In the meantime however part of the Dutch claim had been occupied by

some refugee Englishmen who were determined to stay in America. The

Pilgrims had planted the first permanent settlement on the coast of New

England.

IX

_The Pilgrims Rely on God and Beaver_

The first permanent settlement made by the English on the northern

coasts of America owed its success to traffic in pelts.

Almost from the very beginning in the winter of 1620-21 the Plymouth

plantation was a fur-trading post, depending on beaver and otter skins

for the maintenance of its inhabitants. And, as Edward Channing has put

it, “In the end what saved the Plymouth colony from extinction and gave

the settlers a chance to repay the London merchants for their advances

was a well managed fur trade.”

Governor William Bradford himself recognized that the fur trade was

vital to the survival of his people in New England, saying “there was

no other means to procure them food which they so much wanted and

clothes also.”

This was only too true. Not only did a vicious system of communalistic

enterprise retard the production of food at Plymouth but the merchant

adventurers in England who backed the plantation insisted that

time-consuming agricultural activities be curtailed to a minimum,

promising to send over the needed food. In return for financing the

venture they wanted quick returns that could be gotten only from fish

and fur. Since the Plymouth colonists were never too successful at

fishing, in fact ill equipped for that pursuit, they had to depend on

the export of pelts to keep the merchants happy and to wangle supplies

and trucking goods enough to keep themselves alive.

Even with the help of the fur trade, however, this brave little band

of Brownist Separatists probably would not have survived the rigors of

the climate and the harsh New England coast except for the impelling

religious motive that brought them to America in the first place.

Persecuted for their beliefs and exiled from their homeland, they

had been maintained through many trials by a driving determination to

find sanctuary for themselves and their posterity--a place where they

could live and worship in the way they believed was most fitting in the

eyes of God. First, they fled to Holland, where at Leyden they enjoyed

immunity from interference by the authorities but too much intimacy

with their neighbors. In this their leaders saw a new danger. The

Dutch, they felt, were entirely too neglectful of God’s ordinances, and

the exiles became exceedingly fearful that “their posteritie would be

in danger to degenerate and be corrupted.”

Only in the New World where they would have no near neighbors did

there seem to be a solution to the problem. They thought of going out

to Guiana, and the Dutch even offered to underwrite their passage

to New Netherland to plant a colony there under the auspices of the

States General. But then some of their leaders learned that through the

Virginia Company a patent could be obtained for a private plantation

in America where they could live as Englishmen, yet “as a distincte

body by themselves.” Assured that they might have their own governor,

ordinances and mode of worship, subject only to the general government

of Virginia, they entered into conclusive negotiations with English

merchants to finance the venture.

One Thomas Weston was the leading backer of the proposed plantation,

obtaining the patent through the Virginia Company and promoting the

adventurers’ share of the joint-stock through a company of merchants

which he represented. Although the king balked at giving the exiles

liberty of conscience under his protection he did indicate that he

would not molest them. And of course the Virginia Company, the leaders

of which were mostly Puritan-tinged Genevans at heart, encouraged the

venture from the start, albeit with discretion.

So the business agreements were drawn up and signed and transportation

arranged. This included a stopover in England where the exiles

were joined by a major complement of indentured servants and other

“strangers” hired by Weston. The emigrants were to sail in two

ships from Southampton, but after a false start they settled on the

_Mayflower_ and this little ship put out alone across the sea late in

1620.

The _Mayflower’s_ destination was charted as the general vicinity of

Hudson’s River where a beginning was to be made on selecting a suitable

site for the new English plantation in Virginia. However, a landfall

was made at Cape Cod and, although a course was then actually set for

the mouth of the Hudson, the ship was brought about after navigation

difficulties and hints of mutiny and a decision was made to plant in

New England instead.

This was territory well known at the time of sailing as coming under

the jurisdiction of the proposed Council for New England which was

about to be created as successor to Sir Ferdinando Gorges’ old Plymouth

Company.

