A boy named Lion Gardiner was born in England in 1599, toward the
end of the reign of Queen Elizabeth. He was strong, active, and
energetic, and as he grew up he was trained to be an engineer.
Like a good many other ambitious young Englishmen of his day, he
took service in the Low Countries,--that is, in what is now
Holland and Belgium,--where the people were fighting against
Spain for their independence. He was employed as "an engineer and
master of works of fortification in the legers [camps] of the
Prince of Orange."
While he was in Holland he received an offer from a group of
English "Lords and Gentlemen" of the Puritan party, who were
interested in colonization in America, to go to New England and
construct works of fortification there. "I was to serve them," he
says, "in the drawing, ordering, and making of a city, towns, or
forts of defence," and "I was appointed to attend such orders as
Mr. John Winthrop, Esq., should appoint, and that we should
choose a place both for the convenience of a good harbour and
also for capableness and fitness for fortification."
Lion Gardiner signed an agreement with them for four years at one
hundred pounds, or five hundred dollars, a year and expenses paid
to America for himself and his family. He was married before he
left Holland and he and his wife sailed for London, July 10,
1635, in a small North Sea bark named the Batcheler. A month
later they left London in the same little ship bound for Boston.
The Batcheler was very small; there were only twelve men and two
women on board, and these two women were Gardiner's wife, Mary
Wilemson, and her maid, Eliza Coles. The voyage was rough and
stormy and lasted nearly three months and a half. When they
arrived in Boston on November 28, the snow was knee-deep, and the
winter set in so cold and forbidding that there was some delay in
carrying out the plans for the new colony. As Lieutenant Gardiner
was an "expert engineer," the people of Boston were glad to take
advantage of his stay with them to employ him in finishing some
fortifications for them on Fort Hill.
In the spring he sailed once more on the little Batcheler for the
mouth of the Connecticut River, where it had been decided to
build the new fort and plant the new colony. This place was
selected partly because of its good harbor, and partly because a
fort here would command the entrance to this "Long, Fresh, Rich
River."
The "Lords and Gentlemen" who planned this undertaking included
Lord Saye and Sele, Lord Brooke, John Pym, and other well-known
men in the Puritan party. They were opposed to the Government in
England both in politics and religion, and at one time, when
matters went strongly against their party, some of them expected
to come to America. It is said that Oliver Cromwell, afterward
Lord Protector of England, and John Hampden, his cousin, were
among this number. It is at least true that Lieutenant Gardiner
was ordered to construct "within the fort" houses suitable for
"men of quality" and to erect "some convenient buildings for the
receipt of gentlemen." The place was named Saybrook for Lord Saye
and Sele and for Lord Brooke. It was not a colony of merchants
like the New Haven Colony, nor of farmers like the Connecticut
Colony; it was a military post, and it was planned as a refuge in
the New World for influential men in public life in England who
might be forced to leave their own country.
John Winthrop, Jr., who was to be the governor of the settlement,
had sent a ship in November with carpenters and other workmen to
take possession of the place and to begin building, but when
Lieutenant Gardiner arrived at the mouth of the Connecticut in
March, he found that not much had been done--only a few trees cut
down and a few huts put up. He set to work at once and built a
fort "of a kind of timber called 'a read oack,'" and across the
neck of land behind the fort he built a "palisade of whole trees
set in the ground."
The fort was on a point of land running out into the river just
above its mouth. There were salt marshes around it, and on three
sides it was protected by water. Dutch sailors had first
discovered this place and called it "Kievet's Hook" from the cry
of the birds (pee-wees) whom they heard there. The Dutch
themselves intended to establish a trading-post here, but they
were driven away by the arrival of the English.
The "Lords and Gentlemen" in England had promised to send
Lieutenant Gardiner "three hundred able men" that spring, to help
him; "two hundred to attend fortification, fifty to till the
ground, and fifty to build houses," but they did not come and he
was greatly disappointed. George Fenwick, acting as agent of the
company, however, arrived to see how matters were progressing at
Saybrook. Fenwick was the only one of the Puritan "gentlemen" who
ever came to New England; for conditions were rapidly changing in
English politics, and their party was soon engaged in a struggle
with the Government that kept all its prominent leaders at home.
