_The Trading-Posts Menaced._
Menace of the Narragansets.--Roger Williams.--Difficulty on
the Kennebec.--Bradford’s Narrative.--Captain Standish as
Mediator.--The French on the Penobscot.--Endeavors to Regain
the Lost Port.--Settlements on the Connecticut River.--
Mortality among the Indians.--Hostility of the Pequots.--
Efforts to Avert War.--The Pequot Forts.--Death of Elder
Brewster.--His Character.
In the spring of the year 1632 an Indian runner came, in breathless
haste, into the village of Plymouth, with the intelligence that the
Narragansets, under Canonicus, were marching against Mount Hope, and
that Massassoit implored the aid of the Pilgrims. The chief of the
Wampanoags had fled, with a party of his warriors, to Sowams, in the
present town of Warren, R. I., where the Pilgrims had a trading-post.
It used to be said, in the French army, during the wars of Napoleon
I., that the presence of the Emperor, on the field of an approaching
battle, was equivalent to a re-enforcement of one hundred thousand men.
It seems to have been the impression, with both colonists and Indians,
that Captain Standish, in himself alone, was a resistless force. He was
immediately despatched to Sowams, _with three men_, to repel an army
of nobody knew how many hundreds of savage warriors.
Upon his arrival at Sowams, the captain soon learned that the
Wampanoags were indeed in serious peril. The Narragansets were
advancing in much strength. Captain Standish sent promptly a messenger
to Plymouth to forward a re-enforcement to him immediately, with
powder and muskets. As there was but little ammunition at that time in
Plymouth, application was made to Governor Winthrop, of Massachusetts,
for a supply. There were but few horses then in either of the colonies,
and the messenger returned on foot through the woods with twenty-seven
pounds of powder upon his back, which Governor Winthrop had contributed
from his own stores. Fortunately the Pequots, taking advantage of
the absence of the Narraganset warriors, made an inroad upon their
territory, which caused Canonicus to abandon his march upon Sowams and
to make a precipitate retreat to defend his own realms.
Mr. Roger Williams, whose name is one of the most illustrious in the
early annals of New England, had a little before this time come over to
Massachusetts. Being displeased with some things there, he left that
colony and came to Plymouth.
“Here,” writes Governor Bradford, “he was friendly entertained,
according to their poor ability, and exercised his gifts among them,
and after some time was admitted a member of the church. And his
teaching was well approved, for the benefit whereof I still bless God,
and am thankful to him, even for his sharpest admonitions and reproofs.
He this year began to fall into some strange opinions, and from opinion
to practice; which caused some controversy between the church and him,
and, in the end, some discontent on his part, by occasion whereof he
left them somewhat abruptly.”
In the year 1634 a serious difficulty occurred upon the Kennebec River.
The Plymouth colony claimed this river, and fifteen miles on each side
of it, by special patent. They thus were enabled to monopolize the very
important trade with the Indians. A man by the name of Hocking, from
the settlement at Piscataqua, with a boat load of goods, entered the
river, and ascending above the trading coast of the Plymouth colony,
commenced purchasing furs of the Indians. Mr. John Howland was in
command of the post at that time. He forbade the trade; but Hocking,
with insulting language, bade him defiance. Howland took a boat and
some armed men, and ascended the river to the spot where the heavily
laden boat of Hocking was riding at anchor, and earnestly expostulated
with him against his illegal procedings. The result we will give in
the words of Governor Bradford:
“But all in vain. He could get nothing of him but ill words. So he
considered that now was the season for trade to come down, and that
if he should suffer him to take it from them, all their former charge
would be lost, and they had better throw all up. So consulting with his
men, who were willing thereto, he resolved to put him from his anchors,
and let him drift down the river with the stream; but commanded the men
that none should shoot a shot upon any occasion, except he commanded
them.
“He spoke to him again, but all in vain. Then he sent a couple in a
canoe to cut his cable, the which one of them performs. But Hocking
takes up a piece, which he had laid ready, and, as the bark sheared by
the canoe, he shot him, close under her side, in the head, so that he
fell down dead instantly.[44] One of his fellows, who loved him well,
could not hold, but with a musket shot Hocking, who fell down dead, and
never spake word. This was the truth of the thing.”
