Captain John Swan heirloom

The Silver Tankard of Captain John Swan

What was one of your most beloved gifts you have ever received? Do you remember when and who gave it to you? Do you remember giving a gift someone else appreciated? Most of the gifts I received as a child, and gave, are gone now. Vanished into only memories. I hand made a headband for my dad as a gift for when he would bake bread. He loved and cherished it. But now I don’t think we would cherish old well-used, sweaty headband, but the memories of the weekends when Dad would bake bread to sell, those memories remain and have left a lasting impression.
There are times when we may find an old gift when we rummage through of box of old things. Or perhaps it may be something we use all the time and only remember the value of it years later. I still have a plate that I ate from when I was a child, but I scarcely think on it. But sometimes, I look at it and remember family meals from my childhood. I remember the pile of beets that would sit on that plate and stare me for hours waiting for me to yield and eat them. In contrast, Mom’s mashed potatoes and gravy only lasted a few minutes on that same plate.
Now and again there are those precious gifts not give to us directly but have been passed down from ancestors. My wife’s grandfather was a famous painter who used his left hand to paint  because his right hand was withered. We have some of his original artwork. I treasure this legacy of my wife’s heritage.
My daughter has in her room a secretary (desk) which belonged to her great-grandmother, my grandmother. Some might have tossed out such an old piece of furniture, but it is a great reminder of her. And for me it was a reminder of visiting my grandparents home. Their library with all their books, the small electric organ in the living room, my grandfather’s workshop in the basement, the rest of downstairs where we would play, and many other sights, sounds, and smells of their home.
Recently I discovered one of those gifts which has surfaced recently as I was researching more about Susanna Swan. John Swan was given a silver tankard at the time of his father’s death, Captain John Swan. He was the husband of the Susanna Eastman Swan (whom I wrote about). The date on it was 1743, over 275 years ago. What a wonderful treasure! What kind of wonderful stories while family were gathered around where this tankard sat. Alas, The whole history of this tankard is somewhat of a mystery.
Here is what I have learned that is not in the histories about Captain John Swan and his wife Susanna Eastman Swan. This silver tankard was made by a famous silversmith of the time, John Burt. It appears to be gift to the son, John Swan at the time of Captain John Swan’s death, since it has his death date and age on it. Three years ago, it was sold at the time of an antique collector’s death. He has acquired it from the Danielson estate in Danielson, CT when it was found along with other items and documents.

Read about it here.  There is more information about it (here and here) 

It was later sold on ebay: Silver tankard

The latest place it was sold was here at this site:

auction site

I am still investigating the details about this heirloom. 

If you have any information, please contact or comment below.

Here are some pictures of the silver tankard:

Susanna Eastman Swan

Susanna Eastman Swan

When I was young one of my favorite books was “Wait For Me, Watch For Me Eula Bee”. The book tells a story about a young boy trying to rescue his sister from the Indians (native Americans) who had captured her, while their father is off fighting in the Civil War. What captured my attention was the sense of fear I felt for them. Yet I also felt a sense of hopefulness as the brother desperately attempts to rescue his sister. 
As I was looking into my own family history to my surprise I found one of my ancestors had been captured by Indians over three hundred years ago. Not once, but twice! One of those times her young daughter was killed before her eyes and then she was taken captive. Susanna Eastman Swan was her name, though at the time, she was Susanna Wood (she was married to Thomas Wood at the time).  
I cannot fathom the sorrow and fear she must have felt. I had read about such a tragedy and their eventual reunion. But the loss of a child and the fear of what would happen to herself must have been overwhelming. Susanna Wood persevered though and eventually escaped captivity almost 2 years later. The tale of her courageous escape was extolled in a poem written by her granddaughter (included below). 
Half of year later she married John Swan. Later she fended over another attempt to capture her. By this time, Susanna decided to avoid another attack, she and her family moved from Haverhill, Massachusetts to Stonington, Connecticut. From there, she lived out her life until she was nearly one hundred years old. 
Susanna Eastman Swan was born 5 November 1673 in Salisbury, Essex, Massachusetts. She died 20 March 1772 in Stonington, New London, Connecticut.

I am not sure if there is anyway to compare my struggles in my life with that of hers. Time and circumstance have changed the struggles we face today. Susanna’s sufferings, fears, and anxieties may seem like begone struggles from an era long ago. Yet she lived a full life with a family and several children for nearly one hundred years. When I look over Susanna’s story, I find inspiration for my own life. Then I wonder what my descendants will gain from looking at my life. What will be their struggles? Will I be able to inspire them to live a full life? As for me, I look to Susanna and I draw some strength and courage to face my challenges, for some of her blood flow in me today, and not just me but hundreds of her descendants.

