IN THE WOODS.
“Actions rare and sudden, do commonly
Proceed from fierce necessity.”
SIR WILLIAM DAVENANT.
Two or three days after the return of Winslow and Hopkins from
Massasoit’s forest rendezvous, the routine life of the colonists was
broken by the sudden disappearance of one of the younger members of
the Plymouth commonwealth. John Billington was nowhere to be found.
Though he was a vicious lad, the pest of the colony, his absence
caused great anxiety. Whither had he gone? Was he drowned? Had he
been kidnapped? Had he wandered away and lost his course in the
tangled cross-paths of the forest?
Though the season, already declining towards autumn, called for
the active labor of the settlers, the supposed peril of the lost
boy swallowed up all other considerations, and a squad of ten men
was recruited to go in search of him.[230] The clumsy shallop was
rigged, and, led by Standish, all embarked. They had not sailed
far ere a sudden squall, accompanied by a severe thunderstorm,
peculiar to the season and the latitude, struck them, as it were,
with clenched fists. A water-spout, the first they had ever seen,
flung up the hissing sea to a sheer height of fifty feet within a
stone’s toss of the shallop, already half capsized.[231] Drenched
and weary, they landed in Cummaquid, now Barnstable harbor, where
they bivouacked.[232] Here an Indian runner, despatched by Massasoit,
met them, and said that the lad they sought might be found at
Nauset, some miles farther down the coast. In the morning, as they
were about to embark, they espied two Indians, strangers, whom
they hailed. Squanto and another friendly sachem named Tokamahamon
were with the scouting party, and they now acted as interpreters.
These natives corroborated Massasoit’s report of the whereabouts of
young Billington; and at their invitation, six of the Englishmen
accompanied them to an interview with their chief, Iyanough, who
lurked in the vicinity. When they met the sagamore, they found him to
be a handsome man, in the May of youth, courteous in his manners, and
unlike an Indian save in his costume.[233] The entertainment to which
he invited his pale-face guests was in harmony with his decorous
appearance, being various and abundant.[234]
While they were feasting, they saw an old, withered squaw, who
seemed bowed down beneath the weight of a hundred years, hobbling
eagerly towards the spot of green sward where they reclined. She
had never seen an Englishman, and was naturally curious to gaze
upon the pale-face strangers. On reaching their vicinage she became
intensely excited, and commenced to howl and rave and weep, pausing
between each sob to curse her chieftain’s guests. The Pilgrims were
astonished. They asked why the old squaw cried and cursed, and were
told that Hunt had kidnapped three of her sons, at the same time that
he had carried Squanto into Spanish servitude. They told the old
squaw, through an interpreter, that Hunt was a bad man, condemned by
all good Englishmen; said that they would not do so wicked an act for
all the skins in New England; and to convince her of their sincerity,
gave her some trinkets, which served to placate her exuberant
wrath.[235]
Taking a friendly leave of Iyanough, the Pilgrims returned to the
shallop, and at once set sail for Nauset, the Indian name of what is
now the pleasant village of Eastham. On their arrival, the shallop
was surrounded by a swarm of natives, who greatly annoyed them by
their officious offers of assistance.[236] Standish was impelled to
keep on the alert by the remembrance that this tribe was the one
which had assailed the English coasting party in December, 1620.[237]
Among these savages the Pilgrims found the long-sought owner of the
corn which they had taken from the burial-mound; he was invited to
visit Plymouth, where he was promised ample payment.[238]
Towards evening, a sagamore named Aspinet came to them, bringing
with him the lost lad. He had wandered over the hills and through
the woods for five days, living upon the berries and wild fruit of
the season. Finally he reached an Indian village at Menomet, where
Sandwich is now located; and here the Indians had sent him to the
Nausets, among whom he was now found.[239]
The boy was decked out in the tawdry Indian style when Aspinet
delivered him to the settlers, and several pounds of beads hung
suspended from his neck.[240]
Standish rewarded the sachem for his care of the boy; he also
distributed some presents among his tribe. Here a rumor of war
between the Narragansetts and Massasoit reached them; and Aspinet
also said that the great sagamore had been captured by his vengeful
foemen.[241] Apprehensive for the welfare of the colony, and
conscious that they ought to render Massasoit assistance in case he
had been unjustly attacked, the Englishmen bade Aspinet a hasty but
cordial farewell, and instantly reëmbarked.[242]
Plymouth was regained without further adventure. Their return was
welcome, for these ten constituted half the martial force of the
commonwealth; and in their absence the remaining settlers had
learned of dangerous intrigues against their peace, stirred by a
sachem called Corbitant, an ally of Massasoit’s, but never a friend
to the Pilgrims.[243]
“The flying rumors gathered as they rolled;
Scarce any tale was sooner heard than told;
And all who told it added something new,
And all who heard it made enlargement too;
In every ear it spread, on every tongue it grew.”[244]
At first this startling intelligence was flung into the ears of the
settlers: “The Narragansetts have invaded Massasoit’s territory; the
sagamore is either a prisoner or has fled; an attack upon Plymouth
may immediately be expected.”[245]
Squanto, Tokamahamon, and a warrior named Habbamak, who had come to
live among the colonists, “a proper, lusty man, of great account for
his valor and parts among the Indians,”[246] were at once despatched
to reconnoitre. Hardly had they disappeared in the skirting forests
ere word was brought that Massasoit was safe, that the Narragansetts
were not near, but that Corbitant was using every wile to detach the
sagamore from the English alliance, while he threatened death to
Squanto, Tokamahamon, and Habbamak, the counsellors of the sachem who
were so actively friendly to the Pilgrims.[247]
Events hustled each other; for scarcely had the settlers time to
breathe freer after this recital, ere “Habbamak came running in
all sweating,” and informed the clustering colonists that he and
his two friends had been surprised and overpowered at Namasket by
Corbitant; that he had managed to escape, but that he feared Squanto
and Tokamahamon were dead, as he saw Corbitant press a knife to their
breasts, and say, “If Squanto were dead, these English would lose
their tongue.”[248]
The Pilgrims never appear to greater advantage than in moments of
trial; they are always equal to the occasion;
“Like a ball that bounds
According to the force with which ’twas thrown;
So in affliction’s violence, he that’s wise,
The more he’s cast down, will the higher rise.”[249]
’Twas so with the Pilgrims. Danger seemed powerless to abash them.
