Resources on Silas Soule

I had a great and fascinating conversation with Head Room (Caught Dead in Wyoming, Book 15) narrator Betsy Moore and her mother about the historic figure Silas Soule (who was mentioned in Head Room), how they’re related to him, and his extraordinary history as an abolitionist and conductor on the Underground Railroad.

Watch the full video here: LINK

Silas Stillman Soule Timeline

July 6, 1838 Born, Bath Maine. Parents Amasa and Sophia (Low)

Nov. 1854 Father, Amasa, and older brother William Lloyd Garrison arrive near current Lawrence, Kansas, becoming among the founding fathers.

Summer 1855 Silas, with his mother, and two sisters arrive in Kansas

Shortly After Amasa establishes household as stop on Underground Railroad. At 17, Silas guides escaped slaves north.

July 1859 Silas is 10 gathered to rescue fellow Underground Railroad conductor Dr. John Doy, who’d been kidnapped by a Missouri gang in Kansas and taken back to Missouri, where he was imprisoned. The “Immortal Ten” broke him out and returned him to Kansas.

Feb. 1860 Silas travels to Charles Town (then Virginia), gets himself arrested for brawling, and is put in jail, where he connects with two of John Brown’s lieutenants, planning to break them out of prison. They turn him down, to be martyrs.

1860 Silas then went to Boston, where he met with abolitionists and became friends with Walt Whitman

Late 1860 Silas and older brother William go to Colorado, digs for gold, blacksmiths.

Dec. 1861 Silas enlists in 1^st Colorado Infantry

March 1862 Involved in the New Mexico Campaign, including the Battle of Glorieta Pass.

Sept. 1864 Silas is part of the Camp Weld Council among native tribes, U.S. Army, and territorial officials. Major Edward Wynkoop is there, as is militia commander John Chivington.

Nov. 1864 Silas given command of Company D, 1^st Colorado Cavalry Regiment

Nov. 29, 1864 Sand Creek Massacre, Sand Creek, Colorado.

Dec. 14, 1864 Letter to Major Edward “Ned” Wynkoop

Dec. 19, 1864 Lt. Joseph A. Cramer letter to Wynkoop

Jan. 1865 Testifies before two Army inquiries in Denver and Congress’ Joint Committee on the Conduct of the War.

April 1, 1865 Marries Hera Coberly

April 23, 1865 Killed by Squier (or Squires), believe to be a henchman of Chivington.

2010 Historic marker placed, 15^th& Arapahoe, Denver, where Silas was killed.

Autobiography of Wm. L. G. Soule

I have been asked, several times, to write some of the incidents of my early life and of the adventures which I have had, which are not particularly romantic, but some of my friends think may be interesting. Well, I will jot down some of the things I can remember of my early life.

I was born at Bath [Woolwich], Maine, on the banks of Kennebec river and my earliest recollections are of going to a private school kept by Miss Robb who, I imagine, found me somewhat incorrigible, but she managed to teach me to read and write and, I think, punished me properly for my sins of omission and commission which no doubt I deserved. I had a bow and arrows which my father made for me, and one day I was so thoughtless as to shoot through a window, breaking a six by eight [inch] pane of glass. This was unfortunate as it banished my bow and arrows from the schoolroom and made me pay more attention to my studies. I think I may have been rather quarrelsome for I recollect being in frequent battles with the boys who called me names, and insulted my curls which mother took pains to keep properly curled when she sent me to school or when I went to see Grandma or Aunt Lydia Glass whose son, Sam, was my crony and with whom I had many a battle and I generally got the worst of it for Sam, living n a farm, was huskier than a pampered city chap; but I liked him the best of all my acquaintances.

My father was looked on as a crank, as all reformers were in those days. He was an abolitionst and a temperance reformer and spent a good share of his time lecturing on anti-slavery and temperance. He was an admirer of Wm. Lloyd Garrison and Neal Dow* and when I was seven or eight years old, had me join the Sons of Temperance. He was also a Whig and when Wm. Henry Harrison ran for president, had me march in the procession carrying a flag with “Tipacanoe and Tyler too” inscribed upon it. When I was about ten years old, Father took up the community of socialist ideas of having everything in common, and with several other (so-called Fanatics) established the Wolf Point Community and moved with them to a farm on Wolf Point near Freeport, Maine.

