I wrote an AI-assisted ABC Biography of my 3rd great-grandmother Hannah (Sawtell) Hildreth in ABC Biography of #37 Hannah (Sawtell) Hildreth (1789-1857) Of New England based on my genealogical sketch of her life.
1) Based on the genealogical sketch, I requested Anthropic Claude Sonnet 4 to create a memoir written by Hannah (Sawtell) Hildreth talking about her life in 1855. The prompt was: Please write a memoir for Hannah (Sawtell) Hildreth, based on the attached genealogical sketch, as she might tell to her grandchildren in 1855.
The AI Anthropic Claude Sonnet 4 memoir (lightly edited for accuracy) is:
Hannah's Memories
As told by Hannah (Sawtell) Hildreth in 1855
Come sit by me, dear ones, and let me tell you the story of my life, for I am now sixty-five years old and have seen much in this world. I want you to remember where you come from and the paths that brought us all together here in Townsend.
I was born Hannah Sawtell on a cold November day in 1789 in Brookline, New Hampshire, the first child your great-grandfather Josiah and great-grandmother Hannah (Smith) Sawtell would have. Nine more children followed after me—Josiah, Mary, Chester, Esther, Horace, Neuma, Walter, and little Price. What a houseful we were! Mother had her hands full with all of us, but she managed with grace and a firm hand when needed.
Those early years in New Hampshire were simple but good. Father worked the land, and we children learned early the value of hard work. We all had our chores—tending the animals, helping with the harvest, minding the younger ones. I was the eldest, so much of the care of my brothers and sisters fell to me, which prepared me well for the large family I would one day have myself.
When I was eleven, in 1800, we moved to Mason, New Hampshire, where Father thought the prospects might be better. But it was not to last long. By 1804, when I was fifteen, Father had his eye on land in Massachusetts—in Townsend, where rich soil promised better farming. So we packed up everything we owned and made our way south to this place that would become my true home.
Townsend was a bustling little town even then, with good people who welcomed our family. I was twenty years old and still unmarried when I met Zachariah Hildreth. He was a fine young man, seven years my senior, with kind eyes and steady hands. Born right here in Massachusetts in 1783, he knew the land and the seasons, he worked as a farmer and a cooper, and he made me laugh with his gentle ways.
We began keeping company, and by September of 1810, we had made our intentions known to the town. I remember how nervous I felt when Zachariah went to record our intention to marry on September 5th. But by October 21st, we stood before Reverend David Palmer and became husband and wife. I was twenty-one, full of hopes and dreams for the life we would build together.
Oh, what a life we built! Nine children the Lord blessed us with, each one precious beyond measure. Our first was Aaron, born in March of 1811, such a beautiful boy. Then came our little Clarissa in 1814—my heart, she was my heart. When we lost her at just five years old in 1819, I thought the grief would break me entirely. To bury your own child... there are no words, dear ones. But the Lord works in mysterious ways, for just four months later, He blessed us with another daughter, whom we also named Clarissa in honor of her sister's memory.
James came in 1817, such a strong boy, followed by our second Clarissa in 1820. Then Elizabeth in 1822—such a spirited girl, always into something! Milo arrived in 1824, Moses in 1828, Edward in 1831, and finally our sweet Harriet Augusta in 1835. Nine children in twenty-four years! How the house rang with laughter and tears, with the sounds of growing and learning and living.
Zachariah was a wonderful father and provider. He made barrels and worked the farm with dedication, and by 1850 we had built up considerable property worth a thousand dollars—a good sum for farming folk like ourselves. We raised our children to work hard, to be honest, and to love the Lord. Most have married well and given us grandchildren to cherish.
But oh, my dears, life has not been without its sorrows. We buried our first little Clarissa when she was just five, and five years ago, in 1850, we lost our youngest, Harriet Augusta, at only fourteen years old. She had been such a bright scholar, attending school right up until the end. To lose two daughters... well, a mother's heart never quite heals from such wounds, but faith carries us through.
Now, as I sit here at sixty-five, I look around this house and see the life we've built. What joy it brings me to see how our family has grown! Our Aaron has blessed us with five grandchildren, and James has given us six living children to cherish, though we have mourned some of his little ones who were called home too soon. Our dear Clarissa has three children who are the light of her life, and Elizabeth, married to David Wilder, sadly lost three babies of her own but has her precious Nancy who brightens our days whenever she visits.
Some of our children have moved away to make their own ways in the world—Milo, Moses, and Edward have married and are establishing themselves as fine young men. But knowing that our family tree continues to grow and flourish, that there are now fifteen living grandchildren carrying our name and our blood forward, fills this old heart with such pride and gratitude. Though we have also said goodbye to some of our youngest grandchildren who were too precious for this world, we trust they wait for us in the arms of the Lord.
I want you children to remember that life is both precious and fragile. Love each other fiercely, work hard, trust in the Lord's plan even when it's difficult to understand, and never forget that you come from people who faced hardship with courage and who built something lasting with their own hands.
Your grandmother Hannah came from New Hampshire to Massachusetts with nothing but hope and determination. Your grandfather Zachariah has made a good life for us all through honest work and faithful devotion. And now it's your turn to carry this legacy forward, to write the next chapters of our family's story.
Remember us kindly, dear ones, and know that all our struggles and joys have led to you sitting here today, blessed with the love of family and the promise of tomorrow.
—Your loving grandmother, Hannah Sawtell Hildreth, Townsend, Massachusetts, 1855
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Hannah (Sawtell) Hildreth died 13 January 1857 at age 67 and was buried in Hillside Cemetery in Townsend with her husband, Zachartiah, who also died in 1857. Her sons Milo, Moses, and Edward married and had a number of children. All in all, Zachariah and Hannah (Sawtell) Hildreth had 27 grandchildren in all, but 14 of them died before adulthood.
2) I think that these relatively short memoirs are poignant and would be interesting to his family members, especially to her descendants, and even to her 3rd great-grandchildren.
This format provides a different perspective than a biography, doesn't it? It is historical fiction, but many of the historical facts from the genealogical sketch are included and it rings true to me.
I will write more of these AI-assisted memoirs or life memories as told by my ancestors as time goes on. This is great genealogy fun for me!
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