Mr. John Alden, probably the husband of Priscilla, was one of the men
in the bark with the Pilgrims. They returned to the trading post, much
afflicted by the untoward adventure. Not long after this Mr. Alden,
visiting Boston, was arrested for the deed, upon the complaint of a
kinsman of Hocking, and held to bail. The Massachusetts government
had no right of jurisdiction in the affair. But Governor Winthrop was
quite embarrassed to know what was best to be done in a case thus far
without any precedent. He wrote very courteously to Governor Winslow,
then Chief Magistrate of Plymouth, informing him of what had been done,
and enquiring if the Plymouth people would take action in a case which
seemed rather to belong to their jurisdiction.
“This we did,” writes Governor Winthrop, “that notice might be taken
that we did disavow the said action, which was much condemned of all
men, and which, it was feared, would give occasion to the king to send
a general governor over. And besides, it had brought us all, and the
gospel, under a common reproach, of cutting one another’s throats for
beaver.”
Governor Bradford was also greatly troubled, being apprehensive
respecting the influence it might exert upon the home government. He
speaks of the occurrence as “one of the saddest things that befel them
since they came.” There was embarrassment all around. It was hardly
consistent with the dignity of Plymouth to surrender the case to the
Massachusetts court. Mr. Alden, who had been arrested, was no actor in
the business. He simply happened to be in the boat, having gone to the
Kennebec with supplies.
Under these difficult circumstances Captain Standish was sent to
Massachusetts to consult with the authorities there upon the best
course to be pursued; to make explanations, and to endeavor to obtain
the release of John Alden. Great wisdom was requisite in discharging
the duties of this mission, combining conciliation with firmness. The
Captain was equal to the occasion. He represented that the Plymouth
people exceedingly regretted what had happened, but they felt that they
were not the aggressors, but had acted in self defense. It was admitted
that one of their servants had shot Hocking, but that he had first shot
Talbot, and would have killed others had he not himself been killed.
It was urged that the Massachusetts colony had no jurisdiction in the
case, and that it had done unjustly in imprisoning, and arraigning
before its court, one of the Plymouth men. The spirit of conciliation
manifested by both parties was admirable, as is manifest in the
following admission made to the Massachusetts court, as recorded by
Governor Bradford:
“But yet, being assured of their Christian love, and persuaded that
what was done was out of godly zeal, that religion might not suffer, or
sin be in any way covered, especially the guilt of blood, of which all
should be very conscientious, they did endeavor to appease and satisfy
them the best they could; first by informing them of the truth in all
circumstances about the matter; and secondly, in being willing to refer
the case to any indifferent and equal hearing and judgment of the
thing here, and to answer it elsewhere when they should be duly called
thereto. And further, they craved Mr. Winthrop’s, and others of the
revered magistrates there, their advice and direction therein. This did
mollify their minds, and bring things to a good and comfortable issue
in the end.”[45]
In accordance with Governor Winthrop’s advice, a general conference of
prominent men, both ministers and laymen, was held in Boston. After
seeking divine guidance in prayer, the matter was very thoroughly
discussed. Then the opinion of each one was taken, both magistrates
and ministers. With entire unanimity they came to the conclusion that,
“Though they all could have wished that these things had never been,
yet they could not but lay the blame and guilt on Hocking’s own head.
And thus,” writes Governor Bradford, “was this matter ended, and love
and concord renewed.”
In the struggle between the Dutch and the English, for the possession
of the Connecticut River and its lucrative trade, a party of Dutch
ascended the river far above their trading-house, at the present site
of Hartford. Here there was a powerful tribe of Indians. Being, as
usual with the Indians, at war with their neighbors, about one thousand
of them had built a fort, which they had strongly palisadoed. Some
Dutch traders went up to pass the winter with them, and to purchase
their furs. A terrible plague came upon the Indians, and nine hundred
and fifty died in the course of a few weeks. The living could not bury
the dead. Their bodies were left to decay in the open air. The Dutch,
with difficulty, amidst the snows of winter, made their escape from
this horrible pestilence, and succeeded, when almost dead with hunger
and cold, in reaching their friends in Hartford.