Quite likely, William Bradford and other leaders of the expedition

had come to have their doubts about settling in the vicinity of the

Hudson River, a territory in dispute between England and Holland. But

in addition it would appear that before the sailing they had received

secret assurance that Gorges and the reorganized New England company

would welcome a colony planted within their jurisdiction, and that a

proper patent would be no more than a legal formality once the Council

for New England was commissioned. Certainly the chief investor in the

enterprise, Thomas Weston, favored New England. In the final days of

preparation he had expressed a strong preference for New England rather

than Virginia, due he said to the established fisheries and fur trade,

as well as other commercial prospects there.

In any event, when word reached England that the Pilgrims had settled

themselves at Plymouth in New England, no one seems to have expressed

the slightest surprise. Nor is there any record of an explanation

coming from Plymouth--just as if none was thought to be necessary.

All of which would make it appear likely that the planting at Plymouth

was no accident, but premeditated to some extent by merchants of

the New England company in connivance with leading partners in the

adventure. Possibly there was more than a hope that some calculated

incident would bring it about. If so, the navigation difficulties and

threats of mutiny provided incident enough--or excuse enough to satisfy

those not in on the plan!

* * * * *

The savages in and about Plymouth Harbor, so named by Captain John

Smith some six years earlier, did not exactly welcome the _Mayflower’s_

passengers. Their experience with white men had been none too rewarding

over the years and these new arrivals were proving no exception. From

their hiding places the natives watched the very first exploring

parties that came ashore from the ship steal caches of Indian corn and

rifle the graves of the dead.

Small wonder it is, therefore, that almost before the Pilgrims laid

eyes on a savage they were treated to thievery in kind and the weird

shrieks, or war whoops, with which these same “Skraelings” had

challenged the invading Vikings centuries earlier. But when the attacks

came they were easily repulsed by English firearms.

In the meantime, after the landing at Plymouth in that winter of

1620-21, some of the natives were enticed out of hiding by offers

of bright baubles and other gifts. On one occasion “a pot of strong

water” was employed. Then, with thunder-making cannon mounted ashore

to awe their wild hosts, the Pilgrims were finally able to enter into

negotiations for beaver skins and food supplies under a kind of armed

truce.

But the Indians of this section were very poor and very few. A

pestilence originally spread among them by Frenchmen had all but wiped

them out in fact. It was necessary for the Pilgrims to look abroad for

the pelts which they had quickly realized would be their chief means of

support if they were to survive in this strange land.

Beaver skins would pay their debts, buy for them in England the

additional supplies they needed, even serve as a medium of exchange

in obtaining corn and beans from the savages themselves. In the guise

of exploration, therefore, military commerce was commenced as soon as

possible with neighboring tribes along the coast.

In this the diminutive military commander at Plymouth, Captain Miles

Standish, had an invaluable aide--an Indian named Squanto who had come

to the fort and offered his services as ally and interpreter.

Squanto spoke English almost as fluently as the white men. Twice he

had been to England, once having dwelt for some time with a London

merchant. He was first taken there by Captain George Weymouth in 1605.

Returned to his native land nine years later by Captain John Smith,

Squanto had been no more than set free when he was kidnapped along with

some other natives by an English captain named Hunt and sold in the

Spanish slave market at Malaga. However, through the intercession of

local friars, he managed to get to London again. Captain Thomas Dermer

then returned him once more to Cape Cod, not many months before the

Pilgrims arrived.

Finding his own people wiped out by the pestilence, Squanto sought

refuge with a neighboring tribe. But when he learned of the presence

of the Englishmen at Plymouth he went to them, to be gratefully

acknowledged as “a speciall instrumente sent of God for their good

beyond their expectation.”

Guided by this Indian the Pilgrim traders went farther and farther

afield. In September ten armed men sailed up to Boston Harbor in a

shallop and obtained a quantity of beaver from the Massachusetts

Indians. So successful was the barter that the women of the tribe

impulsively removed their beaver coats to exchange them for the bright

baubles of the white men. Giggling maidens, bedecked only with strings

of beads we are told, were left behind by the “sober-faced” Pilgrims

when they sailed away.

