Deerfield Captives Abigail Nims and Josiah Rising
Read the fascinating story about how two children from Deerfield, Massachusetts, were kidnapped and taken to Quebec in 1704 by French troops and their indigenous allies. Abigail Nims and Josiah Rising (who became Raizenne) remained in New France and are the ancestors of thousands of French Canadians today.
Kidnapped by War: Ancestors of the 1704 Deerfield Raid
The Story of Josiah Rising and Abigail Nims
Imagine trekking more than 300 miles from a small town in Massachusetts to Fort Chambly, Québec, in the heart of winter. The journey takes you across deep snow, icy rivers, and rugged wilderness. Now picture doing it in 1704, without the equipment or protections we take for granted today. And finally, imagine that you’re just a child, forcibly taken from your home by French and Indigenous warriors. Your "master"—a member of your captor's community—leads you through this grueling journey to their home.
This was the harrowing experience of my 7th great-grandparents, Abigail Nims and Josiah Rising.
Abigail Nims, the daughter of Godfrey Nims and Mehitable Smead, was born in 1700 in Deerfield, Massachusetts, then part of the New England Colonies. Josiah Rising, the son of John Rising and Sarah Hale, was born in nearby Suffield in 1694 but was living with his uncle in Deerfield by 1704.
At the time, Deerfield was a small, isolated community with fewer than 300 inhabitants. The population consisted primarily of young, subsistence-farming families who were devout Puritans. However, Deerfield’s location on the far edge of English settlement made it anything but peaceful. The town became a flashpoint in the ongoing conflict between the French and the English, each supported by their Indigenous allies.
In the decades leading up to the Deerfield Raid of 1704, English colonists and Indigenous villages endured repeated attacks during conflicts such as King Philip’s War, King William’s War, and Queen Anne’s War. Deerfield villagers lived in constant fear of retaliation, aware of their vulnerability on the frontier.
To prepare for potential attacks, the town fortified and expanded its palisades—a defensive wall made of wooden stakes—in 1703. That October, two Deerfield residents were ambushed and taken captive to Canada. Soldiers were stationed around the village in response, but as the remainder of the year passed without further incidents, they were eventually withdrawn.
In early 1704, Massachusetts Governor Joseph Dudley received a warning from the Iroquois of a potential French and Indigenous assault, though no details were provided about its timing or target. In February, 20 militiamen were dispatched to guard Deerfield. They joined approximately 70 local men, organized under the command of Captain Jonathan Wells, to defend the settlement.
Meanwhile, across the border at Fort Chambly, a force of approximately 250 men was being assembled under the command of Jean-Baptiste Hertel de Rouville. This group included about 50 French and Canadian soldiers and officers from the Compagnies Franches de la Marine, with the remainder made up of Indigenous warriors. Among them were members of the Wôbanaki Confederacy (including the Abenaki, Pennacook, Sokoki, Pocumtuck, and others), the Wendat (Huron Iroquois), and the Kanienkehaka (Mohawk Iroquois) nations. As they advanced south toward the New England colonies, they were joined by an additional 30 to 40 Pennacook men from Cowass (modern-day Newbury, Vermont).
Deerfield was not a strategically significant target; it was chosen simply because of its proximity, being the nearest New England settlement to the French base at Chambly.
The raid occurred on February 29, 1703/1704 (under the Julian calendar) or March 11, 1704 (by the Gregorian calendar still in use today). The French and Indigenous forces left most of their equipment and supplies about three kilometres from the town and observed as the villagers settled in for the night. According to some accounts, only a single man stood guard over the village. Snow drifts had accumulated to the height of the palisade, enabling several attackers to climb over easily. Once inside, they unlocked the gate to allow the rest of the raiders to enter.
“The savage foe came noiselessly over the palisades at the northwest corner, where the winter winds had lifted the highest drifts, and distributed themselves among the peaceful homes. Then came the dreadful warwhoop, the blows of axes on resisting doors, the leaping of flames and the report of muskets.”
With faces painted and war-cries echoing through the night, the Indigenous warriors launched their attack. The raiders moved systematically from house to house, armed with bayonets and tomahawks. They killed many of the residents and captured others, sparing none in their path. Valuables were looted, and several homes were set ablaze, their flames lighting the dark winter sky. Only a few houses in the southern part of Deerfield managed to hold out, their occupants successfully defending themselves against the onslaught.
