_The Indians._
Two Savages on the Hill.--The Return of Samoset with Squantum.--The
Story of Squantum.--The Visit of Massasoit and His Warriors.--
Etiquette of the Barbarian and Pilgrim Courts.--The Treaty.--
Return of the Mayflower to England.--A View of Plymouth.--
Brighter Days.--Visit of Messrs. Winslow and Hopkins to the Seat
of Massasoit.--Incidents of the Journey.
Several days passed, and the Indians, who had retired into the forest,
did not return. The cottages of the Pilgrims, each man building his
own, had now become habitable, and Monday and Tuesday, the weather
being fair, they were busy digging the ground and sowing their garden
seeds. On Wednesday morning, the 21st of March, Samoset was sent into
the woods to ascertain why the Indians did not come back according
to their promise. He had but just disappeared in the forest when two
savages, in war costume and thoroughly armed, appeared upon the hill,
on the other side of Town Brook--the same eminence upon which the two
Indians had appeared on the 17th of February--and brandishing their
weapons, with every demonstration of hostility, seemed to bid the
new-comers defiance. This was probably one of the acts in their drama
of incantation.
Captain Standish, who was ever prompt to assume any office of danger,
took a companion with him and advanced to meet the challengers. They
both took their muskets, but carefully avoided any attitude of menace.
Two other Pilgrims followed, at a little distance, also with their
muskets, to render aid should there be any rush of the Indians from an
ambush. But before Captain Standish had arrived within arrow-shot of
the natives they both turned, as before, and fled.
In consequence of sickness and the imperfect accommodations on the
shore, several of the Pilgrim company had thus far remained on board
the Mayflower. To-day, however, the shallop brought them all to the
land, and their colonizing became complete. One-half of the crew of
the ship had already died; and so many of the remainder were enfeebled
by sickness that Captain Jones did not deem it safe to undertake his
return voyage in so crippled a condition. A month passed before the
sick and his diminished crew were so far recovered as to allow him to
venture to set sail.
The sun of Thursday morning, with healing in its beams, rose bright and
warm over the busy little village of the exiles. The dreary winter had
manifestly passed. The sick were generally recovering, and there was
presented a very cheering scene of peace, industry and happiness. At
noon all the men had met upon some public business, when, in the midst
of their deliberations, they saw Samoset returning, accompanied by
three other Indians. The name of one was Squantum, and it was said that
he was the only surviving member of the Patuxat tribe, who had formerly
occupied the territory upon which the Pilgrims had now settled.
His story, undoubtedly truthful, was that he was one of the men whom
Captain Hunt had so infamously kidnapped. He had been carried to Spain
and sold there as a slave. A humane Englishman, whose name we love to
perpetuate, Mr. John Slaney, chanced to meet the poor fugitive. He
liberated him, took him to England, and treated him with that truly
fraternal kindness which Christianity enjoins upon all men. At length
he had an opportunity to send Squantum back to his native land.
Good deeds and bad deeds ever bear their corresponding fruit. As the
treachery of the miserable Hunt caused the hostility of the Indians,
the massacre of the shipwrecked Frenchmen, and the attack at the First
Encounter, so did the brotherly kindness of good John Slaney secure
for the Pilgrims, in their hour of need, a permanent and influential
friend. Squantum, forgetting the outrage of the knave who had
kidnapped him, remembered only the kindness of his benefactor. His
residence in England had rendered him quite familiar with the English
language, and he became invaluable to the Pilgrims as an interpreter.
He attached himself cordially to them, and taught them many things of
great value in their new life in the wilderness. And when, after many
years, he died, the good old man was heard praying that God would take
him to the heaven of the white men.
Squantum had joined the powerful tribe of the Wampanoags, his own tribe
having become extinct. These Indians brought with them a few skins to
sell, and some dried red herrings; and they also announced the rather
startling intelligence that their great Sagamore, or King Massasoit,
accompanied by his brother Quadequina and a retinue of sixty warriors,
was near at hand to pay the Pilgrims a friendly visit.
