COMMENCEMENT OF THE REIGN OF KING PHILIP.
1640-1674
Continued prosperity.--Establishment of Harvard College.--Acts of
violence.--Death of Miantunnomah.--The war-whoop resumed.--The
United Colonies of New England.--A confederacy.--Indian
conspiracy.--Indian outrages.--Opposition of the English
to war.--Death of Massasoit.--Changing names.--Sons of
Massasoit.--Wetamoo.--Decline of Indian power.--Mutual
wrongs.--Alexander summoned to court.--He promises to attend.--Departure
of Major Winslow.--He finds Alexander.--Preparations for the
arrest.--Rage of Alexander.--The forced compliance.--The return to
Plymouth.--The royal prisoner.--Sickness of Alexander.--The king taken
by his followers.--Death of Alexander.--King Philip.--Enmity of
Wetamoo.--Her power.--Endowments of Philip.--His religious
beliefs.--His opposition to changing his religion.--Alleged justice
of the English.--The discontent of Philip noticed.--Mutual
suspicions.--Decline of the Narragansets.--The fidelity of the
Mohegans.--Indian vengeance.--Escape of the victim.--Summons to
Philip.--Philip appears with his warriors.--His caution.--The
commissioners.--Desire to attack the Indians.--Equitable
arrangements.--Philip's adroitness.--Charge for charge.--Result of
the conference.--Extraordinary pledge.--Desires in regard to the
Indians.--Uselessness of Indian treaties.--The English violate their
pledge.--Philip for "law and order."--Decision of the referee.--A
general council.--Complaints.--A new treaty.--Philip desires
peace.--Rumors of trouble.--The cloud of terror.--Independence of
Philip.--The close of the year 1674.
With peace came abundant prosperity. Emigrants flocked over to the New
World. In ten years after the Pequot war the colonists had settled
fifty towns and villages, had reared forty churches, several forts and
prisons, and the Massachusetts colony, decidedly pre-eminent, had
established Harvard College. The wilderness indeed began to blossom,
and gardens, orchards, rich pastures, fields of grain, and verdant
meadows cheered the eye and filled the dwellings with abundance.
There were now four English colonies, Plymouth, Massachusetts,
Connecticut, and New Haven. There were also the germs of two more, one
at Providence and the other on Rhode Island. The Indians, with the
exception of illustrious individuals, were a vagabond set of
perfidious and ferocious savages. They were incessantly fighting with
each other, and it required all the efforts of the English to keep
them under any degree of restraint. The utter extirpation of the
Pequots so appalled them, that for forty years no tribe ventured to
wage war against the English. Yet during this time individual Indians
committed many enormous outrages of robbery and murder, for which the
sachems of the tribes were not responsible. The Mohegans, under Uncas,
had become very powerful. They had a fierce fight with the
Narragansets. Miantunnomah was taken captive. Uncas put him to death
upon Norwich plain by splitting his head open with a hatchet. The
Mohegan sachem tore a large piece of flesh from the shoulder of his
victim, and ate it greedily, exclaiming, "It is the sweetest meal I
ever tasted; it makes my heart strong."
Marauding bands of Indians often committed murders. The efforts of the
English to punish the culprits would exasperate others, and provoke
new violence. Indications of combinations among the savages were
frequently developed, and the colonists were often thrown into a
general state of alarm, in anticipation of the horrors of another
Indian war.
In the year 1644, a Massachusetts colonist visiting Connecticut was
murdered on the way by an Indian. The English demanded the murderer.
The Indians, under various subterfuges, refused to give him up. The
English, in retaliation, seized upon eight or ten Indians, and threw
them into prison. This so exasperated the savages that they raised the
war-whoop, grasped their arms, and threatened dire revenge. By
boldness and moderation the English accomplished their ends, and the
murderer was surrendered to justice. A few weeks after this an Indian
entered a house in Stamford. He found a woman there alone with her
infant child. With three blows of the tomahawk he cut her down, and,
plundering the house, left her, as he supposed, dead. She, however, so
far recovered as to describe the Indian and his dress. With great
difficulty, the English succeeded in obtaining the murderer. The
savages threw every possible impediment in the way of justice, and
assumed such a threatening attitude as to put the colonists to great
trouble and expense in preparing for war.
