SCENE IN ST. AUGUSTINE. IN THE PIONEERS IN THE SETTLEMENT OF AMERICA FROM FLORIDA IN 1510 TO CALIFORNIA IN 1849. BY WILLIAM A. CRAFTS. ELEGANTLY ILLUSTRATED UNDER THE SUPERVISION OF GEORGE T. ANDREW, FROM ORIGINAL DESIGNS BY F.O.C. DARLEY, WM. L. SHEPARD, GRANVILLE PERKINS, ETC. VOL. I. BOSTON: PUBLISHED BY SAMUEL WALKER AND COMPANY. 1876. E Copyright, SAMUEL WALKER & CO., 1876. ^CAMBRIDGE, MASS.j. ELECTROTYPED AT THE BOSTON STEREOTYPE FOUNDRY, 19 SPRING LANE. CONTENTS I VOLUME I. CHAPTER PACK I. Ponce de Leon and Florida, 5 II. Expedition of Ferdinand de Soto, 10 III. Expedition of De Soto. The Mississippi. Death of De Soto, .... 23 IV. Huguenot Settlement in Florida 31 V. The Huguenot Settlement. Massacre by the Spaniards, 42 VI. Spanish Settlement at St. Augustine, ......... 49 VII. The French on the St. Lawrence. Roberval and Marguerite, . . . . 56 VIII. French Settlement in Acadia 61 IX. The French in Acadia. Jesuit Schemes and English Exploits, .... 68 X. Champlain in Canada, 79 XI. Quebec and the Jesuits, ............ 92 XII. English Settlers in North Carolina, 103 XIII. The Lost Colony of Roanoke. Gosnold's Failure, 109 XIV. Jamestown and Captain John Smith, 115 XV. Vicissitudes at Jamestown, 146 XVI. Pocahontas, 158 XVII. Argall. A New Charter. Introduction of Slaves. Importation of Wives, . . 169 XVIII. Massacre of Settlers by the Indians 177 XIX. Character of the Virginia Colonists. Condition in 1648, ..... 184 XX. Virginia under the Commonwealth, 189 XXI. Royalist Oppression. Bacon's Rebellion, 193 XXII. The Pilgrims at Plymouth, . 208 XXIII. Disagreeable Neighbors. Miles Standish and the Indians, 220 XXIV. Winslow's Visit to Massasoit, 230 XXV. Merry Mount. Standish suppresses a Nuisance 235 XXVI. Charter and Government of the Plymouth Colony, 242 XXVII. The Pilgrim Leaders, . 245 XXVIII. Early Settlers around Massachusetts Bay. The Puritans, .... 248 XXIX. Early Punishments of Obnoxious Persons, 263 XXX. Intolerance. Roger Williams. Anne Hutchinson, ...... 269 XXXI. Pilgrims and Puritans. Incidents, Episodes, and Characteristics, . . . 277 XXXII. Religion. Military Organization. Education, 287 CONTENTS. XXXIII. Roger Williams at Providence, 296 XXXIV. Pioneers and Settlers in Connecticut, . . . . . t . . . 303 XXXV. Indian Murders and English Vengeance . . . 310 XXXVI. The Pequot War, 315 XXXVII. Colonies of New Haven and Saybrook, 325 XXXVIII. United Colonies of New England, . 329 XXXIX. Uncas and Miantonomoh 331 XL. The Connecticut Colonists and the Dutch and Indians, ..... 337 XLI. Eliot, the Apostle to the Indians'. Mayhew, ........ 346 XLII. Persecution of Quakers, 3152 XLIII. The Regicides, Whalley and Goffe, " . . . .366 XLIV. King Philip and the Colonists, 377 XLV. King Philip's War 384 XLVI. King Philip's War. The Narragansetts, 396 XLVII. Attack on Lancaster. Mrs. Rowlandson's Captivity, 400 XLVIII. Continuation and End of the War. Death of King Philip, .... 408 XLIX. Massacre and Captivities, 414 L. Royal Tyranny in New England, and the Spirit of Liberty, .... 428 LI. Witchcraft 443 LIT. Between the Lines of History, 456 LIU. Maine. The Pophain Colony at Sagadahock, ........ 464 LIV. Maine. Plantations and Trading-posts, 470 LV. Conflicts of Rival French Claimants, 482 ILLUSTRATIONS. VOLUME I. I. FRONTISPIECE. (Scene in St. Augustine.) PAGE 2. "3 3- BURIAL OF DE SOTO 28 4- 35 5- MASSACRE OF THE HUGUENOTS AT FORT CAROLINA, 44 6. DINING HALL OF THE FRENCH COLONISTS AT PORT ROYAL, 66 7- BAPTISM OF INDIANS AT PORT ROYAL, .... 69 8. FAMISHED INDIANS SEEKING FOOD AT QUEBEC, 82 9- CHAMPLAIN FIGHTING THE BATTLE OF THE INDIANS, 85 10. THE JESUIT BREBEUF CONFRONTING THE INDIAN COUNCIL, . 101- ii. BAPTISM OF VIRGINIA DARE, in 12. THE SETTLERS AT JAMESTOWN, . 116 13. INDIAN ATTACK ON SETTLERS IN VIRGINIA, ......... 119 14. JOHN SMITH A CAPTIVE AMONG THE INDIANS, 126 15. CAPTAIN SMITH AND THE CHIEF PASPAHEGH, 139 16. MARRIAGE OF JOHN ROLFE AND POCAIIONTAS, 165 17. WIVES FOR THE SETTLERS AT JAMESTOWN, ......... 174 18. GOVERNOR BERKELEY AND THE INSURGENTS, 200 19. THE MAYFLOWER AT SEA, 208 20. THE PILGRIMS RECEIVING MASSASOIT, 2i6 / 21. DEALING OUT THE FIVE KERNELS OF CORN, ......... 218 22. RETURN OF MILES STANDISH FROM WESSAGUSSET, 229. 23. REVELS AT MERRY MOUNT, 236 24. ENDICOT CUTTING DOWN MORTON'S MAY-POLE, 263 25. CODDINGTON AND GORTON 275 26. A FALSE ALARM, 277 27. QUARREL OF WINTHROP AND DUDLEY, .......... 279 28. A PLYMOUTH VESSEL PASSING THE BUTCH FORT AT GOOD HOPE, 304 29. HOOKER AND HIS FRIENDS REACH THE CONNECTICUT, 307 30. JOHN GALLUP'S EXPLOIT, 312' 31. ROGER WILLIAMS OPPOSING THE PEOJJOT EMISSARIES, ....... 317 32. DESTRUCTION OF THE PEOJJOTS, 320 33. ENGLISH AND DUTCH QUARRELS IN CONNECTICUT, 338 34. WHIPPING OF QUAKERS AT THE CART'S TAIL IN BOSTON, 364 35- GOFFE RALLYING THE MEN OF HADLEY, 39O 36. BLOODY BROOK, 392 37- MRS. ROWLANDSON AND HER INDIAN CAPTORS, 4O2 38. DEATH OF KING PHILIP, 413 39- MR. DUSTAN PROTECTING HIS CHILDREN, 46 40. ANDROS A PRISONER IN BOSTON, 44' 41. WITCHCRAFT AT SALEM VILLAGE, 452 42. STOLEN FROLIC IN A PURITAN FARMHOUSE, 457 43. WEYMOUTH SAILING UP THE PENOBSCOT, 464 44. A LORD-MAYOR'S PROCESSION AT AGAMENTICUS, 479 PREFACE. THE pioneers in the settlement of our country include a wide range of characters the cruel Spanish bigot, the fierce French Huguenot, the thriftless adventurer and proud cavalier of Virginia, the tolerant Catholic of Maryland, the exclusive Puritan of New England, the fear- less Jesuit of Canada and the Mississippi Valley, the peaceful Qua- ker of Pennsylvania, the thrifty Dutch trader of New Amsterdam, the daring backwoodsman, the sturdy descendant of the early colonists seeking a new home in the wilderness, the Mormon of Utah, the gold-hunter of California, and others, less distinctly marked, but whose career is full of interest. It is not the purpose of this work to give a connected and com- plete history of the settlements of Europeans in America, and of sub- sequent emigration to the west, but rather to delineate some of the events and incidents which illustrate the characteristics of the pioneers, their manner of life, the hardships they endured, and the perils they encountered. As with the lapse of time the earlier events and incidents recede into a remote past, a romantic interest attaches to them, which, in spite of much that is harsh and commonplace, makes their rela- tion attractive. While the work relates especially to settlements within the limits of the United States, the earlier efforts of the Spaniards for the con- quest and colonization of " Florida," though unsuccessful, were such exploits of knight-errantry as seem to demand a place in its pages. 3 4 PREFA CE. So, too, the adventures of French pioneers in Canada, which led to the establishment of a long line of trading posts and missionary stations in the wilderness of the north-west, and thence down the valley of the Mississippi to the Gulf, cannot well be omitted. But the chief interest attaches to the English-speaking settlers and emigrants, who laid the foundations for the building up of the nation, which now extends across the continent, and occupies that vast territory which, in all its unknown extent, European monarchs once claimed each as his own domain. The story of the pioneers, however, is not confined to the earlier settlement of Europeans in America; the later emigration from the Atlantic coast to the great west over the Alleghanies into the rich valley of the Mississippi and its tributaries, across the plains, and be- yond the Rocky Mountains, and the Sierra Nevada is not without its peculiar features, which are worthy of record and illustration. The experiences of these later pioneers in the interior present some strong contrasts to those of the early colonists, but they exhibit the same phases of human nature, reckless adventure, daring, energy, and en- durance, under different circumstances, and at a later stage of the world's progress. The illustrations, which form an important and most attractive fea- ture of the work, are from original designs by artists of established reputation, whose skill and conscientious study of their subjects render their productions a valuable aid in realizing the scenes and events described, and will be found eminently worthy of public favor. The engraving, executed under the supervision of George T. Andrew, is in the highest style of the art, and is not surpassed by any work of its class ever produced in this country. I. PONCE DE LEON AND FLORIDA. HE discovery of America by Columbus and the explo- rations of subsequent voyagers awakened a spirit of ad- venture among the people of Western Europe. The Spaniards, under the auspices of whose government Co- lumbus had made his memorable voyages, were the foremost in following up the advantages which the dis- covery of the Western Indies and the adjacent conti- nent promised, and they soon had possession of all the principal islands of the Antilles. From these, their expeditions, ever in search of gold and silver, reached the southern continent; Cortes achieved the con- quest of Mexico; Pizarro subdued and plundered Peru; and adven- turers of less renown sought other lands which should afford them equal distinction and wealth. Their early expeditions were chiefly within the tropics, the vast continent lying north being as yet scarcely known to exist, while the luxuriance of tropical vegetation, un warlike and easily-subdued natives, and imaginary stores of wealth, still offered tempting fields for conquest. It was not till 1565, three quarters of a century after the occupation of the Antilles, that they established the first permanent settlement of Europeans within the limits of what is now the United States, in Florida, and called it St. Augustine. 5 6 PONCE DE LEON AND FLORIDA. Previous to this, however, there had been several expeditions, partly private and partly under the auspices of the Spanish government, to conquer the country, and subject it to the dominion of Spain by the establishment of a viceroyalty over its imaginary populous cities and mines of coveted wealth. Such was the manner in which the Span- iards " colonized " the countries which they discovered and claimed, and the purpose of these expeditions was to occupy and hold Florida as the Antilles and Mexico were occupied. At this distance of time a halo of romance surrounds these adventurers, and though they failed in accomplishing their purposes, the story of their attempts to realize vain dreams possesses an interest far exceeding that which attaches to the more successful settlers. Ponce de Leon is called the discoverer of Florida, though it is pos- sible that adventurous mariners had previously traded at some points on the coast. In some way an Indian myth was made known to the Spaniards that in the interior of the vast island or vaster continent at the north there was a fountain of perpetual youth, w r hose waters would renew the life, and strength, and beauty of those who were so fortunate as to bathe therein, and drinking thereof would preserve unfading youth. This fable was almost universally believed by the Spaniards of those credulous times, not only in the West Indies but in Old Spain, and many a high-born dame of Castile ardently hoped that some fortunate knight-errant might discover this precious fountain, and bring some of its magic waters across the sea. And why not? Alchemy had not yet ceased from the labors, which it had for ages pursued, to discover the elixir of life, and to solve the problem of creating gold. Why should not Nature, who had provided inexhaustible mines of treasure in the new world, also furnish those inestimable waters far more po- tent than the 'elixir of the alchemist's wildest dream? Ponce de Leon believed with the rest. The story of his expedition to seek this wonderful fountain is familiar. Age, which with hard ser- vice had furrowed his cheek and bent his frame, made him all the more ready to put faith in the myth, and all the more eager to test the virtues of these youth-restoring waters; he was wealthy, and could fit out an expedition at his own expense ; he had .lately been removed from the governorship of Porto Rico, and enough of youthful ardor PONCE DE LEON AND FLORIDA. remained to lead him to seek new adventures which should exceed in their results all that had yet been realized in this new world. If he could discover the desired fountain, and at the same time conquer a land abounding in the precious metals, what more could he desire! ' There came to De Leon, the sailor, Some Indian sages who told Of a region so bright that the waters Were sprinkled with islands of gold. And they added, 'The leafy Bersini, A fair land of grottos and bowers, Is there ; and a wonderful fountain Upsprings from its gardens of flowers. That fountain gives life to the dying, And youth to the aged restores ; They flourish in beauty eternal, Who set but their feet on its shores.' "Then answered De Leon, the sailor, ' I am withered, and wrinkled, and old ; I would rather discover that fountain Than a country of diamonds and gold.' " He fitted out an expedition with three small vessels, and sailed from Porto Rico on his romantic errand in March, 1512. After sailing among the Bahamas, where he got no intelligence of the object of his search, he turned to the west, and on Easter Sunday discovered land, which he named Florida, in honor of the day, called Pascua Florida by the Spaniards. Island or continent, it was clothed with magnificent forests, where the magnolia lifted its flowery crown beyond the pal- mettos that fringed the shore. But no safe harbor offered an anchor- age, and bad weather kept the voyagers for some days from placing foot upon the promised land. At length Ponce, with some of his fol- lowers, landed at a point a little north of the place where St. Augus- tine was subsequently founded. The natives appeared hostile, and were not disposed to let the intruders penetrate their domain. He could learn nothing of the locality of the fabled fountain, and if the natives deigned to signify its existence, it was always far away, haply in those 8 PONCE DE LEON AND FLORIDA. happy hunting-grounds beyond the Indian's mortal life. Ponce then explored the coast of his discovered land, sailing south and doubling the cape, and visiting the Tortugas. But he found no opportunity to land and penetrate the interior of Florida, and the fountain of youth remained undiscovered. He returned to Porto Rico determined to an- nounce his discovery to his sovereign, and claim the right and the power to accomplish his undertaking as an officer of Spain. Ponce went to Spain, announced his discovery of a new country to be added to the dominions of his Catholic majesty, and was appointed governor of this new province on condition that he should plant a colony there. Nine years elapsed before he succeeded in securing the aid he desired, and was able to fit out a new expedition to secure his prize. These added years, however, had not diminished his desire to find the magic waters and secure unbounded riches. With two ships he sailed to carry out the conditions on which the government of the new province was granted, and to realize the dreams which he had so long cherished. But the natives were even more determined than before to prevent the invasion of their domains, and when he landed they attacked the Spaniards with great ferocity, and drove them on board the ships again, with the loss of many men. Among the wound- ed was Ponce himself. An Indian arrow inflicted a mortal wound on his body; his failure as severely wounded his pride and quenched his ardor; his expectations were disappointed; he was old, with no more hope of rejuvenescence; and with the remnant of his expedition he sailed away to Cuba to die. " One day the old sailor lay dying On the shore of a tropical isle, And his heart was rekindled with rapture, And his face lighted up with a smile. He thought of the sunny Antilles, He thought of the shady Azores, He thought of the dreamy Bahamas, He thought of sweet Florida's shores. And when in his mind he passed over His wonderful travels of old, He thought of the heavenly country, Of the city of jasper and gold. PONCE DE LEON. NARVAEZ. g 'Thank the Lord!' said De Leon, the sailor, ' Thank the Lord for the light of the truth ! I now am approaching the fountain, The beautiful Fountain of Youth ! ' "The cabin was silent. At twilight They heard the birds singing a psalm ; And the wind of the ocean came sighing Through orange-groves fragrant with balm. The sailor still lay on his pallet, 'Neath the low-hanging vines of the roof; His soul had gone forth to discover The beautiful Fountain of Youth." The next Spanish expedition to Florida was less romantic, but more warlike, and in the end even less successful. It was under the command of Pamphilo de Narvaez, who was authorized to conquer Florida for the glory of Spain. He was a grim soldier, and probably had little faith in the existence of the mythical fountain which could restore an eye that he had lost in Mexico. He went to subdue the natives, to subject them to slavery, and to plunder them of their im- agined wealth, to repeat the exploits which Cortes had been per- forming in Mexico. He landed with three hundred men, and was soon lured by the hostile natives into almost impenetrable forests and swamps. Instead of cities containing vast amounts of treasure, he found only small collections of mean wigwams, and instead of weak, indolent, and confiding natives, he found a scattered, but brave and suspicious people, who by cunning and open hostility constantly led him astray and reduced his numbers. After six months of weary marches, fearful sufferings, and heavy losses, the survivors again reached the coast, and constructing some frail boats they gladly left the shores which had proved so disastrous. But the sea was no less fatal, and the boats were all wrecked, only four of the party escaping to return to their countrymen by way of Mexico, after almost incredible sufferings. NO. I. 2 II. EXPEDITION OF FERDINAND DE SOTO. OTWITHSTANDING the disastrous experiences of Ponce de Leon and Narvaez, Florida was still sup- posed to rival Mexico and Peru in wealth; indeed, all America seemed to the Spaniards to be the land of inexhaustible treasures, which it was their privilege to plunder. Nine years after the unfortunate expedi- tion of Narvaez, in 1538, a new and more formida- ble one was fitted out from Spain under the auspices of the govern- ment and the command of Ferdinand de Soto. De Soto had been the friend and lieutenant of Pizarro in the conquest of Peru, where he had shared the good fortune of that leader, and had returned to Spain with his portion of the plunder before internal feuds among the Spanish conquerors should deprive him of it. In Spain for a time he displayed his wealth and enjoyed his reputation as one of the most successful soldiers of the time, second only to Pizarro in the distinc- tion of having added to the Spanish empire a province of boundless wealth. He was received with the highest honors at court, and was everywhere lauded by the people. But his ambition was not satisfied: he had been only a subordinate in Peru; he desired to be the leader in a more brilliant conquest, and to surpass his former friend in the acquisition of wealth. The favor with which he was received by Charles V. made him far from backward in asserting his claims and preferring requests. He asked for the most important position in the new world, with the privilege of conquering Florida, a country which, in the Spanish geogra- phy of that period, extended indefinitely to the north and west of the 10 EXPEDITION OF DE SO TO. IT shores to which the name was first applied. His demands were con- ceded; he was made governor of Cuba, and was authorized, in the name of Spain, to conquer and hold the vast territory which in the interior was believed to contain richer and more important places than the cities of the Montezumas or the Incas. When De Soto announced his purpose, adventurers of all grades flocked to his standard, and desired to join an expedition which, under his lead, promised such brilliant results. Noble and peasant, soldier and civilian, merchant and artisan, rich and poor, were alike eager to share in the glory and wealth which they anticipated would be the fruits of the expedition. Many an hidalgo disposed of his estates to secure means to fit out himself and his followers, and men of humbler station in like manner sold their property to procure arms and other necessaries for the voyage and the campaign. The wildest hopes were excited, for all had full faith in the experience