A LITTLE DISCIPLINE.
"And how sped you in your errand, Master Envoy?" inquired Standish as,
lighted pipe in hand, he once more seated himself upon the bench outside
his cabin door to enjoy the sunset hour.
But at the sudden question John Alden's face flushed deeper than the
sunset, and he stammered, "I am so blundering, Master--I told the maiden
all you bade me, but--but"--
"But what, thou stammering idiot!" roared the captain, his serene brow
suddenly overcast, and the red surging up to his own brow. "Dost mean to
say the girl flouted the suit of--nay, then, what dost thou mean? Speak
out, man, and be not so timorous!"
"Here is Giles Hopkins!" exclaimed John, as feet were heard running up
the hill, and the captain angrily turned to meet the new-comer,
shouting,--
"Well, what dost thou want, youngster? Is a man never to be rid of
half-wit boys in this place!"
"Please, Captain, the governor desires you to come in haste to a sudden
Council. The Indians are come in, and methinks"--
"And who in Beelzebub's name cares what thou thinkst!" shouted the
captain. "Begone before I box thy malapert ears." And driving the lad
before him he strode down the hill without another word or look at John,
who grinding his heel into the turf muttered,--
"And now he's angered, and beshrew me if I could not find it in my heart
to wish Priscilla had said him yea, rather than nay. It were easier to
bear her scorn of me if I knew that he was content. 'T is not so hard to
suffer loss if a dear friend gains by that same loss."
Meantime Standish striding wrathfully down the hill met Priscilla as she
darted out of the door of the elder's house. At sight of him she stopped
short, coloring scarlet, and yet her whole face gleaming with a wicked
inclination to laugh.
The captain also hesitated a moment, and then removing his barret cap
with a bow whose stately courtesy recalled his lineage he said,--
"Pardon me, Mistress Molines, for what it seems was undue presumption.
May I ask if the Council is convened here or at the Common house?"
"At the Common house, Captain; but indeed and by my faith I know not"--
"Pardon if I venture to cut you short, Mistress, but I am summoned in
haste to the Council."
And with another formal bow the captain hastened on, leaving Priscilla
biting her lip and staring after him, half angry, half amused. "One
could be proud of him--if--if--Oh heart, heart! What is 't thou 'rt
clamoring for! Well--at least I can go and make a posset for my dear
dame, and the rest may wait." And with a sigh and a smile and a blush
the girl turned back to the things of the hour.
"Now here's a coil, Captain!" exclaimed Bradford as Standish entered the
large room where about a dozen of the men of the colony were assembled
in informal council, while in the midst stood Hobomok, his red skin
streaming with perspiration and stained with travel, while his usually
impassive face bore an expression of genuine grief and dismay.
"What is it? Ha, Hobomok returned alone!"
"Yes, and with evil tidings," replied the Governor. "He and Squanto
reached Namasket early this morning and sought to conceal themselves in
a house belonging to Squanto, though now lent to a kinsman. But some one
betrayed them to Corbitant, who was vaporing around the village calling
upon the men to rise in revolt against Massasoit and deliver him up to
the Narragansetts, and saying that we white men should all be slain, and
also those who have made alliance with us, for already he had news of
our visit to Nauset, and the contract made with Aspinet, and Canacum,
and Iyanough. While yet he raved against Squanto, and Hobomok, and
Tockamahamon, a traitor told him that the two first were hiding in the
village, and he swore a great oath by all his gods that they should die,
especially Squanto, in whom, said he, the white men will lose their
tongue"--
"What meant he by that, Governor?" demanded Warren.
"Why, that he is our interpreter," sharply replied Standish. "What else
should he mean? What next, Governor?"
"Next they circumvented Squanto in his cabin, and Corbitant seizing him
held a knife to his throat, mocking and taunting him as is their
fashion, while two fell upon Hobomok, but he being a lusty fellow and
quick, broke from them and fled hither so fast as legs could carry him.
You see the condition he is in."
"And left thy comrade to die!" ejaculated Standish looking scornfully at
the Indian, who humbly replied in his own tongue,--
"Hobomok only one man. Corbitant many men. Squanto perhaps dead, but the
white man will send a hundred of his enemies to be his servants in the
Happy Land. A brave fears not to die, if he may be avenged."
"Ha! 'T is the savage philosophy, and not a bad one," said Standish, and
although the elder raised stern eyes of rebuke upon the reckless soldier
he continued,--
"And I shall lead our forces to avenge both the death of our servant and
Massasoit's capture, shall I not, brethren? What is your will?"
