KING PHILIP'S WAR.
Oh, there be some
Whose writhed features, fixed in all their strength
Of grappling agony, do stare at you,
With their dead eyes half opened.
And there be some struck through with bristling darts
Whose clenched hands have torn the pebbles up;
Whose gnashing teeth have ground the very sand.
--BAILLIE.
Massasoit kept his treaty with the English inviolate so long as he
lived. He died in 1661, at the advanced age of eighty or ninety years,
leaving two sons whom the English named respectively Alexander and
Philip. Alexander, the eldest son and hereditary sachem, died soon after
his father, when Philip became chief sachem and warrior of the
Wampanoags, with his royal residence on Mount Hope, not far from
Bristol, Rhode Island. He was called King Philip. He resumed the
covenants with the English made by his father, and observed them
faithfully for a period of twelve years.
But it had become painfully apparent to Massasoit before his death,
that the spreading colonies would soon deprive his people of their land
and nationality, and that the Indians must become vassals of the pale
race. Long did the warlike King Philip ponder on these possibilities
with deep bitterness of feeling, until he had lashed himself into a fury
by the continued nursing of his wrath, and resolved to strike the
exterminating blow against the English.
There were many private wrongs of his people unavenged. The whites
already had assumed a domineering manner, and his final resolution was
both natural and patriotic. King Philip was a man of reason, and it is
said he had no hope of success when he began the war. It was a war
against such odds that it must have but one termination, and he had
little if any faith in a successful issue.
The Pokanokets had always rejected the Christian manners, and Massasoit
had desired to insert in a treaty, what the Puritans never permitted,
that the English should never attempt to convert the warriors of his
tribe from their religion.
Repeated sales of land narrowed their domains, and the English had
artfully crowded them into the tongues of land, as "most suitable and
convenient for them," where they would be more easily watched. The two
chief seats of the Pokanokets were the peninsulas now called Bristol and
Tiverton. As the English villages now grew nearer and nearer to them,
their hunting-grounds were put under culture, their natural parks turned
into pastures, their best fields for planting corn were gradually
alienated, their fisheries impaired by more skilful methods, till they
found themselves deprived of their broad acres, and by their own legal
contracts driven, as it were, into the sea.
Mutual distrusts and collisions were the inevitable consequence. There
is no authentic evidence of a deliberate conspiracy on the part of all
the tribes. Bancroft, who is, perhaps, the best authority on all
colonial matters, says the commencement of the war was accidental, and
that "many of the Indians were in a maze, not knowing what to do, and
ready to stand for the English."
There were many grievances among the Indians. The haughty chieftain, who
had once before been compelled to surrender his "English arms," and pay
an onerous tribute, was summoned to submit to an examination, and could
not escape suspicion.
The wrath of his tribe was roused, and the informer was murdered. In
turn the murderers were identified, seized, tried by a jury of which
one-half were Indians, and on conviction were hanged. The younger men of
the tribe were eager for vengeance, and without delay eight or nine of
the English were slain about Swansey, and the alarm of war spread
through the colonies.
King Philip was thus unwillingly hurried into war, and he wept when he
heard that a white man's blood had been shed. It is a rare thing for an
Indian to weep, least of all a mighty chief like Philip; but in the
cloud of war hovering over his people, he read the doom of his tribe. He
had kept his men about him in arms, and had welcomed every stranger, and
yet, against his judgment and his will, he was involved in war almost
before he knew it. The English had guns enough, while but few of the
Indians were well armed and were without resources when their present
supply was exhausted. The rifle, though not in general use, had been
invented many years before, and for hunters and backwoodsmen was an
effective weapon, though it was regarded as "a slow firing gun" compared
with the smooth-bore. Many of the Indians had firearms and were
excellent marksmen, and had overcome their superstitious dread of the
white man's weapons.
The minds of the English are said to have been appalled by the horrors
of the impending conflict, and superstition indulged in wild inventions.
