The Pilgrims of New England - Mrs. J. B. Webb
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In this he judged truly; for, though Edith was greatly exhausted after
this strong excitement, yet she passed a tranquil night, and was so
much recovered on the following morning as to be able to converse
composedly with her kind friends. The fever had passed away; and the
sense of restored happiness, joined to youth and a naturally good
constitution, had a rapid effect in renovating her strength and
spirits, and recalling a faint bloom to her cheek.
Before the Indian set out on his return to Seacomb, she insisted on
seeing him, and herself delivering to him a letter to Roger, in which
she had carefully avoided all mention of her illness. She made
numerous inquiries of him relative to her husband's health and present
situation; and charged him to convey her packet safely, and tell his
employer that he had seen her and his child well and happy. She could
say this with truth; for so rapidly had she recovered, that the
inexperienced eye of the Indian could detect no remaining indisposition
in the slight and graceful form of the interesting pale-face, or any
trace of disease in the bright eye that smiled so kindly upon him.
He departed with the friends of Williams, and earnestly did his wife
wish that it had been possible for her to accompany them, and join her
husband at once. But this could not be; and she could only endeavor to
regain her strength, so as to be able to proceed to Plymouth, as soon
as the promised vessel arrived. In due time it came: and bidding her
kind and devoted friends an affectionate farewell, Edith and her child
embarked, with all the little property that remained to her, and soon
found herself once more beneath the peaceful roof of her parents.
Until she arrived at Plymouth, she was not aware of the fresh trial
that had befallen her husband, in being compelled to abandon his
settlement at Seacomb, and remove into the Narragansett district. This
change was distressing to her, as it net only placed the lines of her
future habitation at a greater distance from her parents and friends at
New Plymouth, but also removed it further from all civilized life, and
into a district inhabited by a tribe whom she had learnt to dread from
her childhood, as the rivals and foes of the friendly Wampanoges.
Still these considerations did not, in any measure, abate her eagerness
to fellow Roger, and take her part in all his toils and anxieties. The
winter had passed away, and, though far from genial, the weather was
more tolerable for travelling; and Edith resolved to set out.
All the arguments and entreaties of Helen and Rodolph to induce her to
delay her journey for some months, were ineffectual. Her husband lived;
and he was suffering hardship--and could she remain separated from him,
now that her own strength had been restored? The only concession she
could be persuaded to make, was to wait until some friend from Plymouth
was found to accompany her. Gladly would her father have done so; but
he was suffering so severely from the ague that so often attacked the
settlement in the spring months, as to be perfectly incompetent to
attempt the toilsome journey. No vessel could now be procured, and it
was on foot that Edith proposed to traverse the wide extent of
wilderness that stretched between Plymouth and Roger's place of refuge.
Two faithful and active Indians were appointed by Mooanam to be her
guides, and to carry the infant which she would not consent to leave
behind her; and, in order that this might be accomplished with greater
facility, Apannow provided her with one of the Indian cradles--or,
rather, pouches--in which the red squaws so commonly carry their young
children on their backs. This was thickly lined with soft and elastic
bog-moss, and well adapted to the purpose for which it was designed.
All was prepared, and the impatient Edith only waited for a companion
from among her own countrymen, who were all so much occupied at that
busy season as to feel little disposed to undertake so long a journey.
But she found one at length who was sufficiently interested in her
happiness, and that of her husband, to leave his home and his
occupations, and offer to be her protector. This was the excellent
Edward Winslow, who had been her father's constant friend ever since
their first emigration, and who bad also learnt to know and value Roger
Williams, during his residence at Plymouth.
With such a companion, Edith felt she had nothing to fear; and her
anxious parents committed her to his care with greater confidence than
they would have done to that of any other protector. His natural
sagacity, his courage, and his knowledge of the Indians and their
language, rendered him peculiarly suitable for the enterprise; and his
warm friendship for Rodolph and all his family, and the lively powers
of his pious and intelligent mind, ensured to Edith both a kind and an
agreeable fellow-traveler.
Nevertheless, it was not without many prayers and tears that Helen saw
her daughter once more leave her childhood's home, and commence her
journey. But Edith's spirits were joyous, and her hopes were high; and
her child lay smiling contentedly in its strange nest, which was slung
on the shoulders of one of the Indian guides. The other carried a
small stock of provisions, and other necessaries, and thus the little
party set forth.
