_Exploring Tours._
The Lost Boy.--The Expedition to Nauset.--Interesting Adventures.--
The Mother of the Kidnapped Indians.--Tyanough.--Payment for
the Corn.--Aspinet, the Chief.--The Boy Recovered.--Alarming
Intelligence.--Hostility of Corbitant.--The Friendship of
Hobbomak.--Heroic Achievement of Miles Standish.--The Midnight
Attack.--Picturesque Spectacle.--Results of the Adventure.
Visit to the Massachusetts.--The Squaw Sachem.--An Indian
Fort.--Charming Country.--Glowing Reports.
We have before spoken of the notorious John Billington and his
ungovernable family. His boy John, the same one who came so near
causing the Mayflower to be blown up with gunpowder, got lost in the
woods. The search to find him was unavailing. At last news came that he
had, after wandering five days in the woods, living upon berries, been
picked up by the Nauset Indians, the same who had attacked the Pilgrims
at the First Encounter. Following an Indian trail he had reached a
small Indian village, called Manomet, in the present town of Sandwich,
about twenty miles south of Plymouth. The Indians treated him kindly,
and took him with them still further down the Cape to Nauset, in the
present town of Barnstable.
Massasoit sent word to Governor Carver where he was, and an expedition
of ten men was immediately fitted out, in the shallop, to bring him
back. It was a beautiful day, the latter part of July, when the boat
sailed from Plymouth harbor on this short trip. They had not, however,
been many hours at sea ere a tempest arose with vivid lightning and
heavy peals of thunder. They ran, for shelter, into a place called
Cummaquit, which was doubtless Barnstable harbor. Squantum and another
Indian, by the name of Tokamahamon, accompanied them, as interpreters
and aids.
It was night before they reached the harbor and cast anchor. The
receding tide left them dry upon the flats. In the morning they saw
several savages, on the shore, seeking for shell-fish. The two Indian
interpreters were sent to communicate with them. They returned stating
that the boy was well, but that he was several miles further down the
Cape, at Nauset. The Indians also invited the white men to come on
shore and eat with them. As soon as the returning tide floated the
boat they drew near to the shore, and, cautiously taking four unarmed
Indians on board as hostages, six of the voyagers landed. Here they had
a very pleasant interview with the sachem, or chief of the tribe, a
young man, by the name of Tyanough, but twenty-six years of age. He was
very hospitable, and seemed to have but little of the savage in his
nature. They describe him as “very personable, gentle, courteous and
fair conditioned.”
They met here with an aged Indian woman whom they judged to be not less
than one hundred years old. She had never before seen a white man. As
soon as she saw the English she burst into a convulsive fit of weeping.
It appeared that she had three sons who had been lured on board the
ship of the infamous Captain Hunt and kidnapped. They were carried off
to Spain, and she had never heard any tidings from them. The Pilgrims
spoke all the words of comfort to the poor bereaved mother which they
could, assuring her that Captain Hunt was a very wicked man, whom God
would punish; that all the English condemned him for his crime, and
that they would not be guilty of the like wickedness for all the skins
the country could afford. They made her some presents which quite
cheered her.
After dinner they re-embarked, on such friendly terms with the natives
that the chief and two of his men went on board with them to accompany
them on the way. It was in the evening twilight when they reached
Nauset, and the tide was out. The savages here seemed to be very
numerous, and they crowded the shore. It is supposed that the point
which they had reached here was in the present town of Eastham. The
shallop touched the flats at quite a distance from the land. Tyanough,
the chief of the Cummaquit Indians, and his two men, waded over the
wet and sandy flats to the beach. Squantum accompanied them, to inform
Aspinet, the chief of the Nauset Indians, of their object in coming.
The savages manifested great eagerness of cordiality, flocked out to
the boat, and expressed more than willingness to drag it over the flats
to the shore. But the Pilgrims would not allow this. They had not full
confidence in their sincerity. This was the same tribe which had so
fiercely assailed them in the First Encounter.