After the lapse of an hour Massasoit appeared on the top of Watson’s
Hill with his plumed warriors. From that eminence, distant about a
quarter of a mile, they had a perfect view of the little village, and
were conspicuously exposed to the view of the Pilgrims. Under the
circumstances, knowing not what might be the treachery of the Indians,
Captain Standish did not deem it safe to allow so powerful a band
of armed savages to enter the village, or to allow any considerable
band of his weak force to withdraw from behind the intrenchments which
they had reared, and to go out to meet the royal retinue. Neither did
Massasoit deem it prudent to place himself in the power of the white
men, whom the treachery of Hunt had caused him to dread.
After several messages had passed to and fro between the two parties,
through Squantum, their interpreter, Massasoit, who, though unlettered,
proved himself to be a man of much sagacity, proposed that the Pilgrims
should send one of their men to his encampment to communicate to him
their designs in settling upon lands which had belonged to one of his
vassal tribes. Mr. Edward Winslow consented to go upon this important
and somewhat hazardous mission. He took, as a present to the barbarian
monarch, two skins and a copper necklace, with a jewel attached to
it. He also took to Quadequina a knife, an ear-ring, consisting of a
pendent jewel, some biscuit and butter, and, we are sorry to add, a jug
of rum; but those were the days of ignorance which God winked at.
Mr. Winslow, accompanied by Squantum, as his interpreter, crossed the
brook, ascended Watson’s Hill, and presented himself before the Indian
chief. “Our messenger,” writes Mourt, “made a speech unto him, that
King James saluted him with words of love and peace, and did accept
him as his friend and ally; and that our Governor desired to see him,
and to truck with him, and to confirm a peace with him, as his next
neighbor.”
Massasoit listened attentively to the speech, as communicated to him by
the interpreter, and seemed much pleased with it. In token of amity,
they had a little feast together. Massasoit seemed much impressed with
the long and glittering sword which hung by the side of Mr. Winslow,
and expressed a strong desire to purchase it; but Mr. Winslow could not
consent to part with the weapon.
After a pleasant and very friendly interview, Massasoit, cautiously
leaving Mr. Winslow as a hostage in the custody of his brother
Quadequina, came down to the brook with twenty men, as his retinue,
all unarmed. Six of them were sent into the village, as hostages in
exchange for Mr. Winslow.
Then Captain Standish, with one companion, probably Mr. Thomas
Williams, and followed by half a dozen musketeers, advanced to the
brook to meet the royal guest and to escort him, with all due honor,
to the presence of their Governor. A salute of six muskets was fired,
and the monarch with his Indian band was led to an unfinished house
which had been hastily decorated for their reception. It was deemed
important to arrange something of an imposing pageant to impress the
minds of their barbarian visitors. Two or three cushions were laid
down, covered with a green carpet, as seats for the Indian chief and
for the Governor in this important interview. As soon as Massasoit was
seated the music of drums and of a trumpet was heard, and Governor
Carver, with a suitable retinue, entered. Gracefully he took the hand
of Massasoit and kissed it. In accordance with the mistaken views of
hospitality in those days, ardent spirits were brought forward to
regale the guests. This was probably the first time Massasoit had ever
seen the accursed liquid, and he was entirely unacquainted with its
fiery nature. The Indian chieftain, deeming it a part of politeness
to partake generously of the entertainment provided for him, when the
goblet was presented, “drunk a great draft which made him sweat all the
while after.”
Massasoit was a remarkable man. He was of majestic stature, in the
prime of life, of grave and stately demeanor, reserved in speech, and
ever proving faithful to all his obligations. He wore a chain of white
bone beads about his neck, and a little bag of tobacco, from which he
smoked himself and presented to Governor Carver to smoke. His face
was painted of a deep red color, and his hair and face so oiled as to
present a very glossy appearance. His followers were also all painted,
in various styles and of various colors. Some were partially clothed
in skins, others were nearly naked. They were all tall, powerful men.
After much friendly deliberation, the Governor and Massasoit entered
into the following very simple, but comprehensive treaty of peace and
alliance:
1. The Sagamore pledged himself that none of his men should do any harm
to the Pilgrims; and that, if any harm were done, the offender should
be sent to them that they might punish them.
2. That, if any property belonging to the white men should be taken
away, it should be restored, Governor Carver agreeing to the same in
reference to his party.
3. The Governor agreed that if any Indian tribe should wage an unjust
war against Massasoit, he would help him; Massasoit agreeing in the
same way to aid the Pilgrims, should they be assailed.