and knowledge of one who had endured the perils, won the distinction, and secured the profits of a campaign in the new world. Not only Spaniards, but many Portuguese, when they heard of the expe- dition, sought to join it, and came well prepared for the service which the famous leader might expect of them. All these aspirants after fame and riches assembled in the port of San Lucar, where De Soto was fitting out his ships. From the great number of eager volunteers he selected such as seemed best to answer his purpose, including several hundred horsemen, and organized them into a small army; and scarcely a smaller number were doomed to the disappointment of remaining at home. He supplied his ships with everything that his former experience suggested, and the cruelty which had been practised in Peru taught him to provide chains and fetters, and instruments of torture, for the natives, whom he expected to enslave and plunder. He was careful to secure a sufficient number of artisans, with the implements of their respective trades, to repair arms and equipments, build bridges, and perform other mechanical labors which might be necessary on the march, or in the " palaces " of the conquered chieftains. A pack of bloodhounds, withal, was deemed essential to complete the outfit, the cruel purposes of which were thus made manifest. As if to sanctify all these preparations for the destruction, torture, and robbery of the poor natives, a number of priests and ecclesiastics, of various grades, with the I2 EXPEDITION OF DE SO TO. insignia of the church, accompanied the expedition, to perform the sol- emn ceremonies which the faith and religious zeal of the adventurers required, and perchance to convert such captives as the sword and the bloodhounds might spare. With such a force and outfit, far more complete and formidable than those with which Cortes and Pizarro had achieved their conquests, De Soto set sail, with the blessing of the church and amid the shouts of the populace that swarmed on the shores. The fleet proceeded to Cuba, where De Soto assumed his office of governor, and made further prep- arations for carrying out his enterprise, and was joined by some of the residents in that island whose avarice was not satisfied with the wealth they were amassing there. Meanwhile one or two of his ships were sent to Florida, to explore the coast and seek a harbor. The harbor was found, and two natives were captured and brought back to Cuba. Com- munication could be held with them only by signs, and the first question proposed to them was for the purpose of ascertaining the existence of gold in Florida. Whether by the misinterpretation of signs or the de- ception of the Indians, the Spaniards were led to believe that the country they were to invade abounded in the precious metal, and they were more eager than ever to enter upon their career of conquest, and secure the wealth which they imagined so near. The fetes which followed the arrival of De Soto in Cuba being over, and his preparations being completed, he left his young wife to administer the government of the island, and sailed for his more magnificent province. The voyage was short, but it was a fortnight before they reached a harbor where they could effect a landing. This was in the Bay of Espiritu Santo;* and on landing, De Soto, with religious ceremonies, set up the standard of Spain, and took possession of the country in the name of his sovereign. The work of disembarking so many men, with their equipments, stores, and mechanical implements, two or three hundred horses, and a drove of swine, which were to accompany the expedition for food, was long and laborious. But at last it was accomplished, the forces were organized, the labor of transporting the luggage provided for, and the command was ready to move on its march to conquer what they imagined to be the richest country that had yet been discovered. The * Now Tampa Bay. BIVOUAC OF DE SOTo's EXPEDITION IN FLORIDA. DE SO TO IN FLORIDA. T , few natives who appeared were made captives, to guide the invaders to the rich interior. With these uncertain guides, who could not compre- hend the avarice which prompted so formidable an expedition, or who purposely deceived their captors, the march commenced. Thick forests and troublesome swamps soon impeded their progress; a luxuriant vege- tation surrounded them; but their thoughts were on the spoils which they believed were before them, and neither toils disturbed nor the beau- ties of nature attracted them. De Soto did not "burn his ships," but he gave orders for most of them to return immediately to Cuba. A few, however, remained, and among them one fitted out from Cuba, by Porcallo, at great expense. This man, who was advanced in years, was a wealthy resident of Cuba, and had joined the expedition for the purpose of procuring slaves to labor on his vast estates. The experience of a few days was sufficient to prove to him that he was not equal to the toil of such a march, while the chances of speedily loading his ship with slaves receded rapidly from the expectations he had indulged. He therefore returned to the coast with his followers, and embarking, sailed away for Cuba. The haughty De Soto wasted no words on him, but lest his example should prove contagious, pressed forward with a confidence which inspired the rest. Full of hope, the invaders enjoyed the novelty of their march through those unexplored regions. A genial climate, whose noonday heat was tempered by abundant shade, no lack of food, which captive Indians were compelled to assist in transporting, a free, holiday life, which was to be crowned with wealth and honors, all contributed to make their journey one of excitement and pleasure. Imagine a bivouac of this strange host in an opening of a Florida forest. Everywhere in the grateful shade weary soldiers lie stretched upon the ground, or recline against the giant trunks, dreaming of their anticipated success, or, haply, of their far-off homes in Old Spain, where wife and children sadly count the months which must elapse ere they return laden with riches. Hun- gry men are devouring their rations, which arc not yet reduced to a short allowance. Horsemen have dismounted, and lazily groom and feed their animals. Artisans examine and repair arms and trappings, or cut young saplings from which to fashion new lances. A body of I4 EXPEDITION OF DE SO TO. priests, with all the insignia of their office and the altar, and accom- panied by the leaders of the expedition, march in solemn procession through aisles more grand than the proudest cathedral of Old Spain can boast, to commemorate some obscure saint, or to dedicate the land to the dominion of the church. Here and there, in contrast with the religious ceremonies, are gathered groups of the adventurers, playing cards (a game which at that time was a passion with the Spaniards), and recklessly staking their coin or their trinkets, and even their shares of prospective plunder, while a few Indian captives, with iron collars on their necks and fetters on their wrists, look on in silent wonder, and leashed and muzzled bloodhounds crouch, harmless for the time, near by. It is a veritable holiday in the woods, and there rises from this strange multitude a din unwonted in these solitudes, and yet not boisterous, in which are mingled the sacred chant and the bacchanalian song, the soft Castilian tongue and hoarse laughter, and through it all the sleepers slumber undisturbed. But this novelty of the campaign, which made it at first seem but a holiday excursion, soon wore off. Days and weeks passed, and yet they found no signs of that wealth of which they were in search. The In- dians whom they captured or saw wore no golden ornaments, and their dwellings were a few poor cabins or wigwams, rather than populous towns. So far as they answered the anxious inquiries of the Spaniards for the region of opulent cities, they pointed far away, and not always in the same direction. Continued disappointment led the invaders to believe that they were deceived, and they began to practise a cruelty towards the poor natives which, at a later period, they indulged to a fearful extent. On the march they found one of their countrymen who had been held in captivity by the Indians since the unsuccessful expe- dition of Narvaez; but though he had never heard of any region of gold and silver, or of any populous and permanently constructed towns, they still believed in the reality of their golden dreams, and that their guides were purposely leading them astray. They tortured these un- willing guides, and threatened to deliver them to the tender mercies of the bloodhounds; but torture and threats were of no avail, and if under such pressure the direction of the march was varied, it brought them no nearer to the realization of their hopes. They were continu- ally involved in difficult forests and dangerous swamps. The natives IN WINTER QUARTERS. ! S they met exhibited signs of hostility, and though feeble in numbers and arms, opposed the progress of the invaders with such means as they could. Such as were captured were put to death, or fettered and doomed to slavery. Thus through the summer months De Soto made his slow and laborious progress, and in the autumn he reached the head of Appala- chee Bay. Here, on more favorable ground, he halted. His men and horses had suffered much, and were worn down with fatigue, and it was necessary to recruit their strength before continuing the march. With fatigue came also the heart-sickness of hope deferred. Many of the men now despaired of success; the promised wealth seemed to have receded with their lengthened march, and they became dispirited, and talked of abandoning the further search, and returning to Cuba and Spain. De Soto himself brooded gloomily over his disappointment, but he could not brook the idea of failure. He established a permanent camp in which to pass the winter, and prepare for a more vigorous search in the spring. But the spirit of discontent continued, and while the haughty and reticent leader crushed his own misgivings, and, indulging in his dream of conquest and wealth, laid his plans for the future, some of his offi- cers approached him and represented the uselessness of continuing the expedition. " For months," they said, " we have toiled through these dis- mal forests and swamps, and yet we find no wealthy cities and no sign of gold. The men are worn out and dispirited, the horses are broken down. Cuba and Hispaniola offer us better things; let us turn back." De Soto listened in silence. He was a man of few words, and he knew that his will was law to his followers. "Turn back!" he haugh- tily replied; "never, till I have proved with my own eyes that the country is destitute of gold." Yielding to that indomitable will, the officers retired, and sought to pacify their discontented followers. To revive their hopes and keep his men employed, the politic commander sent out parties to explore the country for long distances from the place where he had made his permanent camp. One of these moved westward as far as the present site of Pensacola, where a Spanish ship was found, and a message was sent to Cuba ordering supplies to be sent to that harbor for the next T 6 EXPEDITION OF DE SO TO. year. The men would gladly have gone with the message if they could, but it was something to be able to communicate with their countrymen, and to be assured that they would not want for food. In the spring the whole body left their winter quarters, and started again on their march, with renewed hopes of finding the rich country of which they were in search. De Soto had secured a new guide, and whether he was himself deceived by the poorly interpreted signs of a cunning Indian, or to encourage his followers deemed it neces- sary to practise some deception by highly coloring the native's state- ments, it was given out that this new guide promised to lead the com- mand to a distant region which abounded in gold. This country, it was said, was ruled by a woman, and it was further declared that the art of melting and refining of the precious metal was understood there, and was described by this guide so well that he must have witnessed the operation. These statements inspired the Spaniards with new hope; the promised land was now sure to be discovered, for this was the first definite information they had received concerning it. They ceased to think of returning, and eagerly entered upon a new campaign. The native indicated that this rich country lay in a north-easterly direction, and it is possible that he really pointed to what has since been known as the gold region of North Carolina. But it is quite as probable that the land of which he told if he did describe such a land was an Indian myth, and he sought only to lead the strangers away from the country of his tribe. Be this as it may, the Spaniards unhesitatingly moved in the direction indicated. On higher ground, and less impeded by morasses, they made more rapid progress than they had in the previous year. They found a country watered by noble rivers, with a luxuriant vegetation, fertile valleys, and forests of magnificent timber, offering ample inducements for industrious colonists to settle. But they were in search of gold, and a people whom they could enslave and compel to toil for their emolument. So long as they met with no extraordinary obstacles, they thought not of delay or return. After a time, however, the Indian guide of whom they ex- pected so much, grew tired of the service, or, perhaps, thinking he had led the invaders sufficiently far from the country occupied by his tribe, he began to hesitate. He feigned madness, or conducted himself in such CRUELTT TO THE NATIVES. ! 7 an unusual manner that the Spaniards thought him demented, and called in the priests to exorcise the devil that possessed him. This was done with appropriate ceremonies; in the language of an old chronicler, "They said a gospel over him, and the fit left him." Though the devil was exorcised, the guide failed to lead the Span- iards by an easy path, and they became involved in thick forests, with frequent morasses and rivers. They made little progress, and the ex- periences of the previous year were renewed. The leaders threatened to deliver the guide to the bloodhounds, but he had become valuable as an interpreter, and for this reason they forbore. Some other natives had recently been captured, and as they lived nearer to the supposed land of gold, they were brought before De Soto and his officers to be questioned. The first promptly and truthfully replied, that he knew nothing of such a country as they sought. This so incensed the com- mander, who believed that the native was deceiving him, that he gave order to have him burned. The order was obeyed with alacrity. He was bound to a stake, the fagots were piled around him and lighted, and the whole force of the Spaniards looked on without remorse, if not with satisfaction, and jeered at his sufferings; but the brave Indian did not retract or falter. His companions, however, who witnessed the cruel scene, and comprehended the cause, learned that falsehood was more acceptable to their captors than the truth, and were not slow to practise the deception which might save their lives. This was the first act of extreme cruelty on the part of the inva- ders, but it was by no means the last. As the march continued through weary months and years, and the promised land forever re- ceded, they avenged their disappointment on the guiltless natives with unsparing hand. And considering the age, the nation, and the charac- ter of the expedition, why should they not? There were nobles who had exhausted their means and endured toils and hardships for the sake of conquest, wealth, and distinction. There were soldiers of fortune, eager for the chances of personal advancement. There were avari- cious knaves seeking only for gold, and reckless adventurers ready alike for plunder or for blood. And there were priests, who, with vain pomp, proclaimed the supremacy of the Roman church, and were ready to enforce conversion by torture and the stake rather than teach the NO i. 3 1 8 EXPEDITION OF DE SO TO. principles of a better religion to the benighted natives. To all these of what account were the miserable heathen, who were worse than heretics? Were not heretics in their own country, men and women of their own nation and blood, daily tortured, and not unfrequently burned? De Soto and his companions were not acting in violation of the dictates of their consciences, the spirit of the age, or the teachings of their priests; but a fearful retribution awaited them. De Soto believed that the terrible example he had made of their comrade had terrified the other Indians into telling the truth, and he followed the course which they indicated, though it was only a cunning device to avoid death by fire, and to increase the chances of escape. This course led them at last to a small Indian village, where a rosary and a dagger were found. From the .uncertain information obtained from the natives it was supposed that these were relics of the expedition of Vasquez de Ayllon, who, some twenty years before, had landed on the shores of South Carolina, secured two ship-loads of natives, and carried them away to slavery, and who, in a subsequent attempt, was driven away with the loss of many men. The discovery of these relics, an incident unimportant in itself, gave rise to a new feeling among a portion of De Soto's followers. They had again become dispirited by their toilsome journey. Day after day the weary march had been resumed, and yet they saw no signs of the coveted wealth; they found a country rich only in its luxuriant vegetation. But now these mementos of their countrymen led them to believe that they were not far from the eastern coast, and within reach of the sea, which might bear them to their home. What need of further fruitless toil? Near the coast they might form a settlement; the rich soil might be cultivated, and afford them ample sustenance; and, eventually, ships from Spain or Cuba might offer them an opportunity, if they wished, of re- turning to their own country. The idea soon grew into a desire, and a proposition was made to De Soto that it should be carried into effect. The haughty leader listened patiently to the proposal, but he replied with a refusal as decisive as before. He had come for conquest ; the country had been assigned him to subdue, and to discover its hidden wealth, and he was not yet ready to acknowledge failure, and to found a miserable colony of poverty-stricken adventurers where he had promised to establish an empire of surpassing magnificence. His followers still FRUITLESS WANDERINGS. ! 