They, therefore, warned the Indians off, and with their weapons stood
guard, allowing but two to enter the boat. One of these was from
Manamoick, now Chatham, and was one of the owners of the corn which
the Pilgrims had taken. The Pilgrims received him with great kindness,
and assured him that if he would come to Plymouth they would repay him
abundantly, either in corn or other articles; or, if preferred, they
would send the payment to the Indians. He promised to come to Plymouth.
Just after sunset Aspinet appeared upon the shore, leading the boy,
and accompanied by a train of nearly one hundred men. Fifty of these,
unarmed, came wading through the water to the side of the shallop,
bringing the boy with them. The other fifty remained at a little
distance, armed with bows and arrows, ready to meet any hostile
demonstration. In token of peace, and of his desire to cherish
friendly relations with the English, Aspinet had decorated the boy
with Indian ornaments. The Pilgrims here received also the rather
alarming intelligence that Massasoit had been defeated in a battle
with the Narragansets. Seven men only had been left for the protection
of the colony. It was feared that the hostile Narragansets might make
an attack upon them. It therefore appears that as soon as the tide
came in, that very night, they spread their sails for home. They made
Aspinet the present of a knife, and also gave a knife to the Indian who
first found the boy and protected him.
The route which they had followed along the shore was so circuitous
that they estimated that they had reached a point eighty miles from
Plymouth. The wind was contrary and their progress was slow. When
they reached Cummaquit they put in ashore for water. Here they found
Tyanough, who, having returned by land, had reached the place before
them. The obliging chief took their water cask upon his own shoulders
and led them a long distance through the dark to a spring of not very
sweet water. The shallop was anchored near the shore. The Indian women,
in manifestation of their good will, sang and danced upon the beach,
clasping hands.
Again they set sail, still encountering contrary winds, but at length
they reached their home in safety. Soon after their return, they
learned that the defeat of Massasoit was more disastrous than had at
first been reported. It seems that a portion of the Indians were much
opposed to any friendly relations with the white men, and wished for
the extermination of the colony. An Indian by the name of Hobbomak, who
was chief of one of the minor tribes, had now strongly allied himself
to the English. Consequently he and Squantum were peculiarly obnoxious
to those of the savages who remained unfriendly.
One of Massasoit’s petty chieftains, named Corbitant, led the hostile
party. He was an audacious, insolent fellow, residing in the present
town of Middleborough, at a point on the Namasket River just above
the bridge, which passes from the Green to the Four Corners, on
the Plymouth road. This man endeavored to excite a revolt against
Massasoit, assailing the Pilgrims with the most opprobrious language,
and storming at the peace which had been made with them by Massasoit
and the tribes on the Cape. It seemed also that he was entering into
an alliance with the Narraganset Indians against Massasoit and the
Pilgrims.
Hobbomak was a war captain among the Wampanoags, and was greatly
beloved by Massasoit. With Squantum he set out on a journey to visit
Massasoit, with inquiries and words of cheer from the Pilgrims.
They were intercepted on their way by Corbitant, and both captured.
Hobbomak, being a very powerful man, broke away and escaped. The next
day, breathless and terrified, he reached Plymouth, reporting what had
happened. On their journey they had entered a wigwam at Namasket, when
suddenly the hut was surrounded by a band of armed savages. Corbitant
himself, brandishing a knife, approached Squantum to kill him, saying,
“When Squantum is dead the English will have lost their tongue.” Just
then Hobbomak escaped, and, outrunning his pursuers, reached Plymouth,
not knowing the fate of his companion.
These were sad tidings, indicating that a very perilous storm was
gathering. Governor Bradford immediately assembled all the men of
the colony to decide what was to be done. After earnest prayer and
deliberation, they were united in the opinion that, should they suffer
their friends and allies to be thus assailed with impunity, none of the
Indians, however kindly disposed, would dare to enter into friendly
relations with them. They therefore resolved to send ten men, one-half
of their whole number, under Captain Standish, with Hobbomak as their
guide, to seize Corbitant and avenge the outrage. Never did a heroic
little band set out upon a more chivalric adventure.
