THE MOHEGANS ATTACK THE NEW CASTLE.--BATTLE OF KINAQUARIONES.--THE FEAST
OF THE DEAD.
In the year 1669, in one of the long bark-houses at Caughnawaga on a
summer morning before the dawn, Tekakwitha is turning uneasily in her
sleep. Suddenly her aunt springs up beside her and speaks in a startled
voice. In an instant all in the lodge are on the alert. Sharp, wild
cries are heard; bullets pierce the stout palisade, and come whizzing
through the bark sides of the new house. The warriors, roused from
sleep, seize their nearest weapons, be they guns, war-clubs, tomahawks,
or arrows. A hurried word to the women, a loud whoop, a few bounding
steps, and they are on the platform of the palisade hurling defiance at
an assaulting army of Mohegans. Before them are hundreds of the foe in
war-paint and feathers, led by a stout man of middle age,--the wise and
gallant Chickatabutt, the great sachem of the Massachusetts. His bearing
makes him conspicuous among a score of famous sagamores who are leading
the assault. In the motley ranks that follow are Hudson River Indians,
mingled with the red-skin neighbors of the Puritans, grim old warriors
of the Massachusetts tribe. There are also Narragansett braves and other
New England Indians,--all united in a desperate attempt to crush the
Mohawks, and thus break in through the eastern door of the Long House
of the Five Nations. The assailants seek, now by open attack and now by
strategy, to dislodge the defenders of Caughnawaga from their lofty
scaffolds, and to fire the palisade. Four Mohawks drop from their places
dead, and two are wounded; but the Mohegans make no perceptible headway
against the defensive works of the Castle. The struggle continues with
unabated fury. Among those who fall on the side of the enemy are pupils
of the English missionary Eliot, who know something of the Bible which
he has translated for them. Five of these converts to Puritanism are
engaged in this expedition, of whom but one escapes with his life. They
too, like the ever increasing neophytes of Pierron, are called "praying
Indians." Their chief Chickatabutt--or Josiah, as he is often
called--was himself a "praying Indian" once. That was when he lived with
his pious uncle Kuchamakin, one of Eliot's favorite pupils. "He kept the
Sabbath several years," says Gookin; "but after turned apostate, and for
several years last past separated from the praying Indians, and was but
a back friend to religion." Indeed the English, who had a good opinion
of him in his early days, now thought him "a very vitious person,"
though all acknowledged he was as brave as brave could be.
The Puritans had tried in vain to dissuade their Indian neighbors from
accompanying this chief on his adventurous march to the Mohawk Valley.
In spite of every drawback, however, Chickatabutt, whose name means
"A-house-afire," had succeeded in bringing his army all the way from the
vicinity of Boston to the castle of Caughnawaga. After they were joined
by their allies, they numbered six or seven hundred men.[42] True, they
had spent much of their ammunition on the march,--"shooting away their
powder in the air, ... boasting, vapouring, and prating of their
valour," at the Indian villages where they had stopped for foraging
purposes. It was their consequent lack of ammunition which determined
them to carry the Mohawk Castle, if possible, by assault. But the brave
Caniengas, or "People of the Flint," though taken by surprise in their
sleep, were quick to grapple with the daring Mohegans, and fought like
panthers. They were not to be easily overcome, by any roving Indian foe,
in defence of their women and their homes. The squaws of Caughnawaga,
with the well-known courage of their race, realized their perilous
situation at the first alarm, and were "arming themselves with knives
and defensive weapons in case a breach should be made." The youths of
the village were, many of them, fighting their first important battle on
this occasion. The sight of the Mohawk women and young girls, arming
themselves as best they could to resist the Mohegan attack, was in
itself an irresistible appeal to their tribesmen to exert themselves to
the utmost in defending them against the well-known horrors of
captivity, which would undoubtedly come upon them if the castle fell
into the hands of the enemy. Many a young brave was nerved to desperate
feats of valor on that morning and during the days that followed.