In view of such perils, in the year 1645, the colonies of
Massachusetts, Plymouth, Connecticut, and New Haven formed a
confederacy, under the name of the _United Colonies of New England_.
They thus entered into an alliance offensive and defensive. Each
colony retained, in its domestic concerns, its own government and
jurisdiction. Two commissioners from each colony formed a board for
managing the common affairs of the Confederacy. This was the germ of
the present Congress of the United States.
In the year 1646 a large number of Indians formed a conspiracy to set
fire to Hartford and murder the inhabitants. An Indian who was engaged
to assassinate the governor, terrified, as he remembered that every
one who had thus far murdered an Englishman had been arrested and
executed, revealed the plot. The Indians generally, at this time,
manifested a very hostile spirit, and many outrages were perpetrated.
The English did not deem it prudent to pursue and punish the
conspirators, but overlooked the offense.
In the wars which the savages waged with each other, the hostile
parties would pursue their victims even into the houses of the
English, and cut them down before the eyes of the horror-stricken
women and children. In a very dry time the Indians set fire to the
woods all around the town of Milford, hoping thus to set fire to the
town. With the greatest difficulty the inhabitants rescued their
dwellings from the flames.
In the year 1648, marauding bands of the Narragansets committed
intolerable outrages against the people of Rhode Island, killing their
cattle, robbing their houses, and insulting and even beating the
inmates. The colonists were exceedingly perplexed to know what to do
in these emergencies. The whole wilderness of North America was filled
with savages. If they commenced a general war, it was impossible to
predict how far its ravages might extend. The colonists were eminently
men of peace. They wished to build houses, and cultivate fields, and
surround their homes with the comforts and the opulence of a high
civilization. They had bought their lands of the Indians fairly, and
had paid for them all that the lands then were worth.
Massasoit died about the year 1661. He remained firm in his fidelity
to the English until his death, though very hostile to the conversion
of the Indians to Christianity. At one time, when treating for the
sale of some of his lands in Swanzey, he insisted very pertinaciously
upon the condition that the English should never attempt to draw off
any of his people from their religion to Christianity. He would not
recede from this condition until he found that the treaty must be
broken off unless he yielded.
As the English found many of the Indian names hard to remember and to
pronounce, they were fond of giving English names to those with whom
they had frequent intercourse. The Indians in general were quite proud
of receiving these names. Massasoit, with that innate dignity which
pertained to his imperial state, disdained to receive any other name
but the one which he proudly bore as his ancestral legacy. A few years
before his death, however, he brought his two sons, Wamsutta and
Pometacom, to Plymouth, and requested the governor, in token of
friendship, to give them English names. They were very bright,
attractive young men, of the finest physical development. The governor
related to Massasoit the history of the renowned kings of Macedon,
Philip and Alexander, and gave to Wamsutta, the oldest, the name of
Alexander, the great warrior of Asia, and to Pometacom, the younger,
the less renowned name of Philip. These two young men had married
sisters, the daughters of the sachem of Pocasset. The name of the wife
of Alexander was Wetamoo, an unfortunate princess who became quite
illustrious in subsequent scenes. The wife of Philip had the
euphonious name of Wootonekanuske.
Upon the death of Massasoit, his eldest son Alexander was invested
with the chieftainship. The lands of the Indians were now very rapidly
passing away from the native proprietors to the new-comers, and
English settlements were every where springing up in the wilderness.
The Indian power was evidently declining, while that of the white man
was on the increase. With prosperity came avarice. Unprincipled men
flocked to the colonies; the Indians were despised, and often harshly
treated; and the forbearance which marked the early intercourse of the
Pilgrims with the natives was forgotten. The colonists had generally
become exasperated with the outrages of lawless vagabond savages, whom
the sachems could not restrain, and who ranged the country, shooting
their cattle, pillaging their houses, and often committing murder. A
hungry savage was as ready to shoot a heifer in the pasture as a deer
in the forest, if he could do so and escape detection. There thus very
naturally grew up, upon both sides, a spirit of alienation and
suspicion.