There for three years we lived a life that must have been bitter for Mother and the other women for there several families lived in one house and ate at the common table and everything was owned in common. I walked two to school as did the other children, and not a house between the home and school house, and thick spruce and hemlock trees for the whole distance. The life on Wjolf Point finally became unbearable to the members and one by one the families returned to civilization, leaving father and our folks to carry on the farm and pay the rent, which must have been a pretty severe trial. I remember one winters day father was sick and the interest on money borrowed to start the community had to be paid. So I was sent to Bath to pay it. It was about sixteen miles and I had to walk through the snow all the way which took me all day, and darkness overtook me before I reached Grandma’s. I remember the next morning when I went to the bank to pay the money the banker told me that my father was “a crazy fool to let the others leave and to have to pay all the bills,” and I was to tell him so; but I don’t believe I did for I thought father was having all the trouble he needed. Finally father gave up the place and we moved to Chelsea, Mass. where we began to live again and I finished my school education in the Chelsea High School, and then went on to Boston to learn the printer’s trade with Weir and White at No. 19 Washington Street just where Cornhill united with it. While learning the trade I boarded at home in Chelsea, going and coming on the [W ????] ferry boat except when the harbor was frozen over, then I walked on the ice. After two years in the office the firm failed and I went to New York where an uncle was publishing the “Pathfinder”, afterwards he published the “American Reading Guide.” I boarded with him in Wiliamsburg on Long Island. We traveled back and forth on the ferry. There were no bridges or subways then. I worked for A. G. Levy, a job printer on Spruce Street and printed cards of one dollar per thousand. But they were so inferior that most customers concluded to take a better quality at 3 to [$] 5.oo a thousand. This was during the California gold excitement and Levy got the fever and started for California by way of Cuba and Hispaniola but caught the Panama fever and returned without getting to California. While working for him, I substituted for a sick journeyman on the New York Tribune (Horace Greely’s paper) but Greely’s writing was so hard to read that I gave it up and when back to job printing. After a little over a year in New York, I wnt back to Maine and worked three years for Geo. Moultor and C. D. Elms, learning the machinist’s trade. Then the Great American Desert was opened for settlement and I went with Father to Kansas [Territory]. This was the summer of 1854. There I went back to printing, and set the first type on the Herald of Freedom, Geo/. W. Brown’s paper, the first paper printed in Kansas, I believe. I took up a quarter section of land on Coal Creek, 7 miles south of Lawrence, but worked on the Herold until the Pro Slavery party raided the office and threw the type and material into the Kansas, or as it was spelled then Kanzas river. I then went to my farm as I called it , a grass covered part of the desert and ploughed and planted about forty acres in corn. We planted that year in the tough sod by chopping a hole in the sod, dropping the corn in the hole made by the axe and covering it by stomping with the heel of my cow hide boots. Before it was ready to gather the Kansas war broke out and we raised a company of settlers and called it the Coal Creek Liberty Guards. Henry Saunders was captain and I was elected First Lieut. We were in Osawatomie, Bull Creek Lecompton, Rock Creek and several other battles and though not to be compared to the Civil War [that followed] or the great war in Europe, it was pretty exciting. We were drilled by Major Topleffe, a French officer, in Zouave drill which proved to be a big protection when it came to fighting Indians as we had to do on several occasions. John Brown raised a company on the Marais Des Cygne near Osawatomie and later was a general [captain] under G. James H. Lane, our commander in Chief.

After nearly four years of strenuous life in Kansas I was desirous for a change and see something of the outside world. I took my riding mule and started for the Indian Territory stopping a several small towns in western Missour and finally reached Taloquah where I stopped a short time with the Rev.

