On June 26, 1746, a group of men were working in a field in Rochester, New Hampshire, about twenty miles from Portsmouth. Philip Dore's son Jonathan, aged ten or twelve, was given the task of lookout. Unbeknownst to them, five men working in another field had just been attacked, killing Joseph Heard, Joseph Richards, John Wentworth and Gershom Downs, and wounding and capturing John Richards. Our Jonathan was sitting on a fence, prophetically whistling a song popular at that time:

      "As sure as eggs are bakin',
      I'll go to Canada, and won't return
      Till Canada is taken."

A band of the dreaded Indians appeared, and Jonathan sounded the alarm just in time to allow all of the men to escape. But Jonathan was seized and carried off, as his father watched helplessly from his point of refuge.

"To Canada the lad was indeed taken, to the village of the Saint Francis Indians, a tribe of the great Abenaki group. While still young he was given a wife from among them, by whom he had 'several' children. Treated well by his captors, he adopted their way of life, accumulated their skills and acquired their modes of thinking and feeling. Not without reason did he become known in later years as 'Indian Dore'. The climax of all of this was at the fall of Fort William Henry in New York, when, at the slaughter of the garrison, August 1757, Jonathan Dore was ready to slay his own kith and kin." [David Grindell, Downeast Ancestry]
 

"Among the New Hampshire soldiers who escaped [the general massacre] was a Dover man. On his arrival home, he delared confidently that he had seen Jonathan Dore. Dore's father's house had been a stopping place for teamsters who came from Dover to Rochester for the purpose of logging on the Salmon Falls River. This man had been there frequently, and knew Dore well when a child. He said that when the massacre became general after the surrender of the fort, he fled to the woods and was closely pursued by an Indian. When he found the Indian was within a few feet of him, having no way of escape he turned and faced the Indian, to meet his unavoidable fate. The uplifted tomahawk was just descending upon his head when he recognized, amid the paint and costume of the Indian, the eyes of Jonathan Dore. The recognition seemed mutual. The Indian dropped his tomahawk by his side and walked slowly back to the fort. This story of the soldier gained little credit. It was not thought possible that a boy of twelve could be recognized in the man of twenty-three painted and dressed as a native of the wilderness.
 

"Nothing more was heard of Dore until December, 1759, when he suddenly made his appearance in Rochester, after an absence of thirteen years and a half. His story was substantially as follows: - He was treated kindly and adopted into the St. Francis tribe, to which his captors belonged. He married an Indian girl at an early age, and had several children. He acquired the habits and disposition of an Indian, and almost forgot that he was descended from another race. He bore a part in all the cruelties at the taking of Fort William Henry. A white man whom he was pursuing turned upon him just in season to arrest the descending tomahawk, and then Dore saw a face which had been familiar to him in the days of childhood. The recollection of his father's fireside and the happy scenes of his boyhood instantly rushed upon his mind; his arm fell by his side; he walked back to the fort overpowered by the long-forgotten associations so unexpectedly and so vividly revived within him, and took no further part in that horrible tragedy. From that time he thought often of his boyhood home, but his wife and children bound him to the Indians with ties too strong to be severed.

"The village of the St. Francis tribe contained a mixed population of French and Indians. On the evening of October 3, 1759, a wedding was celebrated in the village, at which a French priest officiated. The principal warriors of the tribes were absent on a hunting expedition. During the wedding ceremonies, persons were heard around the wigwam supposed to be Indians who had not been invited to the wedding. The result proved that they were spies of that noted New Hampshire ranger, Major Robert Rogers, who was seeking an opportunity to revenge the massacre at Fort William Henry, and discovered that evening that many of the warriors were absent from home. The dance went on, and the festivities did not end till long after midnight. Dore had some corn to husk a short distance from the village, and as it would soon be daylight, instead of retiring to rest he thought he would go into the field and husk his corn.
 

"Just before dawn he heard the sound of guns. He supposed some of the Indians, who like himself had chosen not to go to sleep after the wedding frolic, were shooting ducks. But soon, hearing a general discharge of muskets, he knew that an enemy was among them, and kept himself concealed. From his hiding-place he saw the women and children rushing into the water for escape, and being there shot or otherwise killed. It was a horrid scene, equal to any Indian butchery. An hour or two later he saw the smoke and flames of their burning village, and after all seemed quiet he crept cautiously forth. A sad picture met his gaze. Of the beautiful village of the St. Francis tribe, nothing but smoking ruins remained. "After long search among the ruins, Dore discovered the bodies of his wife and children, and hastily deposited them in one grave. No living being met his eye. He knew not where the remainder of his tribe had fled. The objects of his affection were buried, the ties which bound him to the Indians were all sundered, and his thoughts turned toward the home of his childhood. He soon returned to Rochester, and settled on a farm in Lebanon, Me., where he spent the remainder of his days." [Franklin McDuffee, History of the Town of Rochester, Vol. 1 (1892), pp.25-27]
 

At a meeting of the Proprietors of Lebanon, 23 Feb 1761, they voted to grant 50 acres in the southwest corner of the township to Jonathan Door for his actual use himself and that he shall not have the power to sell it for twenty years. [Proprietors Records, 119] He married Dorothy Farnham, daughter of Matthew and Dorothy (Webber) Farnham, natives of York, who settled early in Towwow. They had no children.

Jonathan Door of Lebanon, husbandman, made his will 12 June 1797, proved 16 Dec. 1799. He was buried in an unmarked grave near Stair Falls in the woods.

[Note: My gratitude to Betsy (Dorr) Grassi bgrassi@capecod.net for sharing this story with us. She descends from the brother of Jonathan.]