By November, when the first “supply” ship, the _Fortune_, arrived from

England, the colony at Plymouth had acquired enough beaver and otter

skins to pack two great hogsheads worth 300 pounds sterling for export.

These pelts represented over sixty per cent of the total value of the

vessel’s return cargo, the remainder consisting of clapboard. By this

one shipment the Pilgrim Fathers estimated they were paying off almost

half of their debt to Weston and his partners and insuring the prompt

return of the additional supplies they so much needed by then.

But unfortunately, as they later learned, the _Fortune_ was intercepted

by a French privateer before she reached England and all her cargo

confiscated!

Long before this first supply ship came to Plymouth the Pilgrims had

been in want of food. Their meal was gone, and other rations were

rapidly dwindling under their communalistic system. But when the ship

arrived it brought only letters of gratuitous counsel from their

merchant backers in England and more “hungrie bellies” to be fed. There

was practically nothing aboard in the way of food and clothing or truck

for barter with the savages.

Already half-starved, the colonists were in really dire straits

as winter approached. Many of them sickened and death stalked the

huts and cottages at Plymouth. With Indian alarms and unaccountable

fires creating a general state of anxiety, fear and suspicion lay

heavy on those who lived. Probably the only thing that prevented a

complete collapse was the diversion brought about by enforced labor on

strengthening the fortifications of the plantation.

Before the first snow, the Narragansett tribe which had not suffered

from the plague boldly sent in a bundle of arrows wrapped in a

snakeskin. It was an open challenge to war. The Pilgrims were plucky

enough to replace the arrows with bullets and send the snakeskin back

to the Narragansett, but they were nevertheless thoroughly frightened

and hastened to palisade their fort and buildings with a strong wall of

high pales.

Relations with the natives was under constant strain. Most of the early

commerce with them for pelts and food was a bloody business. But,

as explosive and unprincipled as was the red-headed little military

captain, Miles Standish, it was Squanto who caused much of the trouble.

It seems that the Indian interpreter was overly ambitious to become a

great sachem and seized on any opportunity to eliminate a red rival to

his pretensions by provoking hostilities. Captain Standish never did

like Squanto, and Bradford himself later stated that the interpreter

“sought his own ends and played his own game, by putting the Indians in

fear and drawing gifts from them to enrich himself, making them believe

he could stir up war against whom he would, and make peace with whom he

would.”

Although some temporary relief in the matter of food could be obtained

from trading and fishing boats off the Maine coast and by other local

expedients, it was plain for all to see that the economy, indeed

the very existence of Plymouth, depended on fur. Fishing had failed

completely as a source of income. Only as a fur-trading post could

the plantation be maintained, for only by the export of pelts could

sufficient supplies and trading goods be obtained and the debt to the

merchant adventurers paid off. So, in the spring of 1622, an expedition

went out once more to the Massachusetts and commerce of a sort was

resumed--along with hostilities. Some few pelts were thus obtained by

the Pilgrims in spite of their almost total lack of trading goods.

But then came a “providence of God.” A trading ship, coasting the

shores from Virginia to New England, came into the harbor with a large

store of English beads and knives aboard.

The captain, however, drove a hard bargain with the desperate

colonists. Shrewdly sensing the situation, he hiked the prices of his

trading goods; in fact, he “would sell none but at dear rates and also

a good quantity together.” The Pilgrims were forced to buy, paying away

their store of coat-beaver at three shillings per pound which, as it

happened, “in a few years after yielded twenty shillings.” Still, by

this means, they were fitted again to barter for beans and corn--and

more beaver.

* * * * *

For the next three or four years the Plymouth plantation was engaged in

hand-to-mouth expedients to squeeze enough revenue from the fur trade

to meet the demands of its economy.

All of this was made the more trying because of the evils of the

communalistic system under which the colony was operated. A first step

toward the private ownership of land was taken in 1623, when each man

was permitted to set a little corn “for his owne perticuler,” but it

was some years before this reform was fully realized. However, of more

concern to the Pilgrims was the increasing pressure from a variety of

English competitors for the fur trade along the coast.

