THE HEART OF MASSASOIT
It was not long after this until the war-cloud darkened in the sky.
There had come sudden messages to James Brown and Hugh Cole of Swansea.
They were from the better heart of King Philip.
"The land air is fire; protect yourselves. I would help you, but I
cannot restrain my young braves now. The young warriors burn; I must
mount my black horse, and I give you warning. My heart is true to all
who have been true to Philip."
Such in effect was the message. These men warned others. In a short
time, on a Sabbath day, several men were killed in the green groves of
Swansea by the Indians, near the place where is now the water-works on
the Kickemuit, or Serpentine.
Timid Susan heard the terrible news from James Brown and Hugh Cole, and
also that these men were protecting themselves, and that James Brown
was hiding his valuables. The well is still shown near Touissit Station
where he hid his brass kettle, and with the well is associated a dismal
tale.
Timid Susan trembled.
"What will Little Metacomet do now?" asked Roger.
"He will be as true to us as Philip has been to Mr. Brown and Mr.
Cole, and as he always has been to Mr. Blaxton, Father Eliot and Roger
Williams. An Indian never harms his friend."
A strange figure appeared in the road, shy, fantastic.
"Who is that, Roger?"
"A barkeater."
Susan looked at him in alarm.
The Indian came toward the door, beckoning. He was painted and plumed.
"There are hawks in the air," said he, the usual words meaning war.
"Little birds should take to the bushes. I bring you a word from Little
Metacomet; his heart is true to his friends. He says again, the young
chief, he says that if you are in danger he will seek you out, and
if he should be in danger, he wants you to find him. The places in
the world where hearts are true to each other have no war. The young
chief's heart is true."
He uttered the thoughts in crude and broken words.
"Tell Little Metacomet that we love him," said Susan to the barkeater.
"Whatever comes, I cannot forget that child's heart. He has the heart
of Massasoit."
What was the heart of Massasoit?
It is pleasing to try to answer this interesting question, for the
answer pictures what is best and noblest in Indian history.
Few things so reveal the Indian nature as the conduct of Massasoit, or
Massasowat, on the occasion of the second visit of Edward Winslow to
Sowams, to the great sachem.
As soon as Massasoit began to recover from his sickness, under the
treatment of the English, his heart overflowed with gratitude.
Let us present this incident in Winslow's own words.
"That morning he caused me to spend in going from one to another
amongst those that were sick in the town, requesting me to wash their
mouths, and give to each of them some of the same broth I gave him,
saying that they were good folk. This pains I took with willingness,
though it were much offensive to me. After dinner he desired me to
get him a goose or duck, and make him some pottage therewith, with as
much speed as I could. So I took a man with me, and made a shot at a
couple of ducks, some six score paces off, and killed one, at which
he wondered. So we returned forthwith, and dressed it, making more
broth therewith, which he much desired. Never did I see a man, so low
brought, recover in that measure in so short a time.
"About an hour after, he began to be very sick, cast up the broth, and
began to bleed at the nose, and so continued the space of four hours.
Concluding now that he would die, they asked me what I thought of him.
I answered, his case was desperate, yet it might be it would save his
life; for if it ceased in time, he would forthwith sleep and rest,
which was the principal thing he wanted.--Not long after, his blood
stayed, and he slept at least six or eight hours. When he awaked, I
washed his face and bathed and suppled his beard and nose with a linen
cloth. But on a sudden, he chopped his nose in the water, and drew up
some therein, and sent it forth again with such violence, that he began
to bleed afresh. Then they thought there was no hope; but we perceived
it was but the tenderness of his nostril, and therefore told them. I
thought it would stay presently, as indeed it did.
"The messengers whom I had sent to Plymouth for chickens for new broth
were now returned; but finding his stomach come to him, he would not
have the chickens killed, but kept them for breed.
"Many, whilst we were there, came to see him; some, by their report,
from a place not less than a hundred miles. To all that came, one of
his chief men related the manner of his sickness, how near he was
spent, how his friends the English came to see him, and how suddenly
they recovered him to this strength they saw. Upon this, his recovery,
he brake forth into these speeches:
"'Now I see the English are my friends, and love me; and whilst I
live, I will never forget this kindness they have showed me.' At our
coming away, he called Hobbamock, an interpreter, to him, and privately
revealed the plot before spoken of, against Master Weston's colony,
and so against us, saying himself also in his sickness was earnestly
solicited, but he would neither join therein, nor give way to any of
his. With this he charged him thoroughly to acquaint me by the way,
that I might inform the Governor thereof, at my first coming home.
Being fitted for our return, we took our leave of him; who returned
many thanks for our Governor, and also to ourselves for our labor and
love; the like did all that were about him. So we departed.
"That night, through the earnest request of Conbatant, who till now
remained at Sowams, or Puckanokick, we lodged with him at Mattapuyst.
Here we remained only that night, but never had better entertainment
amongst any of them. The day following, in our journey, Hobbamock, told
me of the private conference he had with Massasowat, and how he charged
him perfectly to acquaint me therewith, as I showed before; which
having done, he used many arguments himself to move us thereunto. That
night we lodged in Namasket, and the day following, arrived at home."
The simple story of this chicken broth, as we gather it from this
narrative, indicates that a benevolent service to the Indian races in
the right spirit might have changed the Indians into citizens, and
made useful people of them. The work of the Mayhews among them on
the Islands had this influence, as did the efforts to civilize the
Stockbridge Indians.
Philip had at times the heart of the great Massasoit, and at other
times the revengeful feelings of a savage. Susan saw only one side of
his nature, and well did she hope that even yet she would not hear the
war-whoop.