There was an eclipse of the moon at which they declared they saw the
figure of an Indian scalp imprinted on the centre of the disk. The
perfect form of an Indian bow appeared in the sky. The sighing of the
wind was like the whistling of bullets. Some heard invisible troops of
horses gallop through the air, while others found the prophecy of
calamities in the howling of the wolves.
Despite all his aversion to war, Philip found it forced upon him, and
when he took up the hatchet he threw his soul into the issue, and fought
until death ended the struggle. There were many Christian converts among
the Indians, who were firmly attached to the English. One of these, John
Sassaman, who had been educated at Cambridge, where John Harvard had
established a college, was a royal secretary to Philip. Becoming
acquainted with the plans of the sachem, he revealed them to the
authorities at Plymouth. For this he was murdered, and his
murderers hanged.
Soon after the attack on Swansey, Philip left his place of residence and
his territory to the English. The following is the reason of his
precipitate retreat. Additional assistance being needed, the authorities
of Boston sent out Major-General Savage from that place, with sixty
horse and as many foot-soldiers, who scoured the country all the way to
Mount Hope, where King Philip, his wife and child were supposed to be at
that time.
Philip was at dinner when the news reached him of the near proximity of
his enemies, and he rose with his family, officers and warriors and fled
further up the country. The English pursued them as far as they could go
for the swamps, and overtook the rear of the detachment, killing
sixteen of them.
At the solicitation of Benjamin Church, a company of thirty-six men were
placed under him and Captain Fuller, who on the 8th of July marched down
into Pocasset Neck. This force, small as it was, afterward divided,
Church taking nineteen of the men and Fuller the remaining seventeen.
The party under Church proceeded into a point of land called
Punkateeset, now the southerly extremity of Tiverton, where they were
attacked by a body of three hundred Indians. After a fight of a few
moments, the English fell back to the seashore, and thus saved
themselves from destruction, for Church perceived that it was the
intention of the Indians to surround them. Every one expected death, but
resolved to sell their lives as dearly as possible. Thus hemmed in,
Church had a double duty to perform--that of preserving the spirit of
his followers, several of whom viewed their situation as desperate, and
erecting piles of stone to defend them.
Boats had been appointed to attend the English on this expedition, and
the heroic party looked for relief from this quarter; but, though the
boats appeared, the bullets of the Indians made them preserve a
respectable distance, until Church, in a moment of vexation, cried:
"Be off with you, cowards, and leave us to our fate!" The boats took him
at his word.
The Indians, now encouraged, fought more desperately than before. The
situation of the Englishmen was most forlorn, although as yet not one
had been wounded. Night was coming on, their ammunition was nearly
spent, and the Indians, having taken possession of a stone house on the
hill, fired into the temporary barricade of the English; but at this
moment a sloop hove in sight, and bore down toward the shore. It had two
or three small cannon on board with which it proceeded to knock down the
stone house. The sloop was commanded by a resolute man, Captain Golding,
who effected the embarkation of the company, taking off only two at a
time in a canoe. During the embarkation the Indians who were armed with
muskets and rifles kept up a steady fire from behind trees and stones,
and Church, who was the last to embark, narrowly escaped the balls of
the enemy, one grazing his head, and another lodging in a stake, which
happened to stand just above the centre of his breast.
Captain Church soon after joined a body of English and returned to
Pocasset, and Philip, after a skirmish, retired to the swamps, where for
a time his situation became desperate; but at length he contrived to
elude his besiegers, and fled to the Nipmucks, who received him with a
warmth of welcome quite gratifying to the ambitious chieftain.
The governor of Massachusetts sought to dissuade the Nipmucks from
espousing the cause of Philip; but they could not agree among
themselves, and consented to meet the English commissioners at a place
three miles from Brookfield on a specified day. Captains Hutchinson and
Wheeler were deputized to proceed to the appointed place. With twenty
mounted men and three Christian Indians as guides and interpreters they
reached the appointed place, but no Indians were to be seen. After a
short consultation, they advanced a little further, when they found
themselves in an ambuscade. A volley of rifles and muskets was the first
intimation of the presence of Indians. Eight men and five horses fell
dead, and Captain Hutchinson and two more were mortally wounded. The
Christian Indians led the remnant to Brookfield.