"Sound policy dictates that if our allies are to respect us, or our
enemies fear us, we should not suffer such an affront as this to pass,"
declared Winslow. "England hath never yet borne that her flag should be
insulted, and we are Englishmen."
"You are right, Winslow," replied Bradford solemnly. "And loth though we
may be to shed the blood of these men, whom we fain would convert to
friends and Christians, it is my mind that in this instance we are bound
to deal with them as with our own children, whom we indeed chastise, but
still with an eye to their own future happiness."
"'Now no chastening for the present seemeth to be joyous but grievous:
nevertheless afterward it yieldeth the peaceable fruit of righteousness
to them which are exercised thereby,'" quoted the Elder sententiously,
while Standish stood impatiently twisting his moustache, and glancing
around the assembly as if selecting his men.
"And now, having chapter and verse for avenging this affront, let us set
about doing it," exclaimed he as several of the company murmured Amen to
the Elder's approved quotation. But Bradford fixed his steady eyes upon
the soldier's face for a moment before he somewhat coldly asked,--
"How many men do you think it best to take, Captain Standish?"
"Ten. Hopkins, the Surgeon, Winslow, Browne, Howland, Gilbert Winslow,
Billington, Eaton, Dotey, and Lister," replied Standish promptly, and
then with his peculiarly winning smile he added,--
"You see I leave the governor, with Master Allerton his assistant, to
guide the colony, and the elder to pray for our success, and Master
Warren for a councilor, and the rest to carry on our various labors and
protect the weaklings."
"It is a good division it seemeth to me. What say you all, brethren?"
asked the governor still gravely, and one by one each man signified his
assent, only Howland coming close to the captain asked,--
"May not Alden go with us, Captain? He hath a very pretty fashion with
his weapon."
"Am I captain, or art thou, John Howland?" growled the leader, and as
all turned out of the house to prepare for the march in the following
dawn, Bradford laid his hand upon his friend's shoulder and walked along
with him.
"What ails thee, Myles? Thou 'rt sorely chafed at something. Is aught
amiss that I can help?"
"Nay, Will, 't is naught, and less than naught. 'T is but a new
knowledge of mine own unworthiness. Sure 'never such a fool as an old
fool' is a good proverb."
"'T is not to a fool that we trust the lives of ten out of our nineteen
men," said Bradford quietly.
"Oh, I can fight well enow," replied the soldier bitterly. "'T is my
trade, and all I'm fit for. Ay, and in my mood to-day I'll be fain to
fight. I only fear this knave Corbitant hath run away."
"If so, he confesses his defeat without the need of bloodshed,"
suggested Bradford. "And at all odds, Standish, our policy is to make
friends by fair means if we may. Remember, if Squanto is not harmed,
Corbitant is not to be touched. If indeed our poor friend is slain, then
have you warrant for Corbitant's head, and the lives of all who helped
to murder Squanto. Thou 'rt too honorable a man and too good a Christian
to let thine own chafed humor interfere with justice."
"I am too well drilled a soldier to disobey orders, Governor," replied
the Captain briefly, and so they parted, nor did Standish and Alden
exchange a sentence that night save barely these,--
"In one word, John, was the answer to my message yes or no?"
"Dear Master, it was no."
"I bade thee answer in one word, and thou hast disobeyed me in using
five."
The next morning brought one of those furious summer storms peculiar to
August, and the little force, loaded with armor, weapons, and knapsacks,
found themselves much distressed by the humid heat. Reaching a sheltered
spot about a mile from Namasket, Standish resolved to remain there until
dark, giving the men opportunity for rest and refreshment, and trusting
to the storm and the night to cover his attack upon a foe ten times his
own number.
As darkness closed in upon the encampment, the captain roused himself
from a soldier's nap, and briefly ordered,--
"Eat what provisions you have left in your knapsacks, men, and empty
your flasks. Then pile and leave both beside this rock. Those of us who
are alive in the morning will subsist upon the enemy. Those who are not
will feel no lack."
Soon after dark the little troop set forth, but Hobomok, deceived by the
darkness and the rain, missed the route, and for three weary hours the
men floundered around in the dripping forest, the guide wisely keeping
out of the captain's reach, until in a gleam of watery moonlight Winslow
recognized a peculiar clump of trees which he had noticed upon his late
journey with Hopkins to visit Massasoit; and Hobomok recovering from his
bewilderment led the way as fast as the men could follow him, until in
the edge of a large clearing he paused, and pointing to a detached hut
whispered,--
"Corbitant sleep there."