Alexander kept aloof from the English, and was cold and reserved
whenever he met them. Rumors began to float through the air that the
Wampanoags were meditating hostilities. Some of the colonists, who had
been called by business to Narraganset, wrote to Governor Prince, at
Plymouth, that Alexander was making preparations for war, and that he
was endeavoring to persuade the Narragansets to unite with him in a
general assault upon the English settlements. Governor Prince
immediately sent a messenger to Alexander, at Mount Hope, informing
him of these reports of his hostile intentions which were in
circulation, and requesting him to attend the next court in Plymouth
to vindicate himself from these charges.
Alexander apparently received this message in a very friendly spirit.
He assured Captain Willet, the messenger, that the accusation was a
gross slander; that the Narragansets were his unrelenting foes; and
that they had fabricated the story that they might alienate from him
his good friends the English. He promised that he would attend the
next meeting of the court at Plymouth, and prove the truth of these
declarations.
Notwithstanding this ostensible sincerity and friendliness, various
circumstances concurred to increase suspicion. When the court
assembled, Alexander, instead of making his appearance according to
his agreement, was found to be on a visit to the sachem of the
Narragansets, his pretended enemies. Upon this, Governor Prince
assembled his counselors, and, after deliberation, ordered Major
Winslow, afterward governor of the colony, to take an armed band, go
to Mount Hope, seize Alexander by surprise before he should have time
to rally his warriors around him, and take him by force to Plymouth.
Major Winslow immediately set out, with ten men, from Marshfield,
intending to increase his force from the towns nearer to Mount Hope.
When about half way between Plymouth and Bridgewater, they came to a
large pond, probably Monponsett Pond, in the present town of Halifax.
Upon the margin of this sheet of water they saw an Indian hunting
lodge, and soon ascertained that it was one of the several transient
residences of Alexander, and that he was then there, with a large
party of his warriors, on a hunting and fishing excursion.
The colonists cautiously approached, and saw that the guns of the
Indians were all stacked outside of the lodge, at some distance, and
that the whole party were in the house engaged in a banquet. As the
Wampanoags were then, and had been for forty years, at peace with the
English, and as they were not at war with any other people, and were
in the very heart of their own territories, no precautions whatever
were adopted against surprise.
Major Winslow dispatched a portion of his force to seize the guns of
the Indians, and with the rest entered the hut. The savages, eighty in
number, manifested neither surprise nor alarm in seeing the English,
and were apparently quite unsuspicious of danger. Major Winslow
requested Alexander to walk out with him for a few moments, and then,
through an interpreter, informed the proud Indian chieftain that he
was to be taken under arrest to Plymouth, there to answer to the
charge of plotting against the English. The haughty savage, as soon as
he fully comprehended the statement, was in a towering rage. He
returned to his companions, and declared that he would not submit to
such an indignity. He felt as the President of the United States would
feel in being arrested by a sheriff sent from the Governor of Canada,
commanding him to submit to be taken to Quebec to answer there to
charges to be brought against him. The demand was of a nature to
preclude the exercise of courtesy. As there were some indications of
resistance, the stern major presented a pistol to the breast of the
Indian chieftain, and said,
"I am ordered to take you to Plymouth. God willing, I shall do it, at
whatever hazard. If you submit peacefully, you shall receive
respectful usage. If you resist, you shall die upon the spot."
The Indians were disarmed. They could do nothing. Alexander was almost
insane with vexation and rage in finding himself thus insulted, and
yet incapable of making any resistance. His followers, conscious of
the utter helplessness of their state, entreated him not to resort to
violence, which would only result in his death. They urged him to
yield to necessity, assuring him that they would accompany him as his
retinue, that he might appear in Plymouth with the dignity befitting
his rank.
The colonists immediately commenced their return to Plymouth with
their illustrious captive. There was a large party of Indian warriors
in the train, with Wetamoo, the wife of Alexander, and several other
Indian women. The day was intensely hot, and a horse was offered to
the chieftain that he might ride. He declined the offer, preferring to
walk with his friends. When they arrived at Duxbury, as they were not
willing to thrust Alexander into a prison, Major Winslow received him
into his own house, where he guarded him with vigilance, yet treated
him courteously, until orders could be received from Governor Prince,
who resided on the Cape at Eastham. At Duxbury, Alexander and his
train were entertained for several days with the most scrupulous
hospitality. But the imperial spirit of the Wampanoag chieftain was so
tortured by the humiliation to which he was exposed that he was thrown
into a burning fever. The best medical attendance was furnished, and
he was nursed with the utmost care, but he grew daily worse, and soon
serious fears were entertained that he would die.
