Historical Committee
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Gathering at the Hearth: Stories Mennonites
Tell
A collection of twenty-eight stories from Mennonite History
by John E. Sharp
Herald Press, 2001
Order from Provident Bookstores or call 800-759-4447
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The schnitzing party was over. The youth of the Northkill Amish settlement had gathered at the Hochstetler home for a frolic, a work party. They had peeled, cored and sliced apples for drying. The schnitz-dried apple slices- were used for baking during the winter months. Work projects often became social events, resulting in both productivity and fun. The party was over. The young people had gone home, and the Hochstetlers had gone to bed. They didn't know it, but it was the last night for this family ritual. In the pre-dawn hours of September 20, 1757, the Hochstetlers were aroused from their sleep by the incessant barking of the dog. Ten-year-old Jakob got up to investigate. When he opened the door a gunshot shattered the stillness of the night. A musket ball shattered Jakob's leg. The family was up in an instant. What was this? Had the war come to their front door? Through the windows the Hochstetlers could see shadowy figures by the bake oven, some distance from the house. They were Indians! The Delawares (Lenni-Lenapi) and the Shawnees had once lived and hunted in these Pennsylvania hills and valleys. But they had lost the land in the _______ Purchase of 17__ . Other treaties were made and broken as the Native Americans were pushed from their ancestral homes. The Amish had not displaced the Indians directly, but they were part of the endless tide of European American settlers that forced the boundaries of the frontier westward. Incited by the French to weaken the British claims in the colonies, Indian bands raided white frontier settlements. One such band was now stalking the Hochstetler home. What could they do? Eighteen-year-old Joseph, and sixteen-year-old Christian grabbed their rifles. They were excellent marksmen. With their shooting skills they could defend the family and assure their survival. Surely, this crisis required such action. Father Jacob was of a different mind. He ordered the boys to put their guns away. Guns were for hunting animals, not for shooting human beings. And, yes, Indians were humans created and loved by God. Jacob's anxiety for the family's safety was overruled by the Amish conviction that Jesus' teaching about loving one's enemies was practical, not just theoretical-even in situations like this. The guns were put away, and the family, now quite vulnerable, waited to see what the stalkers would do. They did not have long to wait. The Indians set fire to the house, the barn and other farm buildings. The besieged family took refuge in the cellar, where they fought back the flames with apple cider, recently pressed. Dawn was breaking and the Indians began to drift away. Thinking they had survived the traumatic attack, the family escaped the burning house through a basement window-and into the hands of their attackers. Mother Hochstetler, a daughter and Jacob, Junior, were killed and scalped. Jacob, Joseph and Christian were taken captive. An older son, John, who lived nearby, was alerted by the flames, and came upon the scene only to watch helplessly as the tragic scene unfolded before him. The captives were taken across the Allegheny Mountains to Indian territory, where they were separated and adopted into Native tribes. After several years, Jacob escaped his village, traveling by night and hiding by day. Eventually he reached a tributary of the Susquehanna River, built a raft and floated downstream. Eventually, he was spotted and pulled ashore-exhausted and famished. When examined by provincial authorities, Jacob gave this account of his escape: I got the liberty for hunting, one morning very soon [I] took my gun finding a Bark Canoe on the River wherein I crossed it, traveling E[a]st for 6 Days from there I arrvd. at the souce of the west Branch [of the Susquehanna River], there I march[ed] for 4 Days further till I was sure of it [that it was the Susquahanna}, there I took several Bloks tying them together till I got a flo[a]tt, there I flo[a]tted myself Down the River for five Days where I did arrive at Shamokin, Living all the time on grass. [I] pass'd in the Whole for 15 Days.1 What about Joseph and Christian? Jacob, with the help of more literate friends, petitioned Lieutenant Governor James Hamilton of Pennsylvania to intervene and return his sons. A part of the negotiated settlement at the end of the French and Indian War was the return of prisoners. This was less than satisfactory since most Native families were reluctant to give up their adopted members. Furthermore, many adoptees did not want to abandon their Native families and tribes. The attachment between "captive" and "captor" was expressed in the speech of a Shawnee chief as he relinquished: Fathers, we have brought your flesh and blood to you: they have all been united to us by adoption; and though we now deliver them, we will always look upon them as our relations . . . We have taken as much care of them as if they were our own flesh and blood. . . . we request you will use them tenderly and kindly, which will induce them to live contentedly with you. The Shawnee speech did, indeed, express the deep bonds that were forged between the Amish boys and their Native American families. Joseph was returned under the conditions of the treaty, and Christian apparently came back on his own. But both struggled to adjust to the strange ways of their once-familiar culture. Even schnitzing parties.
Reprinted with permission from the forthcoming book Gathering at the Hearth: Stories Mennonites Tell edited by John E. Sharp, Herald Press, Copyright 2001. The book is sponsored by the Historical Committee of the Mennonite Church. |
Amish
or Shawnee? The Hochstetlers of Northkill