Beginning with the sudden attack at dawn, the struggle continued for a
long time with uncertain issue. News was carried to Tionnontogen that
the whole country was lost; that Caughnawaga was besieged by an army of
Mohegans; that all the youth had already fallen, and perhaps Gandagaro,
the adjacent fort, was in extremity. These reports, though exaggerated,
caused the Mohawk warriors of the other castles to gather as fast as
possible at Caughnawaga. Even had they been all there at the very first,
they would still have been fewer in numbers than the enemy; but before
the sun was high, enough of them had assembled to warrant a sally on the
foe. Father Pierron was now at the castle, and a witness of the stirring
events taking place there. Tekakwitha, too, was taking her part among
the young girls, whose fate now hung in the balance. The missionary thus
describes what followed:--
"By eight o'clock in the morning our warriors without confusion
promptly arrayed themselves with all they have of greatest
value, as is their custom in such encounters, and with no other
leader than their own courage went out in full force against
the enemy. I was with the first to go to see if, amid the
carnage about the palisades of the village, where so many
unbelieving souls would perish, I might not be able to save
some one. On our arrival, we heard only cries of lamentation
over the death of the bravest of the village. The enemy had
retired after two hours of most obstinate fighting on both
sides. There was but a single warrior of the Loups [Mohegans]
left on the ground; and I saw that a Barbarian, after cutting
off his hands and feet, had flayed him, and was stripping the
flesh from the bones for a hateful repast."
This was to honor Aireskoi! Tekakwitha, ever helpful and ready to assist
others, would probably be where she was most needed at that time,--with
the bereaved women who were seeking their dead, and with those who
ministered to the wounded. No heart so quick as hers to turn with
loathing from the hideous human sacrifice that was being prepared
outside the castle walls. With the good deeds of the blackgown Pierron
hourly before her, and the sound of his voice often in her ears,--for
this missionary could doctor as well as preach,[43]--she must have had
constantly in her mind the thought of Rawenniio during this time of
peril and anxiety, and would not fail to call in spirit on the God of
the Christians for assistance against the foe.
The Mohegan army sat down before the castle, besieging it for some days
without effect, though there was much firing back and forth. The
provisions they had brought with them were about exhausted and their
munition well spent. Some of their people were sick, and they saw the
impossibility of getting the stronghold by assault. So they broke up the
siege, to the great relief of the imprisoned Mohawks, and retreated
twenty miles in the direction of the Dutch settlements. This brought
them to Kinaquariones,[44] now called Towereune, a steep rocky hill on
the north side of the Mohawk River. It is just above Hoffman's Ferry,
nine English or three Dutch miles west of Schenectady; there they
temporarily entrenched themselves. The Mohawks, who did not know of this
camp, though secure for the time being in their castle, felt that in
any case no time should be lost in following up the enemy as soon as
they could make the necessary preparation. The women of Caughnawaga,
having laid aside their weapons, began at once to assist the warriors in
making ready the supply of meal which according to custom was to be
carried on the war-path. This was soon done, as they had but to add a
little maple-sugar or other seasoning to the pounded corn, which they
had already twice charred or dried for use on just such expeditions. The
warriors of the Mohawk nation were now all assembled to go in pursuit of
the Mohegans. Every man was fully armed and equipped, and their deerskin
pockets were well filled with the crushed corn. They put themselves
under the leadership of the brave warrior Kryn, surnamed the "Great
Mohawk." His home was at Caughnawaga, and his valor and good management
on this expedition won for him a new title, that of "Conqueror of the
Mohegans." He and his fellow tribesmen now hastily bade adieu to their
families, who, together with the blackgown Pierron, were to remain at
the castle; then they embarked in canoes on the Mohawk, and aided by the
force of the current soon disappeared around the great bend of the river
in the direction of old Ossernenon on the route to the pale-face
settlements. Anxious eyes and thoughts followed them. The bravest of two
warlike races were now likely at any moment to meet in a decisive
conflict, and who dare foretell the result? Not Tekakwitha, who waited
in silence and concern; nor her more voluble companions, whose anxiety
took the form of restlessness. Having all done their share in defending
the castle, they could now only watch and wait, looking often in the
direction of the vanished braves, and hoping for news of the expedition
from chance stragglers. In the mean-time the women were free to go back
and forth to the spring, to care for the wounded, and to prepare the
bodies of the dead for burial.