They scarcely had time to alarm the inhabitants, who, to the number of
seventy-eight, flocked into the garrison house, when the Indians
assailed the town. The house was but slightly fortified about the
exterior by a few logs hastily thrown up, while inside the house was
padded with feather-beds to deaden the force of the bullets. The house
was soon surrounded by the enemy, and shots poured in from all
directions. The beleaguered English were no mean marksmen, and they soon
taught the Indians to keep at a respectful distance. The Indians filled
a cart with hemp, flax, and other combustible materials, which they set
on fire, and pushed it backward to the building. The beleaguered people
began to pray for deliverance, when, as if in answer to their prayer, a
heavy shower of rain fell, extinguishing the fire, and before it could
be replenished, Major Willard with a party of dragoons arrived and the
Indians raised the siege.
A considerable number of Christian Indians near Hatfield were suspected
of being friendly to Philip and ordered to give up their arms. They
escaped at night and fled up the river toward Deerfield to join Philip.
The English pursued them and early next morning came up with them at a
swamp, opposite to the present town of Sunderland, where a warm contest
ensued. The Indians fought gallantly, but were finally routed, with a
loss of twenty six of their number, while the whites lost only ten. The
escaped Indians joined Philip's forces, and Lathrop and Beers returned
to their station at Hadley.
About the 10th of September, while Captain Lathrop was bringing away
some provisions and corn from Deerfield, he was attacked at a place
called "Muddy Brook." Knowing the English would pass here with their
teams and horses, the Indians lay in ambush and, pouring in a
destructive fire, rushed furiously to a close engagement. The English
ranks were broken, and the scattered troops were everywhere attacked.
Seeking the cover of trees, the English fought with desperation. The
combat now became a trial of skill in sharp-shooting, on the issue of
which life or death was suspended. The overwhelming superiority of the
Indians, as to numbers, left little room for hope on the part of the
English. Every instant they were shot down behind their retreats, until
nearly their whole number perished. The dead, the dying, the wounded
strewed the ground in every direction. Out of nearly one hundred,
including the teamsters, not more than seven or eight escaped from the
bloody spot. The wounded were indiscriminately massacred. This company
consisted of choice young men, "the very flower of Essex County, none of
whom were ashamed to speak with the enemy in the gate." Eighteen were
citizens of Deerfield.
Captain Moseley arrived at the conclusion of the fight, just as the
Indians began stripping and mutilating the dead. He charged the
Indians, cutting his way through with his company again and again, until
he drove them from the field.
The Indians near Springfield, supposed to be friendly, on the 4th of
October became allies of King Philip, whose cause seemed likely to
prevail. They planned to get possession of the fort, but were betrayed
by an Indian at Windsor, and when the savages came they found the
garrison ready to resist them. The savages burned thirty-two houses and
barns, and the beleaguered people were in great distress.
King Philip next aimed a blow at the three towns Hadley, Hatfield and
Northampton at once. At this time, Captain Appleton with one company lay
at Hadley, Captain Moseley and Poole with two companies were at
Hatfield, while Major Treat had just returned to Northampton for the
security of the settlement. Philip with seven or eight hundred warriors
made a bold assault on Hatfield, on the 19th of October, attacking from
every side at the same moment; but after a severe struggle the Indians
were repulsed at every point.
After leaving the western frontier of Massachusetts, Philip was next
known to be in the countries of his allies, the Narragansetts. The
latter had not heartily engaged in the war; but their inclination to do
so was not doubted, and it was the design of Philip to arouse them to
activity. Conanchet, their sachem, in violation of his treaty with the
English, not only received Philip's warriors, but aided their operations
against the English, and Massachusetts, Connecticut and Plymouth raised
an army of fifteen hundred men and, in the winter of 1675, set out to
attack the Indians.