9 had faith in him, and were accustomed to yield to his imperious will; and though it may have been with disappointment and regret, they relin- quished the idea of abandoning the object of the expedition, and pre- pared to continue their long, difficult, and fruitless wanderings. Under the direction of uncertain guides the Spaniards now moved to the north, and during the months of the second summer they wan- dered about in various directions in the country which now forms the northern part of Georgia and Alabama. Reaching the mountain ranges, which they deemed impassable, they again turned to the south. The natives were less hostile than those nearer the coast, and furnished such supplies as their poorly cultivated fields yielded. The invaders, however, did not wait for the natives to offer their gifts; they not only demanded whatever the country afforded, but compelled the Indians to carry their burdens. They found a few miserable villages of wigwams, but no substantial towns, like those of Mexico and Peru. They saw no orna- ments other than painted skins and feathers, and they discovered no traces of precious ores, though they traversed a country where, at a pe- riod long subsequent, gold has been found. The golden maize ripening in the meagre plantations of the natives was the nearest approach to the wealth of which they had dreamed, for it furnished them with palatable food. Berries and amber grapes hanging plentifully on the wild vines refreshed them on the weary march, and persimmons untouched by frost received their curses. Noble forest trees afforded them grateful shade from the noonday sun, and numerous streams quenched the thirst of man and beast. But all these tokens of a productive soil, and a land admi- rably adapted to meet the wants of civilized man, were held of little account. The object of their search, a land of gold and barbarian splen- dor, was still before them, in the mysterious depths of an unexplored continent. In October, the Spaniards had reached what is now the south-western part of Alabama, and on the banks of the river of that name they came to a considerable Indian town. It was composed of slightly built houses of bark, but to the adventurers who had slept so long in the woods and fields, its shelter was not unattractive. They entered the town without any parley, and sought to take possession of the Indian dwellings without condescending to ask permission. The natives were indignant at the license in which the invaders indulged, and arose en masse to resist them. 20 EXPEDITION OF DE SO TO. A fearful battle ensued. The Indians fought desperately in defence of their homes, but they were unable to cope with the superior weapons of the Spaniards, and especially with the cavalry, whose horses and whose fiery charge inspired a mortal dread. They were slaughtered on every side, men, women, and children suffering alike at the hands of the vin- dictive " Christians." The houses were fired, and the flames spread rapidly through the closely-built town, consuming not a few of the un- fortunate inmates. Upwards of two thousand of the Indians were killed, and only a small remnant of the inhabitants of the town escaped to the neighboring forest. Though the contest was extremely unequal, the Spaniards did not escape without severe loss. About twenty of them were killed, and a hundred and fifty wounded; a dozen horses were slain, and many others were more or less disabled; while a large part of the luggage of the invaders, which had been brought into the town, was consumed in the flames. Besides the losses experienced in this battle, De Soto's force had pre- viously been diminished by sickness and the hardships of the campaign. Here and there along the devious course of his march, rude crosses marked the graves where' his followers had buried their comrades who had fallen by the way. Many were now suffering from wounds, others were sick, and a large number were dispirited. Clothing and supplies had been burned, and another winter was approaching. Under such circumstances most leaders would have moved to the neighborhood of Pensacola, which was within easy march, or would at least have sent a party thither, to obtain the supplies which he had ordered to be sent there from Cuba. But De Soto was unwilling to communicate with his countrymen until he could boast of success in some degree commensurate with his promises. He would not permit the news of his failure to be carried to Cuba and Spain ; his haughty spirit could not brook the idea of the humiliation and ridicule which would attach to his name were such failure known. He determined, therefore, to direct his march again into the interior, still vainly hoping that at last his dreams might be realized. With his weakened force, and his now slender supplies, he marched to the north, living in part upon the maize which was found growing wild, or here and there in the poorly cultivated fields of the natives. Winter had already come when he reached a village of the Chickasaws, in the northern part of what is now Mississippi. The Indians were away 77V AN INDIAN VILLAGE. 21 on one of their hunting expeditions, and having carried all their limited stock of household goods with them, the village seemed utterly aban- doned. It consisted of small houses, covered with bark, and thatched with grass and stalks of maize, clustered with little regard to order about a larger building, of like construction, in which the councils of the tribe were held. Here De Soto determined to go into winter quarters. With his higher officers and the priests he took possession of the council-house, and his men were closely quartered in the smaller wigwams, glad enough to secure even such poor shelter from the cold and storms. Snow fell, and though the winter was much milder than in more northern regions, to the Spaniards it seemed severe, and their sufferings were rendered more acute by the long and weary marches they had made, and the ex- hausting toil they had endured. But the forest furnished them with leaves for beds, and abundant fuel for fires. They gathered the maize, that was still standing in the fields awaiting the return of the Indians, and they killed such little game as the woods afforded, to supplement their rapidly decreasing stores. Sickness prevailed, and the greater part of the men, now thoroughly dispirited, no longer hoped to find the opulent towns in which, at the outset, they had expected to revel after a few days' march. At last the wandering tribe returned, to find their homes occupied by a strange race. They were indignant, but they stood in awe of strangers who seemed to them to be of supernatural origin, and they forbore to resent the invasion, seeking shelter with a kindred tribe. When their chief and some of his warriors ventured to communicate with the Spaniards, De Soto, as usual, sought from them information concerning the rich country which he still believed or hoped must be within his reach. But they were as ignorant as those whom he had previously questioned. They exhibited no friendly disposition, but watched with jealous eyes the conduct of the invaders, whom they at length found to be only mortals. As spring approached, De Soto, impatient to continue his fruitless search, prepared to resume his march. As he had done with other tribes, he demanded of the Chickasaw chief that he should furnish men to carry the supplies. Wholly ignorant of the character and customs of these independent savages, he sought to treat them as Pizarro had treated the more gentle and timid Peruvians. But this haughty demand, 22 EXPEDITION OF DE SO TO. added to the invasion of their homes, was too much for the incensed natives. They mustered their warriors, not to bear the burdens of the Spaniards, but to make a sudden and unexpected attack upon them. Stealthily approaching under the shades of night, they set fire to the combustible houses on every side, and with the fearful war-whoop startled the slumbering Spaniards, who woke to find themselves sur- rounded by flames. Escaping as best they could, many of them with scanty clothing and without weapons, the surprised invaders were ex- posed to the attack of the savages, and might have suffered fearful loss had the latter availed themselves of the opportunity to deal an effective blow. The Indians, however, who were few in number, were satisfied with destroying the shelter of their foes, and were afraid of those unknown monsters, the horses, which, escaping from the flames, dashed wildly through the forest; after sending a few arrows into the midst of the confused Spaniards, they withdrew. Had they been more numerous, and made a determined attack on the invaders, they might have anni- hilated them. Though they were spared the blows of the tomahawk and war-club, the Spaniards suffered severely. Eleven of their number perished in the flames, and many others were severely burned; numbers of their horses and of their swine were also burned; much of their clothing was destroyed, and their arms rendered useless; and scarcely any shelter was left even for the naked and wounded. Morning found them almost defenceless and wholly demoralized. But the indomitable will which had conducted them through their long and laborious march into this unexplored wilderness was equal to the emergency, and was at once exerted to restore order and efficiency to the demoralized force. The damaged arms were at once collected, forges erected, and swords and spear-heads newly tempered and sharpened. Garments and mats were woven from the bark of trees, grass, and trailing moss, and many of the Spaniards soon appeared in motley array scarcely superior to that of the natives. Stout lances were fashioned from the excellent timber which the forest afforded, and in a few days De Soto's forces were again pre- pared for resistance. Meanwhile the Indians had been gathering the scattered warriors of their tribe, and at last attempted to surprise their enemies ; but they found the Spaniards ready, and they were too wary to risk an open battle. III. EXPEDITION OF DE SOTO.-THE MISSISSIPPI. DEATH OF DE SOTO. MONTH later, April, 1541, found De Soto and his follow- ers, who had moved westward from their winter quar- ters, at an Indian village in the western part of Mississippi. With supplies greatly reduced by the fire, they began to experience privation in addition to the severe toil of the march, and they were glad to avail themselves of what they could obtain from the limited stores of the natives. But now, as always, their most anxious inquiry was for the region of gold and populous towns, and as usual they demanded guides who should lead them towards that favored country. Here, however, as before, the natives knew nothing of the fabled land. The happy hunting-grounds of their departed warriors they believed lay far to the west, and thither they were quite willing the invaders should hasten if they could but be rid of them. Guides were accordingly ready to conduct the wanderers to the verge of the territory occupied by this tribe, and under their lead De Soto discovered, not the object of his ambition, but the great river of the west, the mighty Mississippi! The first European who had looked upon the " Father of Waters," De Soto stood upon a bluff and gazed in wonder at the majestic river that told how vast was the continent which he had claimed for the dominion of his sovereign. Had he been an explorer, and not an ambitious adventurer in pursuit of conquest and plunder, the discovery would have filled him with proud satisfaction. Now it was only a broad 2 3 2 4 EXPEDITION OF DE SO TO. river which impeded his progress, and separated him from his anticipated success. As it was an obstacle to overcome, so it had the effect to stimulate the hopes of De Soto and his followers. Surely, beyond this great river lay the country of which they were in search. This was the barrier which separated the poor and ignorant savages whom they had met from a more refined race that knew the value of gold, and had vast treasures in store ready for them to seize. While the adventurers tarried a few days on the banks of the river, uncertain how they should cross, the news of the arrival of the strange force was carried across the waters, and spread among the tribes on the other side. They gathered in large numbers, and in a fleet of canoes came sailing down the river to the bluff on which the Spaniards were encamped. To the strangers the approach of the natives was a splendid sight. Line after line, in regular order, came the canoes bearing warriors gayly decorated with paint and feathers, and chiefs, still more gaudily arrayed, sitting under gorgeous awnings. It was the first display of order and pomp that the invaders had witnessed, and they believed, as they saw the gallant array, that the people whose possessions they coveted were at last discovered. The Indians approached the shore cautiously, the warriors grasping their bows and arrows, ready to resent any sign of hostility which the Spaniards might exhibit. But wonder and curiosity got the better of their caution and their fears, and they landed to look upon the strangers whom they believed to be " children of the sun." The invaders treated them with the same arrogance they had displayed towards all the natives, and came near precipitating a fight; but the Indians were impressed with their superiority, and submitted to indignities which they would not have borne if offered by men of their own race. They brought fish and maize, and such other food as their limited resources afforded, and the Spaniards, though expressing small thanks, were ready enough to accept even the simplest offerings of this kind. De Soto was eager to cross the river and penetrate the country be- yond, and he demanded of the natives canoes to transport his forces. The canoes, however, were small, and capable of carrying only a few men each at best. The horses could not swim so great a distance and against PROGRESS TO MISSISSIPPI. 2 5 so strong a current, and it was found necessary to construct barges to transport them. This labor occupied several weeks, but at last a sufficient number, capable of bearing three horses each, were built, and with canoes and barges the adventurers crossed to the western bank. And now, with hopes revived, they commenced anew the search for the favored country which was the object of the expedition. They moved northward through a vast alluvial region, clothed with a mag- nificent vegetation, and abounding in morasses and bayous, which made the march a difficult and toilsome one. Surmounting these obstacles, they at last reached a more elevated country, and extended their wan- derings to the southern part of Missouri. The natives with whom they met were mostly of a peaceful character, who lived in permanent vil- lages, and depended for their subsistence upon a rude cultivation of the soil. They regarded the Spaniards as a superior race, and believed they were the "children of the sun;" a belief which the Spaniards encouraged. Through all this region the invaders found no want of subsistence so long as the natives could furnish supplies, and these were taken without regard to the rights or necessities of the owners. Unwarlike, and conscious of the superiority of the strangers, the Indians offered no resistance. On the contrary, they were anxious to propitiate the Spaniards, and, believing in their supernatural origin, brought the sick and the blind to be healed. To such humble and reverent en- treaties, however, the Spaniards replied with more of arrogance than humility, by bidding them " pray only to God." In a favorable locality on the banks of the Mississippi, at the north- ern limit of their march, the Spaniards encamped for more than a month. The river, the forest, and the stores of the natives furnished them with subsistence, and unmolested by hostile savages they lived a life of comparative ease and perhaps of pleasure. Far away from their country and civilized life, in the heart of an unexplored continent, they indulged in their favorite game of cards and such other amusements as their gypsy life suggested. They hunted in the forest, and fished on the river, and gathered wild fruits on the sunny slopes. They lay at ease in the shadow of the thick foliage, and forgetting for a time the disappointments of their fruitless search, they jested over the toils and dangers through which they had passed. And daily the priests said NO. i. 4 2 g EXPEDITION OF DE SO TO. mass and observed the various ceremonials of the church with all the formality and pomp that their brethren practised in the heart of Spain. De Soto learned from the natives that the country farther north was composed of barren lands and open prairie, ranged over by herds of buffalo, and inhabited only by wandering tribes of hunters, and experi- ence had taught him that he need not seek his El Dorado in such a region. He therefore moved to the west until he reached a low range of mountains. But in this direction, also, he found no indications that such a thing as gold was known. He passed through many Indian settlements, but they were small villages of the rudest huts, and the only wealth of the inhabitants "was their limited stock of maize and a few skins and curiously wrought garments of feathers. Then the march was directed towards the south, and when winter came, the wander- ers, again dispirited, were in the vicinity of the hot springs of Arkan- sas, on the head waters of the River Washita, where they tarried till spring. As their prospects of success had diminished, the Spaniards added to the arrogance with which they had always treated the Indians vin- dictive and wanton cruelty. They cut off the hands of many of the natives on the most frivolous pretences, and without restraint reckless young adventurers would quarrel with and then maim or kill them in order to boast of their prowess. In the eyes of the Spaniards what rights had these miserable heathen that Christian cavaliers should respect? Such treatment produced its legitimate fruit. The Indians became more distrustful and wary, and but for their fears would have manifested open hostility. They attempted to conceal their small stores of food, and besides being robbed, were fearfully punished for the offence. Guides sought to conduct them away from the villages of their friends, and upon discovery of the treachery, if not upon mere suspicion, they would be bound and thrown to the bloodhounds. The stay at their winter quarters in Arkansas was the last season of rest for the invaders, but it was far different from their summer sojourn on the banks of the Mississippi. The weary months were not passed in recreation. They experienced privations in spite of robbing the natives of their subsistence. Many were worn out by fatigue, or prostrated by sickness, and their numbers now were more frequently reduced by death. DEATH OF DE SO TO. 2>J They were disheartened; all hopes of the success of their enterprise were abandoned, except by a few over-sanguine spirits, who hoped without reason. De Soto himself was despondent. He had traversed vast distances through the country which was to be his royal province, but nowhere had he found the slightest token of that wealth which he coveted, and which he had so proudly promised, and he was now no nearer the goal of his ambition than when he landed on the shores of Florida. His followers were decreasing in numbers, and the natives were becoming more hostile. In spite of the disgrace of failure he thought once more of home, and he determined to follow the river, of whose course and outlet he knew nothing, to the sea. In the early spring the Spaniards left their winter quarters and fol- lowed the course of the Washita River south. The march was a long and laborious one, through thick forests and dangerous swamps, and was often obstructed by bayous, where alligators showed their hideous forms. Reaching the mouth of the Red River, De Soto inquired the distance to the sea, but he could learn nothing save that a vast, uninhabited, and impenetrable country lay at the south. The haughty leader was dis- mayed. His men, overcome by the toils of the march and the malaria of the swamps, were dying around him, and he had lost many horses in the morasses. His force was daily becoming weaker, while the Indians, seeing that the strangers were mortal, no longer regarded them as chil- dren of the sun, and manifested open hostility. Reports of the cruelty of the Spaniards had preceded them, and the tribes whom they now met were not disposed to submit to robbery and outrage without resistance, and when they still claimed a supernatural origin, their pretensions were met with derision. w If you are children of the sun," said one of the chiefs, " dry up the river, and I will believe you." Anxious and despondent, and worn out with the fatigues of his unsuccessful journey, De Soto could no longer bear up against disease. Hope was gone and reputation lost; his courage deserted him, and his haughty will surrendered at last to circumstances. He took to his mis- erable couch under an attack of malignant fever, for which the skill of the camp had no remedy. Conscious that death was near, he called his officers about him, and at their request named his successor; and then the priests administered the extreme rites of the church, with whatever con- 2 g EXPEDITION OF DE SO TO, solation that ceremony might bring to his disappointed spirit ere it fled. And thus, after three years of fruitless toil to realize his unbounded ex- pectations, and redeem his ambitious promises, died De Soto, and with him perished the dream of an El Dorado within the shores of Florida.