The day after the departure of the warriors there were rumors of a
desperate battle in progress about twenty miles away; and on the
following day at three o'clock in the afternoon, came certain news of
victory. It was a great triumph for the Mohawks or Caniengas, bravest of
the bold Kanonsionni. Chickatabutt, the sachem of the Massachusetts, was
slain. The noblest of the Mohegan warriors fell at his side. Those who
escaped fled away to their distant kindred humbled and ashamed, with
lamentations and mourning for the loss of most of their chief men. The
Mohawks were greatly elated. The gloom that hung over Caughnawaga was
changed to glad excitement. All prepared to welcome home the heroes of
the battle of Kinaquariones. Father Pierron started at once and alone in
the direction of the battle-field to visit the wounded. He wished also to
manifest to the warriors his interest in their victory. He arrived on
the spot before nightfall. The warriors were glad to see him, and eager
to relate all the particulars of the fight. This proved to be the last
great battle between the Mohawks and the Mohegans. Its deeds of valor
were told and retold for many a day at the Turtle Village and in
Tekakwitha's hearing with all the usual boastfulness of the Indian.
Pierron wrote a full account of all that happened from the time the
Mohawk war-party set out from the castle in their canoes till they
returned to their homes in triumph. It is here given in his own
words:--
"Night overtaking them [the Mohawks] in their pursuit, they
sent in advance certain of their number in quest of the enemy,
and quietly to discover the place where he was encamped. As the
scouts came within sight of the spot, desiring a better view of
the situation, they drew still nearer. But notwithstanding
their great caution, one of the Loups on guard close by,
hearing a noise, gave the customary challenge, _Koue, koue_
(this is the 'Who comes there?' of the savages); as there was
no response and he saw nothing, he did not deem it necessary to
give the alarm.
From the report given by the spies on their return of the
condition of the enemy, it was determined not to attack him in
his lodging-place, where he appeared too well entrenched, but
to prepare an ambush on the route it was believed he would
take. In the execution of this plan, the Iroquois made a wide
detour to lay their ambuscade in a cragged and most
advantageous pass which commanded the only route in the
direction of the Hollanders. In the morning the Loups decamped;
and as they marched in single file, after the Indian custom,
twelve of them fell unexpectedly into the ambuscade. A shower
of balls of which they were all at once made aware, immediately
put to flight those that the casualty had spared. Frightful
cries at once rang through the forest, and the Loups rallied at
the same place where they had encamped. The Iroquois pursued
them with vigor. On overtaking them, they made a fierce
assault. The Loups at first made a stout resistance; but the
cowardice of some among them forcing the main body to recede
before the fury of the Iroquois, ten of the whole band made a
stand within their works to defend themselves unto death. This
new entrenchment greatly harassed our _Agnies_ [Mohawks] but as
they are an indefatigable and brave people, they did not lose
courage nor the hope of driving out the enemy; and to succeed
in this with the least peril, they made use of an old tree,
which they found there, and which they carried in front of them
for protection. This they were able to do, instead of going up
one by one to the place where the enemy was fortified. Their
skill however did not avail them; for notwithstanding this
device, the Loups did not omit to open a heavy fire from all
sides, killing and wounding a number of our people; and the
fight without doubt would have been still more disastrous if
night had not terminated it. Our Indians captured at the outset
four women of the twenty-four who accompanied the expedition,
and six men subsequently in the heat of the combat.
The next morning as they were ready to renew the attack, they
found that the enemy had made their escape during the night,
and that they were left masters of the battle-field. The
victors, following the custom of the savages, tomahawked and
scalped the Loups left on the place, and then took care to bury
those of their own people who had been slain in the fight."
The Mohawks declared that nearly a hundred warriors on the side of the
enemy had perished, either by the sword in the fray or by water in
flight. "This was probably an exaggeration," continues Pierron, "as only
nineteen scalps were secured."[45] According to the story of the Mohegan
captives, they lost fifty men on their side, thirteen falling on the
field of battle; while they killed altogether nearly forty of the
Mohawks.