Jones, a Baptist missionary and visited several tribes but was not very well received as they seemed to think that a man from Kansas was likely to steal their slaves. All the tribes held slaves. The chief of the Cherokees had a large number and some were, I thought, more intelligent than their masters. I stayed one night with Chief Stanwaite who wanted and engineer to set up a steam engine for a sawmill. I offered my services but when he learned that I was from Kansas and was from the New England states he wouldn’t trust me. He wanted a Southerner. I then went to Fort Smith just across the Arkansas river and got a printer’s job on the Fort Smith Times where I worked several weeks but the citizens of that town were hostile and one night a committee came to my room and informed me that I must leave town before daylight or “stretch hemp.” I asked the reason and the spokesman said “you are a ‘damned Yankee’.” I told them I was ready to go when I got my pay for the work I had done in the office and after some discussion they with me to the editor’s house and told him to pay me, which [he did] and I crossed the river and got my mule and rode down the river to Dardsville where I stopped a few days with a merchant who told me that he had been notified to leave Arkansas because he was a Yankee but they gave him a month to close his business. I then went to —————- where I sold my mule and got work on the leading paper and had no trouble but as I had enough money to go further, I took a steamboat to the mouth of the river and stopped off at Napoleon but one night there was a sufficient . . . my room in the hotel was over the bar room and about midnight I was awakened by shots below and bullets began coming up through the floor made me decide to leave. I went down and saw the landlord and paid for my room, then took a look int the bar room where the crowd had stopped shooting and were taking out two dead men and three or four wounded ones. When daylight came I went to the levee and found an upriver boat on the way to New Orleans and took passage at once and left Napoleon for good.

It didn’t appear to be a healthy place. At New Orleans I went to work on the Picyune then the leading paper of the south.

* * * * *

I was at my Grandmother’s in Woolwich quite often in my younger days and enjoyed seeing her spinning and weaving She wove all the cloth to clothe her family and for bedding. She raised the flax, rolled, broke and hackled it then spun and wove it. Her youngest son, Silas, [[Not the Silas who was William L. G. Soule’s brother]] raised the flax, sheared the sheep and Aunt Joan carded the wool and made it into rolls but Grandma spun and wove it. At night when Grandma would sit in the chimney corner knitting and smoking ( all the old ladies I knew smoked their pipes but the younger generation were ashamed and would not smoke where [they] could be seen). She would tell us children about the Revolution and the way people lived at that time and how everybody hated the British which was very interesting to us children. They had no stoves then and all the cooking was done in the big fireplace or big brick oven built beside the fireplace. They used to keep a big backlog in the fireplace to keep fire through the night for it was quite a task to build a fire with flint and steel and if the fire went out they would go to the neighbors and borrow a shovel full of coals rather than wait for the slower flint and steel method. I have often been to Captain Harnden’s about a quarter mile distant to borrow fire for Grandma when Uncle Silas was busy. Speaking of friction matches, the first I saw was when I was attending school. Father went to Boston and brought home a bunch of matches that would make fire by rubbing them on a brick or piece of sandpaper. This was so wonderful that I took some of the matches to school to astonish the scholars. The teacher was hardheaded and took them from me as soon as [I] lighted one. She must have told Father for I remember getting a switching and severe talking to for stealing. I think my father considered stealing and lying were sins next to murder. I remember hearing people say that Uncle Silas never told a lie and believed that the Devis would catch anyone who told a lie. But according to his own tale the Devil came out of the water and chases him home for fishing on Sunday.

While I was learning the printer’s trade there was a terrible storm that wrecked the Minot Ledge light house and drowned the men that kept the light. The sea rose and flooded the lower part of Boston so that the custom house was reached in boats. I stayed away from the office to see the sights and with some boys got a boat and rowed to Long Wharf where the water was above the floor in second stories of the buildings. In one building filled with salt in bulk the salt was washing out of the second story windows and above was a big sign, “Salt Afloat,” which I thought funny as the salt was washing from the windows and doors.

At that time Back Bay (now a fashionable part of Boston) was a grand fishing and bathing place or the boys in summer and in winter a fine skating place, and when the boys from the north and the south ends of the city met there a battle took place almost as serious as modern fighting. The “north enders” and the “south enders” were sworn enemies.

While attending school at old academy I had a schoolmate who invited me to spend our vacation at his home near the White Mountains which I gladly accepted and I had a glorious month fishing and hunting and climbing the hills which were called mountains then. We took some pretty long walks from the notch to Rangely Ponds camping out and pretending to be Indians. Since then, I am told, that has become a great summer resort. When the vacation was over and we returned to school and told the boys of our trip they were surely envious and a number of them took the trip on their next vacation.

* * * * *

The Yankee boys are overseas

They’ve gone to fight the Kaiser

Who, if he gets ahead of them,

Will be an early riser.

At first he said they wouldn’t come

His U-boats sure would stop ‘em

And if they came they wouldn’t fight

His huns would surely whip ‘em

But now the hun is on the run

The Yankees are pursuing

And if the Baches stop to fight

‘Twill end in their undoing.