The account of the ravages of the small-pox among the Indians, around
the English settlements, is too revolting to be transferred to these
pages. The suffering was awful. Though the English ministered to them
with the greatest humanity, yet not one of them was attacked by the
disease. The judgment of God seemed to have fallen upon the Indians,
and they were everywhere perishing.
The Plymouth colony had a very flourishing trading-house on the
Penobscot River. In the year 1635, a French frigate appeared in the
harbor, and took possession of the post, in the name of the king of
France. The captain, Monsieur d’ Aulney, made an inventory of their
goods, took a bill of sale at his own price, promised to pay when
convenient, put the men on board their shallop, supplied them amply
with provisions, and, with many bows and compliments, sent them home to
Plymouth. Once before this post had been thus captured. The Plymouth
people were greatly disturbed by the loss. The French commander
threatened to come again the next year, with eight ships, and to seize
all the plantations in that section of the country which was claimed by
the king of France.
Plymouth applied to Massachusetts to co-operate in the endeavor to
recapture the post, and to drive out the French. The Governor of
Plymouth and Captain Standish were sent to meet the Massachusetts
commissioners. They urged that both colonies were equally interested
in the dislodgement of the French, and that the expense should be
equally borne. But the Massachusetts commissioners insisted that as the
post belonged to Plymouth alone, that colony ought to defray all the
expenses of the expedition. Thus the negotiation terminated.
Plymouth, thus left to its own resources, hired a vessel, the Great
Hope, of about three hundred tons, well fitted with ordnance. It was
agreed with its commander that he should recapture the post, and
surrender it, with all the trading commodities which were there, to
the agents, who were to accompany him from Plymouth. As his recompense,
he was to receive seven hundred pounds of beaver skins, to be delivered
as soon as he should have accomplished his task. If he failed, he was
to receive nothing.
Thomas Prince was then Governor of Plymouth. He sent Captain Miles
Standish, in their own bark, with about twenty men, to aid, should
it be needful, in the recovery of the post, and to take the command
there, should the post be regained. Captain Standish’s bark led the
way, and piloted the Great Hope into the harbor, on the Penobscot.
He had in his vessel the seven hundred pounds of beaver, with which
to pay for the expedition. But Golding proved a totally incompetent
man, displaying folly almost amounting to insanity. He would take no
advice from Captain Standish. He would not even allow Captain Standish
to summon the post to surrender. Had this been done, the French would
at once have yielded, for they were entirely unprepared to resist the
force sent against them. Neither would he bring his ship near enough
to the post to do any execution, as without any summons and at a great
distance, he opened a random and harmless fire.
Captain Standish earnestly remonstrated, assuring Golding that he could
lay his ship within pistol shot of the house. As the stupid creature
burned his powder and threw away his shot, the French, behind an
earth-work out of all harm’s reach, made themselves merry over the
futile bombardment. At length Golding became convinced of his folly,
and placed his vessel upon the spot which Captain Standish had pointed
out. Then he ascertained, to the excessive chagrin of Captain Standish
and his party, that he had expended all his ammunition. The wretch
then designed to seize upon the bark and the beaver skins. But Captain
Standish, learning of this, spread his sails and returned in safety to
Plymouth.
The Governor and his assistants in Massachusetts Bay, hearing of this
utter failure of the expedition, became alarmed in reference to their
own safety. They wrote very earnestly to Plymouth, saying:
“We desire that you would, with all convenient speed, send some man
of trust, furnished with instructions from yourselves, to make such
agreement with us about this business, as may be useful for you and
equal for us.”
Captain Standish, with Mr. Prince, was immediately sent to
Massachusetts with full powers to act in accordance with instructions
given them. The negotiations, however, failed; as the Massachusetts
colonists were still not prepared to pay their share of the expense.
The French remained undisturbed on the Penobscot. They carried on
a vigorous trade with the Indians, supplying them abundantly with
muskets and ammunition.
