Joe English Hill
The Story of Joe English
From E.C. Cogswell, History of New Boston, (Boston: Press of Geo. C. Rand & Avery, 1864), pp. 303-5.
When the grant of New Boston was obtained, in 1763, no considerable tribe was to be found in the region, yet fragments of tribes temporarily abode both within the limits of the township, and at different points on the Merrimac and its tributaries, up to nearly that period; and though New Boston never suffered much from depredations, yet the settlers lived in fear of roving squads of them.
Joe English has sometimes been called Ingall's Hill, or Indos, but its true name is "Joe English," which it received from a noted Indian of that name. In his History of Manchester, the Hon. C. E. Potter, alluding to this eminence, thus writes: "It is noted, and is of much curiosity as a freak of nature. It is precipitous and abrupt on its southern end, having the appearance of the southern part of the hill being carried away by some convulsion of nature. In fact the hill terminates on the south in a rough precipice, presenting in the distance a height of some two or three hundred feet, and almost perpendicular. The hill took its name from an incident of olden time connected with this precipice. In 1705 or 1706, there was an Indian living in these parts, noted for his friendship for the English set tiers upon the lower Merrimac. He was an accomplished warrior and hunter, but following the counsels of Passaconaway and Wonnalancet, he continued steadfast in his partiality for his white neighbors. From this fact the Indians, as was their wont, gave him the name, significant of this trait, of 'Joe English.' In course of time the Indians, satisfied that Joe gave information of their hostile designs to the English, determined upon killing him upon the first fitting opportunity. Accordingly, just at twilight, they found Joe upon one of the branches of the 'Squog,' hunting, and commenced an attack upon him; but he escaped from them, two or three in number and made directly for this hill, in the southern part of New Boston. With the quick thought of the Indian, he made up his mind that the chances were against him in a long race, and he must have recourse to stratagem. As he ran up the hill, he slackened his pace, until his pursuers were almost upon him that they might become more eager in the pursuit. Once near the top he started off with great rapidity, and the Indians after him, straining every nerve. As Joe came upon the brink of the precipice before mentioned, he leaped behind a jutting rock, and waited in breathless anxiety. But a moment passed, and the hard breathing and measured but light footsteps of his pursuers were heard, and another moment, with a screech and yell, their dark forms were rolling down the rocky precipice, to be left at its base, food for hungry wolves!
Henceforth the hill was called Joe English, and well did his constant friendship deserve so enduring a monument.
'Joe English' was the grandson of the Sagamon of Agawam (now Ipswich), whose name was Wosconnomet.
'Joe English' came to his death in consequence of his fidelity to the whites. The hostile Indians determined upon his death, and kept constantly upon his path. At length, July 27, 1706, Lieutenant Butterfield and his wife, riding betwixt Dunstable and Chelmsford, on horseback, with Joe English as companion and a guard, fell into an Indian ambuscade. The horse was shot upon the first fire, Butterfield and his wife falling to the ground. The main object of the Indians being to secure 'Joe,' Butterfield and the soldier made their escape, while the Indians (one of the party being left in charge of Mrs. Butterfield) went in pursuit of him. 'Joe' made for the woods, several Indians in full pursuit, and finding them gaining upon him, he turned about and presented his gun as if to fire. The Indians, fearing his fatal aim, fell upon the ground, and Joe took to his heels for life. Again the Indians gained upon him, and 'Joe' again presented his trusty gun, and for fear of it the Indians again threw themselves upon the ground. This was repeated several times, until 'Joe' had almost gained the thick woods, when one of the Indians, despairing of taking him alive, and fearing he would escape them, fired upon him, breaking the arm with which he held the gun. The gun fell to the ground and 'Joe' redoubled his speed. But just as he gained the wood, a shot struck his thigh and he fell to the ground. His fall was the signal for a yell of triumph from the Indians in pursuit. When they came up to him, they expressed their pleasure in no measured terms. 'Now, Joe,' said they, 'we got you; you no tell English, again, we come! 'No,' retorted Joe, 'Cap'n Butterfield tell that at Pawtucket.' 'Hugh!' exclaimed the Indians, the thought just striking them that the soldiers at the block-houses, at Pawtucket or Dunstable, alarmed by the whites who had escaped, would be upon them in a short time. There was no time for delay. Joe could not be carried away, and one of them buried his hatchet in the head of the prostrate Indian. Thus died 'Joe English,' the faithful friend of the white man. The services of 'Joe English' were considered so meritorious that a grant was made to his wife and two children, by the Legislature of Massachusetts, because, as the words of grant have it, 'he died in the service of his country!'"