4. Massasoit pledged himself to send word to all his confederate tribes
that he had entered into this alliance with the white men, and to
enjoin its faithful observance upon them.
5. Finally, it was agreed that whenever any of the Indians visited the
settlement of the white men, they should leave their arms behind them.
The Pilgrims were also bound always to go unarmed whenever they should
visit the residence of the Indian chief.
As evening approached, Massasoit and his followers withdrew. The
Governor accompanied him to the brook, where they embraced and
separated. The six Indian hostages were retained until Mr. Winslow
should be returned. But soon word was brought that Quadequina wished to
make them a short visit. He soon appeared, with quite a troop around
him. He was a young man, tall, modest and gentlemanly. He was also
conducted, with music of drum and fife, to the Governor. He seemed
very much afraid of the muskets; and to calm his manifest fears they
were laid aside. After a short interview he returned to the hill,
and Mr. Winslow came back to the camp. The Indian hostages were also
then released. The scenes of the day had inspired them with so much
confidence in the Pilgrims that two of them wished to remain all night.
But Captain Standish did not deem it prudent to grant their request.
Samoset and Squantum remained with the Pilgrims. Massasoit withdrew
his party from the hill, about half a mile south into the forest, and
there they encamped for the night. Their wives and children were with
them there. During the night both parties kept up a vigilant watch,
for neither had, as yet, full confidence in the other. In the morning
several of the Indians came into the settlement, according to their
agreement, unarmed. They said that in a few days they should come to
the other side of the brook and plant corn, and remain there with their
families all summer. The king sent an invitation to have some of the
Pilgrims visit him.
“Captain Standish and Israel Alderton,” writes Mourt, “went
venturously, who were welcomed of him after their manner. He gave them
three or four ground nuts and some tobacco. We cannot yet conceive
but that he is willing to have peace with us; for they have seen our
people sometimes alone, two or three in the woods, at work and fowling,
when they offered them no harm, as they might easily have done, and
especially as he has a potent adversary in the Narragansets, that are
at war with him, against whom he thinks we may be some strength to him,
for our pieces are terrible unto them.”
The English visitors remained in the encampment of Massasoit until
about eleven o’clock. Governor Carver sent by them to the chief
a kettleful of peas, which the Indians seemed to regard as truly
a princely gift. The next day, Friday, it was again pleasant.
Squantum, who with Samoset, still remained with the Pilgrims, went
to a neighboring creek, since appropriately called Eel River, and at
night came home with as many eels as he could carry. “They were fat
and sweet. He trod them out with his feet, and so caught them with
his hands, without any other instrument.” In a comparatively recent
history of Plymouth, it is stated that a hundred and fifty barrels of
eels are annually taken from that creek. The Pilgrims on that day held
a general meeting, to conclude some military arrangements, to enact
certain needful laws, and to choose a Governor for the year. The choice
fell, with apparently great unanimity, upon the then incumbent, Mr.
John Carver.
In Young’s Chronicle of the Pilgrims we find a note containing the
following statement: “It will be recollected that Carver had been
chosen Governor on the 11th of November, the same day on which the
Compact was signed. It was now the 23d of March, and the new year
commencing on the 25th, according to the calendar then in use, Carver
was re-elected for the ensuing year.”
Pleasant summer days now came, and glided rapidly away, with nothing
occurring of essential importance. Friendly relations were established
with the Indians, and the affairs of the colony seemed as prosperous
as, under the circumstances, could be expected. On the 5th of April the
Mayflower weighed anchor and set sail on her return voyage to England.
She had but one-half of the crew with which she had sailed from Old
Plymouth. The rest had fallen victims to the winter’s sickness. It is
remarkable that, notwithstanding the hardships to which the Pilgrims
were exposed, not one was disposed to abandon the enterprise and return
in the ship. When the Mayflower left, there remained in the colony but
fifty-five persons. Of these, nineteen only were men. The remaining
thirty-six were women, children and servants.
Scarcely had the ship disappeared over the distant horizon, ere
Governor Carver, “oppressed by his great care and pains for the common
good,” on one hot April noon returned from the field, complaining of
a severe pain in his head, probably caused by a sunstroke. He soon
became delirious, and, in a few days, died. It was a severe loss to the
colony, and they mourned over him with great lamentation and heaviness.