The morning of the 14th of August was dark and stormy. Regardless of
wind and rain Captain Standish led his valiant companions in single
file through the narrow and dripping paths of the forest. It was late
in the afternoon when they reached a secluded spot within four miles of
Namasket. Here they concealed themselves that they might suddenly fall
upon their foe in the darkness of night. Cautiously Captain Standish,
who was alike prudent and intrepid, led his band. Every man received
minute instructions as to the part he was to perform. The night was
so dark, with clouds and driving rain, that they could hardly see a
hand’s breadth before them. They lost their way, and after groping for
some time in the tangled thickets, happily again found their trail. It
was after midnight when, wet and weary, they arrived within sight of
the glimmering fires of Namasket. After silently refreshing themselves
from their knapsacks they crept along to the large wigwam, where they
supposed that Corbitant, surrounded by several of his warriors, was
sleeping. The darkness of the night and the wailings of the storm
caused even the wary Indians to be deaf to their approach.
“At a signal, two muskets were fired to terrify the savages, and
Captain Standish, with three or four men, rushed into the hut. The
ground floor, dimly lighted by some dying embers, was covered with
sleeping Indians, men, women, and children. A scene of indescribable
consternation and confusion ensued. Through Hobbomak, Captain Standish
ordered every Indian to remain in the wigwam, assuring them that he had
come for Corbitant, the murderer of Squantum, and that, if he were not
there, no one else should be injured.
“But the savages, terrified by the midnight surprise, and by the report
of the muskets, were bereft of reason. Many of them endeavored to
escape, and were severely wounded by the Pilgrims in their attempts
to stop them. The Indian boys, seeing that the Indian women were not
molested, ran around, frantically exclaiming, ‘I am a girl! I am a
girl!’
“At last order was restored, and it was found that Corbitant was not
there, but that he had gone off, with all his train, and that Squantum
was not killed. A bright fire was now kindled, that the hut might
be carefully searched. Its blaze illuminated one of the wildest of
imaginable scenes. The wigwam, spacious and rudely constructed of
boughs, mats and bark; the affrighted savages, men, women and children,
in their picturesque dress and undress, a few with ghastly wounds,
faint and bleeding; the bold colonists, in their European dress and
armor; the fire blazing in the centre of the hut, all combined to
present a scene such as few eyes have ever witnessed.”[15]
By this time all the inmates of the adjoining wigwams were aroused.
Hobbomak, in the darkness, climbed to the top of the wigwam and shouted
aloud for Squantum. In his response to his well-known voice, Squantum
soon appeared. Captain Standish deprived all the Indian warriors of
their bows and arrows, and having established a watch, sought such
repose as they could find until morning.
Many of these Indians were friendly to the English, and they, with
the earliest light of the morning, gathered around Captain Standish.
The hostile Indians, who belonged to the faction of Corbitant, fled
during the night. It seemed, however, that a majority were disposed to
be friendly, for a large group gathered around Captain Standish, with
pledges of their good will. He addressed them in words of conciliation,
and yet of firmness, assuring them that, though Corbitant had for the
present escaped, if he continued his hostility he could find no retreat
from the avenging hand of the white man. He also assured them that if
the Narragansets continued their assaults upon Massasoit or upon any
of his subjects, the white men would punish them by the utter overthrow
of their tribe. He expressed much regret that any of the Indians had
been wounded, but told them that it was their own fault, as he had
assured them that they should not be harmed if they would remain in the
hut. He also offered to take home with him any who were wounded, that
they might be carefully nursed. Two of the wounded availed themselves
of this offer. The surgeon of the Pilgrim company, Mr. Samuel Fuller,
tenderly cared for them.
Captain Standish led his triumphant little band back, accompanied by
Squantum, and many other friendly Indians. The heroic achievement
taught the friendly Indians that they could rely upon the protection
of the white men, and was a loud warning to those who were disposed
to be hostile. The enterprise occupied but two days. As the result of
this adventure, many Sachems sent in the expression of their desire to
enter into a friendly alliance with the Pilgrims. Corbitant himself
was frightened by such an exhibition of energy, and by his own narrow
escape. He sought reconciliation through the intercession of Massasoit,
and subsequently signed a treaty of submission and friendship. Even
Canonicus, the hostile and warlike chief of the Narragansets, sent an
embassy to Plymouth, not improbably as spies, but with the professed
object of treating for peace. The friendship of Massasoit, and his
influence over the chiefs of the smaller tribes, contributed much to
this happy result.