The Indian warriors, greatly alarmed for their beloved chieftain,
entreated that they might be permitted to take Alexander home,
promising that they would return with him as soon as he had recovered,
and that, in the mean time, the son of Alexander should be sent to the
English as a hostage. The court assented to this arrangement. The
Indians took their unhappy king, dying of a crushed spirit, upon a
litter on their shoulders, and entered the trails of the forest.
Slowly they traveled with their burden until they arrived at Tethquet,
now Taunton River. There they took canoes. They had not, however,
paddled far down the stream before it became evident that their
monarch was dying. They placed him upon a grassy mound beneath a
majestic tree, and in silence the stoical warriors gathered around to
witness the departure of his spirit to the realms of the Red Man's
immortality.
What a scene for the painter! The sublimity of the forest, the glassy
stream, meandering beneath the overshadowing trees, the bark canoes of
the natives moored to the shore, the dying chieftain, with his
warriors assembled in stern sadness around him, and the beautiful and
heroic Wetamoo, holding in her lap the head of her dying lord as she
wiped his clammy brow, nursing those emotions of revenge which finally
desolated the three colonies with flame, blood, and woe.
[Illustration: THE DEATH OF ALEXANDER.]
The tragic death of Alexander introduced to the throne his brother
Pometacom, whom the English named King Philip.
Much has been written respecting the Indian's disregard for woman. The
history of Wetamoo proves that these views have been very greatly
exaggerated, or that they admit of very marked exceptions. Wetamoo
immediately became the unrelenting foe of the English. With all the
fervor of her fresh nature, she studied to avenge her husband's death.
This one idea became the controlling principle of her future life.
That Wamsutta's death was caused by the anguish of a wounded spirit no
colonist doubted; but Wetamoo believed, and most of the Indians
believed, that poison had been administered to the captive monarch,
and that he thus perished the victim of foul murder. Wetamoo was an
energetic, and, for a savage, a noble woman. All the energies of her
soul were aroused to avenge her husband's death. She was by birth the
princess of another tribe, and it appears that she had power, woman
though she was, to lead three hundred warriors into the field.
Philip was a man of superior endowments. He clearly understood the
power of the English, and the peril to be encountered in waging war
against them. And yet he as distinctly saw that, unless the
encroachments of the English could be arrested, his own race was
doomed to destruction. At one time he was quite interested in the
Christian religion; but apparently foreseeing that, with the
introduction of Christianity, all the peculiarities of manners and
customs in Indian life must pass away, he adopted the views of his
father, Massasoit, and became bitterly opposed to any change of
religion among his people. Mr. Gookin, speaking of the Wampanoags,
says:
"There are some that have hopes of their greatest and
chiefest sachem, named Philip. Some of his chief men, as I
hear, stand well-inclined to hear the Gospel, and himself is
a person of good understanding and knowledge in the best
things. I have heard him speak very good words, arguing that
his conscience is convicted. But yet, though his will is
bound to embrace Jesus Christ, his sensual and carnal lusts
are strong bands to hold him fast under Satan's dominion."
Some time after this, Rev. Mr. Elliot records that, in conversation
with King Philip upon the subject of religion, the Wampanoag chieftain
took hold of a button upon Mr. Elliot's coat, and said, very
deliberately,
"Mr. Elliot, I care no more for the Gospel of Jesus Christ than I do
for that button."
For nine years Philip was probably brooding over the subject of the
encroachments of the English, and the waning power of the Indians.
This was the inevitable result of the idle, vagabond life of the
Indians, and of the industry and energy of the colonists. The Indians
had not thus far been defrauded. Mr. Josiah Winslow, governor of
Plymouth Colony, writes, in a letter dated May 1, 1676:
"I think I can truly say that, before these present troubles
broke out, the English did not possess one foot of land in
this colony but what was fairly obtained by honest purchase
of the Indian proprietors."