* Well might the Spaniards grieve for the loss of their commander, for it was his skill and energy that had carried them through the many difficulties of their long journey. Having perfect confidence in him, they had willingly followed wherever he chose to lead; to be without him now, when the difficulties and dangers were greater than ever, added a sense of general bereavement to personal grief for one beloved and honored. Fearful that so serious a loss should become known to the Indians, and encourage them to active and sudden hostilities, they deter- mined to keep his death a secret, and, in the darkness of night, to sink his remains in the waters of the Mississippi. At midnight, as the waning moon just rose above the boundless forest, when deep silence brooded over the thick woods and the dark river, broken only by the hoot of the owl and the cry of the night-heron, a solemn procession moved slowly through the camp of the Spaniards, and down the winding pathway to the shore. It was headed by the priests, with crucifix and candles, chanting lowly a requiem for the dead. After them came the nobles of the expedition, bearing the body of their late leader, wrapped closely in his mantle, and followed by the whole force of the adventurers, in long array, sincerely mourning their chief, whom they had so faithfully served, and in whose iron will they had implicitly trusted. At the river side, the head of the procession embarked in canoes and barges, with their sacred burden, and, while the larger number stood in silence on the shore, paddled slowly out upon the river, the priests still chanting their solemn requiem. Midway between the shores they paused, and, with brief rites, the body of De Soto was committed to the waters, and sank to its resting-place in the bed of the great river which he had discovered. The procession of canoes returned to the shore, and the despondent wanderers to their camp. Though, at divers places in its immense length, during the centuries the Mississippi had flowed on its winding course to the sea, doubtless many a solemn procession had passed over its waters, and many a mystic * The name of Florida was then given to the country indefinitely, north and inland. I EFFORTS TO RETURN. 2O/ rite had been performed upon its banks, never before had it borne a procession like this, or witnessed the sacred rites of Christian burial, and heard the chant of Christian requiem. And the first time these ceremonies of a new and better religion were here performed, was when the first Christian who had looked upon its waters was buried beneath them. With the death of De Soto the romantic interest of this unfortunate expedition ends. There was no longer any hope of discovering and occupying a country abounding in gold, or of the conquest of a people who possessed immense treasures. The avarice which had at first im- pelled the adventurers was overshadowed by the desire to return to country and friends; the ambition, indomitable will, and energy which had led them were gone. Their thought now was, in what manner they might escape from this wilderness and the perils which surrounded them, and end the fruitless toil which for three long years they had endured. De Soto's successor, Moscoso, was of the same mind as his followers, and desired to be in a country where he might enjoy rest. Ignorant of the geography of the country, the Spaniards sought at first to reach Mexico by land, and they again moved into the wilderness west of the Mississippi; but, under the lead of treacherous guides, they found themselves involved in difficulties more formidable than any they had yet experienced. Disheartened, they returned by a like difficult and exhausting march to the great river, with the purpose of following its course to the sea. Fatigue and climate continually reduced their num- bers, and many of the Indians whom they had enslaved and doomed to the severest labors died on the march. Once more on the banks of the Mississippi, they determined to construct vessels, and sailing with its cur- rent to the sea, attempt to reach New Spain. This was no easy task with the slender means they possessed, but it seemed now to be their only chance of escape, and they bravely went to work. With great difficulty they hewed the timber and sawed the planks; they gathered all the iron to be found in the camp, all useless arms and armor, and even the smallest scraps, and to add to the small supply struck off the fetters of their captives, and erecting a forge, converted it into nails. After months of -labor they constructed several small vessels, without decks and exceedingly frail, which were capable of bearing their di- 30 EXPEDITION OF DE SO TO. minished numbers. Then they killed their few remaining swine and their horses in order to provision their " ships," and with no little difficulty made casks capable of holding water. At last, more than a year after the death of De Soto, during which they had experienced greater hardships than in all the previous time, they embarked and sailed down the Missis- sippi to its mouth; thence following the coast, after a long and tedious voyage and much suffering, they reached a Spanish settlement in Mexico. They had landed in Florida more than six hundred strong, they returned to their countrymen with scarcely half that number, and the author, leader, and controlling spirit of the expedition, who was to them more than numbers, was among the lost. The story of De Soto's long and fruitless search, his melancholy death, and the utter failure of the expedition, of the success of which such extraordinary expectations had been indulged, put an end to Spanish hopes of rinding in Florida an empire which should surpass that of the Montezumas. The next attempt to secure the dominion of the country for the Spanish crown was the result of religious enthusiasm, and was an effort not to conquer, but to convert the natives. It met, however, with no better success than the previous expeditions, for the natives, remem- bering the former cruelties of the Spaniards visited upon these men who came with the olive-branch of peace a fearful retribution for the misdeeds of their countrymen. IV. HUGUENOT SETTLEMENT IN FLORIDA. : WENTY years after the failure of De Soto's expedition, the French, whose navigators had explored the coast of America from Florida to Newfoundland, undertook to assert their claims to a share in the newly-discov- ered continent; not, however, so much in the interest of the French crown, and to promote the glory of France, as to secure a refuge for French Protestants from the perse- cutions of the Catholics at home. Admiral De Coligny, an earnest Protestant, and a man of great influence, originated and cherished the idea of establishing such a refuge, and under his auspices an expedi- tion was fitted out for the purpose of planting a colony in Brazil. That attempt proving a failure, an expedition was subsequently sent under Ribaut, an experienced navigator, to examine the coast of Florida, and select a site for a Huguenot settlement. Reaching the River St. Johns, where he tarried for a time exploring the neighboring region, and hold- ing friendly intercourse with the Indians, Ribaut then sailed along the coast till he reached the spacious harbor which he named Port Royal, and which still bears that name, within the limits of what is now South Carolina. Delighted with the luxuriant vegetation of the country and its agreeable climate, and received with friendliness by the natives, the explorers determined to establish a settlement here, and a small garri- son was left to erect a fort and maintain the claim of the French to the country, while the ships returned to France for colonists and supplies. The garrison thus left was composed of soldiers and sailors with a 32 HUGUENOT SETTLEMENT IN FLORIDA. .-' few gentlemen volunteers, the whole numbering about thirty. Though the expedition had been fitted out for the purpose of finding a site for a colony which might be a refuge for persecuted Protestants, and the more prominent men were undoubtedly earnest and sincere Calvinists, the religious purpose of the expedition was of little account to most of the men composing the garrison. With all other Europeans, they believed the country was rich in the precious metals, and they had come across the sea, not to found a Protestant colony, but to find gold. But even this was a task for the future, and their present desire was to lead a free and easy life of adventure among the Indians. They visited all the neighboring tribes, and as from the first the French had always treated the natives well, they were received in a friendly manner, and feasted with all the bounty that an Indian village could afford. After this season of feasting they returned to the fort, where they soon were obliged to fast. They were entirely dependent for their food on the Indians, who supplied them liberally so long as their limited stores lasted. Having exhausted the supplies, and perhaps the patience, of the nearest tribes, they sought help from chiefs farther south, and obtained a liberal supply of maize and beans, with the assurance that they should not want so long as the corn- fields yielded their harvest. As the novelty of their adventures wore off, and they began to feel their helpless condition, discontent, insubordination, and quarrels ensued. The commander became arrogant, harsh, and cruel, and subjected some of those who opposed his will to the severest punishment, hanging one and banishing another to an island where he was left to starve. Such cruelty and constant tyranny could not be endured by the reck- less men who composed the garrison, and they murdered the com- mander, and chose another in his place. While the affairs of the fort now moved along more smoothly, discontent and homesickness were by no means diminished among this demoralized band. They were not settlers in this new land, but only sojourners, to hold possession until a permanent colony should arrive. Owing to the dissensions and civil war in France, Coligny found it impossible to send out the promised colonists. Delay seemed to them neglect, and they saw no way of escaping from their banishment but to build a vessel and embark for their native land. Under many difficulties they accomplished the task of constructing a ARRIVAL Of COLONISTS. 33 small vessel, and with the aid of the natives fitted it out. With scanty provisions they embarked, and gladly bade farewell to the country which had at first seemed to them a Paradise, and to the Indians who had proved such invaluable friends. But they fled to greater sufferings than they had endured on the land; their frail bark nearly foundered in a storm; their provisions gave out, and through all the terrors of famine they were at last reduced to cannibalism. The survivors succeeded, however, in crossing the Atlantic, and were finally rescued by an English vessel. Notwithstanding the failure of this attempt to found a colony, De Coligny did not abandon his cherished purpose, and he took advantage of a fitful peace between the rival factions in France to obtain from the king vessels and means for another expedition. As before, he intended to establish a Protestant colony, and to afford an opportunity to Huguenots to seek a home in the new world, where they might escape the turmoil of civil dissensions and the persecution of bigots. Though nominally all Huguenots, and some of them zealous Calvinists, the company gath- ered for this new expedition was composed, to a large extent, of men who cared little for its religious character, Huguenot gentlemen in search of adventure, paid soldiers whose faith was of little account, a few hired artisans, and traders who looked for chances of wealth in the land of gold. The commander of the expedition was Rene de Laudonniere, a man of noble family, an excellent sailor, and a pious Protestant. After a long voyage the three vessels composing the squadron arrived off the coast of Florida in June, 1564. The misfortunes of the former colonists, or garrison, induced the adventurers to seek some other harbor than that of Port Royal, and they therefore sailed for the River St. Johns, or River of May, as it was called by Ribaut, who had visited it before leav- ing the garrison at Port Royal, and had doubtless given a pleasant account of its shores upon his return to France. Landing near the mouth of the River, Laudonniere found the column of stone engraved with the arms of France which Ribaut had erected, and before which the Indians had heaped maize as an offering to an unknown god. Here he was met by the principal chief of that region with a large number of followers. The Indians welcomed the French with demonstrations of delight. They believed, as all the natives seem to have believed at the first appear- ance of white men, that the strangers were children of the sun, and it NO. i. 5 34 HUGUENOT SETTLEMENT IN FLORIDA. turned out that the gratification of the chief was in the belief that he would secure the aid of these children of the sun against his enemies. About five miles up the river, above a bluff which was the highest eminence in the region, the site of the new settlement was chosen. The magnificent vegetation of the surrounding country, the broad, calm river, whose unexplored course might lead to the marvellous cities of the west, the fruitful soil teeming with beautiful flowers, and giving promise of abundant harvests in the Indian fields, all seemed to combine to make this a most convenient as well as attractive spot for settlement. The work of fortifying "was at once commenced, and all, noble and peasant, soldier and artisan, joined heartily in the labor. The fort was triangular in form, and consisted of a palisade of timber on the river side, and a ditch and rampart of earth on the other two sides. Within these works buildings for the officers and men were erected, and on the ramparts cannon were mounted. Outside the defences also a few buildings were erected, and since the natives were friendly the protection of the fort did not seem essential. In honor of the king, Charles IX., the work was named Fort Carolina. The construction of this fort at once alarmed the natives, and while it was in progress they appeared in considerable numbers, and in a somewhat threatening manner. But a council followed, "with all the ceremonial used by the natives on such occasions. Communication between the French and the natives was carried on chiefly by signs, and in this way the cunning chief, by professions of friendship, and offer- ing supplies, obtained from Laudonniere a promise to aid him in a war against a neighboring tribe. This at once secured the greatest good will of the Indians, and by command of their chief they assisted in the construction of the houses, teaching the French how to thatch the roofs with palmetto leaves. The French commander did not fulfil his unwise promise, and thus incurred the displeasure and ill-will of a chief "whose friendship might have proved of great value at a later period. As soon as the fort was well under way, the French sought to ex- plore the interior of the country, expecting to discover rich treasures. One expedition went up the river under Ottigny, the second in com- mand, and these were the first white men to explore those waters, and note the luxuriant vegetation of their shores, and the varied animal life which everywhere abounded. SCENERT OF FLORIDA. 35 Among the adventurers was an artist, Le Moyne, who was sent with the expedition by Coligny, for the purpose of bringing back authentic pictures of the country and its various productions. In these explora- tions Le Moyne looked for something besides gold, and found ample employment for his pencil. The placid river, with its low, reedy islands bright with flowers, and shores here shaded by the varied foliage of the magnificent forest, and there stretching far away in green meadows dotted with groups of pine and palmetto; broad estuaries, seen through a vista in the overhanging branches; hummocks crowned with the magnolia and the live-oak, their branches draped with the long Spanish moss; swamps, whose borders were clothed with luxuriant vines and shrubs, and whose mysterious depths were shadowed with the darkness of night by the thick- growing cypress; the hideous alligator, basking in the sun by the reedy shore; the scarcely less hideous Indian, in his paint and feathers; the countless birds, with rich and brilliant plumage; flowers and foliage of rare and gorgeous beauty; all these scenes and objects, strange to the artist's eye, afforded subjects for many a picture. But it was fated that he should paint them only from memory. Ottigny reached the country of another Indian tribe, and opened a friendly intercourse with them, although they were enemies of the first allies of the French. The French believed that the gold regions lay in the direction of the later found tribe, and, desiring to learn more, another expedition was sent out under an officer named Vasseur, who penetrated to an Indian town, where he was received with great distinc- tion. The chief of this town informed him, by signs chiefly, that he was one of numerous vassals of the great chief Outina, whose warriors wore armor of gold and silver; that beyond Outina's nation were two mighty chiefs of the Appalachian Mountains, who abounded in gold; that if the French would join Outina in a war against these powerful en- emies, each one of that chief's vassals would bring to them a heap of gold and silver. The credulous French officer believed all that the native's pantomime and his own imagination suggested, and he forthwith prom- ised to join in the proposed war. Meanwhile, the chief with whom Laudonniere had first formed an alliance, prepared for war against his constant enemy, Outina, and asked the French for the promised aid. It was refused. The Indians, indig- 36 HUGUENOT SETTLEMENT IN FLORIDA. nant at this want of faith, with their barbarous ceremonies and war- dance prepared for a hostile expedition without the French. After their usual manner, they made a raid into Outina's realm, and brought back a number of prisoners and several scalps. Being desirous of keeping on friendly terms with Outina, through whose dominions he believed the way to the gold region lay, Laudonniere demanded the release of two of these captives, intending to return them to their tribe, and thus secure another hold upon the friendship of Outina. The demand was at first refused, but being peremptorily repeated, the chief at last yielded; but he never forgot the indignity put upon him, or the broken faith of the French. The captives were carried back to their country by a small party of French, who were received with demonstra- tions of gratitude and friendship, and were at once invited to join in a con- templated raid on a hostile tribe. In this raid an attack was made on an Indian town, when the French arquebuses produced a panic among the dusky warriors. One of the leading chiefs was killed by a shot, and the re- port seemed, to the simple savages, like thunder from the clouds. While they were thus terrified their native assailants made fearful work, and after butchering and burning to their satisfaction, they returned triumphant. But the French found themselves no nearer to the El Dorado. They had seen none of Outina's warriors in golden armor, nor had the heaps of precious metals, which his vassal chiefs were to bring in, as yet appeared. Laudonniere and a few of his principal officers, as well as some of those in humbler positions, were men of intelligence and worth, who had engaged in this enterprise with honorable and patriotic motives, and a purpose to carry out the views of Coligny. But in the company were not a few dissolute and reckless men, whose bad character was manifest as soon as they experienced disappointment, hardship, and want. The toils and perils of hopeful adventures could be endured without a mur- mur, but a dull, monotonous round of fruitless labor, and increasing privation, with a prospect only of suffering and famine, gave rise to discontent that soon ripened into mutiny. In the midst of the discontent, one of the adventurers claimed that he had discovered (by magic, which did not render it any the less credible) a mine of gold, far up the river, and which would make them all rich, but that the commandant DISCONTENT AND MUTINY. 