They “walked softly before the Lord,” but they “feared no evil.” They
were profoundly penetrated with John Marston’s maxim: “Through danger
safety comes; through trouble rest.”
So now in this strait, they wasted no time in technical deliberation.
Justice to themselves, to Squanto, to Massasoit, demanded action,
prompt, efficient. Impunity was a bounty on offence. They were too
weak to dare let an insult go unpunished. Besides, it was remembered
that “if they should suffer their friends and messengers to be thus
wronged, they would have none to cleave unto them, or bring them
intelligence, or do them any good service afterwards, while next
their foes would fall upon themselves. Whereupon it was resolved
to send Standish and fourteen men well armed, and to go and fall
upon the Indian village at Namasket at night; and if they found that
Squanto was killed, to cut off Corbitant’s head, but not to hurt any
not concerned in the murder. Habbamak was asked if he would go and be
their guide. He said he would, and bring them to the very spot, and
point out Corbitant. So they set out on the evening of August 14th,
1621.”[250]
The night was dark and tempestuous. Habbamak himself was often
puzzled to find the path, and at times groped blindly. Towards
midnight the little army halted and made a supper in the dark. As
they were now near Namasket, the final preparations for the assault
were made. Knapsacks were thrown aside, and each man received his
specific directions. The plan was to surround the wigwam of Corbitant
and seize him ere he could escape. None were to be injured unless an
attempt to escape was made.[251]
The march was now resumed. Cautiously and silently they trod in the
footsteps of their dusky guide, casting furtive glances into the
enveloping gloom, and pausing momentarily to listen and to watch.
At length the Indian village was reached. There it lay, calm and
oblivious of danger, the eyes of its inmates sealed in sleep. Softly
but swiftly the assailants stole like spectres half round the
drowsy town, and instructed by Habbamak, the wigwam of the hostile
sachem was surrounded. Then came another brief pause, and each man’s
heart seemed throbbing in his throat, so new and so exciting was the
situation. The signal followed; the hut was entered; its inmates,
still half asleep, were deprived of speech by fright and drowsiness.
Soon, however, they regained their senses, and great commotion
ensued. Standish asked if Corbitant was there. Unable or unwilling to
reply, several of the aroused Indians essayed to pass the guard. Then
the guns of the invaders increased the hubbub, and flashed angrily
in the pitchy darkness. The women, rushing to Habbamak, called him
“Friend, friend!” The boys, noticing that no injury was attempted
against the squaws, shouted, “I am a girl, I am a girl!”[252]
After a time silence was regained. Standish, speaking through the
lips of Habbamak, explained the object of the assault, and again
demanded to know the whereabouts of Corbitant. Reassured, the Indians
said that the wily sachem, fearing some revengeful action, had
decamped; that Squanto and Tokamahamon had not yet been murdered, but
were held as captives in a neighboring wigwam.[253]
The friendly sachems were speedily released, and while their
deliverers heartily rejoiced over their escape, they regretted that
of Corbitant.[254] The whole party breakfasted with Squanto; after
which the Namasket Indians were assembled, and Standish informed
them of his determination to hunt Corbitant, and to punish all who
should plot evil against the colony, or who should presume to contend
against the authority of Massasoit. He also regretted that any had
been wounded in the night attack, and invited those who pleased to
accompany him back to Plymouth, where an English physician would heal
their hurts. Three, two men and a squaw, accepted this invitation,
and tarrying until their wounds were dressed, medicined, and cured,
they were then dismissed in peace.[255]
This expedition, so successful and so bloodless, had a prodigious
effect. By some system of primitive telegraphing, the news of it,
and of the awful fire-weapons of the pale-faces, spread throughout
the forests. The red men did not want such “medicine men” for their
foes. Nine sachems, representing jurisdictions which extended from
Charles River to Buzzard’s Bay, came to Plymouth and made their
submission.[256] The Indians of an island which the settlers had
never seen, sent to sue for their friendship;[257] and Corbitant
himself, though too shy to come near Plymouth in person, used the
mediation of Massasoit to make his peace.[258]
The result was, broader amity and firmer peace. But the Pilgrims
conquered as much by their moderation and self-command as by their
energetic heroism. The anxious care with which they treated the
injured warriors of their midnight raid, and the candor of their
speech, placated resentment and inspired respect. Still the basis
of this feeling was a knowledge that the white men would not suffer
insult; and it has been finely said, that if we justly estimate it,
there was more of sound policy and gallant daring in the midnight
raid of this handful of strangers, than has marked many a deed of
arms which historians have delighted to record, and to which nations
still look back with exultant pride.[259]
Just as autumn began to smile, the Pilgrims made another expedition.