“At the end of the fight the only two houses within the palisades that were not smoking ruins were the one so bravely defended and the garrison house. The latter had been pillaged, and when the enemy began their retreat they set it on fire, but it was saved by the efforts of the few English who had escaped death and capture and were still in the village. This building, as time went on and the events of this past February night receded into the past, came to be known as “The Old Indian House.” […] The old door, filled with nails and gashed by Indian tomahawks, has luckily been preserved”.
By early morning, militiamen from the nearby villages of Hadley, Hatfield, and Northampton arrived, prompting the attackers to flee. The militiamen, joined by garrison soldiers and Deerfield residents, pursued the raiders. However, deadly skirmishes in the North Meadows forced the pursuers to retreat. This confrontation, now known as the “Meadows Fight,” claimed the lives of two Deerfield residents, two soldiers, and five militiamen.
On the raiders’ side, 22 Frenchmen were wounded, including de Rouville, and two were killed. Among the Indigenous warriors, seven were killed, and many others sustained injuries.
The attack left the village of Deerfield in ruins. Seventeen of its 41 homes were destroyed, 38 villagers and three soldiers were killed, and 109 residents were taken captive. Among the captives were three Frenchmen who had been living in the village. Nearly 40% of Deerfield’s population had been kidnapped, with women and children making up the majority.
The Indigenous attackers intended to adopt many of the younger captives into their communities or sell them. Among those taken were the town’s reverend, John Williams, and my two ancestors: Abigail and Josiah. In 1707, Williams recounted his ordeal in a memoir titled The Redeemed Captive Returning to Zion.
A Long Journey North
And so began my ancestors' 300-mile (480-kilometre) trek to Canada in the dead of winter. Of the 112 captives who started the journey, only a handful managed to escape. The captors issued a chilling warning through Reverend Williams: any escapees who were recaptured would face torture. From that point on, no one else dared to flee. To ensure control, the captors tied up Williams and the other men every night.
Reverend Williams later recounted the emotional devastation of leaving Deerfield: “Who can tell what sounds pierced our souls, when we saw ourselves carried away from God’s sanctuary, to go into a strange land, exposed to so many toils; the journey being at least 300 miles we were to travel; the snow up to our knees, and we never inured to such hardships and fatigues; the place where we were to be carried a Popish country.”
After crossing the river north of Deerfield and reaching the base of a mountain, the captives were ordered to remove their shoes and wear moccasins—traditional footwear made of deerskin or other leather—to move more efficiently through the snow.
Of the 112 people who began the grueling journey, it is believed that only 89 survived to reach Québec. While it was in the captors’ interest to keep their prisoners alive, anyone who fell behind, became ill, or was injured was killed and left behind. Tragically, this fate often befell the most vulnerable: young children, infants, and pregnant women.
Reverend Williams’ wife, Eunice, who had given birth only six weeks earlier, was among the first to be killed. Abigail’s mother also lost her life during the journey.
Describing the second day of their arduous march, Reverend Williams wrote:
“I was made to wade over a small river, and so were all the English, the water above knee-deep, the stream very swift; and after that, to travel up a small mountain; my strength was almost spent… I asked each of the prisoners (as they passed me) after her [his wife Eunice], and heard that in passing through the above said river, she fell down, and was plunged over head and ears in the water; after which she travelled not far,” and unable to keep up was killed.
Upon reaching the Connecticut River, the captors used sleighs to transport their injured warriors and the youngest children, while others were carried. Reverend Williams noted with some relief:
"My youngest daughter, aged seven years, was carried all the journey, and looked after with a great deal of tenderness. My youngest son, aged four years, was wonderfully preserved from death; for though they that carried him, or drew him on sleighs, were tired with their journeys, yet their savage, cruel tempers were so over-ruled by God, that they did not kill him […]."
For the adults, however, the journey was far more grueling. Reflecting on day 19, Williams wrote:
"My march on the French (Winooski) river was very sore; for fearing a thaw, we travelled a very great pace; my feet were so bruised, and my joints so distorted by my travelling in snowshoes, that I thought it impossible to hold out."
According to Reverend Williams’ account, the group marched north along the frozen Connecticut River, then followed the Wells River upstream and the Winooski River downstream before finally reaching Lake Champlain. Nights were spent in makeshift shelters and wigwams made of brush and cut spruce, offering little protection from the cold.
From Lake Champlain, the captives were taken to Chambly and then dispersed. Each Indigenous captor brought their captive(s) to their respective village. There, the captives faced varying fates: some were adopted into the community as family members, while others became servants or slaves, were held for ransom, or were sold for money.