We will rot follow them, day by day, in their fatiguing journey; but
merely state that its length and difficulty exceeded even the
expectations of Edith and her companion; but never damped the
persevering courage of the former, or drew from her a complaint, or a
wish to return. She only felt that every step, however rough and
toilsome, carried her nearer to the object that was dearest to her on
earth; and this conviction supported her when otherwise her strength
must have failed.
Sometimes an Indian wigwam afforded her rest and shelter; but,
frequently, a bed of dry leaves, and a roof of boughs, were the best
lodging that Winslow and the Indians could provide for her and her
little infant. Happily the weather was calm and mild, and the season
sufficiently advanced to enable the Indians to find a quantity of
nutritious roots, which, with the meal, or nokake, that they carried
with them--or procured from the natives by the way--formed the chief
subsistence of the party. Occasionally, their fare was improved by a
wild turkey, or wood duck; or, perhaps, a squirrel or hare, that Winslow
brought down with his gun; but often the day's journey was performed
with no other refreshment than a few spoonsful of dry meal, and a
draught of cold water, until something more nourishing could be procured
at their place of repose for the right.
Roger Williams was standing one evening on the bank of the river, or
rather, arm of the sea, called Seacock, near the spot where he had
first landed, and to which he had given the name of 'What Cheer?' He
was examining the landing-place, and contriving some means of turning
it into a sort of harbor for canoes that belonged to the settlers in
his new village, when his attention was attracted to the other side of
the river, by hearing his own name loudly called by native voices. He
looked to the spot, and saw two Indians plunge into the water, and swim
rapidly towards him: and, as they did so, he also observed two other
figures emerge from a grove of trees that reached nearly to the eastern
brink of the inlet.
The distance was considerable, but Roger's keen eye could discern that
one of them was a female form; and, as they approached nearer to the
water's edge, and the rays of the evening sun fell brightly upon them,
he also saw that the arms of that graceful and familiar form carried an
infant.
'Surely it is an illusion!' he exclaimed. I have so long pictured to
my mind that blessed sight, that at length my fancy seems realized. It
cannot be!'
But again his name was called--not now with an Indian accent, but in
the manly English tones of Edward Winslow 'Bring down a canoe, Roger!'
he shouted across the Water. 'Edith and your child cannot swim this,
arm of the sea.'
It was then true! Edith--his beloved wife--was there and only that
narrow inlet divided them! The Indians had sprung to the shore, and
were waiting his directions, to go in search of a canoe; but for a few
moments he did not regard them, so riveted were his eyes, and all his
senses, on the opposite shore. But now he remembered that only by means
of a boat could he attain that shore; and making a signal of wild joy
and welcome to Edith, he hurried up the creek with the Indians, and
rapidly unloosed the moorings of his canoe, which lay securely behind a
projecting rock. He leaped into it, leaving the natives on the shore,
and paddled the canoe swiftly down the creek, to the spot where Edith
stood waiting to receive him, trembling with agitation and joy.
When the first burst of emotion, at this, long-desired meeting with his
wife and hitherto unknown child, had subsided, Roger warmly welcomed
the friend who had so kindly protected them during their long journey,
and brought them to the wild spot that was now his only home. He then
led them to the canoe, and, with Winslow's assistance, soon rowed them
to the other side, and conducted them to his, infant settlement.
The huts were indeed erected, and covered in with shingle roofs; but
their appearance promised little of outward comfort to Edith. Yet an
inward joy and satisfaction were now permitted to her, which, at one
time, she had never hoped to enjoy again on earth; and all externals
were as nothing when compared with this. Nevertheless, she exerted
herself with all a woman's taste and skill to arrange the simple
furniture of the hut, and even to add a something of decoration; and
both her husband and Winslow wondered at the improvement which she soon
effected in the appearance of the dwelling, and the ingenuity with
which she converted the rudest materials into articles of use or
ornament.
Her joyous spirits, and active moments, gave a life and animation to
the hitherto dreary scene; and Roger felt that he had, indeed, in her a
helpmate, who would cheer the loneliest situation, and shed a grace and
charm ever poverty itself.