He was buried with all the imposing ceremonies of sorrow which the
feeble colony could arrange. His wife, overwhelmed with grief in view
of her terrible loss, in a few weeks followed her husband to the grave.
Soon after, Mr. William Bradford, who was then in a state of great
debility from his recent sickness, was chosen his successor.
The settlers, having no animals to draw the plough, were laboriously
opening the ground near their dwellings with the spade. Six acres they
sowed with barley and peas. Fortunately they had ten bushels of corn
for seed. With this they planted twenty acres, Squantum showing them
how to plant and hill it. Berries were found in abundance in the
woods, as the season advanced, and a very grateful supply of grapes.
Mr. Palfrey, in his admirable History of New England, writes very
pleasantly, “A visitor to Plymouth during this summer, as he landed, on
the southern side of a high bluff, would have seen, standing between it
and a rapid little stream, a rude house of logs, twenty feet square,
containing the common property of the plantation. Proceeding up a
gentle declivity, between two rows of log cabins, nineteen in number,
some of them, perhaps, vacant since the death of their first tenants,
he would have come to a hill surmounted with a platform for cannon.
He might have counted twenty men at work with hoes, in the enclosures
about the huts, or fishing in the shallow harbor, or visiting the woods
or beach for game; while six or eight women were busy in household
affairs, and some twenty children, from infancy upwards, completed the
domestic picture.”
All fears of famine seem now to have passed away. In addition to the
stores which they brought with them they had an abundant supply of
fish, wild fowls and native fruits. On the 18th of June two of the
servants of Mr. Hopkins undertook to fight a duel with sword and
dagger. Both were wounded. The Pilgrims met in a body to adjudge the
penalty for so serious an offense. They were sentenced to be tied
together, by their head and feet, and thus to lie twenty-four hours,
without meat or drink. The punishment was begun to be inflicted, “But
within an hour, because of their great pains, at their own and their
master’s humble request, upon promise of better carriage, they are
released by the Governor.”
Early in July, Governor Bradford decided to send a deputation to visit
Massasoit. There were several objects he wished to accomplish by this
mission. First, it was desirable to ascertain where he lived and what
his strength was. He also wished to honor Massasoit by paying him a
friendly visit. Another consideration of no little importance which
influenced him was, that vagabond Indians were increasingly in the
habit of coming with their wives and children, loitering about the
village to the great annoyance of the settlers, and clamoring for food,
which they devoured with the voracity of famished wolves.
Mr. Winslow and Mr. Hopkins, accompanied by Squantum as their
interpreter, were appointed for this important mission. Mr. Winslow
has transmitted to us a minute account of the interesting adventure.
They left the village, probably on Tuesday morning, July 3d, bearing
the following message to Massasoit, with the present of a brilliant
horseman’s coat, of red cotton, gaudily laced.
“Inasmuch as your subjects come often and without fear, upon all
occasions amongst us, so we are now come unto you. In witness of the
love and good will the English bear you, our Governor has sent you a
coat, desiring that the peace and amity between us may be continued;
not that we fear you, but because we intend not to injure any one,
desiring to live peaceably, as with all men, so especially with you our
nearest neighbors.
“But whereas your people come very often, and very many together, unto
us, bringing for the most part their wives and children with them, they
are welcome. Yet we being but strangers, as yet, at Patuxet, or New
Plymouth, and not knowing how our corn may prosper, can no longer give
them such entertainment as we have done, and as we desire still to do.
Yet if you will be pleased to come yourself, or any special friend of
yours desires to see us, coming from you, they shall be welcome.
“And to the end that we may know them from others, our Governor has
sent you a copper chain, desiring that if any messenger should come
from you to us, we may know him by his bringing it with him, and may
give credit to his message accordingly.”
They then added the following, which we record with pleasure, as
showing the conscientiousness of these remarkable men:
“At our first arrival at Paomet, called by us Cape Cod, we found there
corn buried in the ground, and finding no inhabitants, but some graves
of the dead newly buried, took the corn, resolving that if ever we
could hear of any that had right thereunto, to make satisfaction to the
full for it. Yet since we understand the owners thereof had fled, for
fear of us, our desire is either to pay them with the like quantity of
corn, or with English meal, or any other commodities we have, which
they may desire. We request that some of your men may signify so much
unto them, and we will content him for his pains.
