“If anyone can do it, you can.”

In 1675, Gov. John Winthrop, Jr. asked Thomas Stanton (1615-1677) to use his influence to avert the King Phillips War, a conflict brewing among New England colonists and Native Americans. Winthrop’s confidence in Thomas was well placed; Thomas’s track record of forging respectful relationships with indigenous peoples and his fluency in the Algonquin languages had earned him the position Interpreter General for the New England Colonies. Thomas, who at this point was a sick old man, couldn’t prevent the conflict, but when he was in a reflective mood, he could look back on a life of accomplishment.

Thomas was one of Hartford’s original settlers and a founder of Stonington. He operated a trading post on the Pawcatuck River where he enjoyed exclusive trade rights with the Indians. He also traded with the West Indies, and two of his sons were shipbuilders. Thomas’s extensive landholdings were scattered throughout southeastern Connecticut and Rhode Island. Around 1670, he built a house for one of his sons that still stands, the oldest one in Stonington. (The home Thomas built for himself near his trading post was demolished in the 1800s for a road project.)

Thomas was an interpreter during the Pequot War (1636-1638). At risk to his own life, he arranged a short cease fire at the Fairfield Swamp Battle and negotiated the safe release of 200 non-combatant Pequots. Thomas was a participant in the treaty that ended the war, and over the years protested the excessive reparations levied against the Pequots.

He earned a reputation among the Pequots and Mohegans for being a fair-minded man. Uncas, the Mohegan sachem, and Thomas developed a friendship that lasted 40 years. Although last will and testaments weren’t part of the indigenous culture, Uncas asked Thomas to write his will. Uncas, along with three of his men, came to Thomas’s home (not the 1670 dwelling) to make the will; the occasion was followed by three days of celebrating with the Stantons.

After Thomas’s death, the house he’d built in 1670 passed through several generations, and by the mid-1700s was in the hands of his great-great-grand son, Robert Stanton. Robert owned enslaved people who slept in the attic, enduring seasonal conditions of bitter cold and broiling heat. Chalk drawings on the attic ceiling, which are still visible today, may be the artwork of some of these men and women. Out in the yard there’s a 442-pound boulder that Venture Smith, one of Robert’s brother’s slaves, is said to have lifted. Venture, who was known for his great strength, was a remarkable man. He eventually bought his freedom and authored his autobiography, which describes the Stanton family’s cruel treatment of him.

In 1772, financial problems necessitated the sale of the homestead. It was purchased by John Davis and remained in a long line of his descendants through the 20th century. During the Revolutionary War, these Yankee farmers provided hay for George Washington’s horses, and cheese, meat, and veggies for the Continental Army. In the whaling era, Davis farm products fed hungry sailors. Until his death in 2016, John Davis, AKA Whit, the homestead’s last private owner, was a regular presence at local farmers markets. Whit had worked the land since he was 11 years old and was proud that the farm had produced a harvest every year since 1654.

Like Thomas Stanton, Whit enjoyed close ties with Native Americans. In 1991, he and the Connecticut River Powwow Society hosted a Reburial Ceremony on the farm, where indigenous remains, which had been unearthed by an archaeologist against the Davises’ wishes, were respectfully reinterred. Whit always attended the Mohegans’ annual Wigwam Festival, taking johnnycakes and heirloom white flint corn to share with the celebrants. In a fitting coda to a centuries’ old cross-cultural friendship, the Mohegans agreed to preside at his funeral.

In 2004, 12 years before his death, Whit’s desire to preserve this property resulted in the establishment of the Stanton Davis Homestead Museum as a non-profit corporation. The house was in urgent need of restoration, but real progress is being made. The board of directors reports that major projects are underway to reconstruct the entire structural roof support system and rebuild the 1760 cheese room. With the conclusion of these activities, the house will be structurally sound, and other important restoration projects can be undertaken. Public tours of the property will resume a little later this year, offering us the opportunity to see a national treasure that’s right here in our own backyard.

I’m glad because when I volunteered there years ago, this amazing time-capsule made my head spin. In fact, you can credit (or blame) it for ratcheting up my enthusiasm for local history.