Winslow appreciated all her excellent and amiable qualities very highly
also; and yet he lamented the lot of both his friends, who had to
endure, in this comparative solitude, all the struggles, and all the
hardships, that the Pilgrim Fathers had once encountered, and had now
conquered.
But the visit of this, 'great and pious soul,' as Roger described
Edward Winslow, very greatly cheered the heart of the exiles. He
remained for many weeks in the new settlement; and only left it when
the advance of the season warned him that the short Indian summer was
drawing to an end. A vessel which arrived at that time from Plymouth,
and which brought the wives and families of several of the settlers,
afforded him the means of returning by sea, and avoiding the tedious
land journey. He departed, with the thanks and blessings of his
friends, to convey to Edith's, parents the happy intelligence that she
was both well and happy, and that it was evident her cheerful spirit
had power to sustain her through every difficulty by which she might be
surrounded.
CHAPTER XXII.
'Epictetus says: "Every thing hath two handles." The art of taking
things by the right handle, or the better side--which charity always
doth--would save much of those janglings and heart-burnings that so
abound in the world.' ARCHBISHOP LEIGHTON.
For a long period an unbroken peace had subsisted between the English
settlers and the native tribes. But this could no longer be maintained,
and a succession of petty injuries and mutual misunderstandings brought
about a state of hostility that the Pilgrim Fathers had labored--and,
generally, with success--to avert.
Their kind and equitable treatment of the Indians had not been, as we
have had occasion to show, adopted by the later emigrants, and doubt
and suspicion had taken the place of that confidence and respect with
which the red men had soon learnt to regard the settlers of New
Plymouth.
The recent colony of Connecticut, which was composed of bands of
settlers from Plymouth and Massachusetts, and also a few Dutch
planters, first came into hostile collision with the natives. The
settlers of New Plymouth had entered upon an almost deserted land;
those of Massachusetts had ensured to themselves safety by their
superior strength; and those among the Narragansetts were protected
from injury by the friendly feelings of the neighboring Indians. But
the settlement of Connecticut was surrounded by hardy and hostile
races, and could only enjoy security so long as the mutual hatred of
the native tribes prevented them from uniting against the intruders.
In the extreme west of the Narragansett district, and near the entrance
of Long Island Sound, dwelt a powerful division of the Pequodees; of
that race of red warriors whose pride and ambition caused them to be
both feared and hated by the other tribes in the vicinity. They could
bring upwards of seven hundred warriors into the field, and their
Chief, Sassacus, had, in common with almost all the great Indian
Sagamores, a number of subordinate chiefs, who yielded to him a certain
degree of obedience. The Narragansetts were the only tribe that could
at all compete in strength with the fierce and haughty Pequodees; and
their young Chieftain, Miantonomo, was already regarded by Sassacus as
a dangerous rival.
Such was the feeling that existed among the tribes near the settlements
of Connecticut, when an event occurred that disturbed the peace of the
whole community. Two merchants of Virginia, who had long dwelt in
Massachusetts, and who were engaged in trafficking with the Connecticut
settlers, were suddenly and treacherously attacked by a party of
Pequodees, and, with their attendants, barbarously murdered. And
shortly afterwards another trader, named Oldham, met the same fate,
being assassinated while he was quietly sleeping in his boat, by some
Indians who had, but an hour before, been conversing with him in a
friendly manner. This latter murder did not take place actually among
the Pequodees, but on a small island belonging to the Narragansetts,
called Block Island. But the inhabitants denied all knowledge of its
perpetration, and the murderers fled to the Pequodees, by whom they
were received and sheltered. A strong suspicion, therefore, lay on
them as being guilty of the latter crime, as well as the former.
The government of Massachusetts immediately resolved on punishing the
offenders, and a troop of eighty or ninety men were sent off to Block
Island, to seek for the murderers. The natives endeavored to oppose
their landing; but, after a short contest, they fled, and hid
themselves in the woods. For two days the Boston soldiers remained on
the island, burning and devastating the villages and fields, end firing
at random into the thickets, but without seeing a single being. They
then broke up the canoes that lay on the beach, and sailed away to the
country of the Pequodees to insist on the guilty individuals being
delivered to them and, on this condition, to offer peace. But neither
the murderers nor their protectors were to be found. All had fled to
the forests and the marshes, whither the English could not follow
them, and they merely succeeded in killing and wounding a few
stragglers, and burning the huts that came in their way.