"Now God be praised that there is a chance of fighting rather than
floundering!" piously exclaimed Standish, and with brief exact phrases
he proceeded to set the battle in array. Eight men were to silently
surround the house, their pieces ready, and their orders to cut down if
necessary any who should attempt to escape from the house. Standish and
Winslow, followed by Hobomok, marched meantime straight into a hut, and
the captain in a loud voice demanded,--
"Where is Corbitant? Give him up and no one else shall be harmed!"
A moment of panic-stricken silence ensued, and then through the darkness
was heard the indefinite rustling sound of living creatures seeking
covertly to escape from an enclosure.
"Look to it, outside!" shouted Standish. "Let no man pass your guard!
Hobomok, tell them that we will harm none if they give up Corbitant and
those who helped him to murder Tisquantum!"
But the hubbub increased momently, and presently a shout of "Back!
Back!" from without was followed by a loud shriek in a woman's voice.
"Fools!" roared Standish in the native tongue. "Keep still. Stay in the
house. We hurt none but Corbitant!"
Yet still the tumult grew; the savages trusting no promises, endeavored
to escape through the various openings of the wigwam, and although the
sentinels were as careful as possible, and heartily desirous of avoiding
bloodshed, several of the Indians were more or less hurt, while the
half-grown boys perceiving the immunity of the women from harm, ran from
one door to the other crying out,--
"Neen squaes! Neen squaes!" (I am a girl! I am a girl!)
The women also hung around Hobomok, pulling at his hands and clothing,
for attention, while they shrieked, "Oh Hobomok, I am thy friend! Thou
knowest I am thy friend!"
Winslow meantime had stirred up the embers of a fire near the doorway of
the hut, and the flame leaping out cast a wild and fitful glare over the
scene, in the midst of which Hobomok, climbing the stout pole in the
centre of the cabin, thrust his head through the smoke-hole at the top,
and after emitting a hideous war-whoop shouted the names of Tisquantum
and Tockamahamon at the top of his voice, for one of the women had
assured him that the former was alive, and that Corbitant was already
many miles on his homeward way.
Not two minutes had elapsed, when an answering whoop was heard from the
cluster of huts forming the village of Namasket, now the town of
Middleboro', and an irregular stream of warriors, headed by Tisquantum
in person, came running toward the beleaguered hut.
The struggle was now over, for so soon as the _casus belli_ was
disproved by Squanto's appearance, the capture of Corbitant was no
longer desirable, and Standish ordered his men to sheathe their swords
and release their prisoners. Those who had been wounded by persisting in
trying to escape were attended to by Surgeon Fuller, and by Standish's
invitation returned to Plymouth with their friendly conquerors to
receive a certain amount of petting by way of compensation for their
wounds, although the captain did not fail to point out that if they had
believed and obeyed him, they need not have been hurt at all.
Tisquantum shrewdly flattered at the importance set upon his life by his
white friends, seated himself with them around the new-fed fire, and
with much gesticulation and flowery forms of speech related how, by his
combined prowess and subtlety, he had forced Corbitant to release him,
and finally to leave Namasket with his warriors, not, however, without
hideous threats of what should befall that village if it persisted in an
alliance with the white men, who were soon to be exterminated with all
their friends.
"Ha! We will send an embassage to this haughty sachem, with some counter
promises and warnings," exclaimed Standish in hearing this part of the
report; and at the last moment, before the little army with its captives
left the place upon the following morning, a runner was dispatched to
follow Corbitant, and assure him from The-Sword-of-the-White-Men, as
Standish now began to be called among the Indians, that unless Massasoit
returned in safety from the country of the Narragansetts, whither he had
been beguiled, the death of the great sachem should be visited upon
Corbitant and all his tribe to the uttermost, and that if anything more
was heard of sedition and treachery as preached either among the
Namaskets or elsewhere, Corbitant should find that no distance and no
concealment should avail to save him from punishment.
The message was duly delivered, and so convincing did its terrors,
combined with the prompt action of the white men prove, that various
sachems who had hitherto held aloof, even those of the Isles of
Capawack, now called Martha's Vineyard, sent to beg for a treaty of
peace and mutual support; and in the end Corbitant prayed the kind
offices of Massasoit, now restored to his kingdom, to make his
submission to the white men.
But though so fair in outward seeming, this peace was but a hollow one,
and one more lesson was needed before the Indians became in very truth
the friends and allies of the white men.