37 stood in the way, oppressing and starving them. Thereupon a plot was formed to murder Laudonniere, and one of his intimate friends and con- fidants was concerned in it. Fortunately, the several plans which they conceived for effecting the murder, in some way miscarried, and the treacherous confidant fled to the woods. The next movement of a portion of the malcontents was to take two pinnaces and go on a piratical excursion, in which they were not successful; but being obliged to put into Havana to escape starvation, they gave information to the authorities of the existence of the French fort on the St. Johns, and the purpose of establishing there a Hugue- not colony. This information was promptly sent to Spain, where it was confirmed by secret messages from the Spanish faction at the French court, and created there a bigoted hostility, which resulted in the most atrocious deed in the history of the new world. These pirates did not take all the bad blood with them. Privations, enforced for the good of the garrison, grew more severe, and the dis- content greater. A more formidable plot was entered into, in which all but four of Laudonniere's officers joined against him. They de- manded permission to take the vessel, which had remained in the river since their first arrival, and cruise among the Antilles, to procure pro- visions. The commander refused this demand, but endeavored to en- courage the men, by assuring them that a more vigorous search should soon be made for the gold mines, and that the small vessels, then building, should be sent to procure provisions. The mutineers were not pacified by these promises, and while Laudonniere was confined to his bed by illness, they rose en masse, attempted to kill one of his faithful officers, confined the others, disarmed the loyal soldiers, and seizing the sick commander himself, carried him fettered out of the fort, and on board the vessel that lay in the river. Here, by threatening his life, they com- pelled him to sign a commission, drawn up by one of the mutineers, authorizing the piratical cruise. They then completed, armed, and provisioned as best they could, the two small vessels, and set sail on their buccaneering expedition. Their avowed purpose was to attack a certain Catholic church on one of the Spanish islands, and plunder it of its costly ornaments. They were Protestants, and they intended to make the attack during the midnight mass at Christmas, in order that 3 8 HUGUENOT SETTLEMENT IN FLORIDA. they might punish idolatry, and wreak vengeance on the enemies of their religion, while obtaining rich booty. After the departure of the mutineers, Laudonniere was released from his confinement on board ship, and returning to the fort, reorganized his diminished garrison with new and trusty officers in the place of those who had proved faithless. The mutineers had carried off provisions, but there were not so many to feed, and there were fewer discontented spirits to complain of being starved. Still, they were on short allowance, and were glad to barter with the Indians for food, and even to beg for or steal it. There were frequent expeditions into the interior, in order to obtain maize, and other food, such as the natives had in store; and, from the recklessness of the soldiers, these expeditions did much to alienate the Indians, upon whose good will they were, in a measure, dependent. The winter passed without any incidents of much moment, after the buccaneers had sailed, till, three months later, a remnant of them re- turned. Towards the end of March a Spanish brigantine was seen, anchored at the mouth of the river. In one of the small vessels which had been built to replace those carried off by the mutineers, an armed force was sent down to see what were the character and purpose of the stranger. They found the vessel was evidently piratical, and suddenly boarding her, they captured the half-drunken crew, who proved to be their own mutinous countrymen. The pirates had at first been suc- cessful, but while they were rejoicing over their greatest prize, they were attacked by some Spanish ships, the prize was retaken, with many of their own men, and the brigantine with the survivors had a narrow escape. The pilot who had been forced to join them was anx- ious to return to the fort, and he had steered the bark to the coast of Florida without the knowledge of the pirates, who were thus brought back to their deserts for mutiny as well as piracy. The Spaniards, without doubt, would have killed them all, either as pirates or her- etics. The French, less vindictive, and in this case with no bigotry to satisfy, condemned only the leaders to death. In the spring one more attempt was made to reach the imaginary gold country, under the assurance of Outina that if he could have the aid of a few of the French arquebusiers he would open a way to that INDIAN TREACHERT. 39 long-desired region. The French soldiers were furnished under the command of Ottigny, and with their aid the wily savage made an at- tack upon his inveterate enemy. As usual, the fire-arms carried death to some and panic to the rest, and a savage slaughter followed. But the victory did not open the way to the gold mines. The Indians returned to their own towns with many scalps, and the French to their fort with another disappointment. Outina, on whose account the French had forfeited the friendship of the tribes who were their nearest neighbors, was ungrateful as well as deceitful. As time passed, and the expected supplies from France did not arrive, the wants of the garrison became more and more press- ing. The neighboring tribes had parted with all the corn they could spare, or, because of their robbery by the reckless soldiers, refused to furnish more. Reduced to such a strait, the colonists applied to Ou- tina, whom they had twice aided against his enemies, but they received only a scanty supply, and were invited to join him in war against one of his own rebellious chiefs, whose country, he said, would afford an abundant reward. The French accepted the invitation, but they were grossly deceived, and not only found no granaries to plunder, but were sent back half starved. This conduct on the part of the chief whose battles they had fought and given him the victory, exasperated the suffering garrison. They demanded that an expedition should be sent to take him prisoner, and force him to furnish supplies. There was nothing else to be done, and a sufficient force, commanded by Laudonniere himself, went to accomplish this object. Outina was captured in his lodge, and carried, amid the howlings of women and the threats of men, to the boat, where he was held captive, and a supply of maize and beans demanded as his ransom. But the ransom was not forthcoming, and after waiting two days in vain, the French returned to the fort again with their captive. The Indian chief had probably expected death, but he was well treated, and on being assured that he would be released if the ransom was paid, he made the most liberal promises, which his captors were anxious to realize. He was accordingly carried back to his chief town, accompanied by a strong body of soldiers, who were to receive the ransom. It was prom- ised as soon as the captive should be released; but the savages would 4 HUGUENOT SETTLEMENT IN FLORIDA. bring nothing in advance, for they believed that the French, according to savage custom, would take the ransom and kill the captive. Outina was then released, but instead of a prompt payment of the ransom there were signs of hostile movements on every side. Armed warriors were assembling, and malignant faces were scowling on the intruders with deadly hatred, the terrible arquebuses alone keeping them from instant attack. Alarmed at the aspect of affairs, the officers complained to Outina that the ransom was not promptly paid. The chief, who sat apart, appar- ently at a discount since his captivity, replied that he could not control his people, and warned the French that they were in danger. Ottigny, who was in command, determined therefore to return to the boats at once with what corn had been brought them. They had passed but a short distance beyond the palisade that surrounded the town, when, with a fearful yell, the savages made an attack with their arrows. The French, with their arquebuses, drove them back; but again and again, as they marched towards the river, the attack was renewed, hundreds of painted warriors having gathered along the way, determined to destroy the hand- ful of intruders. The handful of intruders, however, with their armor and their fire-arms, were more than a match for the savage horde, many of whom fell under the fire of the arquebusiers. All day the march and fight continued, till the boats were finally reached, with the loss of two soldiers killed and many painfully wounded with the barbed arrows. And all the ransom they secured was two small sacks of corn. The spring (1565) had now gone by, and yet the hoped-for supplies from France did not come. The condition of the garrison was getting desperate, and suffering from heat, disease, and hunger made it daily weaker and more dispirited. They were at the mercy of the Indians, for they still obtained from them small stores of food, and fortunately the tribes round them were not so vindictive and savage as the subjects of the chief, Outina, though they now brought the colonists no free gifts, and demanded exorbitant prices in barter for their smallest supplies. De- spairing of aid from France, though Laudonniere still hoped, the colonists determined to abandon the fort, and sail for home in the one small vessel which had remained with them and the Spanish brigantine brought in by the mutineers. The chief, and indeed the insuperable, obstacle to carrying out this purpose, was the want of provisions for the voyage. ARRIVAL Of SUPPLIES. 4 ! While they were vainly devising means to secure the needed supplies, a squadron arrived off the mouth of the river, causing the greatest excitement. It was not, however, the hoped-for fleet from France, but the ships of Sir John Hawkins, the English slave-trader, who had just disposed, in the West Indies, of a large number of negro slaves whom he had brought from Africa. In striking contrast with the cruelty with which he had kidnapped the Africans, Hawkins showed the greatest generosity to the French. He supplied them with provisions, and offered to carry them all to France. This offer was declined by Laudonniere, and the Englishman, condemning the frail craft in which the French proposed to sail, offered to sell one of his smaller vessels, and take in payment the cannon and other articles which would be abandoned with the fort. Urged by the garrison, who threatened otherwise to desert him, the commandant assented, and the vessel was transferred to the French, and duly provisioned for the voyage. Hawkins, having completed his generous service, set sail, leaving the French, now happy with the hope of soon seeing their native land, to make some further preparations. These were not yet completed, when another fleet appeared at the mouth of the river, producing a new excite- ment. This time it was the long-expected supplies and re-enforcements, a fleet, bringing abundant stores of food and a large number of emigrants, under the command of Ribaut, who had brought the first colonists to Port Royal, and who now came to establish in fact the per- manent settlement which De Coligny had so long contemplated. NO. n. 6 V. THE HUGUENOT COLONY. -- MASSACRE BY THE SPANIARDS. -3*!- jHE arrival of Ribaut put an end to all thought of returning, on the part of the despairing garrison, and their despondency was turned to joy. The new col- onists had brought with them their " household gods," their families of women and children, and all their social and home associations. They had brought th,eir Protestant religion to a land where they might be free from the persecutions of the Catholic church. They had brought agricultural implements and seeds for the cultivation of the generous soil, and various means of industry to supply the neces- saries and comforts of life. The country, with all its natural attractions, took on a new aspect with the advent of such a company; its genial climate seemed specially adapted to the genial temperament of the set- tlers, whose character not even the austere religion of Calvin could render morose or joyless. Alas for human hopes ! Their dream of security was doomed to an early and fearful disappointment. The new colonists had scarcely dis- embarked and trodden the soil of their new home, when a Spanish fleet appeared off the mouth of the St. Johns, where the French vessels were at anchor. . When the French demanded who the strangers were, and their errand, the Spanish commander replied, " I am Pedro Menendez, sent from Spain, with orders from my king to gibbet or put to the sword all the Protestants in these regions. The Frenchman who is a 42 A SPANISH ENEMT. 43 Catholic I will spare, but every heretic shall die! " This fierce reply alarmed the French, though they at first shouted back defiance. They were then unprepared to contend against such a force, and when the Spaniards bore down upon them, they cut their cables and put to sea. The Spanish fleet gave chase, but unable to overtake the fugitives, sailed again to the south, and the French returned to their roadstead. This unexpected appearance of an enemy, whose nationality and religious bigotry betokened a terrible warfare, caused the greatest con- sternation among the French colonists. Those upon whom their defence devolved were divided in opinion as to the best course to pursue. Some were in favor of strengthening the fortifications, and awaiting an attack by the Spaniards, but others advised that the French fleet should sail in pursuit of the enemy and attack him on the sea. Among the latter was the commander, Ribaut, and he adopted this course. But just as he discovered the position of the Spanish fleet, a fearful storm arose, and continued many days, with unabated fury, till all his ships were wrecked upon the sand-bars and reefs that stretch along the Florida coast, though most of the men escaped with their lives. The Spanish fleet was anchored in the harbor of St. Augustine, and also suffered serious damage. This, and the long continuance of the storm, induced Mencndez, who was impatient to do the bloody work which bigotry and national hatred imposed upon him, to march against the French settlement, which he knew must now be left in a defence- less condition; for the French vessels had been seen as they were driven along the coast. Learning from the Indians the situation of the settle- ment, in spite of the continued storm, he marched, with great difficulty, through the intervening forest and swamps, and one morning, before daylight, reached the neighborhood of the fort. Ribaut had taken with him all the soldiers he had brought to re-en- force the fort, but had left the women and children and non-combatant camp-followers. The garrison was, therefore, as the Spaniards thought, in a truly defenceless condition. The fort itself had several breaches, and the cannon given to Sir John Hawkins had not been replaced. With such soldiers and able-bodied men as he had, Laudonniere en- deavored to put the works in a condition for defence, but the heavy rains seriously impeded their labors. While the storm continued they 44 MASSACRE BY THE SPANIARDS. did not anticipate any attack, for they believed that the Spaniards could come only by sea, and the storm would prevent such an attempt. The night that Menendez reached the St. Johns, the French sentinels had been withdrawn, on account of the storm. They were worn down by their long privation and their recent toils, and the officer in command had pity on their miserable condition, believing there was no occasion for their exposure. Meanwhile, the Spaniards, too, were disheartened by the long and toilsome march, in drenching rain, through endless swamps; their pro- visions were exhausted, their ammunition wet, and they were ready to mutiny, when at last, one morning, soon after daybreak, they reached the vicinity of the fort. Menendez then aroused them by an appeal to their religious zeal, and the whole force advanced silently, regardless of storm and all obstacles, till they reached a position from which the assault could be made. Then, with a shout, they rushed forward, and just then they were discovered by a French soldier, who gave the alarm. But it was too late; the garrison could offer no resistance, and the Spaniards soon gained an entrance to the fort through a breach in the palisade. Then commenced a massacre such as only the religious intolerance of a cruel age and a vindictive race could prompt. Armed and unarmed, sick and wounded, men, women, and children, hurrying from their beds at the alarm, were slaughtered with a ferocity worthy only of savages. A few escaped by flying to the woods, among them Laudonniere, the commander, after a vain attempt to resist the assailants, and Le Moyne, the artist. Some of the women and infants, when the fury of the Span- iards was in some degree appeased, were spared, but only for captivity and the tender mercies of the Inquisition. A hundred and fifty of the inmates of the fort, many of them helpless women and children, were killed; and not content with the slaughter of the weak and defenceless, the vindictive murderers treated the corpses of the slain with shocking barbarity. And all this was done in the name of the Christian religion! On the spot where the carnage was greatest the Spaniards reared a cross and said mass, to commemorate their bloody work and to dedicate the ground as the site of a church. The murderous work did not end with the death of those in the fort. MASSACRE OF THE HUGUENOTS AT FORT CAROLINA. SPANISH TREACHERT. 45 Some of the men who escaped to the woods, driven by want, appealed to the mercy of the Spaniards, and gave themselves up; but the mercy they met with was a speedy and cruel death. Those who knew the treach- ery and ferocity of the Spanish Catholics preferred to trust to some providential escape; and after severe sufferings they succeeded in getting on board two small French vessels which had remained in the roadstead when the fleet sailed. Among those thus rescued were Laudonniere and Le Moyne. The shipwrecked mariners and soldiers of the French fleet for the most part experienced a like fate with that of their countrymen at the fort. They had escaped death in the sea, but they were exposed on the bare reefs and sandy shores, without food or fresh water to sustain them, or arms to defend themselves. In their half-famished and help- less condition one party of about two hundred was discovered by the Indians, who informed the Spaniards of their position. Menendez, who had returned to St. Augustine, immediately proceeded with a body of soldiers to the place where they were, and demanded their surrender. Well might they hesitate to give themselves up to an enemy whose reli- gious and national hatred they had reason to fear. But Menendez assured them of his compassion, and bade them rely upon his honor, saying he " would act towards them as God should give him grace." After some parleying, the French agreed to surrender, and they were brought across the narrow inlet which divided the two parties, in small detachments, by means of a canoe. As each detachment of prisoners landed, with a treachery equalled only by their atrocity, the Spaniards led them back from the shore, and bound their hands behind them. When all were thus secured, they were driven, with cruel goadings, towards St. Augus- tine, until they reached a spot designated by Menendez, when their cap- tors fell upon them and massacred them with the same ferocity, rendered more hateful by treachery, which had been manifested at Fort Carolina. And Menendez gloried in the bloody deed as one by which he served God and his king. The corpses of these murdered Frenchmen were hardly cold, when the Indians informed the Spaniards that a much larger body of the ship- wrecked men were at the same inlet where the first party had been found. Again Menendez, with a strong force, proceeded to the place signalized 4 6 MASSACRE BT THE SPANIARDS. by his treachery. The French now here numbered three hundred and fifty, and were under the command of Ribaut himself. Another parley ensued. Ribaut urged that the French and Spanish monarchs were friends, and begged that Menendez would aid him in sending his men home. The treacherous Spaniard expressed himself as before, leading the Frenchman to believe that he would act mercifully. Ribaut offered a ransom of a hundred thousand ducats for his men who should surrender; to which Menendez replied, " It would grieve me not to accept it, for I have great need of it." This answer seemed to satisfy Ribaut; but two hundred of his men refused to surrender, and retreated to the south, pre- ferring to risk the danger of famine, and murder by the Indians, rather than trust themselves to the mercy of the Spaniards. The remainder surren- dered. They were transported across the inlet in the same manner as their predecessors; in the same manner they were treacherously bound and cruelly murdered. Four or five only escaped death to be held in captivity. Those who had refused to surrender were subsequently cap- tured, but their lives were spared. Such was the fate of the French Huguenots who attempted to estab- lish the first permanent colony within the territory now comprised in the United States. The fierce Menendez, fit instrument of a bigoted king and a vindictive priesthood, had wiped it out in blood; boasting that by his wholesale slaughter he had served God and his Catholic Majesty, and proclaiming to the world that he had murdered these men, " not as Frenchmen, but as Lutherans." For this treacherous and cruel work he received the warm approval of the king and the blessing of the church. But a day of retribution came. When the news of the massacre of the colonists and soldiers reached France, it aroused the indignation of all classes except the zealous Catho- lics. But Frenchmen, who demanded redress for the outrage on their nationality, and Huguenots, who begged that the murder of their brethren should be punished, appealed alike in vain to the weak and vacillating king. Spanish influence was dominant at the French court, and Catholic bigotry was preparing the way for a more terrible massacre in a French province. It was left, therefore, for private enterprise and private ven- geance to vindicate the national honor and to avenge the atrocities of Spanish bigotry. A HUGUENOT'S REVENGE. 