This fruitless expedition rendered the Pequodees bolder than ever, and
the neighboring towns were harassed by their nightly attacks, and,
notwithstanding all their precautions, and the patrols that were set on
every side, the savages fell on the whites whenever they were at work
in the distant fields. They slew the men with their tomahawks end
dragged their wretched wives and daughters away to captivity; and thus,
in a short time, thirty of the English settlers had become the victims
of their fury. Meanwhile, messengers were sent to Plymouth and
Massachusetts, to implore their aid, and the latter state promised two
hundred soldiers, and the former forty, which were as many as its small
population could afford.
The Pequodees, dreading the power of the English, endeavored to move
the Narragansetts--who had from the most distant times been their
rivals and enemies--to join them in an offensive and defensive alliance
against the white men, whom they represented as a common foe to the
Indians, and the future destroyers of their race.
This intended confederation was discovered by Roger Williams, who spent
much of his time in visiting the Indian villages and instructing the
natives, with all of whom he obtained a remarkable degree of influence.
This noble-minded and truly Christian-spirited man immediately seized
the opportunity of repaying with benefits the heavy injuries that he
had received from the Massachusetts; and, with an admirable magnanimity
and self devotion, he set himself to prevent the dangerous alliance.
The government of Massachusetts were well aware that Williams was the
only man who could effect this desirable object; and, on hearing from
him of the schemes of Sassacus, they immediately requested the former
victim of their unjust persecution to employ his influence with the
natives for the benefit of his countrymen: and well and zealously be
complied with this request. He left his now comfortable home, and all
the various employments that occupied his time, and travelled
restlessly from place to place, defying the storms and the waves, in a
miserable canoe; and meeting, with an undaunted courage, the assembled
parties of hostile tribes whom he sought, at his own extreme peril, to
bring into alliance with the English. He succeeded in his patriotic
object, and, after along doubtful negotiation, he persuaded the
Narragansetts to refuse the proffered coalition with the Pequodees.
Their young chief, Miantonomo, even went a journey to Boston, where he
was received with distinguished marks of honor and respect, and signed
a treaty which allied him to the settlers against his own countrymen.
The troops from the river-towns assembled together, and went down the
Connecticut to attack the Pequodees in their own land. Their numbers
were but small--not exceeding eighty men--as each town furnished a much
weaker force than had been promised. But they were joined by a band of
the Mohicans, a hardy race inhabiting the valleys of the Connecticut,
and who had been alienated from the Pequodees by the oppression and
arrogance that had excited the enmity of so many other tribes. The
combined forces of the English and Indians were placed under the
command of Captain Mason, a brave and intelligent officer who had
served in the Netherlands under General Fairfax.
The detachment that was expected from New Plymouth was not ready to
march at the time of the troops taking the field. Captain Standish,
therefore, did not set out himself; but he allowed such of his brother-
soldiers as were ready, to precede him, and take part in the
commencement of the campaign. Among these, Rodolph Maitland, who still
retained all the fire and energy of his youth, was the foremost; and he
led a little band of brave companions to the place of rendezvous. The
learned minister Stone--the friend and colleague of Hooker--accompanied
the troops from Boston; for a band of Puritanical warriors would have
thought themselves but badly provided for without such spiritual aid.
The instructions of the government of Connecticut directed Mason to
land in the harbor of Pequod,[*] and thus attack the Indian forces on
their own ground. But he found the natural strength of the place so
much greater than he expected, and also observed that it was so
watchfully guarded by his enemies, that he resolved to pass on to the
harbor in Narragansett Bay; and, after having strengthened his forces
with the warriors promised by Miantonomo, to attack the Pequodees from
thence. A circumstance occurred here that is so characteristic of the
time, and of the manners of the Puritans, that it must not be omitted.
The officers under Mason were dissatisfied with this alteration in the
plan of the campaign, and asserted that the instructions given to the
commander ought to be literally followed. It was, therefore, resolved
to refer the question to the minister, who was directed 'to bring down
by prayer the responsive decision of the Lord.' Stone passed nearly the
whole night in prayer and supplication for wisdom to decide the matter,
and the next morning declared to the officers that the view taken by
their leader was the right one; on which they all submitted without a
murmur.