The terrible mortality, which had swept away so many thousand Indians
from the Connecticut, turned the attention of the Massachusetts
colonists again to that beautiful and fertile region. The Dutch claimed
the country. The Plymouth colony claimed it. And now the Massachusetts
colonists were putting in their claim. Jonathan Brewster, the oldest
son of Elder Brewster, was at the head of the little Plymouth
settlement at Windsor. The following extracts from one of his letters
addressed to the authorities at Plymouth, give a very clear idea of
the state of the question at that time. The letter is dated Matianuck
(Windsor), July 6, 1835.
“The Massachusetts men are coming almost daily, some by water and some
by land, who are not yet determined where to settle, though some have
a great mind to the place we are upon, and which was last bought. Many
of them look for that which this river will not afford, except it be at
this place, to be a great town and have commodious dwellings for many
together. I shall do what I can to withstand them. I hope that they
will hear reason; as that we were here first, and entered with much
difficulty and danger, both in regard of the Dutch and Indians, and
bought the land and have since held here a chargeable possession, and
kept the Dutch from further encroaching, who would else, long ere this,
have possessed all, and kept out all others.
“It was your will that we should use their persons and messengers
kindly; and so we have done, and do daily to your great charge. For the
first company had well nigh starved had it not been for this house; I
being forced to supply twelve men for nine days together. And those who
came last I helped the best we could, helping them both with canoes
and guides. They got me to go with them to the Dutch, to see if I
could procure some of them to have quiet settling near them; but they
did peremptorily withstand them. Also I gave their goods house-room,
according to their earnest request. What trouble and charge I shall be
further at I know not; for they are coming daily, and I expect those
back again from below, whither they are gone to view the country. All
which trouble and charge we undergo for their occasion, may give us
just cause, in the judgment of all wise and understanding men, to hold
and keep that we are settled upon.”[46]
The question was finally settled by treaty, and the Massachusetts
colonists soon planted settlements at Wethersfield, Hartford, and some
other places on the river. There were three dominant nations, if we
may so call them, at this time, in southern New England. The chiefs
of these nations exercised a sort of feudal domination over many petty
tribes. The Wampanoags, under Massasoit, held the present region of
Massachusetts generally. The Narragansets, under Canonicus, occupied
Rhode Island. The Pequots, under Sassacus, extended their dominion
over nearly the whole of Connecticut. These tribes, powerful and
jealous, were almost invariably engaged in hostilities. Roger Williams
estimated the number of Pequots at thirty thousand souls. They could
bring four thousand warriors into the field. The seat of their chief
was at Groton, near New London. Twenty-six smaller tribes were held in
subjection by him. The Pequots were deemed the most fierce and cruel
race of all the tribes who dwelt in New England.
The Narragansets were a nobler race of men. They somewhat surpassed
the Pequots in numbers, and manifested traits of character far more
generous and magnanimous. They could bring five thousand warriors into
the field. The seat of Canonicus, their chief, was not far from the
present town of Newport.
The Wampanoags had suffered terribly from the pestilence which ravaged
New England just before the arrival of the Pilgrims. The number of
their warriors had been reduced from over three thousand to about
five hundred. Early in the year 1637 the Pequots began to manifest
decided hostility against the English. There was a small settlement at
Saybrook, near the mouth of the Connecticut river. As the colonists
were at work in the fields, unsuspicious of danger, a band of Indians
fell upon them and killed several men and women. The Indians retired
with loud boastings and threats. Soon after they came in larger numbers
and attacked a fort. Though they were repelled, their attack was so
bold and spirited as to astonish the English and cause them great alarm.
The Pequots endeavored to make peace with the Narragansets, that
they might enter into an alliance with them against the English. Not
a little ability was displayed in the plan of operations which they
suggested. “We have no occasion to fear,” they said, “the strength of
the English. We need not come to open battle with them. We can set fire
to their houses, shoot their cattle, lie in ambush for them whenever
they go abroad. Thus we can utterly destroy them without any danger
to ourselves. The English will be either starved to death, or will be
compelled to leave the country.”
For a time the Narragansets listened to these representations, being
quite inclined to accept them. The anxiety of the English was very
great. They desired only peace, with the prosperity it would bring. War
and its ruin they greatly deplored.