Fates Negotiated
In response to the Deerfield Raid, Governor Dudley organized retaliatory raids on several Acadian villages, including Pentagouet, Passamaquoddy Bay, Grand Pré, Pisiquid, and Beaubassin. His men were instructed to capture villagers who could be used in prisoner exchanges for those taken at Deerfield. Meanwhile, Deerfield residents worked to collect ransom money in the hope of buying the captives’ freedom.
By 1705, most of the Deerfield captives had been sold or traded to the French by their Indigenous captors, although some of the youngest prisoners remained with their Native adopters. Both groups sought to assimilate the captives into their respective cultures. For the French, the primary goal was conversion to Roman Catholicism, while the Indigenous communities integrated captives into their traditional way of life.
One such captive was Reverend Williams’ eight-year-old daughter, Eunice. Adopted into a Mohawk community, she fully assimilated, eventually marrying a Mohawk man at the age of 16. She did not reunite with her English family until much later in life. Some captives, even when given the choice to return to New England, chose instead to remain in their new French or Indigenous homes, having built lives and connections in these communities.
By the end of 1706, most of the Deerfield captives who wished to return home were able to do so through ransom payments or prisoner exchanges coordinated by the governor. Of the 89 captives who had survived the journey to Québec, 36 chose to remain there permanently. Among them were my 7th great-grandmother Abigail Nims, my 7th great-grandfather Josiah Rising. Historians generally agree that those who stayed did so because they had formed strong community, family, and religious bonds and had fully assimilated into their new surroundings.
Of the captives taken by the Abenaki and Pennacooks, all but three were sold to the French. The Huron did not retain any of their captives. The Mohawks at Kahnawake, however, successfully assimilated six young prisoners into their community, including Eunice Williams. Among the Iroquois, only eight-year-old Hannah Hurst became fully integrated as an “Iroquois of the Mountain.” The others were either sold or traded.
Two captives, Abigail Nims and Josiah Rising, eventually married and settled in Oka, their connections to their original Indigenous villages fading over time. They lived out their lives there, becoming part of a new community that blended elements of their past and present lives.
Growing Up Among the Iroquois
Abigail was initially sent to the Mission of the Mountain in Sault-au-Récollet, located on the Rivière-des-Prairies. It is believed that her captor may have been Haronhiateka, Chief of the Bear Clan of Sault-au-Récollet. Abigail was adopted by a woman named Ganastarsie, likely the wife of her captor, and went to live in her longhouse. There, she was likely tasked with household chores such as collecting water, cleaning, and caring for younger children.
Josiah was taken to Fort-Lorette, but little is known about his life there during his early years. Both Abigail and Josiah learned to speak French and Iroquois, becoming fully integrated into their new communities.
A late 19th-century book recounting the children’s adoption into Iroquois communities is clearly shaped by the prejudices of its era, portraying their experiences in a disparaging light. The author’s description reflects a Eurocentric perspective that dismisses Indigenous ways of life as inferior:
“There they lived in true Indian fashion, rolling in the dirt with the pappooses and puppies with which the village was swarming, and quickly catching the Iroquois language.[…] Picture the life of these children at the Indian fort. The dark, cold, smoky wigwam; the scanty clothing in which they had been snatched from home all rags and dirt, replaced at last by a blanket which was their dress by day, their bed at night; coarse and unpalatable food; corn pounded, soaked and boiled in unsavory pottage; roasted pumpkin a rare luxury”.
This account provides a glimpse into the physical conditions the captives may have faced, but it is heavily biased, failing to recognize the cultural richness or adaptability of the Indigenous communities into which the children were integrated.
Josiah Rising was given the Indigenous name ShoentakȢanni, which roughly translates to “his village has been taken from him,” while Abigail was named TȢatogȢach, meaning “she who gets the water.”
A note on The Use of the Character Ȣ in Indigenous Names: Many Indigenous languages in Canada did not have written forms centuries ago, as communication was primarily oral. Researchers often encounter genealogical records where a character resembling the number 8 appears. This symbol is actually the ligature Ȣ, representing the sound [u], created by stacking the vowel u on top of the vowel o.
When Jesuit priests worked to transcribe Indigenous languages, they faced challenges in representing sounds that had no French equivalent. The symbol Ȣ was sometimes used to denote both the sound [u], when preceding a consonant, and the glide [w], when preceding a vowel. This usage is often seen in words from the Iroquoian language family, such as Huron-Wendat, where the Ȣ became a linguistic bridge in written translations.
For the French-Canadian clergy, the primary goal was to educate the English children and ensure their swift conversion to the Roman Catholic faith. Abigail was educated by nuns at the Mission School for girls, which was headed by Soeur Marie des Anges. A former New England captive herself, she had been taken in an earlier raid and was originally named Marie Geneviève Saward.