“Last of all, our Governor requested one favor of him, which was that
he would exchange some of their corn for seed, with us, that we might
make trial which was best agreed with the soil where we live.”
It was a warm and sunny day when the two Pilgrims, with their Indian
guide, set out on their adventurous journey through the forest. The
Indians, in their movements from place to place, however numerous the
party, always went, with moccasined feet, in single file, one following
after the other. The forests were threaded with many of these narrow
paths, or trails, which had thus been trodden by them through countless
generations. These paths were as well known by them, and almost as
distinctly marked, as the paved roads of the Old World which had
resounded with the tramp of the Roman legions. Indian instinct had,
ages ago, selected these routes, often through glooms which no rays
of the sun ever penetrated, and again through scenes of marvellous
picturesque beauty, beneath frowning mountains, along the margin of
crystal lakes, and upon the banks of sparkling rivulets.
Much to the annoyance of the two Pilgrims appointed upon this mission
a party of ten or twelve lazy Indians, men, women and children,
uninvited, persistently tagged after them, often very vexatiously
intrusive, and ever clamorous to share their food.
The first day they travelled about fifteen miles, to an Indian
village called Namasket. It was situated upon a branch of what is now
called the Taunton River, within the limits of the present town of
Middleborough.
“Thither we came,” writes Mr. Winslow, “about three o’clock after noon;
the inhabitants entertaining us with joy, in the best manner they
could, giving us a kind of bread called by them _maizium_,[12] and the
spawn of shads, which they then got in abundance, insomuch that they
gave us spoons to eat them. With these they boiled musty acorns; but of
the shads we ate heartily.”
These Indians had probably all heard of the wonderful power of the
muskets of the white men, though, perhaps, none of them had ever seen
the effects accomplished by powder and ball. The crows troubled their
corn fields, and it was almost impossible for the Indians to get near
enough to these wary animals to hit them with the arrow. They begged
their guests to show them the power of their guns by shooting some
of these crows. There was one upon a tree at the distance of about
two hundred and forty feet. With intense interest the Indians watched
as they saw one of the Pilgrims take deliberate aim at the bird, and
when they heard the report, and saw the bird fall dead, struck by an
invisible shaft, their astonishment passed all bounds. Several crows
were thus shot, exciting the admiration and awe of all the savage
beholders.
As Squantum told the Pilgrims that it was more than a day’s journey
from Namasket to Pokanoket, or Mount Hope, where Massasoit resided, and
that there was a good place to pass the night about eight miles further
on their way, they decided to resume their journey. About sunset
they reached a small group of Indians at a place now called Titicut,
on Taunton River, in the northwest part of Middleborough, adjoining
Bridgewater.
Here quite an attractive region presented itself to their eyes. The
land on both sides of the river had long been cleared, being entirely
free from trees or stumps, and had evidently waved with cornfields.
There were many indications that the place had formerly been quite
thickly inhabited. The plague, of which we have spoken, it is said, had
swept every individual into the grave. A few wandering outcast Indians
had come to this depopulated region to take fish. By means of a wear
in the river, which consisted of a sort of net or fence, constructed
of branches of trees and twigs, they caught an abundance of bass. They
had not erected any shelter for themselves, but were sleeping, like the
cattle, in the open air. These wretched savages had no food but fish
and roasted acorns. Very greedily they partook of the stores which the
Pilgrims brought with them. Liberally they were fed, “we not doubting,”
writes Mr. Winslow, “but that we should have enough where’er we came.”
The Pilgrims lodged that night in the open fields. The next morning,
at an early hour, after such frugal breakfast as the occasion could
furnish, they set out again upon their journey. Six savages followed
them. Having travelled about six miles, following down the banks of the
river, they came to a shoal place, where the stream could be forded.
This was undoubtedly at a spot now called Squabetty, three and a half
miles from Taunton Green.
“Here,” writes Mr. Winslow, “let me not forget the valor and courage of
some of the savages on the opposite side of the river; for there were
remaining alive only two men, both aged, especially the one being about
threescore. These two, espying a company of men entering the river,
ran very swiftly, and low in the grass, to meet us at the bank, where,
with shrill voices and great courage, standing, they charged upon us
with their bows, demanding who we were, supposing us to be enemies,
and thinking to take advantage of us in the water. But seeing we were
friends, they welcomed us with such food as they had, and we bestowed a
small bracelet of beads upon them.”