The Pilgrims did everything which could be done to avoid the Pequot
war; but it was forced upon them. Sassacus was a very shrewd man, and
laid very broad plans for his military operations. He could summon
thousands of warriors who would fall furiously upon all the scattered
settlements, lay them in ashes, and massacre the inhabitants.
In the year 1634, just after a very flourishing trading post had been
established on the Connecticut river at Windsor, two English traders,
Captains Norton and Stone, ascended the river in a boat, laden with
valuables for the Indian trade, which they intended to exchange for
furs. These traders had eight white boatmen in their employ. The
Indians were peaceful, and they had no apprehensions of danger. One
night, as the boat was moored by the side of the stream, a band of
Indians, with hideous yells, rushed from an ambush upon them, put every
man to death and, having plundered the boat of all its contents, sunk
it in the stream.
These traders were from Massachusetts. This powerful colony demanded
of Sassacus that the murderers should be surrendered to them, and that
payment should be made for the plundered goods. The bloody deed had
been performed at midnight in the glooms of the forest. There was no
survivor to tell the story. Sassacus fabricated one, very ingeniously,
to palm off upon the English. No one could deny the villany of Captain
Hunt, who, some years before, had kidnapped several Indians and sold
them into slavery. Sassacus declared that Captains Norton and Stone,
without any provocation, had seized two Indians, bound them hand and
foot in their boat, and were about to carry them off, no one knew where.
The friends of these captives crept cautiously along the shore watching
for an opportunity to rescue them. The white men were all thoroughly
armed with swords and muskets, rendering any attempt to rescue the
captives extremely perilous. The right of self-defense rendered it
necessary, in the conflict which would ensue, to kill. In the darkness
of the night they rushed upon the boat which was drawn up to the shore,
killed the white men and released the captives. He also stated that all
the Indians engaged in the affray, excepting two, had since died of the
small-pox.
This plausible story could not be disproved. The magistrates of
Massachusetts, high-minded and honorable men, wished to treat the
Indians not merely with justice, but with humanity. It could not be
denied that, admitting the facts to be as stated by Sassacus, the
Indians had performed a heroic act--one for which they deserved
praise rather than censure. The Governor of Massachusetts therefore
accepted this explanation, and resumed his friendly alliance with the
treacherous Pequots.
Roger Williams, who had taken up his residence in Rhode Island, had
secured the confidence of the Indians to a wonderful degree. He exposed
himself, apparently, to the greatest perils, without any sense of
danger. He had acquired wonderful facility in speaking the language of
the Narragansets, in the midst of whom he dwelt. There were still so
many indications that the Pequots were plotting hostilities, that the
Governor and Council of Massachusetts wrote to Mr. Williams, urging him
to go to the seat of Canonicus, and dissuade him from entering into any
coalition with the Pequots, should such be in process of formation.
This truly good man immediately left his home and embarked alone, in a
canoe, to skirt the coast of Narraganset Bay, upon his errand of mercy.
It is probable that he made this journey in a birch canoe, paddling his
way over the smooth waters of the sheltered bays. He encountered many
hardships, and many great perils, as occasional storms arose, dashing
the surf upon the shore. After several days of such lonely voyaging,
he reached the royal residence of Canonicus. The barbarian chieftain
was at home, and it so happened that when Mr. Williams arrived at his
wigwam, he found several Pequot warriors there, who had come on an
embassage from Sassacus to engage the Narragansets in the war.
For three days this bold man remained alone among these savages,
endeavoring, in every way, to thwart the endeavors of the Pequot
warriors. These agents of Sassacus were enraged at Mr. Williams’
influence in circumventing their plans. They plotted his massacre,
and every night Mr. Williams had occasion to fear that he would not
behold the light of another morning. But Canonicus, unlettered savage
as he was, had sufficient intelligence to appreciate the fearlessness
and true grandeur of character of Mr. Williams. He dismissed the
discomfited Pequots, refusing to enter into any alliance with them. He
renewed his treaty of friendship with the English, and engaged to send
a large party of his warriors to co-operate with them in repelling the
threatened assault of the Pequots.
The benefits thus conferred upon the English by the efforts of Mr.