Pierron thus describes the triumphal march back to Caughnawaga from the
field of action:--
"We left two days after the combat, in company with a large
number, both those who had taken part in the fight and those
who had come to look on. The victors bore the scalps well
painted, at the end of long batons made to support their
trophies. The captives, divided into several bands, marched
with singing; and as I perceived that one of the women had a
sick infant which she carried at the breast, I thought I would
do well to baptize it, seeing it was about to die."
The blackgown accordingly took occasion to approach the mother as they
were crossing a stream, caught up a handful of water, and saying the
short baptismal words, poured it on the little head, which soon drooped
in death. He had already instructed some of the captives, and in the
course of a few days all of them asked for baptism. On first reaching
the castle, the Mohegan prisoners of war were received and tortured in
the usual manner. Pierron could do nothing for them while the heat of
passion and enmity toward the victims lasted; but watching his chance he
saw that they were left alone for a time on the torture scaffold, before
being killed, surrounded still by the ghastly scalps of their
companions. He at once led them down from the hateful platform, and took
them into a cabin near by, to prepare them, if possible, for a Christian
death. While he was speaking to them earnestly of their salvation, some
of the Iroquois came and stood near, saying to one another, "Do you see
how he loves our enemies?" Some among them added, "He ought to leave
them to burn in hell,--people who have done us so much evil." Pierron,
overhearing this, turned about, and seeing that a crowd of the villagers
had assembled, caught up the words of the discontented Mohawks, and
taking them for his text, explained so well and so forcibly the teaching
of Christ on the Mount, that in a little while the Indians who had
gathered about him were all of one mind, and declared that he did well
to teach the captives. They no longer interfered with his self-imposed
task, but gave him ample time to instruct them. Before the doomed
Mohegans were finally put to death, they all received baptism; among
them, we are told, was "one of the bravest and most celebrated warriors
of that nation, who in the combat had slain with his own hand several
Iroquois." Submitting to Pierron's influence, the fierce Mohawks did not
grudge even to this warrior whatever happiness he might be able to
secure, through the blackgown's ministrations, in another world. Little
by little these Mohawks were veering round in the direction of
Christianity, under the firm and steady but gentle guidance of their
devoted missionary. Whether or not they were willing to listen, his
stirring voice still rang in their ears; and whether or not they
realized the fact, it was certainly true that he was treated every day
with more and more of respect and trust.
The next important event that took place at Caughnawaga was the Feast of
the Dead. Here again, though Tekakwitha was certainly present and must
have known all that was going on, her biographers have given no account
of it. Pierron, however, has taken care to write out a full description
of this great feast; it occurred only once in ten years. He, of course,
in his important position as the representative among them both of
Christianity and of his French countrymen, deals only with what
concerned the whole Mohawk nation. He had little or no time to note the
changes that were taking place in the young Tekakwitha; no word had
passed between the two since his return from Quebec. If she had aught to
say to him, she was forbidden to say it. Likely enough he did not even
recognize her when he saw her, though he may have remembered the
appearance of a little maiden who some years before had lodged him at
Gandawague.
We who have followed the course of her life more closely, can easily
single out Tekakwitha from the crowd that has gathered to witness the
strange ceremonies that are taking place in the woods not far from the
castle. The bones of all the friends and relations of these people who
have died within the last ten years have been carefully and reverently
cleaned, scraped, and collected together to be deposited in a common pit
prepared for their reception. The best and richest of beaver-skins and
other furs are freely brought forward, that the pit may be lined with
their beautiful warm surfaces. It is at night, amid the wailing chants
of the women and the flaming of torches, that the relics of the dead,
with many a last caressing touch, are deposited in the great pit; they
are encased in separate robes with precious gifts. There are many tragic
demonstrations of grief. A weird, pathetic scene it is; and it makes a
strange and lasting impression on the minds of the young people who
witness it for the first time. After the pit has been filled and covered
over, the women are to be seen trudging back and forth to the village
with hampers of food, to be deposited on the gigantic grave for the use
of their departed friends. It is only after the Feast of the Dead is
over that the soul is supposed to take its final journey to the
spirit-land. Previous to this celebration they believe that it hovers
near the body, which they expose on a bark scaffold, or else put in a
sitting posture in a temporary grave covered lightly with bark or twigs.