47 Dominique de Gourgues, a soldier of distinction and of noble birth, had suffered grievous wrongs at the hands of the Spaniards during a long captivity, when he was chained to the oar as a galley-slave, and he longed for an opportunity to retaliate for the outrages that had been heaped upon him. When he heard of the massacre of his countrymen in Florida, his long-nursed hatred of the Spaniards burned with a fiercer flame, and he determined to avenge his own wrongs as well as the cruel murder of his Protestant brethren. He disposed of his property, and, with the aid of his friends, fitted out three small vessels, in which he embarked with a hundred and fifty men, mostly Huguenots, who were best fitted for the work he had in view. After a long and perilous voyage he reached the West Indies, where he first divulged his purpose, and by eloquent appeals infused some- thing of his own spirit of revenge into his followers. They were eager to join in the dangerous enterprise, and the ships were steered to the coast of Florida. Landing some leagues north of the St. Johns River, they were met by the Indians of the tribes who had first welcomed the former French colonists, and who, having already experienced the cruelty and arrogance of the Spaniards, were glad to welcome again, the countrymen of their former neighbors. An alliance was readily entered into, and a body of Indian warriors agreed to join in an attack on the Spaniards. After the destruction of the French colony, the Spaniards garrisoned Fort Carolina and constructed two other forts nearer the mouth of the river. On the latter the attack was to be made, the French sailing in their ships to an appointed rendezvous, and the Indians moving through the forest. After the French soldiers landed, there was yet a difficult and weary march before they could reach the forts. But under the lead of the fiery Gourgues and the guidance of the Indians they toiled through swamps and across inlets till they arrived near the Span- ish position. Then an attack was made on the nearest fort by the French on one side and the Indians on the other. The Spaniards were taken by surprise, and offered but a feeble resistance. Attempting to escape, they were cut off by a detachment of the French, and every man perished, or was captured and reserved for further punishment. The other fort was on the opposite shore, and its garrison briskly can- 4 8 A HUGUENOT'S REVENGE. nonaded the assailants, and were cannonaded in return by the captured guns. The first garrison disposed of, the French crossed in their boats, which had now arrived, and the Indians swam the river. Alarmed at the numbers of their enemy, who swarmed- out of the woods and ad- vanced through the water with fearful yells, the Spaniards rushed out of the fort only to find the French, who had already landed, confront- ing them. The savages followed in their rear, and between the war- clubs and spears on the one hand, and the arquebuses on the other, their doom was soon sealed. Fort Carolina, called by Spaniards San Mateo, still remained. It was some distance above those already captured, and a day or two intervened before Gourgues advanced against it. While the French and their Indian allies were concealed in the woods, preparing for the assault, a Spanish detachment sallied from the fort to reconnoitre, and was cut off by the French and destroyed. Their comrades in the fort, learning the disaster, sought safety by abandoning their works and fly- ing to the woods on the side farthest from the French. But here they met their savage foe, who in great numbers assailed them with war- club and spear, and not one escaped. Entering the fort, Gourgues dis- posed of the few Spaniards who had as yet escaped death by hanging them to the trees where they had hung the French; and over them he placed a board inscribed, " I have done this not as to Spaniards and Mariners, but as to Traitors, Robbers, and Murderers." Having destroyed the forts, Gourgues, with a piety that ill com- ported with the bloody work in which he had been engaged, gave thanks to God for his victory, and returned to his ships. The Indians were greatly disappointed when he prepared to sail, but his mission was accomplished. He had come to destroy, not to plant a new col- ony, and with thanks and gifts he bade his savage allies adieu, and sailed for France. His exploit was applauded by those of his coun- trymen whose nationality was not extinguished by their bigotry; but he was denounced by the extreme Catholics who surrounded the throne, and was obliged for a time to seek safety in exile.* * In Parkman's " Pioneers of France in the New World " is a most interesting and graphic account of the French colony on the St. Johns, its destruction, and the retribution which followed, and to it the writer is indebted for the facts narrated above. VI. SPANISH SETTLEMENT AT ST. AUGUSTINE. WENTY years after the utter failure of De Soto's ex- pedition was known in Spain, the Spaniards made another and more successful attempt to colonize and hold Florida. It was hastened, if not prompted, by in- formation received by the government that the French Huguenots had made a settlement within what was claimed as the dominion of Spain. Philip II. was a big- oted Catholic as well as a bitter enemy of France. To destroy the colony of heretics and Frenchmen, and to secure Florida to Spain and the church, was a religious duty. Don Pedro Menendez de.Aviles, who had been thoroughly trained in the cruel warfare of that age, who had manifested his intolerance in the Netherlands, and his unscrupu- lous ability in New Spain, was selected to perform that duty. He was appointed hereditary governor of Florida, which included a territory of indefinite extent, and of which he was to complete the conquest within three years. He was required to plant a colony there composed in part of married men, with such number of priests, including Jesuits, as should satisfy the bigotry of the king and his priestly advisers. And he was also required to exterminate the French heretics who had sought a refuge there. This, indeed, became the first, and apparently the most important, object of the expedition. In return for such ser- vice he was granted princely emoluments and privileges. The expedition was fitted out on the most extensive scale, exceed- ing all previous enterprises of the kind. It comprised thirty-four ves- sels and twenty-six hundred persons, and was supplied with everything NO. n. 7 49 5 o SPANISH SETTLEMENT AT ST. AUGUSTINE. necessary for the establishment of a colony families of emigrants anxious to make a home in a new country, the luxuriance and beaut}' of which had been painted in glowing colors, monks and priests who should plant the cross there, and soldiers who should defend it, and destroy all heretics, domestic animals, agricultural and mechanical implements, and whatever else the necessities of the settlers or the object of the expedition required. Information having been received in Spain that a French fleet, un- der Ribaut, had sailed for Florida, Menendez hastened his departure, and sailed with only a portion of his fleet, leaving the smaller vessels to follow. The voyage was boisterous, and the fleet was separated. Reaching the West Indies, Menendez, after waiting a short time for the arrival of all his ships, became impatient to carry out his enter- prise, and proceeded to Florida before they all joined him. Sailing along the coast in search alike of the Huguenot settlement and a favor- able place to plant his own colony, he discovered a harbor which by its beauty and fine situation invited him to enter. lie tarried, how- ever, only long enough to note the advantages it offered, and to learn from the Indians the position of the French. He then sailed north to the St. Johns River, where he found Ribaut's French fleet, and sent to the " heretics " the intolerant threat which has been mentioned on a previous page. Failing to overtake the French fleet when it put to sea, he returned to the harbor where he had previously anchored. Here he determined to establish his colony, and in honor of the saint on whose day he had first sighted the land granted to him for" conquest, he named the place St. Augustine. The harbor, which was capable of affording a haven for most of the Spanish ships of that time, though accessible only to the smaller craft of the present day, was sep- arated from the ocean by a narrow island, afterwards named Anastasia. On the west, two rivers flowed into it, forming a peninsula, which was selected as the site of the settlement. Experience proved that the place was well chosen, though more by chance than wisdom. Being sur- rounded by salt marshes and tidal water, it was free from the miasma of the swamps which rendered the interior so fatal. The sea breezes tempered the tropical heat of summer, and the winters were mild and pleasant. It was, moreover, easily protected from the attacks of hostile LANDING OF THE COLONT. 5I Indians on the landward side, and capable of defence against the fleets of enemies approaching from the sea. It was on the 8th of September (1565), the festival of the Virgin Mary, that Menendez landed and took formal possession of the country in the name of the Spanish monarch. The proceedings were conducted with all the pomp of military display and religious ceremonials. Soldiers, priests, and colonists debarked; the royal banner was unfurled, and beside it the banner of the church; a solemn procession moved over the soil hitherto trodden only by a few savages; high mass was performed, the ground was duly consecrated, and the land was claimed for the dominion not only of Spain, but of the Roman church. A site was selected for a church and another for a fort, and after ample reservations for the gov- ernor and his officers, the humbler colonists, who were neither priests nor soldiers, were allowed no very liberal extent of ground on which to erect their dwellings. Such was the founding of St. Augustine, the first settle- ment of Europeans which proved a permanent one within the territory now composing the United States, though Santa Fe was settled at about the same time by an expedition moving north from Mexico. The work of landing the emigrants, the domestic animals, and the various supplies, and of erecting temporary shelter, was hardly completed when a severe storm arose, and continued many days. Many of the Spanish vessels suffered great damage, though, sheltered in the harbor, they escaped the disaster which befell the French fleet. Menendez, never forgetful of his promise to his bigoted king, and surrounded by "priests who would not permit him to forget, even if his intolerant spirit had not urged him to cruel action, made it his first purpose to destroy the Huguenot colony. Knowing that the French ships had put to sea, and were scattered, if not wrecked, by the storm, and that the settlers would be left in a more defenceless condition, while the storm yet prevailed he marched, under the guidance of Indians, through forest and swamp, to the River St. Johns. The atrocity with \vhich he executed his mission has been narrated in a preceding page. After it was perpetrated, leaving a sufficient number of his men to hold the position, and prevent re-occu- pation by the French, he returned to St. Augustine, and soon after crowned his bloody exploits and his treachery by murdering the ship- wrecked French mariners. 52 SPANISH SETTLEMENT AT ST. AUGUSTINE. But Menendez was able as well as cruel, and under his direction, after the arrival of the remainder of his expedition, the settlement soon assumed form and permanence. In a few years it possessed all the characteristics of a Spanish village transplanted to the new world. It was protected on the landward side by a palisade in lieu of wall. It had its fortress, its church, and its monastery, and its humbler dwellings ranged around the plaza in which grew the palmetto and magnolia. Soldiers and priests were numerous. The people, naturally indolent, imposed their burdens on negro slaves; and even these were not encour- aged to industry by the strict observance of all the festivals of the Roman calendar. The genial climate and fruitful soil made the life of the settlers an easy one, so long as they offended neither priests nor soldiers. By the door of the low palmetto-thatched cottage the Spanish maiden plaited strands of the palmetto or the tough grass of the meadows, while at her feet a youth thrummed the guitar and sang the love-songs of their native land. Haply a soldier, wandering from the fort, would make bolder love to the maiden, and treat with unreserved insolence the favored lover. After vespers, as the sun sank behind the western forest, all the settlers, old and young, would gather in the plaza of the little village, and join in the graceful Spanish dance, or talk of by-gone pleasures in Old Spain, which they would fain renew in this strange land. The sable African, torn from his native land, and not yet possessing the childish gayety of succeeding generations, looked on in sullen wonder. The gray Franciscan friar came forth from the humble monastery to gaze upon the scene, and the black-robed Jesuit smiled upon the merry-making if the dancers but faithfully attended mass, and did not neglect the confessional. Unlike the later colonists in other parts of the country, they were not exposed to hostile incursions of Indians, nor subjected to severe privations and hardships. The most they had to fear were the arrogance of the soldiers and the inquisitorial powers of the church. The settlement was the offspring of bigotry, and over it bigotry ruled supreme. Soon after the settlement of St. Augustine, the foundations were laid for the remarkable fortress, known as St. Marks, which was more than three quarters of a century in building, and which still stands a pictu- resque memorial of a past age, such as is found in no other part of the country. It was built from coquina, a conglomerate of shells and sand, CASTLE OF ST. MARKS. e, quarried on the Island of Anastasia. In its external appearance it has all the characteristics of a castle of the middle ages, and in its interior are found not only ample quarters for its garrison, massive casemates, and an elaborately finished chapel, but dark and mysterious passages and dungeons, of which the fearful use has been revealed by the discovery in them of skeletons, whose crumbling bones were still encircled by fetters, and bound with rusty chains to massive ring-bolts. Other skeletons have also been discovered sealed up with solid masonry within its walls. When these victims of a cruel power were consigned to their fearful death cannot be known, but, from the first, cruelty was the characteristic of the military rulers, and religious intolerance inspired its indulgence. The evil practices of Spain were readily transplanted to the new world. It is said that between the fortress and the monastery was a subterranean passage, and possibly along this gloomy way more than one unfortunate heretic was conducted from the chamber of the Inquisition to a dungeon of which the door never again opened for him. But whether the suffer- ers were heretics, political offenders, criminals, or the victims of private vengeance, they probably met their doom in the early period of the history of St. Augustine, when the successors of Menendez inherited his cruelty, and religion encouraged its exercise. It was many years, however, before the Castle of St. Marks attained anything like its complete proportions. At first, a less ambitious struc- ture served for defence, and gradually forts were constructed at other points on the coast, designed more to resist the foreign invader than for protection against the Indians. The ships of France, England, and the buccaneers were more feared than the savages from the swamps and forests of the interior. But it was not till twenty years after the settlement of St. Augus- tine that it was visited by a foreign foe. In the mean time, it had be- come a comparatively well-built town, with a few substantial buildings. Gardens in which the orange and fig trees flourished were cultivated, and the village had a pleasant aspect, with its semi-tropical vegetation. The colonists, a portion of whom had grown up from childhood here, had long since ceased to sigh for the scenes of Old Spain, and had become attached to their homes, which, if less substantial than those they had left in their native land, were, perhaps, quite as comfortable and pleas- 54 SPANISH SETTLEMENT AT ST. AUGUSTINE. ant. Life passed very much as in a village of Castile, where, in peaceful times, monk, soldier, and peasant droned away the noontide in undis- turbed indolence. From such quiet the settlement was one day startled, in 1586, by the appearance of a number of ships bearing the English flag. Though Spain and England were then at war, the colonists at St. Augustine little dreamed that in their remote quarter of the world the enemy w r ould seek them out, and they were not prepared for the visitation. The fierce Menendez was no longer in the colony, there were no ships capable of meeting the enemy, and the commander of the garrison, fearful that he could not successfully resist an attack, de- termined to abandon the fort. The alarm spread quickly through the settlement, and, in their terror, the inhabitants at once prepared to aban- don their homes. Soldiers, priests, villagers, and slaves, men, women, and children, seizing whatever of food was at hand, moved with all haste through the gateway of the palisade, and toiled through the swamps to the forts on the St. Johns. It was a fearful journey for many of them, but they believed that death was behind, and safety only before. The cause of this alarm was the squadron of Sir Francis Drake, who had been capturing Spanish ships, and attacking and destroying various Spanish forts and settlements in the West Indies, and who de- termined, before returning to England, to add one more to his list of achievements. He had suffered heavy loss, on one of his early trading voyages, at the hands of the Spaniards, who had attacked the ships of Sir John Hawkins, one of which Drake commanded, and destroyed nearly all of them. Failing to obtain indemnity from Spain, he vowed that he would avenge his wrongs and make good his losses by warfare on his own account. He had, on former expeditions, made good his threat by attacking and plundering various Spanish settlements in South America, and capturing richly laden ships. The rupture between Spain and England now afforded him a new opportunity to gratify his hostility to the Spaniards, and he promptly improved it. Entering the harbor of St. Augustine, no cannon replied to his, and Drake soon discovered that the fort and hamlet were deserted. He accordingly landed a sufficient force, and having plundered the fort, church, and monastery of all that was valuable, he set fire to them, and to the humbler dwellings of the colonists, and then withdrew. To this THE TOWN REBUILT. S5 extent, though happily free from bloodshed, did retribution come upon St. Augustine, whose settlement was the offspring of intolerance, and was celebrated by a more fearful and bloody destruction of the Hugue- not settlement on the St. Johns. When the fugitive Spaniards were assured that their enemy had de- parted, they returned to St. Augustine, to find their homes in ashes, their church despoiled and burned, and their defences destroyed. Then came longings for their old home, in the interior of Spain, where there was no fear of hostile fleets. But for the honor of Spain the garrison must remain; the