Roger Williams were incalculable. Many distant tribes, who were on the
eve of joining Sassacus, alarmed by the defection of the Narragansets,
also withdrew; and thus the Pequots were compelled to enter upon the
war with forces considerably weaker than they had originally intended.
Still they were foes greatly to be dreaded. The English settlements
were now widely scattered, and each was in itself feeble. The Pequots
could marshal four thousand of as fierce warriors as earth has ever
seen. A small bag of pounded corn would furnish each warrior with
food for many days. They could traverse the forest trails with almost
the velocity of the wind. Rushing upon some unprotected hamlet at
midnight, with torch and tomahawk, they could, in one awful hour, leave
behind them but smouldering ashes and gory corpses. Disappearing,
like wolves, in the impenetrable forest, they could again rush upon
any lonely farm-house, leagues away, and thus, with but little danger
to themselves, spread ruin far and wide. No man in the scattered
settlements could fall asleep at night without the fear that the
hideous war-whoop of the Indian would rouse him and his family to a
cruel death before morning.
The Pequots were continually perpetrating new acts of violence, while
the English, with great forbearance, were doing everything in their
power to avert the open breaking out of hostilities. To add to the
embarrassment of the English they received conclusive evidence that
Captains Norton and Stone, with their boats’ crew, were wantonly
murdered by the Indians, and that the statement of extenuating
circumstances, made by Sassacus, was an entire fabrication. The
forbearance of the English only stimulated the insolence of the
Pequots.
In July 1635, John Oldham ventured on a trading expedition to the
Pequot country. He went as an agent of the Massachusetts colony, one
object being to ascertain the disposition of the savages. The Indians
captured his boat, killed Captain Oldham, horribly mutilating his body,
and the rest of the crew, two or three in number, were carried off as
captives. The time for attempts at conciliation was at an end. It was
resolved to prosecute the war with all vigor, and so to punish the
Pequots as to give them a new idea of the power of the English, and to
present a warning to all the other savages against the repetition of
such outrages.
Plymouth colony furnished fifty soldiers, commanded by Captain Miles
Standish. Massachusetts raised two hundred men. The settlements on the
Connecticut furnished ninety men. The Mohegans and Narragansets sent to
the English camp of rendezvous about two hundred warriors, promising
many more. It was decided to strike the Pequots a sudden and heavy
blow. We cannot here enter into the details of the fierce and decisive
war which ensued.
These military bands rendezvoused on the shores of Narraganset bay,
and commenced a rapid march through the forest. The Narragansets were
exceedingly jubilant in the prospect of inflicting vengeance upon a
foe who had often compelled them to bite the dust. As they hurried
along through the narrow trails towards the Pequot territory, volunteer
Narragansets joined them until five hundred feathered warriors were in
their train.
The Indian guides led them to a strong fort, on the banks of the river
Mystic. A large number of Pequot warriors were assembled here, quite
unapprehensive of the attack which was about to fall terribly upon
them. Silently, in the night the English and the Indians surrounded
them, that there might be no escape.
“And so,” writes Governor Bradford, “assaulted them with great courage,
shooting amongst them, and entering the fort with all speed. Those that
first entered found sharp resistance from the enemy, who both shot at
and grappled with them. Others ran into their houses, and brought out
fire and set them on fire, which soon took in their mats, and, standing
close together, with the wind, all was quickly in a flame. Thereby
more were burned to death than were otherwise slain. It burned their
bow-strings, and rendered them unserviceable. Those that escaped the
fire were slain with the sword. Some were hewed to pieces, others were
run through with their rapiers, so that they were quickly dispatched,
and very few escaped. It was conceived that they thus destroyed about
four hundred at this time.
“It was a fearful sight to see them thus frying in the fire, the
streams of blood quenching the same, and horrible was the scent
thereof. But the victory seemed a sweet sacrifice, and they gave the
praise thereof to God, who had wrought so wonderfully for them, thus to
give them so speedy a victory over so proud and insulting an enemy.”[47]
“The Narraganset Indians all this while stood round about, but aloof
from all danger, and left the whole execution to the English, except it
were the stopping of any that broke away; insulting over their enemies
in this their ruin and misery, when they were writhing in the flames.