Always a bit disturbing had been the freebooting interlopers who

operated along the coasts, particularly in Maine. These Englishmen,

bartering generously with trinkets, colored cloth and ironware, were

also not averse to trading guns and powder with the Indians, a practice

frowned upon by the king.

Partly because of the trade in firearms, but mainly because the

freebooters were cutting into the monopoly of the august Council

for New England, that body obtained a royal proclamation forbidding

trade in furs and fish without a license. As it turned out however

the merchants were unsuccessful in enforcing the edict. Captain

Francis West, the Admiral of New England, who was sent out to stop the

trespassing returned only to report that he found the traders to be

“stuborne fellows.”

In the meantime a number of patents and licenses were being granted

through the Council for New England along the northern coast.

Ferdinando Gorges and Captain John Mason, as adventurers, were

granted the “Province of Maine,” all the land lying between the

Merrimac and the Kennebec Rivers. As early as 1623 David Thompson,

“a Scottish gentleman,” went out with a few servants and established

a fur-trading post at the mouth of the Piscataqua, near the present

site of Portsmouth, New Hampshire. Said to have been accompanied by

his wife and children, he “built a Strong and Large House, enclosed

it with a large and high Palizado and mounted Gunns, and being

stored extraordinarily with shot and Ammunition was a Terror to the

Indians....” Thompson nevertheless carried on a flourishing business

with the natives for otter and beaver, as did Christopher Levett who

built a fort-like emporium for the same kind of military commerce in

Casco Bay the following year.

More obvious competitors to the Pilgrims had been getting footholds

in the country of the Massachusetts Indians. Samuel Maverick had a

palisaded trading post on Noddle’s Island (East Boston) wherein he

mounted “four murtherers to protect him from the Indians.” Under the

muzzles of these wicked little cannon he drove a most profitable

private trade. And David Thompson himself moved to Boston Bay in 1626,

building a truck house on the island which ever since has been known by

his name.

Although these more or less distant and individual competitors cut into

the Plymouth Colony’s business to some degree, they were not exactly

strangling the economy and they were not neighbors in the bothersome

sense. However, the Pilgrims viewed with real alarm all attempts of

English traders to establish themselves in the near-by lower end of

Boston Bay. That, they judged, belonged to them and was necessary to

their survival as well as their cherished privacy.

Their one-time friend, Thomas Weston, had been the first to try to

plant a trading post there, at Wessagusset, in 1622. Weston, who had

sold out his interest in the Plymouth Plantation, first sent over some

men to trade for his “perticuler,” that is, not for the plantation’s

account. Shortly afterward he obtained a patent to plant a colony of

his own at the lower end of Boston Bay.

The colony his men established at Wessagusset, now Weymouth, was

entirely too close to the Pilgrims for their comfort, not only because

it forthwith severed a major artery of their fur trade but because it

put the pinch on Plymouth for food. Weston’s “rude fellers” were more

interested in consorting with Indian squaws, according to the Pilgrims,

than in grubbing for their own food. Also, disturbingly enough in

itself, these newcomers setting themselves down as near neighbors were

Anglicans.

According to the record the Pilgrims discovered a conspiracy among the

savages to massacre the Englishmen at Wessagusset. Possibly, as some

say, they simply invented the plot. Be that as it may, they rushed to

the assistance of their unsuspecting white neighbors. Then, under the

pretense of joining with the Massachusetts in feasting and trading,

they conducted a surprise massacre of their own among the natives.

During this murderous affair Captain Standish cut off the head of one

Massachusetts brave of some renown for his previous insults to the

Pilgrims and took it back to Plymouth where he stuck it on a pole for

all to see. After that it was much too dangerous for Weston’s traders

to remain at Wessagusset.

The following year Sir Ferdinando Gorges’ son, Captain Robert Gorges,

with a commission from the Council of New England as general governor

of the country brought over some people and occupied Wessagusset as a

fur-trading post. But things did not go well for him either. Gorges

soon abandoned the place and his people scattered, some going to

Virginia. A few, however, remained in the vicinity and set up a trading

post at Nantasket (Hull) which was made permanent by the frequent

addition of discontents from Plymouth.

