Hannah Duston Was Taken Hostage By Native Americans And Killed Her Way Out

Back in the 17th-century territory of what is now Massachusetts, many Puritan families struggled to survive in the wild, unpredictable conditions of the New World, and Puritan axe-murder Hannah Duston's crazy story has origins in this struggle. Aside from starvation, one of the Puritan settlers' greatest fears was to be attacked by the local Native Abenaki Indians who were known to wreak havoc on colonial homesteads, slaughtering anyone who fell in their path. Often referred to as the Puritan Axe Murderer, Duston lived through the nightmare of abduction when her family farm was attacked by the fearsome Abenaki, and she was forced to leave behind everything she loved in a matter of minutes.

For their part, however, the Abenaki Indians had few options for protecting their Native territory outside of attempting to forcefully frighten the settlers off of it, which was part of the motivation behind the Duston kidnapping. Taking Duston prisoner and venturing north, the Natives moved through many white settlements - massacring anyone they didn't capture. However, despite their violent skills and knowledge of the land, they were not even remotely prepared for the savagery of a mother's revenge. 

Although the Abenaki initially tried to pursue Thomas Duston, he was a hard target, and they soon gave up and turned their attention back to the homestead. After removing anything of value and burning down the humble house, the Abenaki took Hannah, Mary, and baby Martha captive, forcing them to march through the deep snow. Early on in the journey, Hannah stumbled, and Martha began to cry. Before either of the women knew what was happening, an Abenaki wrested the baby from her arms, grabbed her by the feet, swung her through the air, and smashed her against a nearby apple tree. Too stunned and horrified to protest, the two women continued to stumble along behind their captors.

Forced to carry heavy packs, the prisoners continued to travel for 12 grueling miles through swamps and calf-deep snow. Knowing the militia would soon discover the burnt homestead and come looking for the traveling party, the Abenaki rushed to make decent time. They were impatient with the prisoners and quick to scalp anyone who lagged or cried during the trip. Rather than averting her eyes, Hannah took careful note of how the Abenaki killed with ease, striking their victims directly in the temple before slicing around the crown of the head and ripping up the scalp.

The party of captors was considerably smaller after splitting up and consisted of only two warriors, three women, and seven children. After another excruciating day of travel, the group rested on an island near the Merrimack River. Upon reaching Canada, Hannah and Mary were told they would be stripped naked and forced to "run the gauntlet," a Woodland Native American tradition where captives must run between two facing lines of Natives to then be hit with sticks, clubs, and stones. Hannah knew she must make an escape or die. At this point, the captors had grown careless and assumed the women were too weak to pose a threat, so they did not continue to guard them at night. Hannah knew her chance had finally arrived.

When the Abenaki approached, the Duston children playing in the outer field dropped their sticks, the older ones scooping up the younger ones, and began running towards the nearby garrison. Thomas Duston – who was working in the fields at the time – stormed into the small house and shouted for the women to get out while they could. In her condition, Hannah was slow to move, but Mary quickly snatched baby Martha and ran outside. Knowing full well what was happening, Hannah yelled for her husband to save himself, save the children, and leave her. They could both hear Mary outside screaming in terror. Without time for a plan or even a goodbye, Thomas had no choice but to turn and run, jumping on his horse and riding out towards his children, leaving the helpless women behind.

There was also a young settler boy in the party named Samuel who had been with the Abenaki so long that he spoke their language fluently; Hannah soon befriended him and guarded his safety.

The traveling party finally stopped to camp for the night. The prisoners were exhausted, petrified, and in terrible pain from the journey. Although Hannah's breasts were throbbing from the unused milk, and her heart was searing with pain for her murdered baby, she slept like the dead. For the next 15 days, the captors dragged the prisoners along, often forcing them to sing tribal songs while they jeered and laughed. At the end of the two weeks, the women and Samuel were parceled out to a smaller group of Abenaki and began making their way towards Canada.

In addition to the new baby, Hannah had given birth to eight children, ages three to 18 years old, all of whom were outside playing on that fateful day. Hannah's husband, Thomas, was in the field planting the spring harvest when he was startled by the appearance of 10 Abenaki Indians emerging from the nearby woods. Before Thomas could react, the Abenaki leveled their guns and began shooting. Miraculously, Thomas was not hit and was able to jump on his horse and gallop back towards the house, screaming for Hannah and Mary to run.

After stealing several tomahawks from her captors, Hannah convinced Mary and Samuel to follow her lead. As night fell, they readied themselves for what must be done, hoping their movements would be absorbed by the sounds of the rushing river. At midnight, Hannah and her friends surrounded the sleeping captors and began furiously chopping away with their axes. Samuel and Mary seemed shocked by their own actions and fell back immediately, but Hannah continued to raise her weapon, again and again, detached and focused on her bloody revenge. Once quiet, it became clear Mary's female-mark had escaped with a child, Samuel had killed one captor, and Hannah had successfully slaughtered the remaining nine Abenaki in their sleep.

It was March 1697 when Hannah Duston's tiny farm in colonial Massachusetts was attacked by a band of raiding Abenaki Indians. There was still snow on the ground outside Hannah's window as she rested comfortably in her humble room, nursing her newborn baby girl, Martha, and talking with her midwife, Mary Neff. Instead of settling in a nearby garrison where other frontier families were protected by tall wooden walls and gates, the Duston family had chosen the freedom and independence of open land, despite its inherent dangers. It was this lack of protection as well as her recent childbirth that would get Hannah kidnapped by the Abenaki.

In 1879, Duston became the first American woman to have a statue erected in her honor, a bronze monument that shows her brandishing her famous biscayan axe. It still stands in Haverhill, New Hampshire where Duston joined the Second Church in 1724. The original hatchet she used to scalp her captors can be seen at the local Historical Society, and there are several other markers throughout the area paying homage to her incredible journey. 

Despite Duston's heroic efforts to save herself and restore her family, there are many who feel her monument is a disturbing reminder of how the "savages" of the area were being incentivized to strike against the English as a way to benefit the French King and his quest for ownership of the New World. With the promise of gifts and money, the King of France had allied the tribes to his cause and set a high price on English scalps. In that way, the Abenaki aggression is given a context that's not considered in the memorial of Hannah Duston. Considering her statue was the first to commemorate a brave woman in the new nation, critics are quick to point out the biased nature of her story. 

Wasting no time, Hannah gathered what food she could find, dressed herself, Samuel, and Mary in Abenaki clothing, grabbed a hatchet and gun, and packed the canoe while getting the others out of sight. But before escaping, she turned back to the pile of corpses and methodically scalped each one, just as she has seen them do many times. Hannah scalped all 10 Abenaki – six of whom were children – washed her hands, and began heading south in the canoe.

Miraculously, Hannah and her friends made it back to the Duston land without being discovered, and they found her husband and children alive and safe. The only one who had been lost to the tragedy was precious little Martha. The Dustons headed to Boston where they received a whopping 25 pounds for the Abenaki scalps, and Hannah's harrowing tale was officially recorded. Mary and Samuel were given a share of the money, and Hannah and her husband purchased more land along the river. She went on to have another baby girl the following year and lived to be 90 years old.