During the progress of this feast quite a dispute arises among the
assembled chiefs concerning the treatment received by Pierron. He has
been cordially invited to be present, and now stands among the
dignitaries of the Mohawk nation in company with Tekakwitha's uncle and
other chiefs. The blackgown lets no part of the ceremony escape his
notice. Distinguished guests from Oneida and Onondaga have placed
themselves in separate groups, according to custom. An Onondaga chief
has risen to make a speech. Near enough to see and hear what is going on
are the women of Caughnawaga, who so lately took part in the defence of
the castle. Tekakwitha's blanket partly conceals her face, but she is
quite as richly dressed as the other young squaws. What she does not see
or hear directly she can quickly gather from the talk of those about
her. When the Onondaga has finished speaking, the Mohawk chiefs recount
in turn the leading superstitions and fables of the nation; they are
well known already to most of the people, who only half listen to what
is being said. Presently there is a stir among the Mohawk dignitaries,
which centres the attention of all within earshot on the group. Pierron,
it seems, has ceased to be a silent listener to what passes. He begins
in his turn to tell fables, giving them here and there an extremely
ridiculous turn. In the midst of it he is abruptly ordered by one of the
chiefs to be silent. All are now eager to get at the truth of what has
occurred. Some loudly upbraid the chief for his discourtesy; others
bitterly accuse Pierron of an untimely interference with their customs.
They say that he has been openly ridiculing their beliefs; his mouth
must be stopped at once. But Pierron, knowing full well his influence
with the people, and judiciously appealing to their love of fair play,
boldly addresses the offending chief in these words, now distinctly
heard by the listening throng: "Dost thou know, indeed, that thou hast
given me the keenest affront I could have received? But who art thou to
order me to be silent, and am I here to obey thee? If I had treated thee
after this sort at Quebec, wouldst thou not have had cause to complain;
but in what have I spoken evil, that my mouth should be closed? And if I
speak the truth, why art thou not willing to hear?" The chief replied
that it was their custom on these occasions to keep up their fables.
Pierron stoutly rejoined: "It is your custom to get intoxicated;
honestly, is it a good custom, and ought I to approve it? It is your
custom to violate every law of reason, and to live as the beasts; think
you it is not my duty to reprove you for all these vices? And yet you
impose silence upon me when I would speak to you. Is this reasonable?"
As Pierron and the chief could come to no agreement, the blackgown
withdrew from among the Mohawks when the singing began, and took his
place in the group of Onondaga guests, who received him with marked
respect.
The ceremony lasted five hours. When it was over Pierron returned at
once to Caughnawaga village, leaving the Mohawks still in the forest on
the spot where the solemnity was conducted. A rumor was circulated there
to the effect that the blackgown meant to return to Quebec. It was not
long before the brusque Mohawk chief who had given offence came to him
in the village to offer an apology for his conduct, saying: "My brother,
up to this hour we have acted toward each other as the two best friends
in the world." Then placing his hand on his heart, he added: "Tell me
then, frankly, in what humor is thy soul? They say that thou goest to
Quebec, and will no more come to live with us. If this be so, I implore
thee not to get us into difficulty with Onnontio; for this would bring
trouble upon thyself, if so many, both old and young, who greatly love
and honor thee, should for this reason receive ill-treatment. Tell me,
then, what is in thy heart, and what are thy sentiments?"
Pierron, in a grave and serious manner seldom assumed by him, replied:
"It has been told thee that I have an irritated mind and a heart full of
grief. This is true, and thou knowest well that thou art the cause; thou
hast treated me with the greatest indignity. Thou hast even presumed to
impose silence when I would speak of the faith, which is the thing of
all else, as thou art not ignorant, I have most at heart. Did it not
confuse thee to see me so well received by the Onondagas, whom I did not
know, driven out by those who professed to be our friends?"