After this service was thus happily accomplished, they marched to the
water side, where they met with some of their vessels, by which they
had refreshing with victuals and other necessaries.”
The war was continued with vigor, and the Pequot warriors became nearly
exterminated. Sassacus fled to the Mohawks, in New York. They cut off
his head. Thus the war ended. The Pequots were no longer to be feared.
Driven from their homes, they took refuge, in their dispersion, in
different tribes, and this formidable barbaric nation became extinct.
War is always demoralizing. Many, rioting in its scenes of carnage and
of crime, lose all sense of humanity, and become desperadoes. After
the close of the Pequot war, a young fellow, lusty and desperate, by
the name of Arthur Peach, who had done valiant service in cutting down
the Indians, felt a strong disinclination to return to the monotony of
peaceful life. He became thoroughly dissolute, a wild adventurer, ripe
for any crime. To escape the consequences of some of his misdeeds, he
undertook, with three boon companions, as bad as himself, to escape to
the Dutch colony at the mouth of the Hudson. As they were travelling
through the woods they stopped to rest, and, kindling a fire, sat down
to smoke their pipes. An Indian came along, who had a quantity of
wampum, which had become valuable as currency, recognized by all the
tribes. They invited him to sit down and smoke with them. As they were
thus smoking together, Peach said to his companions that he meant to
kill the Indian, “for the rascal,” said he, “has undoubtedly killed
many white men.” The Indian, who did not understand English, was
unsuspicious of danger. Peach, watching his opportunity, thrust his
sword through his body once or twice, and taking from him his wampum
and some other valuables, he and his companions hurried on their way,
leaving him as they supposed, dead.
Though mortally wounded, the Indian so far revived as to reach some of
his friends, when, having communicated to them the facts of the murder,
he died. The men were all arrested. The proof was so positive that
they made no denial of their guilt. They were all condemned, and three
were executed, one having made his escape. Francis Baylies, commenting
upon this occurrence, writes:
“This execution is an undeniable proof of that stern sense of duty
which was cherished by the Pilgrims. To put three Englishmen to
death for the murder of one Indian, without compulsion, or without
any apprehension of consequences, for it does not appear that any
application was made on the part of the Indians, for the punishment
of the murderers, and they might have been pacified by the death
of one, and probably even without that, denotes a degree of moral
culture unknown in new settlements. It stands in our annals without
a parallel instance. The truth of the fact is avouched by all our
early historians, and it stands an eternal and imperishable monument
of stern, unsparing, inflexible justice. And, in all probability it
was not without its earthly reward, for the Indians, convinced of the
justice of the English, abstained from all attempts to avenge their
wrongs, by their own acts, for many years.”[48]
The Plymouth colonists were still much embarrassed in consequence of
their relations with their partners in England, to whom they were still
considerably indebted. The agent of the company there wrote that he
could not make up his accounts, unless some one from the colony should
come over to England to aid him; and he urged that Mr. Winslow should
be sent. But Mr. Winslow was afraid to go. Neither was he willing that
any of his partners should go. The angry tone of letters from England
led him to apprehend serious danger. “For he was persuaded,” writes
Governor Bradford, “that if any of them went they would be arrested,
and an action of such a sum laid upon them as they should not procure
bail, but must lie in prison; and then they would bring them to what
they list.”
Still it was very important that some one should go. Captain Standish
was applied to. He seems to have had as little fear of an English
prison as of the tomahawks and arrows of the Indians. Without any
hesitancy he was ready to embark in the perilous enterprise. But upon
mature deliberation his more cautious friends decided it not to be
prudent to expose him to such peril. But the spirit of justice, which
inspired them in all their transactions, is again conspicuous. They
offered to submit the matter to any gentlemen and merchants of the
Massachusetts colony, whom the company in England themselves might
choose. Before these commissioners both sides should have a hearing.
“We will be bound,” they added, “to stand by their decision, and make
good their award, though it should cost us all we have in the world.”