Philip had strongly fortified himself at South Kingston, Rhode Island,
on an elevated portion of an immense swamp. Here his men erected about
five hundred wigwams, of a superior construction, in which was deposited
an abundant store of provisions. Baskets and tubs of corn (hollow trees
cut off about the length of a barrel) were piled one upon another around
the inside of the dwellings, which rendered them bullet-proof. Here
about three thousand Indians had taken up their winter quarters, and
among them were Philip's best warriors.
Governor Winslow of Plymouth commanded the English. A heavy snow had
fallen and the weather was intensely cold; but on December 19, the
English reached the fort and, by reason of their scarcity of provisions,
resolved to attack at once. The New Englanders were unacquainted with
the situation of the Indians, and, but for an Indian who betrayed his
countrymen, there is little probability that the English would have
effected anything against the fort. The stronghold was reached about
one o'clock in the afternoon, and the English assailed the most
vulnerable part of it, where it was fortified by a kind of a
block-house, directly in front of the entrance, and had also flankers to
cover a cross-fire. The place was protected by high palisades and an
immense hedge of fallen trees surrounding it on all sides. Between the
fort and the main land was a body of water, which could be crossed only
on a large tree lying over it. Such was the formidable aspect of the
place, such the difficulty of gaining access to it.
At first the English tried to cross over on the log; but, being
compelled to go in single file, they were shot down by the Indians,
until six captains and a number of men had been slain. Captain Moseley
and a mere handful of men finally rushed over the log and burst into the
fort, where they were assailed by fearful odds. This bold act so
attracted the attention of the Indians that others rushed in. Captain
Church, that indomitable Indian fighter, burst into the fort, dashed
through it, and reached the swamp in the rear, where he poured a
destructive fire into the enemy in retreat. The Indian cabins were set
on fire, and a scene of horror followed. A Narragansett chief afterward
stated their loss at seven hundred killed in the fort and three hundred
more who died of their wounds in the woods.
After the destruction of the place, Governor Winslow set out with his
killed and wounded through a driving snow-storm for Pettyquamscott. The
march was one of misery and distress, and a number of the wounded died
on their march.
On the 19th of February, the Indians surprised Lancaster with complete
success, falling upon it with a force of several hundred warriors. The
town contained fifty-two families, of whom forty-two persons were killed
or captured. Forty-two persons took shelter in the house of Mary
Rowlandson, the wife of the minister of the place. It was set on fire by
the Indians. "Quickly," says Mrs. Rowlandson in her narrative, "it was
the dolefullest day that ever mine eyes saw. Now the dreadful hour had
come. Some in our house were fighting for their lives; others wallowing
in blood; the house on fire over our heads, and the bloody heathen ready
to knock us on the head if we stirred out. I took my children to go
forth; but the Indians shot so thick that the bullets rattled against
the house as if one had thrown a handful of stones. We had six stout
dogs; but none of them would stir. A bullet went through my side, and
another through a child in my arms, and I was made captive, having of my
family only one poor wounded babe left. I was led from the town where my
captors halted to gaze on the burning houses. Down I must sit in the
snow, with my sick child, the picture of death in my lap. Not the least
crumb of refreshment came within our mouths from Wednesday night until
Sunday night except a little cold water."
Mrs. Rowlandson and her child were afterward recovered from the savages.
Shortly after the Lancaster disaster, Captain Pierce, with fifty men and
twenty Cape Cod Indians, having crossed the Pawtuxet River in Rhode
Island, unexpectedly met a large body of Indians.
The English fell back and took up a sheltered position under the river
bank; but here they were hemmed in and fought until all fell save one
white man and four Indians, after killing more than one hundred of
the enemy.
The Christian Indians of Cape Cod showed their faithfulness and courage
in this melancholy affair. Four of them effected their escape and one of
these aided in the escape of the only white man who survived. His name
was Amos, and after Captain Pierce was wounded he remained by him
loading and firing, until it was evident he could do no more. Then he
painted his face black as his enemies had done, and thus escaped.