Here, after refreshing themselves, they continued their journey down
the western banks of the river. It was a very sultry July day, but the
country was beautiful, and abundantly watered with innumerable small
streams, and cool, bubbling springs. The savages would never drink of
the flowing brooks, but only at the spring heads. Very pleasantly Mr.
Winslow writes in reference to the amiability and obliging disposition
of these savages:
“When we came to any brook where no bridge was, two of them desired
to carry us through, of their own accord. Also, fearing that we were
or would be weary, they offered to carry our pieces. If we would lay
off any of our clothes, we should have them carried. And as the one
of them had found more special kindness from one of the messengers,
and the other savage from the other, so they showed their thankfulness
accordingly, in affording us all help and furtherance in the journey.”
It was very manifest to the travellers, as we have said, that they
were passing through a country which once had been crowded with a
population which but recently had been swept away. There were widely
extended fields, which had formerly been planted with corn, where there
was then to be seen but a rank growth of weeds, higher than a man’s
head. The region was pleasantly diversified with hills and plains,
often presenting extended forests of the most valuable timber. It was
a very noticeable and beautiful feature in these forests, that they
were entirely free of underbrush, presenting the aspect of the most
carefully-trimmed English park. Mr. Wood, who visited this region in
year 1633, writes:
“Whereas it is generally conceived that the woods grow so thick that
there is no more clear ground than is hewed out by labor of men, it
is nothing so; in many places divers acres being clear, so that one
may ride a hunting in most places of the land. There is no underwood,
saving in swamps and low grounds; for, it being the custom of the
Indians to burn the woods in November, when the grass is withered and
leaves dried, consumes all the underwood and rubbish, which otherwise
would overgrow the country, making it impassable, and spoil their
much-affected hunting. So that in these places there is scarce a bush
or bramble or any cumbersome underwood to be seen in the more champaign
ground.”
Hour after hour they journeyed on through these lonely fields, without
meeting an individual. At length one solitary Indian was espied in
the distance. The Indians, who accompanied the Pilgrims, seemed much
alarmed, from fear that he might be one of the Narraganset tribe, with
whom Massasoit was then at war, and that there might be more of the
Narragansets near at hand. The Pilgrims, however, bade them not to
fear, assuring them that, with their guns, they should not hesitate
to meet twenty of the foe. The savage was hailed. He proved to be
a friend, having two women with him. The two parties interchanged
courtesies, ate and drank together, and separated, well pleased with
each other.
Soon after this they met another Indian, also accompanied by two women.
They had been at a rendezvous, by a salt water creek, and had some
baskets full of roasted crabs and other small shell-fish. They, also,
in oriental fashion, ate and drank together, in token of friendship.
The women were made very happy by a present each of a string of beads,
as brilliant in their eyes as the priceless jewels of the crown to
any European queen. “There is but one step between the sublime and
the ridiculous.” The step is equally short between the court-dress of
an European monarch and his jeweled queen, and that of the feathered
Indian warrior and his beaded squaw.
Continuing their journey, they soon reached one of the small towns of
Massasoit. This was probably Mattapoiset, now known as Gardner’s Neck,
in Swansey. They were hospitably received here, and fed with oysters
and other fish.
The latter part of the afternoon they reached Pokanoket, on the
northern shore of Narraganset Bay. The capital of the Indian monarch,
which they had thus entered, was about forty miles from Plymouth. The
spot where the little cluster of wigwams stood, was probably Sowams,
in the present town of Warren. We cannot better describe the interview
which took place, than in the language of Mr. Winslow:
“Massasoit was not at home. There we stayed, he being sent for. When
news was brought of his coming, our guide, Squantum, requested that, at
our meeting, we would discharge our pieces. But one of us going about
to discharge his piece, the women and children, through fear to see him
take up his piece, ran away, and could not be pacified till he laid it
down again; who afterwards were better informed by our interpreter.
“Massasoit being come, we discharged our pieces and saluted him; who,
after their manner, kindly welcomed us, and took us into his house and
set us down by him; where, having delivered our foresaid message and
presents, and having put the coat on his back, and the chain about his
neck, he was not a little proud to behold himself, as were his men
also, to see their king so bravely attired.
“In answer to our message, he told us we were welcome, and he would
gladly continue that peace and friendship which was between him and us.