At the Mission School, children learned to sing, read, write, and speak French, while also receiving instruction in Catholic catechism. The girls were taught domestic skills such as sewing, knitting, and spinning, while the boys were trained in trades like carpentry, shoemaking, and masonry.
On June 15, 1704, Abigail was baptized at Notre-Dame in Montréal and given a new French name: Marie Elizabeth.
Her baptism record reads :
“On the same day, the fifteenth of June 1704, baptism ceremonies were performed by myself, the undersigned priest, for a little English girl called Abigail in her country, and now Marie Elizabeth, born in Dearfield in New England on (May 31st old style) June twelfth 1700, of the marriage of the deceased Geoffroi Nimbs shoemaker and of Meetabel Smeed also deceased. The child taken from the said place on March eleventh last and living in the hut of a ‘savage of the mountain’ named Ganastarsi. The godmother was miss Marie Elizabeth Le moyne daughter of sir Charles Le moine esquire, baron of Longueil, knight of the order of St-Louis and captain of a company with Francois Brunet, who declared not knowing how to sign when asked, following the ordinance.”
In 1706, Josiah was also baptized under his new French name, Ignace. His baptism took place at the Sault-au-Récollet Mission on December 23, 1706, when he was about 12 years old.
At this early stage in their captivity, several New England emissaries visited the Mission, attempting to negotiate the release of English children. Abigail is believed to have been kept hidden at the convent during these discussions. In 1705, five captives were released, and four others managed to escape back to Deerfield. Additional captives were freed the following year. However, for reasons that remain unclear, Abigail and Josiah were not among those returned to New England. As some English prisoners left the Mission, new captives were continually brought in.
“Grim and direful scenes our two captives saw, when the war parties returned with scalps and prisoners. The two long rows of savages armed with clubs and hatchets, were formed at the gate of the fort. Between these the weary and footsore captives ran for nearly three-quarters of a mile, the savages mocking and striking at them as they ran. Then came the dreadful pow-wow, when the poor sufferers were made to sing and dance round a great fire, while their tormenters yelled and shrieked. The children saw many of their Deerfield neighbors brought into the fort this way.”
Between 1707 and 1711, no prisoner exchanges took place. In 1712, the Canadian governor proposed an exchange of English captives in Canada for the French prisoners held at Deerfield. That September, nine Deerfield captives returned to New England, but Abigail and Josiah were not among them.
Abigail’s brother, John, was part of the group sent to recover the captives in Canada. According to various accounts, Abigail told her brother that she did not wish to leave. Similarly, Josiah refused a relative’s offer to bring him back home. Both had likely become deeply integrated into their new lives and communities.
After the Treaty of Utrecht was signed, slavery was no longer legal, prompting another effort in 1714 to secure the release of the remaining Deerfield captives.
On July 29, 1715, 15-year-old Abigail, now called Elizabeth, married 21-year-old Josiah, now called Ignace. The following is a translation of their marriage record:
“This 29th July 1715, I have married Ignace ShoentakȢanni and Elizabeth TȢatogȢach, both English, who wish to remain with the Christian Indians, not only renouncing their nation but even wishing to live en sauvages [as Indians]. Ignace aged about 23 or 24 years, and Elisabeth about 15. Both were taken at Dierfile [Deerfield] about 13 years ago.”
Josiah’s father, John Rising, passed away in 1719. In his will, he left Josiah five pounds on the condition that he return to New England—a condition Josiah never fulfilled.
In 1721, the Mission of the Mountain relocated from Sault-au-Récollet to Lac des Deux Montagnes (Lake of the Two Mountains), in what is now Oka. The Sulpician priests granted Abigail and Josiah a sizeable lot of land, which they cultivated as farmers. They called their property Risingland.
Abigail and Josiah had at least eight children:
Marie Madeleine (1716–1796): Became a nun, known as Sister Saint-Herman.
Amable Simon (1719–1788): Became a priest.
Marie Anne (c. 1721–1787): Married Louis Séguin dit Ladéroute.
Marie Catherine (c. 1723–?): Married Jean Baptiste Séguin dit Ladéroute.
Marie Anastasie (c. 1725–1798): Married Jean Baptiste Sabourin, then Pierre Castonguay.
Suzanne (c. 1727–?): Married Joseph Gentien dit Chénier.
Marie (1735–1811): Became a nun, known as Sister Saint-Ignace, and attained the title of 13th Mother Superior in her local congregation.