Another of the Christian Indians pretended to be chasing the white man
who thus escaped with upraised tomahawk. The ruse saved both.
On the 20th of April, an army of Indians made an assault on Sudbury.
The people were reinforced by soldiers from Watertown and Concord. The
Indians drew the Concord people into an ambuscade and only one escaped.
The best Indian warrior makes a poor general. He has no ability to
preserve an organization, and soon calamities began to befall Philip.
They were small at first; but they tended to discourage his followers.
First the Deerfield Indians abandoned his cause, and many of the
Nipmucks and Narragansetts followed. Still, Philip, though he had not
been much seen during the winter, and it is doubtful where he had spent
the most of it, had no intention of abating his efforts against
the English.
In the month of May, 1676, he appeared at the head of a powerful force
in northern Massachusetts. Large bodies of Indians about this time took
up positions at the Connecticut River falls, where they were attacked
and routed by Captain Turner. One hundred were left dead on the field
and a hundred and forty more went over the falls. When Turner retreated
from the field, the Indians rallied, fell on his rear, shot down the
gallant captain and thirty-seven of his men.
On May 30th, Philip, at the head of six hundred men, attacked Hatfield,
but was repulsed after a desperate struggle.
Philip's power was on the wane. He was secure in no place; but his
haughty spirit was untamed by adversity. Although meeting with constant
losses, and among them some of his most experienced warriors, he,
nevertheless, seemed as hostile and determined as ever. In August, the
intrepid Church made a descent upon his headquarters at Matapoiset,
where he killed and made prisoners one hundred and thirty. Philip barely
made his escape, and was obliged to leave his wampum and his wife and
child, who were made prisoners.
Church's guide had brought him to a place where a large tree, which the
enemy had felled, lay across a stream. Church had gained the top end of
the tree, when he espied an Indian on the stump of it, on the other side
of the stream. Church, brought his gun to his shoulder and would have
shot the Indian, had not one of his own Indians told him not to fire, as
he believed it was one of his own men. On hearing voices, the Indian
looked about, and the friendly Indian got a glance at his face and
discovered that it was Philip. The friendly Indian fired, but too late,
for Philip, leaping from the stump, ran down the bank among the bushes
and in a moment was out of sight. Church gave chase to him; but he could
not be found, though they picked up a few of his followers. King
Philip's war had now degenerated into a single man hunt. From this time
on, Philip was too closely watched and hotly pursued to escape
destruction. His followers deserted him, and he was driven like a wild
beast from place to place, until at last he came to his ancient seat
near Pokanoket, when one of his men advised making peace. Philip killed
him on the spot. The Indian thus slain had a brother named Alderman,
who, fearing the same fate, and probably in revenge, deserted Philip,
and gave Captain Church an account of his situation and offered to lead
him to his camp. Early on Saturday morning, August 12, 1676, Church,
with his Indian guide, came to the swamp where Philip was encamped, and,
before he was discovered, had placed a guard about it so as to encompass
it, except at one place. He then ordered Captain Golding to rush into
the swamp and fall upon Philip in his camp, which he immediately did,
but was discovered as he approached, and Philip fled. Having been just
awakened and being only partially dressed, he ran at full speed,
carrying his gun in his hand, and came directly upon the Indian
Alderman, who, with a white man, was in ambush at the edge of the swamp.
"There comes the devil Philip now!" cried the Englishman, raising his
rifle and aiming at the king; but the powder in the pan had become damp,
and he missed fire. Immediately Alderman, whose gun was loaded with two
balls, fired, sending one bullet through Philip's heart and another not
more than two inches from it. He fell upon his face in the mud and
water, with his gun under him.
The death of Philip ended the bloodiest Indian war at that time known in
the New World. A few of his confederates were captured; but there was no
more fighting. Philip's son was sold into slavery in Bermuda. So
perished the dynasty of Massasoit.