But although Lion Gardiner was left without enough workmen and
with few supplies, he made the most of his resources, and his
little fort, built under such difficulties, soon became an
important place because of the protection it gave to the planters
against the Indians.
[Illustration: THE SITE OF SAYBROOK FORT]
He was scarcely established at Saybrook before trouble broke out
with the Pequots, a large and powerful tribe of Indians. There
were wrongs and misunderstandings on both sides, and at last the
Pequots murdered Captain Stone, a Virginia trader, in his boat on
the Connecticut River, and most of the party with him. Not long
after this John Oldham, a Massachusetts trader, was killed on
Block Island. These and other outrages led the Massachusetts
Colony to demand satisfaction of the Pequots and the surrender of
the murderers. Lieutenant Gardiner, in his exposed position, felt
that a war just then would be a mistake, and he sent a protest to
the magistrates of Massachusetts to "entreat them to rest awhile,
till we get more strength here about," he said, "and provide for
it; for I have but twenty-four in all, men, women, and boys and
girls, and not food for them for two months unless we save our
cornfield, which could not be if it came to war for it is two
miles from our house. I know, if you make war with these Pequots,
myself with these few you will leave at the stake to be roasted
or for hunger to be starved; for Indian corn is now twelve
shillings per bushel and we have but three acres planted. War is
like a three-footed stool; want one foot and down comes all, and
these three feet are men, victuals, and munition; therefore,
seeing in peace we are like to be famished, what will be done in
war? Wherefore I think it will be best only to fight against
Captain Hunger."
But the Massachusetts people did not take his advice. Instead,
they sent out an expedition under Captain Endecott, to punish the
Pequots. This expedition burnt the Indian wigwams and cornfields
on Block Island, and also in the Pequot country near the mouth of
the Pequot, or Thames, River; and Captain Endecott and his
soldiers came to Saybrook Port and made that place their
headquarters, "to my great grief," said Gardiner, "for you come
hither to raise these wasps about my ears and then you will take
wing and flee away."
His prophecy came true, for the expedition returned to Boston
without having accomplished anything except to enrage the Indians
still further and to make the position of the little garrison at
the fort more difficult than ever.
Even before this they had found it dangerous to trade with the
Indians. About the time that Gardiner sent his protest to
Massachusetts, a Saybrook man, Thomas Hurlburt, had a narrow
escape from death in the Pequot country, where he had gone with a
trading party, and he was only saved by the kindness and
compassion of an Indian woman. He stepped into the sachem's wigwam
to inquire about some stolen horses. While he was there, the
Indians having for some reason left him alone for a moment, the
sachem's wife, Wincumbone, came back and made signs to him
secretly that the men were planning to kill him. "He drew his
sword," ran to his companions, and barely got aboard the boat in
time.
"This caused me," says Lieutenant Gardiner, "to keep watch and
ward, for I saw that they plotted our destruction."
From this time on the fort was almost besieged by Indians who lay
in ambush around it, watching and waiting for a chance to attack
any of the garrison who might venture out.
One day two men were "beating samp at the Garden Pales," not far
from the fort, when the sentinels called to them to run in
quickly because a number of Pequots were creeping up to catch
them. "I, hearing it," says Gardiner, "went up to the redoubt and
put two cross-bar shot into the two guns that lay above, and
levelled them at the trees in the middle of the limbs and boughs.
The Indians began a long shout, and then the two great guns went
off and divers of them were hurt."
These "two great guns" were two pieces, of three inches each, by
which the fort was defended.
"After this," writes Gardiner, "I immediately took men and went
to our cornfield to gather our corn, appointing others to come
with the shallop [the boat] and fetch it, and I left five lusty
men in the strong house I had built for the defense of the corn.
Now, these men, not regarding the charge I had given them, three
of them went a mile from the house, a-fowling; and having loaded
themselves with fowl, they returned. The Pequots let them pass
first, till they had loaded themselves, but at their return they
arose out of their ambush and shot all three; one of them escaped
through the corn, shot through the leg, the other two they
tormented."
An equally cruel fate befell a trader named Tilly, who was taken
alive by the Indians and tortured. Tilly came from Massachusetts
Bay and was going up the river to Hartford. When he landed at
Saybrook, as all travelers were obliged to do, he saw a paper
nailed up over the fort gate with orders that no boat going up
the river should stop anywhere between Saybrook and Wethersfield.