The company in England declined this magnanimous offer. In the year
1645 Elder Brewster died, at the advanced age of eighty-four years.
He was in Duxbury the next neighbor and the ever warm friend of Miles
Standish. Among the remarkable men who composed the Plymouth colony,
he was one of the most remarkable. By birth, education and wealth he
occupied a high position in English society. In his earlier days he
was the companion of ministers of state. He was familiar with the
magnificence of courts, having represented his sovereign in foreign
embassage. His ample fortune had accustomed him to the refinements
and elegances of life. He might doubtless have spent his days in
ease, honor and opulence. But, true to his religious convictions, all
these he cast aside to share the lot of the humble and persecuted
Puritans. He deemed conformity to the mode of worship adopted by the
Parliament as sinful. And “he chose rather to suffer affliction with
the people of God, than to enjoy the pleasures of sin for a season.”
In the records of the first church in Plymouth we find a very noble
tribute to his memory, probably written by Secretary Morton. Speaking
of his embassage, in his early manhood, to the Low Countries, with Mr.
Davison, Mr. Morton writes,
“He received possession of the cautionary towns; and, in token thereof,
the keys of Flushing being delivered to him in her majesty’s name, he
kept them for some time, and committed them to his servant, who kept
them under his pillow on which he slept, the first night, and, on his
return the States honored him with a gold chain, which his master
committed to him, and commanded him to wear it when they arrived in
England, as they rode through the country until they came to the court.
“Afterwards he went and lived in the country, in good esteem among his
friends and the good gentlemen of those parts, especially the godly and
religious. He did much good in the country where he lived, in promoting
and furthering religion, not only by his practice and example, and
encouraging others, but by procuring good preachers for the places
thereabouts, and drawing on others to assist and help forward in such
a work, he himself commonly deepest in the charge and often above his
abilities. In this state he continued many years, doing the best good
he could, and walking according to the light he saw, until the Lord
revealed further unto him.
“And, in the end, by the tyranny of the bishops against godly preachers
and people, in silencing the one, and persecuting the other, he, with
many more of those times, began to look further into particulars, and
to see into the unlawfulness of their callings, and the burden of many
anti-Christian corruptions, which both he and they endeavored to cast
off, as they also did.
“After they were joined into communion he was a special stay and help
to them. They ordinarily met at his house on the Lord’s day, which was
within the manor of a bishop. With great love he entertained them when
they came, making provision for them to his great charge, and continued
so to do while they should remain in England. And when they were to
remove out of the country, he was the first in all adventures. He was
the chief of those who were taken at Boston, in Lincolnshire, and
suffered the greatest loss, and one of the seven that were kept longest
in prison, and after bound over to the assizes.
“After he came to Holland he suffered much hardship, after he had
spent the most of his means, having a great charge and many children.
And in regard to his former breeding and course, not so fit for many
employments as others were, especially such as were toilsome and
laborious. Yea, he ever bore his condition with much cheerfulness
and content. Towards the latter part of those twelve years, spent in
Holland, his outward condition was mended, and he lived well and
plentiful; for he fell into a way, by reason he had the Latin tongue,
to teach many students, who had a desire to learn the English tongue.
By his method they quickly attained it, with great facility, for he
drew rules to learn it by after the Latin manner. And many gentlemen,
both Danes and Germans, resorted to him, as they had time, from their
other studies, some of them being great men’s sons.
“But now, removing into this country, all these things were laid aside
again, and a new course of living must be framed unto; in which he was
in no way unwilling to take his part, and to bear his burden with the
rest, living many times without bread or corn, many months together;
having many times nothing but fish, and often wanting that also; and
drunk nothing but water for many years together, until five or six
years of his death. And yet he lived, by the blessing of God, in health
until very old age.”
Elder Brewster was an accomplished gentleman, a genial friend, an
eloquent preacher, and a fervent Christian. History has transmitted to
us the record of but few characters so well balanced in all energetic,
harmonious, and lovely traits. He died as he had lived, tranquilly,
peacefully, in the enjoyment of all his faculties. His sickness was
short, confining him to his bed but one day. He could converse with
his friends until within a few hours of his last breath. About ten
o’clock in the evening of April 18th, 1644, he fell asleep.
“Asleep in Jesus, blessed sleep!
From which none ever wake to weep.”