Still later, in 1625, a shipload of colonists, composed mostly of

indentured servants under the command of a Captain Wollaston, came to

Boston Bay. The captain set up a trading post close by Wessagusset at

Quincy. By 1627 he too had given up. The difficulties, whether of the

Pilgrims’ secret connivance or not, were too great. He gathered up most

of the servants and sailed for Virginia where he sold their indentures

at a very good profit.

Wollaston would have taken all the servants and sold their time if it

had not been for one Thomas Morton. An educated man, a lawyer of sorts

with a bent for both pleasure and profit, Morton saw an opportunity for

greater gains in the fur trade than anyone had yet garnered. His plan

was to sell guns and liquor to the Indians in exchange for skins and to

let the devil take the hindmost.

Appealing to some of the worst rogues among Wollaston’s servants on

the promise that they would prosper Morton conducted a successful

mutiny. After all, who wanted to be sold into slavery in Virginia? Soon

thereafter, with his disreputable associates, Morton set up his own

trading post, calling it “Merrymount,” and commenced his illegal barter

with the Indians to the great consternation of the Pilgrims.

Beaver, otter and valuable deer skins found their way in great

quantities to the new truck house, while Merrymount became “a sort of

a drunkard’s resort and gambling hall” and worse. The jolly host of

Merrymount, revelling in “riotous prodigality,” had a great Maypole

erected for the entertainment of visiting factors who wanted to dance

and frisk with pleasurable Indian maids. Fishing and trading vessels

along the coast much preferred to do business with the open-handed

Morton rather than the close-fisted Pilgrims. Therefore, trading goods

were as easily come by at Merrymount as were beaver skins. Everyone was

quite happy about the situation except the fathers at Plymouth.

Morton had even discovered their profitable new trading grounds

in Maine. The first year the Pilgrims extended their fur trading

operations to Maine, in 1625, they gathered in 700 pounds of beaver

besides some other furs on the Kennebec, mostly in exchange for the

corn they had by then learned to grow at Plymouth. But now Morton was

outbidding them with his more attractive trading goods and getting

nearly everything of value in that vicinity too. The very existence of

the Plymouth Colony seemed to be at stake.

Complaints, cajolings and threats were of no avail. Morton, the

lawyer, was too clever. Something had to be done and force was the

final resort. Captain Standish was sent with some soldiers to arrest

the obnoxious neighbor on the charge that he was violating the royal

proclamation prohibiting trade in guns and powder.

“Captain Shrimp,” as Morton contemptuously called Standish, succeeded

in his mission only after a fight. He captured Morton and took him

to Plymouth. There he tried his best to have the erstwhile “host of

Merrymount” hanged. But in the end Morton’s only punishment was to be

shipped back to England.

As it came about, the Wessagusset area was no sooner eliminated as a

competitor for the beaver trade than the Pilgrims were faced with new

and much more formidable rivals in the same neighborhood. These were

the Puritans, the advance guard of whom arrived at Salem under Captain

John Endicott in 1628. As recruits of the great Massachusetts Bay

Company they were soon coming by the thousands. Under the leadership of

Governor John Winthrop they overran the Boston Bay region. And there

wasn’t much the fathers at Plymouth could do about these new neighbors

except to offer religious advice on the relative merits of Brownism and

Separation.

* * * * *

The local competition for beaver now being almost overwhelming, the

Pilgrims found it necessary to go more and more afield to meet their

required quota of pelts. Excursions north to the Kennebec in Maine

were the most fruitful, not only because there was much fine fur to

be had from the natives there but because trading goods on occasion

could be obtained from fishing and trading ships off that coast. Once,

too, in exchange for corn the Pilgrims picked up four hundred pounds

worth of trucking stuff from some Englishmen who were abandoning their

plantation on Monhegan Island. And they acquired an additional stock of

truck from a French ship which had been wrecked at Sagadahoc.

Pelts and palisades: The story of fur and the rivalry for pelts in early America · 第 8 / 19 段