These orders were put up by Lieutenant Gardiner because a boat
with three men well armed in it had lately been captured by the
river Indians. Tilly, however, refused to obey, and quarreled
with Gardiner. "I wish you, and also charge you," said Gardiner
to him in reply, "to observe that which you have read at the
gate; 'tis my duty to God and my masters which is the ground of
this, had you but eyes to see it; but you will not till you feel
it." Tilly went up the river safely, obeying orders; but coming
down, when he was about three miles above Saybrook, he went
ashore with only one man and carelessly fired off his gun. The
Indians, hearing it, came up, captured him, and carried him away.
Gardiner called the spot where this happened "Tilly's Folly."
It was a winter of great responsibility and danger for Lieutenant
Lion Gardiner, and all his courage and good sense were needed to
carry him safely through it. Once he was himself wounded by
Indian arrows and nearly lost his life. On the 22d of February,
he "went out with ten men and three dogs, half a mile from the
house, to burn the weeds, leaves, and reeds upon the neck of
land" behind the fort, when, suddenly, four Indians "started up
out of the fiery reeds," and the sentinels he had set to watch
called to him that a great many more were coming from "the other
side of the marsh." The Indians attacked his party, killed three
or four men, and tried to get between the rest and the fort and
cut off their return. "They kept us in a half-moon," says
Gardiner, "we retreating and exchanging many a shot... defending
ourselves with our naked swords, or else they had taken us all
alive.... I was shot with many arrows, but my buff coat preserved
me, only one hurt me." The English soldiers of those days wore
back and breast pieces of steel over their buff coats. A few days
later, the Indians, believing Gardiner dead, came again and
surrounded the fort, and, as the old record says, "made many
proud challenges and dared the English out to fight," but
Gardiner ordered the "two great guns" set off once more, and the
Indians disappeared.
Finding the fort at Saybrook so well defended, the Pequots fell
upon the settlement at Wethersfield, killed a number of men
working in the fields, and carried off two young girls. Flushed
with this success, they paddled down the river in their canoes
and when they passed the Saybrook fort they set up poles, like
masts, in the canoes and, by way of bravado, hung upon them the
clothes of the Englishmen whom they had murdered. The men in the
fort fired on the canoes, but the distance was too great. One
shot just grazed the bow of the boat in which were the two young
English girls. The Indians passed safely and carried their
captives with them to the Pequot country.
The Connecticut men now determined to put a stop to the
depredations of the Pequots. It was a serious undertaking, for
there were only about two hundred and fifty Englishmen in all
Connecticut at this time, and there were several hundred Pequot
warriors. Help was asked from the colonies in Massachusetts, and,
meanwhile, about ninety men were collected from the three
settlements of Hartford, Wethersfield, and Windsor and sent down
to Saybrook under the command of Captain John Mason. A number of
friendly Indians also went with them, and chief among these was
Uncas, sachem of the Mohegans.
While this expedition was at Saybrook, taking counsel with
Lieutenant Lion Gardiner and making ready, a Dutch boat put in at
the fort on its way to trade in the Pequot country. The officers
at the fort were unwilling to let the boat proceed, for there
were articles on board for trade with the Indians that might be
useful to the latter in war time, such as kettles, out of which
the Indians could make arrowheads. The Dutch, however, promised
that if they were allowed to go on they would do all in their
power to obtain the release of the two captive English girls. So
they were given permission and they sailed for the Pequot River.
There the master of the boat went ashore and offered to trade
with the Indians.
"What do you want in return for your goods?" asked the Pequot
sachem.
"The two English maids," answered the Dutchman.
But the sachem would not consent. After a time, however, the
Dutch captain succeeded in enticing several of the principal
Indians on board his boat, and, having secured them there as
hostages, he called to the others on shore that if they wanted
their men returned they must bring the two young girls. "If not,"
said he, "we set sail and will turn all your Indians overboard in
the main ocean so soon as ever we come out." The Pequots refused
to believe him until the boat was actually under way and sailing
down the river; then at last they yielded, gave up the two
English girls, and received the seven Indians in return.