[Footnote: Now Newhaven]
The Indian reinforcements continued to increase. Miantonomo brought two
hundred warriors, and other allied tribes joined them on their march,
until the number of native auxiliaries amounted to five hundred. In
these Mason placed little confidence, and would gladly have awaited the
arrival of the forty men from Plymouth, who were already at Providence
on their way to join him. But his men were eager to attack the savages,
and the Indians taunted him with cowardice for desiring to delay the
conflict; and he was forced to advance at once.
The great strength of the Pequodees consisted in two large forts, in
one of which the redoubted Chief, Sassacus, himself commanded. The
other was situated on the banks of the Mystic, an inconsiderable river
that runs parallel to the Connecticut. These Indian forts or castles
consisted of wooden palisades, thirty or forty feet high, generally
erected on an elevated situation, and enclosing a space sufficiently
large to contain a considerable number of wigwams for the aged men--or
whiteheads--and the women and children.
These two fortresses were the pride and the confidence of the
Pequodees, who believed them to be invulnerable; as, indeed, they had
hitherto found them to the assaults of their own countrymen. And the
other Indian tribes appeared to hold them in the same estimation; for
when they found that it was Mason's intention to march directly to the
fort on the Mystic, their courage failed completely. They were only
accustomed to the Indian mode of warfare, which consists in secret
attacks and cunning stratagems; and the idea of braving the terrible
Pequodees in their strongholds, overpowered their resolution. The very
warriors who, only the day before, had boasted of their deeds, now were
crest-fallen, and cried out, 'Sassacus is a God; he is invincible!' and
they deserted in troops, and returned to their own dwellings. Thus the
English found themselves deprived of at least a hundred of their
Narragansett allies. The rest remained with them, as did also the
Mohicans; but their fear of the Pequodees was so great, that Mason could
only employ them as a sort of rear-guard.
Meanwhile, these haughty Indians were exulting in their supposed
security, and indulging in songs and feasting. They believed that the
English were terrified at their strength and reputed numbers, and had
fled from the intended place of landing in Pequod harbor in fear, and
had abandoned their enterprise altogether. They, therefore, amused
themselves with fishing in the bay; and then inviting their allies to
join their revels, they passed the night in vaunting of their own great
actions, and defying the cowardly whites.
We have seen that their assuming arrogance had aroused the jealousy and
hatred of most of the neighboring tribes; but there were still a few
who adhered to their cause, and were willing to unite with them against
the British intruders. Among those, none were more powerful or more
zealous than the Nausetts--that tribe which had so greatly harassed and
annoyed the first settlers at Plymouth, and which still retained the
same feelings of enmity that had then influenced them. The presence of
Henrich among that portion of the tribe that was governed by Tisquantum
had, indeed, secured to himself the respect and regard of almost the
whole community; but it had not weakened the strong prejudice that
they, as well as the main body of their tribe, entertained against his
race, or lessened their ardent desire to rid the land of the powerful
invaders.
Sassacus was well acquainted with the sentiments of his Nausett allies,
and he had lost no time in securing the co-operation of the Sagamore of
the tribe, as soon as he knew that the British troops were preparing to
attack him, and he had, also, dispatched a swift messenger to meet
Tisquantum and his warriors, and entreat them to use all possible
expedition to join him in his own fortress, and assist in defending it
against his enemies.
With the present position and intended movements of Tisquantum's party,
the Pequodee Chief was perfectly conversant; for there was one in his
castle who was acquainted with the plans of the Nausetts, and had only
left their councils when their camp was pitched on the banks of the
great Missouri.
This individual had reasons of his own, besides his wish to strengthen
his countrymen against the English, for desiring the presence of
Tisquantum's warriors in the approaching contest. He hoped to place
Henrich in such a position, that he would have no alternative but
either to lead the Nausetts against his own people or to excite their
distrust, and even hatred, by refusing to do so. He expected, and
wished, that he should adopt the latter course; for he knew that he had
himself still many secret adherents in the tribe, who would gladly make
this an excuse for withdrawing their allegiance from the white Sachem,
and bestowing it on him; and thus, at length, the long-sought object of
his restless ambition might he attained. And then--then revenge!--that
burning passion of his soul--might quickly be also satiated!