The discontent of Philip did not, however, escape the notice of the
English, and for a long time they saw increasing indications that a
storm was gathering. The wary monarch, with continued protestations of
friendship, was evidently accumulating resources, strengthening
alliances, and distributing more extensively among the Indians guns
and other weapons of Indian warfare. His warriors soon rivaled the
white men in skill as sharp-shooters, and became very adroit in the
use of their weapons. They were carefully laying up stores of powder
and bullets, and Philip could not conceal the interest with which he
endeavored to learn how to manufacture gunpowder.
Under this state of affairs, it is easy to perceive that mutual
suspicions and recriminations must have rapidly ensued. The Indians
and the colonists, year after year, became more exasperated against
each other. The dangers of collision were constantly growing more
imminent. Many deeds of violence and aggression were perpetrated by
individuals upon each side. Still, candor compels us to admit, as we
carefully read the record of those days, that the English were very
far from being patterns of meekness and long-suffering. Haughtiness
and intolerance when in power has marked the career of our venerated,
yet far from faultless ancestors in every quarter of the globe.
The Narraganset tribe had now lost its pre-eminence. Canonicus had
long since died, at the age of eighty years. Miantunnomah had been
taken prisoner by the Mohegans, and had been executed upon the plain
of Norwich. Ninigret, who was now sovereign chief of the Narragansets,
was old, infirm, and imbecile. His character illustrates the saying of
Napoleon, that "_better is it to have an army of deer led by a lion,
than an army of lions led by a deer_."
Philip, by his commanding genius and daring spirit, had now obtained
a great ascendency over all the New England tribes excepting the
Mohegans. They, under Uncas, were strongly attached to the English, to
whom they were indebted for their very existence. The character of
Philip is illustrated by the following incident. In 1665, he heard
that an Indian had spoken disrespectfully of his father, Massasoit. To
avenge the insult, he pursued the offender from place to place, until,
at last, he tracked him to the island of Nantucket. Taking a canoe,
Philip proceeded to the island. Assasamooyh, who, by speaking ill of
the dead, had, according to Indian law, forfeited his life, was a
Christian Indian. He was sitting at the table of one of the colonists,
when a messenger rushed in breathlessly, and informed him that the
dreaded avenger was near the door. Assasamooyh had but just time to
rush from the house when Philip was upon him. The Indian fled like a
frighted deer, pursued by the vengeful chieftain. From house to house
the pursued and his pursuer rushed, while the English looked with
amazement at this exhibition of the energy of Indian law. According to
their code, whoever spoke ill of the dead was to forfeit life at the
hand of the nearest relative. Thus Philip, with his brandished
tomahawk, considered himself but the honored executor of justice.
Assasamooyh, however, at length leaped a bank, and, plunging into the
forest, eluded his foe. The English then succeeded, by a very heavy
ransom, in purchasing his life, and Philip returned to Mount Hope,
feeling that his father's memory had been suitably avenged.
In the year 1671, the English, alarmed by the threatening aspect of
affairs, and seeing increasing indications that Philip was preparing
for hostilities, sent an imperious command to him to come to Taunton
and explain his conduct. For some time Philip made sundry rather weak
excuses for not complying with this demand, at the same time
reiterating assurances of his friendly feelings. He was, as yet, quite
unprepared for war, and was very reluctant to precipitate hostilities,
which he had sufficient sagacity to foresee would involve him in ruin,
unless he could first form such a coalition of the Indian tribes as
would enable him to attack all the English settlements at one and the
same time. At length, however, he found that he could no longer refuse
to give some explanation of the measures he was adopting without
giving fatal strength to the suspicions against him.
Accordingly, on the 10th of April of this year, he took with him a
band of warriors, armed to the teeth, and painted and decorated with
the most brilliant trappings of barbarian splendor, and approached
within four miles of Taunton. Here the proud monarch of the Wampanoags
established his encampment, and, with native-taught punctiliousness,
sent a message to the English governor, informing him of his arrival
at that spot, and requiring him to come and treat with him there. The
governor, either afraid to meet these warriors in their own
encampment, or deeming it beneath his dignity to attend the summons of
an Indian chieftain, sent Roger Williams, with several other
messengers, to assure Philip of his friendly feelings, and to entreat
him to continue his journey to Taunton, as a more convenient place for
their conference. Philip, with caution which subsequent events proved
to have been well timed, detained these messengers as hostages for his
safe return, and then, with an imposing retinue of his painted braves,
proudly strode forward toward the town of Taunton.