One of them, a granddaughter, wrote this poem to commemorate her courage:

Susannah Swan

While wintry winds are sighing around our cottage door,

And deepening snows are drifting the garden hillocks o’er,

We’ll pile the logs still higher upon the hearth’s red glow,

And tell a tale of olden time, our grandsire used to know.

How the prowling Indians came, and stole Susannah Swan away

To their lonely forest camp ground, and made her captive stay;

While hearts were sore and aching in Haverhill’s busy town.

As vainly her kinsfolk sought with runners up and down.

Her eyes were bright and winsome, her voice was sweet and clear,

Her heart was staunch and brave, and never shrank with fear,

As far from home and kindred, within the dark green wood,

Beside their rude built cabins, the lonely captive stood.

She sang them songs at twilight; returning from the chase

The dusky warriors gathered round, and gazed upon her face

Whose loveliness and purity had like a vision rolled

Before their darkened minds in sunset hues of gold.

They held her long for ransom, those children of the wild;

The warriors gave her bear’s meat, the swarthy women piled

Their softest furs for her a couch beside their wigwams fire,

And sought to soothe by kindly deeds her longing heart’s desire.

To while away the weary day, her willing hands oft strove

To form the baskets varying shape, to plait the mats they wove;

Yet in the silent night time, when she laid her fair head down,

Her active mind was planning to regain old Haverhill’s town.

Each night her songs she lengthened out—it banished all their care,

As echoes of their tenderness was wafted on the air;

They slept the sleep of nature, unbroken, deep and long.

It made their brown limbs supple; it made their wild hearts strong.

In the first cool days of autumn, ere the summer took her flight,

She placed her shoes outside the door one calm and moonlight night.

Her songs were low and sweeter, as they laid them down to rest;

She sang of home and freedom from the fount within her breast.

And still the melody grew lower, till slumber fell profound

Upon those children of the wild stretched upon the ground.

God gave her strength to bravely dare, He led her safely o’er

Those prostrate forms of sleeping foes; and thus she gained the door.

Grasping her shoes with stealthy step, no sound broke upon the ear,

She glided down the well-worn path and sought the trail so near;

The giant trees, with sheltering arms, securely hid her flight,

As the brave woman struggled on that bright and starlight night.

Her feet were sore and bleeding, her limbs were bruised and torn,

Yet she was miles and miles away at breaking of the morn.

That trail is now one cultured field that buds and blooms for man;

Then drear and lonely was the way that fearless woman ran.

And there was great rejoicing, with goodly words of cheer

From pastor and from people, from kinsfolk far and near,

That God had shown His mercy, protecting through the wild,

And, bringing home in safety, had thus redeemed His child.

She lived one hundred years. That brave old heart of yore

To children’s children told the tale they since repeated o’er,

As gathered round the blazing logs in winter’s stormy time,

What I have told again tonight and blended into rhyme.

Dear little niece, whose wondering eyes have never left my face,

To you, with joy, I dedicate these lines I trace.

Be brave of heart, like her of old, amid the world’s rude strife,

And crowned with grace and loveliness, long lead a noble life.

Here are a picture of her gravestone:  

Here are some links about her:

Findagrave:

https://www.findagrave.com/memorial/70233229/susanna-swan

Giles Family History Blog:

http://gileshistory.blogspot.com/2008/06/susanna-eastman-swan_29.html

FamilySearch:

https://www.familysearch.org/tree/person/details/KCB2-RB8

Here is my connection to her:

• Susannah Eastman (1673 - 1772)
• 7th great-grandmother
• Nathaniel Swan (1709 - 1755)
• son of Susannah Eastman
• Jesse Swan (1738 - 1803)
• son of Nathaniel Swan
• Nathaniel Swan (1778 - 1871)
• son of Jesse Swan
• Henry Swan (1805 - 1879)
• son of Nathaniel Swan
• Henry Hunting Swan (1851 - 1917)
• son of Henry Swan
• Albert Jackson Swan (1877 - 1948)
• son of Henry Hunting Swan
• Walter James Swan (1916 - 1994)
• son of Albert Jackson Swan
• (1941 - )
• son of Walter James Swan
• Jared Thomas Swan
• You are the son of

I would invite anyone who is a descendant of Susanna Eastman Swan to leave a comment and share your thoughts. If you have more information, or have more accurate information, about Susanna I would love to hear more. Leave a comment or contact me.