These two poor little girls reached Saybrook in a sad condition,
worn out and frightened. The Dutch sailors had kindly given them
their own linen jackets because the girls had lost most of their
clothes, and Lieutenant Gardiner paid ten pounds out of his own
purse for their redemption. The Indians seem, on the whole, to
have treated them well. They were saved from death at first by
the pity and intercession of Wincumbone, the same chieftain's
wife who once before had saved Thomas Hurlburt. She took care of
them, the girls said, and they told how "the Indians carried them
from place to place and showed them their forts and curious
wigwams and houses, and encouraged them to be merry." But they
could not be very merry, and the elder, who was sixteen, said
that she slipped "behind the rocks and under the trees" as often
as she could to pray God to send them help. The Dutch governor
was so much interested in their story that he sent for the girls
to come to New Amsterdam (later New York), that he might see them
and hear them tell of their adventures. At last, after all these
journeyings, they were sent back safely to their homes in
Wethersfield.
Soon after this, Captain Mason and his company set out from
Saybrook on their expedition against the Pequots. After burning
the Indian fort at Mystic, in which many women and children lost
their lives, and killing several hundred Pequot warriors, they
returned victorious. They reached the bank of the Connecticut
opposite Saybrook at sunset, too late to cross the river that
night, but they were welcomed by a salute from the guns of the
fort; "being nobly entertained by Lieutenant Gardiner with many
great guns," as Captain Mason expressed it. The destruction of
the Pequots relieved Saybrook Fort from danger and secured the
safety of the colonists in Connecticut; there was never again any
serious trouble with the Indians. But the story is a cruel one,
and we can only forgive it when we remember that the settlers
felt that their own lives, and the lives of their wives and
little children, were in constant danger from the attacks of the
savages.
When the four years of his contract were ended, in the summer of
1639, Lieutenant Lion Gardiner left Saybrook Fort, which he had
defended so bravely, and went to live on an island he had bought
from the Indians. This island, still known as "Gardiner's
Island," is at the end of Long Island and must have been very
remote in those days, and far from any white neighbors. But
Gardiner was on the best of terms with the Long Island Indians,
and between him and their sachem, Waiandance, there was a true
and generous friendship, founded on mutual respect and trust,
which lasted throughout their lives. When Waiandance died, in
1658, Gardiner wrote, "My friend and brother is gone, who will
now do the like?" It is a noble record of friendship between a
white man and an Indian.
About the time that Lieutenant Gardiner left the fort, George
Fenwick, who had come to Saybrook once before, in 1636, came
again and brought his wife, Lady Fenwick. She was Alice Apsley,
the widow of Sir John Boteler, and was called "Lady" by courtesy.
They lived in Saybrook for a number of years. An old letter of
that time says that "Master Fenwick and the Lady Boteler [his
wife] and Master Higginson, their chaplain, were living in a fair
house, and well fortified." In 1644, Fenwick, as agent, sold
Saybrook to the Connecticut Colony. The next year Lady Fenwick
died and was buried within the fort. Her tomb can be seen to-day
in the old cemetery on Saybrook Point, to which it was removed in
l870.
Although when the Pequot War was over Saybrook was no longer
exposed to constant attacks from the Indians, yet, for a woman
brought up as Lady Fenwick had been, in ease and comfort, life
there must have been full of hardship. But she made no complaint.
All that we know of her is good and charming. She loved flowers
and fruits and had her gardens and her pet rabbits. She brought
with her some red Devon cattle which she gave to Mr. Whitfield in
Guilford. She has left behind her a memory of gentleness and
kindness that still cling to the story of the rough, little
pioneer fort, set in the midst of the salt marshes and surrounded
by savage neighbors:--
"And ever this wave-washed shore
Shall be linked with her tomb and fame,
And blend with the wind and the billowy roar
The music of her name."
One more fact deserves to be remembered in connection with
Saybrook. Yale College was organized there in 1701 as the
"Collegiate School" of the Connecticut Colony, and was not
removed to New Haven until sixteen years later. Its site in
Saybrook is marked now by a granite boulder with a tablet and
inscription. About half a mile west of this monument are two old
millstones which are said to have been in use in the gristmill
belonging to the first little fort at Saybrook, the "Fort on the
River," which was built and defended by the "Brave Lieutenant
Lion Gardiner."
[Illustration: SIGNATURE AND SEAL OF LION GARDINER]