younger colonists remembered no other homes, and it was impossible to return impoverished to their native country. Noth- ing remained, therefore, but to rebuild the fort, church, and dwellings, and the work was speedily commenced. They now experienced more of privation and hardship than had yet befallen them, though the genial climate caused no real suffering, and supplies from Cuba prevented want. The rebuilt town grew slowly, but was undisturbed by foreign foes until a century after its settlement. The monastery, at least, flour- ished, and a large number of monks and priests made St. Augustine a rigid Catholic town. Spain had always aimed at conquest in the new world. Her expe- ditions were always military or naval ones, and colonies were to follow conquest. Menendez had come, like his predecessors, to conquer Flor- ida; but he found that the scattered Indian tribes afforded no opportu- nity for such conquest as he contemplated, and that the mineral wealth of the country was a myth. He planted the colony at St. Augustine, and built a few forts, but he accomplished nothing more. He did not realize the wealth he anticipated, either from mines or the fruitful soil; on the contrary, he had exhausted his means in fitting out his expedi- tion, lie had gratified his intolerant spirit and his hatred of the French, and that compensated in some degree for his other disappointments; but after a few years he returned to Spain impoverished. He was not dishonored, however, for the bigoted Philip II., rejoicing in the murder of the French heretics, and in the establishment of a Catholic colony in Florida, did not demand the fulfilment of other promises, but ap- plauded his cruelty, and conferred new honors upon him. VII. THE FRENCH ON THE ST. LAWRENCE. ROBERVAL AND MARGUERITE. the French failed to establish a colony in 1 Florida, they were more successful in a higher latitude. '> Their hardy Breton and Basque fishermen were among the first to pursue the cod on the banks of Newfound- land, and their daring mariners early explored the north- I ern shores of the continent, bent upon finding a northern passage to the Indies. Verrazzano, an Italian, but sailing under the French flag, in 1524 sailed along the coast from North Car- olina to Newfoundland; Cartier, in 1535, sailed up the St. Lawrence as far as Montreal, and built a fort on the banks of the St. Charles, where with his followers he passed the winter. He came, however, more to explore than to plant a colony, and after one winter, during which his men suffered fearfully from the scurvy, and many of them died, he returned to France, carrying with him a number of natives, whom he treacherously induced to go on board his ships. But the report which Cartier carried to France led to another expedition, the objects of which were discovery, settlement, and the conversion of the natives. This, also, was under the command of Cartier, who was to be joined by a nobleman named Roberval, commissioned as viceroy of New France, as all the northern part of the continent was called. Cartier again sailed up the St. Lawrence (in 1541), built two forts, and planted some small patches of ground. But when another miserable win- ter had been passed, the motley crew of colonists, many of whom were the released convicts of prisons, became mutinous, and Cartier abandoned 56 FAILURE OF ROBERVAL' S ENTERPRISE. 57 the forts, and again set sail for France, carrying some quartz crystals which he thought were diamonds, and some yellow mica which he thought was gold. While lying at St. John, Roberval arrived with three ships and two hundred colonists, who were to join the pioneers of the expedition on the St. Lawrence. Astonished and indignant to find that Cartier had abandoned the object of the expedition fitted out at so great expense, Roberval ordered him to return to the St. Lawrence; but, dis- gusted with the country and the prospect, he refused, and in the night sailed away for France. Roberval continued his voyage, and, sailing up the St. Lawrence, landed his colony at the place where Cartier first constructed a fort. Here it was determined to make a settlement, and the men were set at work to erect a huge structure which should afford ample accom- modation for the two hundred colonists, and at the same time should be a work of defence against any hostile natives. It was a motley community, composed of nobles and gentlemen, soldiers and artisans, and not a few convicts, besides women and children; and all these were housed in one great castle built of timber and divided into vari- ous apartments designed to meet all the wants of such an assemblage. But though the colonists had shelter, and ample store-rooms, and mills for grinding corn, they were but poorly supplied with provisions. The long, cold winter came, and with it came famine. The colony was reduced to extremity, half starving on the fish they could buy of the Indians, and the roots which they dug in the forest. Sickness and death followed, and before the winter had passed, one third of their number were dead. Roberval ruled with an iron hand, and punished with the greatest severity anything like mutiny or rebellion. The lash was fre- quently used, and the gallows had its victims; men, and even women, were shot, and some unfortunates were bound and left upon an island .to starve. Under such circumstances, and such despotic rule, no com- munity could long survive, and this attempt at settlement failed more disastrously than that of Cartier. An instance of the stern cruelty of Roberval is said to have oc- curred on the voyage to the St. Lawrence. Among the company on board his ship was his niece, a young woman named Marguerite, whose personal attractions had won the heart of a young gentleman who left NO. II. 8 58 ROBERVAL AND MARGUERITE. France in the same ship for love of her. The affection was mutual, and as they took no pains to conceal it, Roberval was greatly incensed, and determined to punish his niece for the offence. North of New- foundland was an island reputed among the sailors of that superstitious age, as well as the Indians, to be inhabited by demons. Whether it was the roar of the winds through the cedars, the mysterious moaning of the sea, the howl of wild beasts, or the clamor of sea- fowl, a fear- ful din was said to be ever heard over the island, and was attributed to the infernal orgies of raging demons. The fishermen carefully avoided these fearful shores, lest they should fall into the clutches of the devils, whom some of them professed to have seen in all their hid- eous proportions. Off" the shore of this island Roberval cast anchor, and put his offending niece ashore, accompanied by an old female ser- vant who had encouraged her mistress in her passion. He gave them some provisions to sustain life for a time, and some arquebuses with which to defend themselves against the assaults of wild beasts and savages, if not against the more dreaded spirits of evil. The lover, too faithful to allow his beloved to be left thus to perish, resolved to share her fate, and plunging into the sea succeeded in reaching the shore. No attempt was made to capture him, and the ship soon sailed away, and the three were left on the desolate shore to the tender mercies of savages and beasts, and, as the sailors believed, to the tortures of the devils. Left to perish, with little hope of escape, the lovers at least found consolation in each other's presence. They constructed such rude shel- ter as they could, and indulged the love for which they were so cru- elly punished; and however much the demons may have raged about their devoted heads, they suffered no harm from that source a result which the devout old chroniclers ascribe to the protection of the Holy Virgin. The short summer passed, and the long winter came, and with it privations and suffering, relieved at last by the return of spring. A child was born; after a time the father sank under hardship and dis- ease, and died, and the child soon followed. The old servant did not long survive, and then the unfortunate lady was left alone to fight the battle of life on this desolate and haunted shore. No savage ever ap- peared; but hungry bears, prowling about the cabin, had been shot in MARGUERITE. 59 self-defence, and afforded the outcasts food, even while they believed that the demons assumed such shape. To defend life and to sustain it, Marguerite, when left alone, was obliged more than once to shoot the savage beasts. With a remarkable capacity to resist cold and hardship, she passed another dreary winter; but ere the third came she was for- tunately discovered by some adventurous fishermen, and rescued and returned to France, to tell the wondrous tale of her adventures. But this forced settlement on the Isle of Demons was of longer duration than the larger one which Roberval attempted on the banks of the St. Lawrence. Probably this story is not altogether a myth, although, as related by the old chroniclers, it would appear such; for they are more concerned with the efforts of imaginary demons to capture the souls of the exiles, and the protecting care of the Virgin, than with the physical sufferings and mental anguish of the exiles. We may imagine something of the miserable life they led upon that desolate island their efforts to pro- vide a shelter from the cold and storms, and to husband their scanty supplies; their timid wanderings over a limited extent of their domain, gathering scanty berries, or searching for the eggs of the sea fowl, and ever watching with hopeless anxiety for some approaching sail; their sufferings through the long and dreary winter, when the shores for months were ice-bound, and the drifting snows almost buried their cabin; the pangs of hunger, appeased sometimes only by innutritious roots; their conflict with ferocious beasts; and, through all the misery, the continuance of a mutual love that could endure these common hardships, and even find some brief moments of happiness. But who can picture the anguish with which the unshriven lover, and then the unbaptized babe, and then the last human companion, were dragged forth, by that lonely woman, from the desolate cabin, for unsanctified burial, in a shallow grave which hungry beasts might violate; and the utter lone- liness and despair that must have followed! The torture of demons, raging and threatening with all the horrid orgies which superstition could paint, could be no more fearful than the sufferings which the unfortunate Marguerite must have endured. After the failure of Cartier and Roberval to establish a colony on the St. Lawrence, all further attempts were abandoned by the French for many years. Their attention was engrossed in the feuds of their 60 THE FRENCH ON THE ST. LAWRENCE. own country, and their activity found abundant occupation in the wars between contending factions. Their fishermen, in large numbers, con- tinued to gather the harvest of the sea about Newfoundland, and fur traders found their way up the St. Lawrence to Tadoussac, to barter with the Indians, but no settlement was anywhere attempted. In 1598, however, the Marquis de La Roche undertook to colonize the country claimed as a domain of France. He was granted extraor- dinary powers and privileges by the king, and sailed in a small vessel, with a company composed in part of criminals taken from the prisons. Arriving at Sable Island, he landed forty convicts, and proceeded with the more worthy part of his company to make explorations, and select a site for the permanent establishment of his colony. But a storm drove him out to sea, and he was forced to sail back to France, leav- ing the band of criminals to take care of themselves. They were on a low, treeless island, where the only vegetation was a coarse grass and low bushes. But a wreck was on the beach, and from this they con- structed a shelter, and they caught fish and wild fowl for food. They also hunted wild cattle found on the island, the progeny of some left there many years before, and trapped foxes, and killed seals. Leading a miserable life, where they could not prey upon society, they preyed upon each other, quarrelled, fought, and murdered, so that disease and violence at last reduced their number to twelve. Five years this " col- ony" endured the hardships of their hopeless life, and then the survivors \vere rescued by a vessel of their countrymen. Probably the "fittest survived," for they are said to have subsequently engaged in the fur trade, instead of returning to a life of crime in France. VIII. FRENCH SETTLEMENT IN ACADIA. -m- T was not till more than sixty years after the failure of Cartier and Roberval to found a colony on the St. Law- rence, that a more successful attempt was made to estab- lish a French settlement in New France, and that at first was little better than a failure. Aymar de Chastes, to whom a patent was granted by the king of France to plant a colony in New France, formed a company among the merchants en- gaged in the fur trade and fisheries, for the purpose of carrying out the objects of his grant. Under the auspices of this company a preliminary voyage of exploration was made by Champlain and Pontgrave. They sailed up the St. Lawrence, and Champlain attempted to ascend the rapids above Montreal, but without success. After a brief examination of the shores where Cartier, nearly seventy years before, had attempted a settlement, they returned to France, to find that De Chastes was dead. The Sieur de Monts was then granted a patent to colonize Acadia, which comprised all the north-eastern portion of the continent as far as the St. Lawrence, with extraordinary powers and privileges. De Monts reorganized the company which De Chastes had formed, Champlain and Pontgrave being still interested, and fitted out two vessels, in which (in April, 1604) he embarked a singular combination of gentlemen, vaga- bonds, and criminals, Huguenot ministers and Catholic priests. Such a company was not very good material for a colony, the gentlemen alone feeling any interest in the success of the expedition; the others, with the exception of the clergy, being hired, and some of them forced into the service. Before the voyage was over there were not only quarrels 61 62 FRENCH SETTLEMENT IN AC AD I A. among the vagabonds and thieves, but the edifying spectacle was exhib- ited of Catholic priests and Protestant ministers pommelling each other because neither would accept the tenets of his opponent. Reaching the Bay of Fundy with one of his vessels, De Monts explored its shores, and entered the . strait which opens into the harbor of Annapolis. The Baron de Poutrincourt, one of the noblemen who accompanied De Monts, was greatly pleased with the aspect of the country, rising in gentle hills about the broad expanse of water, and clothed with summer verdure. He desired to settle there, and obtained from De Monts a grant of the region about the harbor, which was after- wards confirmed by the king. The place was at once named Port Royal, which name it retained as long as the French held it. The exploration was then continued in search of a place to establish a settlement of the motley company now in the ships, for Poutrincourt intended to bring out his own party to his domain at Port Royal. At last they selected an island, near the mouth of the St. Croix River, which was nearly surrounded by rocks, and was well adapted to defence, either against hostile natives or the ships of civilized enemies. The colonists disembarked, and the various stores and materials were landed. The island was well covered with cedars, which afforded timber for building, and the whole company was set at work to construct houses. These were built about an open square, and were apportioned to the various classes of colonists. The little village was surrounded by a palisade, and some cannon were mounted on a commanding rock. There was also a small chapel where the Catholic priests officiated, to the exclusion of the Protestants, and ere many months elapsed the little colony found ample need of the cemetery, which was duly set apart and consecrated. The colonists being housed, Poutrincourt sailed again for France, to make preparations for his own settlement at Port Royal. Pontgrave, who was to follow De Monts from France with the other ship shortly after the former sailed, did not arrive, and the company had no choice but to remain in their new settlement. Through the remainder of the summer and the early autumn they found their situation novel and pleasant. Finishing their houses and defences, and collecting wood for fuel, gave them occupation, and they found amusement in fishing and in various games, not to mention the continued conflicts of priests and ministers. SETTLEMENT AT PORT ROYAL. 63 But the long northern winter came, with its severe cold and pitiless storms, its drifting snows and its thick ice. Their houses were ill adapted to exclude the cold; and though they piled wood upon their fires till the island was almost devastated, they suffered severely. Even the wine froze, so that it was dealt out in solid lumps. Their food was not such as to preserve health, and they were stricken down with scurvy. Thirty-five of their number died, and most of the others suffered terribly from the disease. All the priests and ministers died, and when the irreverent hirelings buried a priest and minister in the same grave, to see if they would lie quietly together, the devout Catholics were sadly scan- dalized, though they lacked the energy to prevent it. Spring at last brought relief from the cold, and a change of food re- stored the survivors to health. Most of the company, however, were utter- ly dispirited, and longed to get away from this rock-bound island back to France. But there was no vessel in which to sail, and they watched the sea with anxious eyes for some friendly ship to appear. At last Font- grave, who had been unable to sail the previous year, arrived with forty more colonists, and there was great rejoicing among the long-imprisoned islanders. De Monts, as well as his company, was quite satisfied with one winter in his ill-chosen settlement, and he desired to find a more attractive place for his colony. The ever active Champlain, at once a daring soldier, an intrepid navigator, and an ardent explorer, sailed on a voyage of explora- tion to discover the better site. He coasted along the shores of Maine, and even as far as Cape Cod, landing at various points and trading with the Indians; but he nowhere found a place which invited a settlement, and his provisions being nearly exhausted, he returned to the St. Croix. De Monts then determined to return to Annapolis harbor, and to establish his colony on the shores which had seemed so attractive, although he had granted them to Poutrincourt. Everything valuable was placed on board the vessels, and the whole company , embarking, sailed across the broad bay into the spacious harbor of Port Royal, and selected a pleasant spot on its northern shore on which to begin anew their settlement. The summer was passing, and no time was lost in clearing away the forest and erecting buildings. Timber was abundant, but the toil in preparing it for use was heavy, and the work was slow. Before winter came, how- 64 FRENCH SETTLEMENT IN AC AD I A. ever, they had constructed buildings around a spacious court-yard or square, into which a gateway opened on the water side. The whole structure formed a sort of fort, enclosed on all sides, the passage to the shore being protected by palisades. It had its more spacious accommo- dations for the gentry, with ample dining-hall, and quarters for the sol- diers, artisans, and laborers on another side, while its kitchen, workshop, storehouse, and magazine filled the remainder of the quadrangle. Here, in feudal state the colony was established, like one great family of nobles and retainers in a castle in the middle ages. As soon as the houses had sufficiently advanced to afford shelter, De Monts sailed for France, where his presence was necessary to pro- tect his rights, and Pontgrave remained in charge of the colony. Another winter came, with rigors to which the colonists were unaccustomed. Again they suffered severely, but they had no lack of fuel, and around the blazing logs they kept from freezing, and they were not decimated by the scurvy, as they had been at St. Croix. With spring came anxiety for news from France, and for fresh sup- plies in their almost exhausted storehouse. But as the weeks passed and still no ship arrived, affairs began to wear a gloomy aspect, for the colony was poorly calculated to be self-supporting. At this stage, Pont- grave