And soon we’ll see the Kaiser’s Gott

Whose acts are ruthless killing

Yield to the God of lasting peace

In spite of all his drilling

The Kaiser soon will have to yield

His allies won’t defend her

The allies will demand and un- Conditional surrender.

Silas Soule: Massachusetts Abolitionist

Fate consigns most people to lives of quiet anonymity, choosing only a favored few to shape an era’s epochal events. In the case of Silas S. Soule, a young Massachusetts abolitionist, fate was unusually fickle. It placed him at center stage for several historic moments, then, as if tired of his presence, killed him before he was 30 and left his name among the soonto- be-forgotten. Soule was born in 1839. His father, Amassa Soule, was a fanatical abolitionist and religious zealot. That combination set the Soule household apart from its neighbors, and Silas spent a great deal of his youth defending himself against charges of being ‘a damned Bobolishionist.’ In 1854, New England abolitionists formed the Emigrant Aid Society to help settle the Kansas Territory and–not incidentally–bring it into the Union as a Free State. Silas’ father answered the society’s call for pioneers, and by the end of the year the Soule family had taken up residence near Lawrence, Kan. Upon the family’s arrival, Amassa Soule immediately established his household as a way station on the underground railroad. Silas, at 15, began escorting runaway slaves from Missouri through Lawrence, and north to freedom.

By the time Silas was 18, Missouri slavers on one side and New England abolitionists on the other had armed themselves and were openly fighting for the territory’s future. The bitter struggle became known as ‘Bleeding Kansas.’ Young Soule quickly learned to handle a ‘Kansas Bible’–the deadly Sharps carbine that abolitionists had sent west in crates marked ‘Bibles.’ He also mastered hit-and-run tactics and became notorious as one of Kansas’ most-feared ‘Jayhawkers.’

In 1859, Soule played a major role in one of the border war’s most celebrated incidents. That January, 20 Missouri bushwhackers, seeking to recover runaway slaves, crossed the border into Kansas. They came upon and captured Dr. John Doy, a Lawrence physician and abolitionist, while he was escorting 12 escaped slaves to Oskaloosa. The slavers took their captives back to Weston, Mo., where they sold the blacks back into slavery and tried Doy, under Missouri law, for helping the slaves escape. Although Doy had not been in Missouri and hence could not have broken its law by helping the slaves, a Missouri jury quickly convicted him, and the judge sentenced him to five years at hard labor. Doy appealed his conviction, but while his lawyers argued the case, he sat in a St. Joseph jail cell. Suspicious of Missouri’s courts, a group of Lawrence men, including young Silas Soule, set out to free the abolitionist physician. When they reached St. Joseph, their leader, Major James B. Abbott, dispatched Soule to reconnoiter the jailhouse. The affable Soule charmed his way into the jail by convincing its keeper that he was carrying a message from Doy’s wife.

Once inside, Soule took careful note of the jail’s layout and of the room where Doy was being held. The jailer, he learned, lived alone and had only one sentry outside to sound the alarm in case of trouble. Soule met with Doy, and while the jailer’s attention was elsewhere, he slipped a note into the doctor’s cell. It said simply, ‘To-night, at twelve o’clock.’

When Soule reported back, the raiders realized their chances of successfully taking the jail by force were slim and changed their plans. At the appointed hour, they approached the building by pretending to have captured a horse thief. They asked the jailer, named Brown, to lock up the man until morning. After some argument, Brown admitted them. Once inside, they quickly disarmed the hapless jailer and freed Doy.

With Doy in tow, the raiders left the jail and headed for the Missouri River, which they intended to cross in boats previously cached for the purpose. At the river’s edge, they discovered one of the boats was leaking. Two policemen walking their beat came along and, not recognizing Doy, obligingly held a lantern while one of the jailbreakers bailed the boat with his hat. When the boat was safe to board, they pushed off, crossed the Missouri and made good their escape.