After listening patiently till he was through, the chief said with
earnestness: "My brother, I see what is at the bottom of this quarrel;
it is that we are not yet Christians. But if thou wilt leave this
important affair to me, I promise thee success. This is what thou must
do: First convoke a council, and then having given three belts to our
three families, at each present speak out thy mind. After this, leave me
to act, and I trust all will go well."
All did go well, to the great delight of Father Pierron. The old chief,
who was high in authority, went to work so energetically, sending his
nephews out in every direction, that he soon assembled all the grandees
of the Mohawk nation in the cabin of Pierron. The blackgown did indeed
speak out his mind with such decided effect that his words were received
with loud cries of applause. He threw down a fathom of wampum, saying:
"Agnie, my brother, if it is true that thou art willing to hear me,
there is my voice, which warns thee and entreats thee wholly to renounce
Agreskoue, and never speak to him, but to adore the true God and follow
His law."
He threw down a second fathom of wampum, to oblige the medicine men no
more to invoke demons for the cure of diseases, but to use natural
remedies. Again and again the speaker was applauded; even the medicine
men who were present in the assembly showed their good will on this
occasion. The last present to destroy the superstition of the dances was
received with no less acclamation than the other two. It was Pierron's
moment of triumph, the reward of his unceasing efforts in their behalf!
The whole Mohawk nation seemed ready to do his will. The council which
met some days after, included the delegation from Onondaga. These
distinguished strangers had just returned from the visit they made to
the Dutch after taking part in the Feast of the Dead.
Garacontie, the chief of the Onondagas, himself soon to become a
Christian, now raised his powerful voice in support of Pierron, saying
to the people, "Take his word, for he has sacrificed all for you." The
blackgown triumphed at last. The sorcerers of the village cast their
turtle-shell rattles into the fire, the women no longer called in the
medicine men to cure their diseases, no dances were allowed which were
not approved by Pierron, and the oyanders (or nobles) brought their
youth in crowds to the chapel to be instructed. What more could the
blackgown wish? Alas! he knew the Indians too well; and he adds in the
moment of his success, "Their natural inconstancy still divides my heart
between fear and joy."
So far as Tekakwitha was concerned, no fear as yet disturbed the calm
content of her spirit. The Lily of the Mohawks, quite unnoticed in the
retirement of her lodge, was taking note of all these things, and was
waxing fairer every day in the sunny light of Rawenniio's presence in
the land. The true God, the Great Spirit, they tell her, is now to be
worshipped by all the people. She hears them cry out through the
village, "Hail to Rawenniio! Down with sorcery! Down with Aireskoi!"
These words are like sweet music in the ears of Tekakwitha. She is in a
dream of happiness, a day-dream of the spirit. Her busy fingers drop
their work, unconscious of this unaccustomed idleness; her thoughts are
all of God. Tekakwitha's first and last and only love is Rawenniio. She
hears his voice, she feels his presence in the purer air she breathes,
for Aireskoi has fallen from his throne. In the quiet and seclusion of
the long-house, all alone, she hears the noises of the crowd outside,
like distant murmurs; but the name of "the true God" echoes in her ears,
and she is happy. Why not leave her so? Let us not disturb her. Why
should she be roused to suffer? Must the Lily droop her head and thirst
and die, like the rest of Rawenniio's flowers? Alas! it must be so. But
let us not forget that this Lily of the Mohawks has a soul, though it is
still like a little bird that breathes and just begins to move, but has
not tried its strength. In sorrow the wings of the soul are developed.
When once they have grown strong, it will be easy for Tekakwitha to fly
away through the door of death to Rawenniio.
FOOTNOTES:
[42] This is the number given by Gookin, who was an Indian agent and
magistrate of the Massachusetts Colony at the time of this expedition.
Pierron in his account mentions only three hundred.
[43] Pierron had ridiculed the practices of the sorcerers and medicine
men so effectually that they no longer attempted to use their charms and
spells in his presence.
[44] See note of J. S. Clark in "Early Chapters of Mohawk History," by
Dr. Hawley (no. xx., as printed in the "Auburn Advertiser").
[45] Gookin says of the Mohegans: "About fifty of their chief men, they
confess, were slain in this fight; but I suppose more."