Jean Baptiste Jérôme (1740–1795): Married Marie Charlotte Sabourin, settled on his father’s estate, and had ten children. Although he had aspired to become a priest, circumstances prevented it. Instead, he transformed his home into a sanctuary, welcoming the poor, orphans, and the destitute.
Final Days of Abigail and Josiah
Abigail Nims died at the age of 46 on January 3, 1747, in Oka. During her final days of a fatal illness, she reportedly refused to remove her hair shirt, which she always wore as penance.
Josiah Rising died at the age of 77 around December 30, 1771, in Oka.
The Raizenne House in Oka
The name Rising evolved into "Raizenne" in French. The Raizenne home, built in 1717, is the oldest house in Oka. It remained in the Raizenne family for an impressive 231 years, passed down through generations. By 2015, the house was owned by the Beaupré family and was featured in a scene from X-Men: Apocalypse, where it portrayed a house in Poland. You can read more in the L’Éveil article here.
Today, the home belongs to the Meyer family. They are working to have it designated as a heritage property to ensure its preservation for future generations.
Several Raizenne descendants went on to have large families of their own. As a result, thousands of French Canadians today can trace their lineage back to Abigail Nims and Josiah Rising.
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Sources and additional reading:
“Massachusetts, Town Records, 1620-1988,” digital images, Ancestry.ca (https://www.ancestry.ca/imageviewer/collections/2495/images/40143_264692__0004-00098?pId=5936100 : accessed 10 Dec 2024), birth of Abigail Nims, 27 May 1701, Deerfield; citing original data: Town and City Clerks of Massachusetts. Massachusetts Vital and Town Records. Provo, UT: Holbrook Research Institute (Jay and Delene Holbrook).
“North America, Family Histories, 1500-2000,” digital images, Ancestry.ca (https://www.ancestry.ca/imageviewer/collections/61157/images/46155_b289654-00041?pId=530470 : accessed 10 Dec 2024), birth of Josiah Rising, 2/21 Feb 1694; citing original data: Rising Genealogy : descendants of Jonathan Rising of Suffield, Connecticut.
Johnson, Clifton, An Unredeemed Captive: Being the Story of Eunice Williams (Holyoke, Mass.: Griffith, Axtell & Cady Company, 1897). Digitized by Google Books (https://play.google.com/books/).
Williams, John, The Redeemed Captive: A Narrative of the Captivity, Sufferings, and Return of the Rev. John Williams, Minister of Deerfield, Massachusetts, who was Taken Prisoner by the Indians on the Destruction of the Town, A.D. 1704 (New York, NY: S.W. Benedict & Company, 1833). Digitized by Google Books (https://play.google.com/books/).
Historic Deerfield, Inc., The French and Indian Raid on Deerfield, Massachusetts, February 29, 1704 (Deerfield, Massachusetts: Historic Deerfield Publications, 2008).
Baker, C. Alice, True Stories of New England Captives Carried to Canada during the Old French and Indian Wars (Greenfield, Mass.: Press of E. A. Hall & Co., 1897). Digitized by Google Books (https://play.google.com/books/).
“Le LAFRANCE (Baptêmes, Mariages, Sépultures)," database and digitized images, Généalogie Québec (https://www.genealogiequebec.com/Membership/LAFRANCE/acte/175370 : accessed 10 Dec 2024), baptism of Marie Elisabeth Nimbs, 15 Jun 1704, Montréal (Notre-Dame-de-Montréal) ; citing original data: Gabriel Drouin, Drouin Collection, Institut Généalogique Drouin, Montréal, Québec, Canada.
Ibid. (https://www.genealogiequebec.com/Membership/LAFRANCE/acte/10025 : accessed 10 Dec 2024), marriage of Ignace Shoentakouani and Elisabeth Touatogouach, 29 Jul 1715, Oka (L’Annonciation).
Ibid. (https://www.genealogiequebec.com/Membership/LAFRANCE/acte/111703 : accessed 10 Dec 2024), burial of Elisabeth Nimbs, 3 Jan 1747, Oka (L’Annonciation).
Ibid. (https://www.genealogiequebec.com/Membership/LAFRANCE/acte/415924 : accessed 10 Dec 2024), burial of Ignace Raizenne, 30 Dec 1771, Oka (L’Annonciation).
Université de Montréal, online database, Programme de recherche en démographie historique (PRDH) (https://www-prdh-igd-com/Membership/en/PRDH/Famille/11967 : accessed 17 Oct 2019), dictionary entry for IGNACE RAIZENNE SHOENTAKOUANI and MARIE ELISABETH NIMBS TOUATOGOUACH (union 11967).