This had a twofold purpose: to explore the country, and to cement a
peace with the northeastern tribes.[260]
Entering the shallop at midnight, Standish and nine others, with
three Indians to interpret, of whom Squanto was one, embarked
with the ebb-tide.[261] They sailed along the coast to the bay on
which Boston now stands, called in the contemporaneous record,
_Massachusetts Bay_.[262] “On the second morning after leaving
Plymouth, they landed upon a beach under a cliff, and received the
submission of a chief on promising to be ‘a safeguard from his
enemies.’ They surveyed the ‘fifty islands’ of Boston harbor; and
passing the night on board their boat, went on shore again the
following day and walked a few miles into the country. They observed
land which had been cultivated, two forts in decay, untenanted
huts, and other tokens of recent depopulation. They noted ‘the fair
entrance’ of the river Charles, and ‘harbors for shipping’ than
which ‘better could not be.’ They conciliated the few natives whom
they met, and traded with them for some skins. They learned that the
principal personage in the neighborhood was the female chief, or
‘squaw sachem’ of the Massachusetts; that this tribe had suffered
from the hostile incursions of the Tarratines, and that its people
owed a certain allegiance to Massasoit. The third evening, by ‘a
light moon,’ the party set sail for home, which they reached before
the following noon. The accounts they brought of the seat of their
explorations naturally led their friends to ‘wish they had been
seated there;’”[263] but “the Lord, who assigns to all men the bounds
of their habitations,” remarks Bradford, “had appointed it for
another use.”[264] The party “found the Lord to be with them in all
their ways, and to bless their outgoings and incomings, for which let
his holy name have the praise for ever to all posterity.”[265]
Standish and his friends had returned on the 22d of September.
Their services were needed; the nodding crops were to be reaped,
and all “began now to gather in the small harvest they had.”[266]
The husbandry of the year proved a prosperous beginning. The
rivers supplied manure in abundance, and the weather had been not
unfavorable.[267] “All the summer there was no want.” While “some
were thus employed in affairs abroad, others were exercised” in
domestic avocations, in “fishing for cod and bass and other fish, of
which they took great store, giving every family its portion.”[268]
When the fields were gleaned, the pease turned out “not worth the
gathering, the sun having parched them in the blossom;” the barley
was “indifferent good;” and there was “a good increase of Indian
corn.” “They had about a peck of meal a week to a person; or now,
since harvest, Indian corn to that proportion.”[269]
Seven substantial dwelling-houses had been built, “and four for
the use of the plantation,” while others were being constructed.
Fowl were so abundant in the autumn, that “four men in one day
killed as much as, with a little help besides, served the community
almost a week.” “There was great store of wild turkeys, of which
they took many, besides venison.” The fowlers had been sent out by
the governor, “that so they might, after a special manner, rejoice
together, since they had gathered the fruit of their labors;” this
was the origin and the first celebration of the national festival
of New England, the autumnal THANKSGIVING. On that occasion of
hilarity they “exercised their arms,” and for three days “entertained
and feasted” Massasoit and some ninety of his people, who made a
contribution of five deer to the festivity. Health was restored;
household fires were blazing brightly; and in good heart and hope the
lonely but thankful settlers disposed themselves to meet the rigor of
another winter.[270]
“Here was free range; the hunter’s instincts could bourgeon and grow;
the deer that browsed, the fish that swam, the fowl that flew, were
free to all—might be captives to each man’s bow and spear. Here were
‘herring, cod, and ling,’ ‘salt upon salt,’ ‘beavers, otters, furs of
price,’ ‘mines of gold and silver,’ ‘woods of all sorts,’ ‘eagles,
gripes, whales, grampus, moose, deer,’ ‘bears, and wolves,’ ‘all in
season, mind you, for you cannot gather cherries at Christmas in
Kent.’ Who then would live at home in degradation, only to eat, and
drink, and sleep and to die?”[271]