Within six months of returning Doy to his grateful family in Lawrence, Soule was involved in another, even more daring rescue attempt. John Brown, the fanatical abolitionist, had frequently visited the Soule household in Lawrence during the border wars, bringing runaway slaves for the underground railroad. When Brown failed in his crazed attempt to capture the federal arsenal at Harpers Ferry, Va., on October 18, 1859, Colonel Robert E. Lee captured and delivered him to Charlestown, to be tried by state court. Virginia authorities quickly convicted Brown and, on November 2, Judge Richard Parker sentenced him to hang. The judge ordered that the execution take place one month later, on December 2. Almost immediately after Brown’s capture, some of his New England financial backers began planning his rescue. Richard Hinton, an abolitionist newspaper reporter, knew of Soule’s acquaintance with Brown and his role in the Doy rescue. Hinton traveled to Lawrence, met with Soule and recruited him into the plot. Returning east, the two abolitionists set out to recruit 75 to 100 men, who would take the jail by force. They ran into trouble, however, securing funds. There was also opposition from within the group by those who felt that a direct assault on the jail would surely fail. In response to the problems, the conspirators scaled back their rescue plans and began searching for ways to free Brown through guile and deception. In November, they began converging on Charlestown.

The raiders traveled separately to avoid arousing suspicion. Some passed themselves off as stockmen, others as laborers or land seekers. After going through Harrisburg, Pa., they gathered in Hagerstown, Md., where they made their final preparations.

James Montgomery, commander of the raid, dispatched H.C. Seaman to scout the hills around Martinsburg, Va., where they planned to take Brown after the break-out. Mindful of Soule’s success in the Doy rescue, Montgomery ordered Soule to Charlestown to collect intelligence about Brown’s confinement and the situation within the community.

Soule arrived in Charlestown sometime in mid-November. As he had done in St. Joseph, he managed to get inside the jail where Brown was being held. Exactly how he did this is unknown, although it is believed that local police arrested him for public drunkenness. Once inside, he turned his boyish charm on the jailer, John Avis, and wheedled a meeting with Brown.

His old friend had greatly changed from his Kansas days. Brown’s hair had turned white, and he wore a long beard. The fire had not left his eyes, however, and he still dreamed of freeing the slaves and bringing the Lord’s revenge upon their owners. He had devised a new strategy for destroying the ‘peculiar institution,’ but it did not include his being rescued. He understood the power of martyrdom and was prepared to die if it would bring an end to slavery. He adamantly refused to be saved. Soule had failed in his mission.

Soule drifted back to Kansas, and then to Colorado. In December 1861, he joined Company K, 1st Regiment, Colorado Infantry. On November 29, 1864, he found himself in command of a cavalry company, on a bluff overlooking a peaceful Cheyenne village at Sand Creek, Colo. The 3rd Colorado Volunteers, under the command of Colonel John M. Chivington– a preacher turned bloodthirsty soldier–had been ordered by the politically ambitious territorial governor to conduct a punitive expedition against the Cheyenne. Chivington located the Indian camp at Sand Creek and, notwithstanding its peaceful inhabitants, decided to attack it. Soule argued against the plan, calling it outright murder.

In the end, Soule’s arguments failed and one of the worst massacres in American history followed. Ordered to accompany Chivington, Soule remained steadfast in his opposition to the assault. When the colonel gave the order to charge, Soule checked his men, forbidding them tofire upon the village. Other commanders obeyed Chivington, and their soldiers killed and mutilated more than 200 Cheyenne, mostly women and children. Later, when Chivington publicly branded him a coward, Soule’s men came to his defense, praising his courage in the face of Chivington’s infamous order.

The Sand Creek atrocities shocked the nation, even in the midst of the Civil War. The army convened a committee of inquiry in Denver to investigate Chivington’s actions. Westerners loyal to the ‘fighting parson’ threatened anyone they thought might testify against him, and the hearings were held in an atmosphere of fear and intimidation. Nevertheless, Soule testified forcefully against Chivington. His comments were crucial to the committee’s findings. When the hearings ended, the committee branded Chivington’s raid at Sand Creek ‘a cowardly and coldblooded slaughter, sufficient to cover its perpetrators with indelible infamy, and the face of every American with shame and indignation.’ Soule was not alive to hear the committee’s vindication of his actions.

Following his testimony, there was a disturbance near his home in Denver, where he was serving as the city’s provost marshal. When Soule investigated, he was shot down by Charles W. Squiers of the 2nd Colorado Cavalry, who may have been hired to kill him by forces loyal to Chivington. Squiers eventually fled to California and was never tried for the crime.

Soule’s description of the events at Sand Creek produced a wave of indignation in the East. By the end of 1865, widespread revulsion at the Army’s tactics produced a peace offensive on behalf of the Indians.