As for his men, they should no longer pester us as they had done. He
would also send us corn for seed, according to our request.
“This being done, his men gathered near to him, to whom he turned
himself and made a great speech; they sometimes interposing, and, as it
were, confirming and applauding him in that he said.”
In this harangue the king enumerated thirty towns or villages over
which his sovereignty was recognized; and enjoined it upon his people
ever to live in peace with the white men, and to carry to them furs for
sale.
“This being ended he lighted tobacco for us, and fell to discoursing
of England and of the King’s Majesty, marvelling that he would live
without a wife.[13] Also he talked of the Frenchmen, bidding us not to
suffer them to come to Narraganset, for it was King James’s country,
and he was King James’s man. Late it grew, but victuals he offered us
none; for, indeed, he had not any, he being so newly come home. So we
desired to go to rest. He laid us on the bed with himself and his wife,
they at the one end and we at the other, it being only planks laid a
foot from the ground, and a thin mat upon them. Two more of his chief
men, for want of room, pressed by and upon us, so that we were worse
weary of our lodging than of our journey.
“The next day being Thursday, many of their _sachems_, or petty
governors, came to see us, and many of their men also. There they went
to their manner of games for skins and knives. We challenged them to
shoot with us for skins, but they durst not; only they desired one of
us to shoot at a mark, who, shooting with hail-shot, they wondered to
see the mark so full of holes.
“About one o’clock Massasoit brought two fishes that he had shot. They
were like bream, but three times as big, and better meat.[14] These,
being boiled, there were at least forty looked for share in them. The
most ate of them. This meal only we had in two nights and a day. And
had not one of us bought a partridge we had taken our journey fasting.
“Very importunate he was to have us stay with him longer. But we
desired to keep the Sabbath at home, and feared that we should either
be lightheaded for want of sleep, for what with bad lodging, the
savage’s barbarious singing, for they use to sing themselves asleep,
lice and fleas within doors, and mosquitoes without, we could hardly
sleep all of the time of our being there; we much fearing that if we
should stay any longer we should not be able to recover home for want
of strength. So that on Friday morning, before sun-rising, we took our
leave and departed, Massasoit being both grieved and ashamed that he
could no better entertain us.”
Their journey home was a weary one. They commenced it hungry, and
without any supply of food for the way. Squantum and five other
Indians accompanied them, who were accustomed to the hardships of the
wilderness, and knew how to obtain food if there were roots or berries,
game or fish anywhere within reach. When they arrived at Mattapoiset,
the friendly but half-starved Indians there refreshed them with a
small fish, a handful of parched corn, and a few clams. The clams they
gave to their six Indians, reserving for themselves only the little
fish and the handful of meal, which by no means satiated their craving
appetites. The Indians led them five miles out of their way, with the
hope of obtaining food, but they found the place abandoned and no food
there.
Hungry and weary they toiled along, and that night reached the wear
at Titicut, on Taunton River. Here again they found famine. But one
of the hospitable savages, who had speared a shad, and shot a small
squirrel, gave half to the nearly famished travellers. In this starving
condition they sent one of the Indians forward to Plymouth, imploring
their brethren immediately to send an Indian runner to meet them at
Namasket with food. Fortunately that evening a large number of fishes
were caught in the wear, so that they feasted abundantly upon roasted
fish, and their fatigue enabled them to sleep soundly in the open air.
In the morning, after another ample breakfast of roasted fish, which
their good appetites rendered palatable, they set out again upon their
journey.
About two o’clock in the morning it had commenced raining with great
violence, accompanied with thunder and lightning. The fire which the
Pilgrims had built to keep their feet warm was extinguished, and,
drenched with the rain and shivering with cold, they must have suffered
severely had not their great fatigue rendered them almost insensible
to the exposure. The storm of wind and rain raged unabated through the
day. But they toiled on, wet and weary, until, a little after noon,
they reached Namasket. Here they found the provisions which their
companions had sent them from Plymouth. Liberally they rewarded all
who had shown them any kindness by the way. At night they reached
home, wet, weary and footsore. They had been absent five days, leaving
Plymouth Tuesday morning, and returning home Saturday evening, having
spent Thursday with the renowned Indian monarch Massasoit.
[Illustration: _STANDISH HOUSE, STILL STANDING._]