When he arrived at a hill upon the outskirts of the village, he again
halted, and warily established sentinels around his encampment. The
governor and magistrates of Massachusetts, apprehensive that the
Plymouth people might get embroiled in a war with the Indians, and
anxious, if possible, to avert so terrible a calamity, had dispatched
three commissioners to Taunton to endeavor to promote reconciliation
between the Plymouth colony and Philip. These commissioners were now
in conference with the Plymouth court. When Philip appeared upon the
hill, the Plymouth magistrates, exasperated by many outrages, were
quite eager to march and attack him, and take his whole party
prisoners, and hold them as hostages for the good behavior of the
Indians. With no little difficulty the Massachusetts commissioners
overruled this rash design, and consented to go out themselves and
persuade Philip to come in and confer in a friendly manner upon the
adjustment of their affairs.
Philip received the Massachusetts men with reserve, but with much
courtesy. At first he refused to advance any farther, but declared
that those who wished to confer with him must come where he was. At
length, however, he consented to refer the difficulties which existed
between him and the Plymouth colony to the Massachusetts
commissioners, and to hold the conference in the Taunton
meeting-house. But, that he might meet his accusers upon the basis of
perfect equality, he demanded that one half of the meeting-house
should be appropriated sacredly to himself and his followers, while
the Plymouth people, his accusers, should occupy the other half. The
Massachusetts commissioners, three gentlemen, were to sit alone as
umpires. We can not but admire the character developed by Philip in
these arrangements.
Philip managed his cause, which was manifestly a bad one, with great
adroitness. Talleyrand and Metternich would have given him a high
position among European diplomatists. He could not deny that he was
making great military preparations, but he declared that this was only
in anticipation of an attack from the Narraganset Indians. But it was
proved that at that moment he was on terms of more intimate friendship
with the Narragansets than ever before. He also brought charge for
charge against the English; and it can not be doubted that he and his
people had suffered much from the arrogance of individuals of the
domineering race. Philip has had no one to tell his story, and we have
received the narrative only from the pens of his foes. They tell us
that he was at length confounded, and made full confession of his
hostile designs, and expressed regret for them.
As a result of the conference, all past grievances were to be buried
in oblivion, and a treaty was entered into in which mutual friendship
was pledged, and in which Philip consented to the extraordinary
measure of disarming his people, and of surrendering their guns to the
governor of Plymouth, to be retained by him so long as he should
distrust the sincerity of their friendship. Philip and his warriors
immediately gave up their guns, seventy in number, and promised to
send in the rest within a given time.
It is difficult to conceive how the Indians could have
understandingly, and in good faith, have made such a treaty. The
English had now been fifty years in the country. The Indians had
become familiar with the use of guns. Bows and arrows had long since
been laid aside. As game was with them an important element of food,
the loss of their guns was apparently a very serious calamity. It is
not improbable that the English magistrates humanely hoped, by taking
away the guns of the Indians, to lead them from the precarious and
vagabond life of hunters to the more refining influences of
agriculture. But it is very certain that the Indians cherished no such
views. It was also agreed in the council that, in case of future
troubles, both parties should submit their complaints to the
arbitration of Massachusetts.
This settlement, apparently so important, amounted to nothing. The
Indians were ever ready, it is said, to sign any agreement whatever
which would extricate them from a momentary difficulty; but such
promises were broken as promptly as they were made. Philip, having
returned to Mount Hope, sent in no more guns, but was busy as ever
gaining resources for war, and entering into alliances with other
tribes. Philip denied this, but the people of Plymouth thought that
they had ample evidence that such was the case.