The Blue Hills of Milton were then called Mount Massachusetts. Many
rumors had reached the colonists that the tribes residing in that
vicinity, about forty miles north from Plymouth, were very unfriendly,
had uttered many threats, and were preparing for hostile measures. The
Pilgrims decided to send an expedition to that region, to establish, if
possible, friendly relations with the natives, and they also wished to
examine the country.
Captain Miles Standish was, of course, the one to be entrusted with the
command of the important enterprise. He took a party in the shallop, of
nine of the colonists, and three Indians, as interpreters, one of whom
was Squantum. They set sail at midnight, in consequence of the favoring
tide. It was Tuesday morning, the 18th of September, O. S. A gentle
southerly breeze pressed their sails, and they glided over a smooth sea
until they reached a point which they estimated to be about sixty miles
from the port which they had left. As they had been informed that the
tribes were numerous and warlike, as well as unfriendly, and it was a
mild autumnal night, Captain Standish did not deem it prudent to land,
but they all remained until morning in the boat.
They had entered a bay, which was doubtless Boston harbor, and anchored
but a short distance from a cliff, which some have supposed to have
been Copp’s Hill, at the north end of Boston. This cliff rose about
fifty feet from the water, and presented a precipitous front on the
seaward shore.
The next morning they put in for the shore and landed.[16] Here they
found quite a quantity of lobsters which the savages had collected, but
for some unknown reason had left. Captain Standish, with characteristic
prudence, left three men to guard the shallop, and stationed two as
sentinels, in a commanding position on the shore, to give warning
of any appearance of danger. Then, with characteristic enterprise
and courage, taking four men with him, and an Indian as guide and
interpreter, he entered one of the well-trodden trails of the forest
and pressed forward in search of the habitations of the Indians. It
was a bold deed; for, though they had guns, a hundred Indian warriors,
shooting their barbed arrows from behind trees, would soon lay them all
weltering in blood.
They had not gone far before they met an Indian woman who, it seems,
owned some of the lobsters, and was going to the shore to get them.
But the colonists had feasted upon the savory food. They paid the
woman, however, abundantly, to her entire satisfaction. She informed
them that the small tribe to which she belonged, and whose chieftain’s
name was Obbatinewat, resided in a village a little farther along the
coast. They therefore sent Squantum forward to the Indian village to
inform Obbatinewat that the Pilgrims were coming to make him a friendly
visit. Captain Standish returned to the shallop to continue their
voyage to the settlement.
It required but a short sail. The Indian chief and his people, being
prepared for their coming, received them kindly. It is a remarkable
fact that the chief of the Massachusett tribe, probably the most
powerful tribe then in these borders, was a woman--a squaw. Upon
the death of her husband, Nanepashemet, she had been recognized as
his successor. She was known as the Squaw Sachem, and was at war
with Obbatinewat. Captain Standish offered his services to promote
reconciliation. This was certainly magnanimous, for according to the
principles of selfish worldly policy, it would have seemed expedient
to keep the tribes warring against each other, thus to prevent their
combining against the Pilgrims, and thus enabling the Pilgrims to
retain what is called the balance of power. But Miles Standish, a
straightforward, honest man, scorned all such arts of expediency.
Obbatinewat resided near the bottom of the inner Massachusetts Bay. He
was ever trembling in view of the incursions of a powerful tribe of
Indians, who resided on the Kennebec, the Penobscot, and other rivers
of Maine. They came in great numbers in time of harvest, robbing them
of their corn and committing all manner of savage outrages.
Very gladly Obbatinewat, who seems to have been an amiable,
peace-loving man, availed himself of the friendly offer of Captain
Standish, and, with some of his people, accompanied him in the
shallop across the harbor, it is supposed from Quincy to what is now
Charlestown, to visit the squaw sachem. Mr. Winslow describes the visit
in the following words:
“Again we crossed the bay, which is very large, and hath at least fifty
islands in it; but the certain number is not known to the inhabitants.
Night it was before we came to that side of the bay where this people
were. On shore the savages went, but found nobody. That night also we
rode at anchor aboard the shallop.
