coalville. We had been living one mile and a half from the settlement, and it was no longer safe for a few families to stay out so far. My parents moved back to Salt Lake City and lived in our old home, where they both died. My mother died on April 14, 1870, aged 72. My father died May 2, 1875, aged 86. They were buried in the City Cemetery in Salt Lake City.

This history was given to the Daughters of the Pioneers on Sept. 13, 1923. Extracted from Ancestry.com, from an entry by Sue Phippen Stewart.