Congress derailed the Army’s plans to campaign against the Indians with thousands of troops no longer needed to save the Union. The subsequent Indian wars were brutal enough by anyone’s standards, but the Army did not fight a ‘war of extermination.’ Silas Soule’s testimony had helped save lives.

This article was written by Bruce M. Lawlor and originally appeared

in America’s Civil War magazine.

The Mayflower Society

George Soule traveled on the Mayflower as a servant to Edward Winslow.

His origins are unknown, although research conducted by Caleb Johnson in 2009 suggests the possibility of George, son of William and Joan Soule, who was baptized at Tingrith, Bedford, England, 9 February 1594/95. George married at Plymouth, circa 1626, Mary/Marie Bucket who arrived on the Anne in 1623. Marie’s origins are unknown; she died at Duxbury, in December 1676. George died at Duxbury, between 20 September 1677 and 22 January 1678/79.

George was a signer of the Mayflower Compact, on 11 November 1620 while the ship was anchored at Provincetown Harbor. This tells us he was at least 21 years old, thus born in 1599 or earlier. He received one acre in the 1623 land division as did Marie Bucket. George is listed in the 22 May 1627 cattle division with wife Mary and son Zakariah.

George often served as juror and was frequently on committees for Duxbury as a deputy. In 1637 his name is on the list of those who volunteered as soldiers if the need came up. He was granted a garden place on the “Ducksborrow side” by Powder Point in 1637 and other lands there in 1638. In 1640 he was granted meadow at Greens Harbor.

In 1659, Goodwife Soule, the wife of George Soule of Duxbury, and others, were presented to the court for absenting themselves from public worship; they were fined 10s.

The will of George Soule is dated 11 August 1677, but it is the codicil, dated 20 September 1677 that proves interesting; apparently there was some animosity between son John, and his sister, Patience. The codicil states that if John “disturbed” Patience, then Patience would receive the house and lands at Duxbury, and she would be the sole executrix of his will.

Children of George and Mary (Bucket) Soule:

Zachariah² Soule, born by the 1627 cattle division; died at Duxbury, before 11 December 1663; married before 1663, Margaret ( ) who was possibly the daughter of William Ford; no known issue.
John Soule, born at Plymouth, 8 March 1631/32; died at Duxbury before 14 November 1707; married 1) probably at Duxbury, circa 1656, Rebecca Simmons; they had nine children: Rebecca, James, Sarah, Rachel, Aaron, Benjamin, Zachariah, Moses and John Soule. He married 2) probably at Duxbury, after 3 July 1678, Esther/Hester (Delano?) Sampson/Samson; they had three children: Joseph and Josiah (twins), and Joshua Soule.
Nathaniel Soule, born probably at Plymouth, circa 1637; died at Dartmouth, before 12 October 1699; married circa 1680, Rose/Rosamond Thorn; they had four children: Nathaniel, Silvanus, Jacob and Miles Soule. Note that Nathaniel had a child born circa 1674 by an unknown woman.
George Soule, born probably at Duxbury, circa 1639; died there before 22 June 1704; married circa 1664, Deborah (?Thomas); they had eight children: George, William, John, Nathan, Deborah, Mary, Lydia and Sarah Soule.
Susanna Soule, born probably at Duxbury, circa 1642, (possibly 25 June 1642); died probably at Kingstown RI, after 1684, (poss. at Duxbury, 14 November 1707); married probably Plymouth, circa 1661, Francis Waste/West; they had nine children: Francis, Richard, Peter, John, Susannah, Martha, William, Thomas and Clement (twins) West.
Mary Soule, born probably at Duxbury, circa 1644; died at Plymouth, after 29 April 1718; married probably at Duxbury, circa 1664, John Peterson; they had nine children: John, Joseph, Benjamin, Martha, Jonathan, David, Isaac, Mary and Rebecca Peterson.
Elizabeth Soule, born probably at Duxbury, circa 1646; died between 12 March 1668 and 11 August 1677; married at Plymouth, circa 1667/78, Francis Walker; they had one child: Isaac Walker.
Patience Soule, born probably at Duxbury, circa 1648; died at Middleboro, 11 March 1705/06; married at Middleboro, January 1666, John Haskell; they had eight children: John, Elizabeth, William, Patience, Bethiah, Mary, Josiah and Susannah Haskell.
Benjamin Soule, born probably at Duxbury, circa 1651; died at RI, 26 March 1676, during King Phillip’s War.