“On the morrow we went ashore, all but two men, and marched, in arms,
up in the country. Having gone three miles we came to a place where
corn had been newly gathered, a house pulled down, and the people
gone. A mile from hence Nanepashemet, their king, in his lifetime, had
lived. His house was not like others: but a scaffold was largely built
with poles and planks, some six feet from the ground, and the house
upon that, being situated on the top of a hill.
“Not far from here, in a bottom, we came to a fort, built by their
deceased king; the manner thus: There were poles, some thirty or forty
feet long, stuck in the ground as thick as they could be set one by
another. With these they enclosed a ring, some thirty or forty feet
long. A trench, breast-high, was digged on each side. One way there was
to go into it with a bridge. In the midst of this palisade stood the
frame of a house, wherein, being dead, he lay buried.
“About a mile from here we came to such another, but seated on the top
of a hill. Here Nanepashemet was killed; none dwelling in it since the
time of his death. At this place we staid, and sent for two savages to
look for the inhabitants, and to inform them of our ends in coming,
that they might not be fearful of us. Within a mile of this place
they found the women of the place together, with their corn on heaps,
whither we supposed them to have fled for fear of us; and the more,
because in divers places they had newly pulled down their houses, and
for haste, in one place, had left some of their corn, covered with a
mat, and nobody with it.
“With much fear they entertained us, at first; but seeing our gentle
carriage towards them, they took heart, and entertained us in the best
manner they could, boiling cod and such other things as they had for
us. At length, with much sending for, came one of their men, shaking
and trembling for fear. But when he saw we intended them no hurt, but
came to truck, he promised us his skins also. Of him we inquired for
their queen. It seemed that she was far from thence. At least we could
not see her.
“Here Squantum would have had us rifle the savage women, and take their
skins and all such things as might be serviceable for us; for, said he,
they are a bad people, and have often threatened you. But our answer
was, ‘Were they never so bad, we would not wrong them, or give them any
just occasion against us. For their words we little weighed them; but
if they once attempted any thing against us, then we would deal far
worse than he desired.”
Having passed the day thus pleasantly, they returned to the shallop.
Nearly all the women accompanied them. The Indians had quite a quantity
of beaver skins, from which very comfortable garments were made. The
Pilgrims were eager to purchase these skins, and the Indian women were
so eager to obtain, in exchange for them, such articles as the English
had to dispose of, that we are told “they sold their coats from their
backs, and tied boughs about them, but with great shamefacedness, for
indeed they are more modest than some of our English women are.”
The savages reported that there were two rivers emptying into the bay,
the Mystic and the Charles. The Pilgrims, however, saw but one, and
they had not time to explore even that. They saw evidences that most
of the islands in the harbor had been inhabited, having been cleared,
and prepared for corn from end to end. But they were now desolate, the
plague having swept the whole of their populations into the grave. The
food of the exploring party becoming scarce, and there being a bright
moon and a fair wind, they set sail in the evening, and by noon of
the next day, Saturday, September 22d, they reached home, having been
absent four days. Mr. Winslow was one of the party, and it is supposed
that he wrote the account from which we have quoted.
The adventurers brought back so glowing a report of the harbor, with
its beautiful and fertile islands, the rivers and the rich soil, that
the colonists quite regretted that they had not found that spot for
their settlement. “The country of the Massachusetts,” said they, “is
the paradise of all those parts, for here are many isles, all planted
with corn, groves, mulberries and savage gardens.”
The summer had passed away with the Pilgrims very pleasantly and
prosperously. Friendly relations had been established with the Indians,
and a lucrative traffic opened in valuable furs. There had been no
want of provisions. Fishing had been successful, furnishing them with
an abundant supply of cod and bass. Water fowl, such as ducks and wild
geese, abounded, and the forests were filled with deer and turkeys. In
the autumn they gathered in a fine harvest of corn, and though they had
no mills to grind it, by hand-pounding they converted it into meal,
with which they made very palatable cakes. Thus amply supplied with
food, they made their houses more tight and comfortable, and gathered
their fuel for the winter fires. They wrote home such glowing letters
of their prosperity, that very many others were inspired with the
desire to join them. One of these letters, written by Edward Winslow,
will be given in the next chapter.