The summer thus passed away, while the aspect of affairs was daily
growing more threatening. As Philip did not send in his guns according
to agreement, and as there was evidence, apparently conclusive, of his
hostile intentions, the Plymouth government, late in August, sent
another summons, ordering the Wampanoag sovereign to appear before
them on the 13th of September, and threatening, in case he did not
comply with this summons, to send out a force to reduce him to
subjection. At the same time, they sent communications to the colonies
of Massachusetts and Rhode Island, stating their complaints against
Philip, and soliciting their aid in the war which they thought
evidently approaching.
In this movement Philip gained a manifest advantage over the Plymouth
colonists. It will be remembered that, according to the terms of the
treaty, all future difficulties were to be referred to the arbitration
of Massachusetts as an impartial umpire. But Plymouth had now, in
violation of these terms, imperiously summoned the Indian chieftain,
as if he were their subject, to appear before their courts. Philip,
instead of paying any regard to this arrogant order, immediately
repaired to Boston with his councilors, and thus manifestly placed
himself in the position of the "law and order" party. It so happened
that he arrived in Boston on the very day in which the Governor of
Massachusetts received the letter from the Plymouth colony. The
representations which Philip made seemed to carry conviction to the
impartial umpires of Massachusetts that he was not severely to be
censured. They accordingly wrote a letter to Plymouth, assuming that
there was perhaps equal blame on both sides, and declaring that there
did not appear to be sufficient cause for the Plymouth people to
commence hostilities. In their letter they write:
"We do not understand how Philip hath subjected himself to
you. But the treatment you have given him, and your
proceedings toward him, do not render him such a subject as
that, if there be not a present answering to summons, there
should presently be a proceeding to hostilities. The sword
once drawn and dipped in blood, may make him as independent
upon you as you are upon him."
Arrangements were now made for a general council from the united
colonies to assemble at Plymouth on the 24th of September. King Philip
agreed to meet this council in a new attempt to adjust all their
difficulties. At the appointed time the assembly was convened. King
Philip was present, with a retinue of warriors, all decorated in the
highest style of barbaric splendor. Bitter complaints were entered
upon both sides, and neither party were disposed to draw any very
marked line of distinction between individual acts of outrage and the
measures for which the two governments were responsible. Another
treaty was, however, made, similar to the Taunton treaty, and the two
parties again separated with protestations of friendship, but quite
hostile as ever at heart. The colonists were, however, all anxious to
avoid a war, as they had every thing to lose by it and nothing to
gain. Philip, on the contrary, deemed the salvation of the Indians was
depending upon the extermination of the colonists. He was well aware
that he was quite unprepared for immediate hostilities, and that he
had much to do in the way of preparation before he could hope
successfully to encounter foes so formidable as the English had now
become.
Three years now passed away of reserved intercourse and suspicious
peace. The colonists were continually hearing rumors from distant
tribes of Philip's endeavors, and generally successful endeavors, to
draw them into a coalition. The conspiracy, so far as it could be
ascertained, included nearly all the tribes of New England, and
extended into the interior of New York, and along the coast to
Virginia. The Narragansets agreed to furnish four thousand warriors.
Other tribes, according to their power, were to furnish their hundreds
or their thousands. Hostilities were to be commenced in the spring of
1676 by a simultaneous assault upon all the settlements, so that none
of the English could go from one portion of the country to aid
another.
The English, month after month, saw this cloud of terror increasing in
blackness; yet measures were so adroitly adopted by King Philip that,
while the air was filled with rumors, it was difficult to obtain any
positive proof, and still more difficult to decide what course to
pursue to avert the calamity. As these deep-laid plans of the shrewd
Wampanoag chieftain were approaching maturity, Philip became more
independent and bold in his demeanor. The Massachusetts colonists now
began to feel that the danger was indeed imminent, and that their
Plymouth brethren had more cause for complaint than they had supposed.
The evidence became so convincing that this dreadful conspiracy was in
progress, that the Governor of Massachusetts sent an embassador to
Philip, demanding an explanation of these threatening appearances, and
soliciting another treaty of peace and friendship. The proud sachem
haughtily replied to the embassador,
"Your governor is but a subject of King Charles of England. I shall
not treat with a subject. I shall only treat with the king, my
brother. When he comes, I am ready."
Such was the alarming aspect of affairs at the close of the year 1674.