set sail, in two small vessels, with all his company but two, in search of some French fishing vessel, which might furnish them with food. Two men were left to guard the buildings. They were assisted in this care by an aged Indian, the chief of a small tribe who sojourned in the vicinity. The French, always better disposed towards the natives than the Spaniards or English, had made friends of these Indians, and the old chief, who, according to his own account, had seen more than a hundred summers, was especially friendly. When Pontgrave sailed away, he daily watched for his return. Twelve days after the departure of the expedition the vigilant chief descried a sail, and aroused the Frenchmen in the fort, who bravely rushed to the cannon mounted on a bastion at one corner of the quadrangle, to defend their position against any hostile ship. It was no enemy, however, but the ship of Poutrincourt, who had come with more colonists, and ample supplies for the settlement, now planted in his own domain. The new comers landed, and soon made i>7, three small ships, the largest of which was not more than a hundred tons burden, were driven by a storm past the shores where the unfortunate colony of Raleigh had been planted, into the waters of Chesapeake Bay. They had been sent out by a com- pany which had received a charter with authority to plant a colony in America, and which included in its number some of those who had been associated with Raleigh in his later enterprises, and were inspired with a like desire to settle the country which had been described in such glowing colors. Passing through Hampton Roads they explored the shores of the bay, and sailed up the broad river. The land was covered with a magnificent forest just putting on its spring verdure, and here and there broad meadows were green with grass already waving. Fair skies and warm weather made the region most attractive, and " heaven and earth seemed never to have agreed better to frame a place for man's commodious and delightful habitation." After explor- ing these attractive shores for seventeen days, the adventurers selected the site for their settlement. It was on a little peninsula, and seemed to them to offer advantages they had not met with at any other point; but it proved to be an ill-chosen and unhealthy place. Here the col- "5 Il6 JAMESTOWN AND CAPTAIN JOHN SMITH. onists landed on the i3th of May, 1607, and began to prepare, in an indifferent way, to establish themselves in their new dwelling-place. It was a company little adapted to the purposes in view. Of the one hundred and five emigrants only twelve were laborers, and a still smaller number were mechanics; the rest were gentlemen and tradesmen, who had come with a vague hope of mending their shattered fortunes, or escaping the ills that had befallen them at home. These were unac- customed to labor or hardship, and were consequently the last men who should have undertaken to settle in the wilderness, where toil and en- durance were necessary to subdue the forest and compel the untamed luxuriance of the soil to yield support for a civilized community. For this work, so essential for the success of the colony, there were twelve laborers, and four carpenters were to build the dwellings necessary to shelter the company, at least one half of whom knew nothing of labor, and being bred as gentlemen looked upon it as degrading. In the com- pany were some worthy men, among whom was Bartholomew Gosnold, the projector of the settlement, who had previously visited New Eng- land and sought to plant a colony there, Thomas Studley, the treasurer, Wotton, the surgeon, and a few others, who honestly desired the suc- cess of the expedition. But there were others who sought only their own advancement and the retrieving of their broken fortunes. The lead- ing men of this class were Wingfield, Ratcliffe, and Kendall ; the ablest and the only man really capable of managing the affairs of the settle- ment was Captain John Smith. The former, by artful and false insin- uations, succeeded in excluding Smith from participation in the govern- ment of the colony at the outset, and Wingfield was made president of the council, a body appointed by the company in England. Envious of his shining qualities, these men charged Smith with sedition and aim- ing at usurpation-; but not being able to prove anything, except that he possessed superior abilities to manage the affairs of the colony, they abandoned an attempt at trial, and by the good offices of the clergy- man, Hunt, he was restored to his place in the council. Smith was, indeed, the leading spirit of the colony, and the man of all others best qualified to rule it and secure its ultimate welfare. Though still a young man, he had led a remarkable career, met with the strangest experiences, shown the utmost daring, and studied human S5 O H 01 w 3 A U h U to W X CAPTAIN JOHN SMITH. ny nature under the greatest variety of circumstances. Having received a fair education in his boyhood, he went to France, where he learned some- thing of the art of war and skill in the use of arms. He afterwards went to the Low Countries and engaged in the war against Spain, where he distinguished himself by his bravery and his ardent espousal of the cause of the Netherlanders. Then he travelled in France, vis- ited Egypt, and wandered through Italy. ' Eager for adventure and a more exciting and active life, he went to Austria, and made his way to Wallachia, where the Turks were engaged in war against the Chris- tians, and where he enlisted under the Prince of Transylvania against the Moslem. There he distinguished himself by his bravery, and, re- peating the feats of the days of the Crusades, vanquished many a fol- lower of Mahomet in single combat. But at last, in a sudden skirmish, a party with which he was acting was overpowered by superior num- bers, and he was left wounded on the field. He was taken- prisoner, and sent to Constantinople as a slave, and as such consigned to the service of a Turkish lady. She was struck with his looks and bear- ing, and designing to save him from being sold as a slave in the market, sent him to a fortress in the Crimea, with orders that he should be well treated. There, however, the keeper to whose charge he was consigned treated him in the harshest manner, riveting an iron collar on his neck, and subjecting him to the severest tasks in company with brutish serfs. Smith could not long endure this. Rebelling against the indignity and cruelty inflicted upon him, he killed his oppressor, and mounting the horse of the latter sought safety in flight. Ascertaining the roads which led towards the Russian territory, he succeeded in reaching it, found relief from his hunger and weary toil by the kind- ness of a Russian woman, and at last travelled across the country to Transylvania. His former comrades hailed his return with joy, for his bravery was worth more than numbers to them. But Smith was now desirous of returning to his own country, and would not yield to their solicitations to join them in further warfare. He started, therefore, for England, but before reaching it the spirit of adventure was again aroused within him by rumors of war in Morocco, and thither he hastened in search of new dangers. At last he returned to England, and found that a new field of adventure was opening in the attempts to colonize Vir- n8 JAMESTOWN AND CAPTAIN JOHN SMITH. ginia. His active mind immediately engaged with enthusiasm in this undertaking, and he eagerly joined the company which was preparing to sail with Newport. His active mind, rich in experience, his confi- dent bearing, his enthusiasm, and his wise suggestions as to the man- agement of affairs, on the voyage, showed that he was the man to lead in the new enterprise, and excited the hostility of the gentry who as- sumed to be the leaders, and they laid their plot to get rid of him by trying and condemning him for imaginary crimes, or sending him back to England under serious charges. Happily for the existence of the colony, the plot failed; otherwise there, is little doubt that the fate of the settlement at Jamestown would have been like that of Raleigh's unfortunate colonies. The first preparations for a settlement were clearing the ground and pitching tents. Wingfield, the president of the council, would not allow any military preparations or fortifications, but consented to an enclosure made of the branches of trees thrown together, which would prove quite as advantageous to the savage assailants as to the defenders of the place. Trees were felled, partly for the purpose of constructing shelter more substantial than tents, and partly for freighting the vessels. Gardens were laid out and planted to a limited extent. Goods were landed, and the emigrants took up their abode on shore, giving to the place the name of Jamestown, in honor of the king. The work pro- ceeded but slowly, for there were more gentlemen lounging about in idleness, or assuming to direct affairs, than there were laborers and sailors to put their hands to the toil. Ever active and ready for emer- gencies, Smith not only gave direction to the work, but himself joined in the labor. The Indians, who witnessed these proceedings with some amazement, manifested a friendly disposition, although some previously met with had shown hostility. While these preparations were in progress, Newport, the commander of the ships, with Smith and twenty others, proceeded in boats up the river to discover its head, it being imagined that from its head-waters another river might flow westward into the South Sea, as the Pacific Ocean was then called. The natives received them with great hospi- tality, and being repaid with gifts of bells and other trinkets, were all the more eager to bring offerings of bread and fruits. Proceeding slowly to A Id H H Id w O z AN ATTACK BT INDIANS. 119 up the river, in six days they arrived at a place called Powhatan, the name given by the natives to the river, and borne also by the principal chief of the tribe dwelling in this region. The place consisted of twelve lodges or wigwams, pleasantly situated on high land, about which were many cornfields, planted in the rude manner of native agricul- ture. From this point the falls were reached thes ame day, and a cross was set up to indicate the limit of their progress. Powhatan received his strange visitors with hospitality, and was requited with some trifling gifts, and after a short stay, the explorers returned down the river. Hitherto the Indians had behaved in a friendly manner; but, as the boats reached a point some twenty miles above the new settlement, there were evident signs of hostility and some arrows were discharged at them from the shore. During the absence of this party, tnose remaining at the settlement experienced more severely the hostility of the natives. The latter per- haps imagined that the warriors of the white men had gone on the expedition up the river, and, according to the custom of savages, they made a sudden attack on the unarmed men who were engaged in plant- ing. A boy was killed, and seventeen men were wounded by the flight of arrows shot from a neighboring thicket. Fortunately the attack was observed on board one of the ships, and a shot from a cannon crashing through the trees alarmed the Indians, and they quickly withdrew. But for this the unarmed settlers might speedily have fallen under the tom- ahawk and scalping-knife. This event showed the obstinate president the necessity both of fortifications and military preparation, and accord- ingly a palisade fort was constructed, cannon mounted, and the men exercised with arms. These preparations prevented any repetition of the attack, but careless stragglers were not infrequently wounded by the arrows of lurking savages. Newport soon after sailed with his ships for England, leaving a hun- dred settlers, and enough provisions, as was supposed, to last them three months. The departure of the ships was like breaking the last link that bound them to their native land, and the colonists soon became despondent. The hopes which the beauty and luxuriance of the country had aroused speedily vanished. They were left in the wilderness, surrounded by savages who were inclined to hostile acts, though they 120 JAMESTOWN AND CAPTAIN JOHN SMITH. had lately professed friendship. The wretched material of which the colony was composed made it all the more subject to discontent and despondency. Unaccustomed to labor, and prostrated by the heat of the summer, most of them passed their days in idleness, which served to nurse their unhappiness. The ill-advised selection of the site for the settlement soon became apparent. It was low, and exposed to the malaria of extensive marshes, which engendered a fatal sickness. The idle and careless habits of the colonists rendered them less capable of resisting the attacks of disease, and they soon fell victims to it. At one time, there were scarcely five men able to guard the fort, and for weeks the tents and huts were filled with the dying, whose sufferings could not be relieved by those less severely afflicted. At times three or four died in one night, and there were hardly enough able to drag forth the dead for a hasty burial. By September fifty of the one hun- dred died, and among them Gosnold, who, next to Smith, was the most valuable man in the company, and had done much to preserve some sort of harmony among the discordant elements. During this season of sickness and death, Smith, by his more careful habits, his constant occupation, and his constitution, inured to hardship, escaped the disease, and devoted himself to the relief of the suffering. Wotton, the surgeon, also constantly ministered to the sick. During the sickness, the provisions failed, and the want of proper food added to the misery of the sufferers. In addition to this, Wing- field, the president, was accused of appropriating the public stores to his own use, and thus living in plenty, while the others suffered want. When the mutterings of discontent aroused by his baseness reached Wingfield's ears, he attempted to escape in the pinnace, which had been left for the use of the colonists, and sail for the West Indies. But his treachery was discovered, and the survivors of the colony arose in indignation and deposed him, choosing Captain John Ratcliffe in his place. Kendall, who was a confederate of Wingfield, was also removed from the council. The choice of Ratcliffe, however, was of little ben- efit to the colony. He was inefficient at a time when the colony most needed capacity and energy to save it from destruction, and he soon became unpopular. Under his maladministration the colonists would have starved but for the good will of the Indians, who brought them SMITH IN COMMAND. 121 supplies. At this stage the management of affairs devolved upon Smith, who alone showed himself competent to the task. He acted as " cape- merchant," or treasurer, and assuming command, with Ratcliffe's con- sent, he set the colonists to work to build houses better adapted to afford shelter in the coming winter than .the tents and frail huts in which they had hitherto lived. The grass in the meadows was cut and used for thatching the houses, and in a short time some comfortable habitations were constructed, capable of housing the greater part of the company. A roug-h. barn-like structure was also built, in which the Rev. Mr. Hunt O ~ / held daily service, according to the forms of the church of England. In the mean time, some of the men were employed in catching fish for the sustenance of the colony, and when the work of building was well advanced, Smith embarked, with six men, in a boat, to go in quest of supplies. Visiting a small Indian village, the party was met by the natives with hostility, but a discharge of fire-arms so alarmed them that they speedily brought him the supplies for which he asked, furnish- ing a quantity of venison, wild fowl, and corn. The success of this expedition induced Smith to make others, and by his visits to various Indian villages he obtained, from time to time, a supply of corn and venison sufficient to sustain the colony. While absent on one of these expeditions, Wingfield and Kendall, with a few confederates, again attempted to desert the colony, and sail away in the pinnace. Fortu- nately Smith returned just as they were about to put their plot in execu- tion, and, without waiting to parley, he opened so hot a fire upon them that they were compelled to surrender or sink. Kendall, who was the boldest, and the leader among the conspirators, was tried by a jury, and being convicted, was shot. This result, however, did not prevent a repetition of the attempt; and not long after, RatclifFe and one Captain Archer planned a similar escape from their hardships, but it was foiled by the vigilance and resolution of Smith. With the approach of winter came an immense flight of wild fowl from the north, and the river and inlets were filled with ducks. The waters yielded also an abundant supply of fish. Persimmons and wild peas were plenty, and, with what corn they could obtain from the Indians, the settlers now found no lack of wholesome food. But they were careless and improvident in this season of plenty, and recklessly NO. IV. 1 6 122 JAMESTOWN AND CAPTAIN JOHN SMITH. wasted much which might have been preserved for future use, in spite of Smith's efforts to provide against a less propitious time. When the wild fowl migrated southward, and food became less abundant, the idlers of the settlement, who did little except to consume and waste the sup- plies which Smith so carefully provided, began to murmur, and utter complaints against him because he had not traced the Chickahominy to its source, whence, as they believed, a way would be speedily dis- covered to the South Sea. The discontent at last extended to the council, and the idea of remaining in permanent exile in the wilderness when there was, as they believed, a probability of opening a new way to the Indies, and obtaining for themselves the much coveted wealth of the Orient, was not to be endured. To allay the growing dissatisfaction, and to test the soundness of this belief, in which he did not share, Smith determined to make another voyage up the Chickahominy, and explore it to its source. He accordingly started, with nine men, in a barge, accompanied by two Indian guides, and proceeded up the river until his course was obstructed by fallen trees. He then went back a few miles, and leav- ing the barge moored in a wide bay, in charge of seven men, with strict orders that they should not venture on shore till his return, he proceeded, with two men and the Indian guides, in a canoe, some twenty miles farther up the river. Shortly after he left the barge, the men in charge, disregarding his injunctions, went on shore, and one of them was surprised and killed by the savages. Smith, unaware of this misfortune, went on till he reached the marshy ground near the head of the river. Being in want of food, he went out with one of the Indian guides to shoot some game. The Indians on the banks of the river were watching for an opportunity to attack the strangers, and while Smith was on shore, the two men left in the canoe were slain, and soon after he met a party of the savages, who discharged their arrows at him. But seeing their hostile intentions, he made a shield of his guide, bind- ing him by the arm with one of his garters. As the Indians advanced, he shot one of them, and thus kept the party for a time at bay. They continued, however, to discharge their arrows at him, some of which pierced his clothes and slightly wounded him. He then endeavored to reach the canoe, walking backwards and keeping his eye on the enemy, SMITH A PRISONER. and holding the guide between them and himself. While proceeding in this way he suddenly sank to his waist in a muddy stream. While he still retained his arms, the Indians, who had a wholesome fear of their mysterious power, were afraid to approach very near him; but the weather was cold, and he was becoming chilled in the mud, from which he could not extricate himself, and in token of surrender he threw away his gun and pistol. The savages seeing this soon drew him out, half dead with cold, and taking him to a fire, chafed his limbs till he was restored. Smith had previously met with some strange experiences among bar- barians, and he had learned something of the nature of the savages whom he now encountered. His presence of mind did not desert him in this trying emergency, and he coolly inquired for the chief of the tribe. The great chief of Pamunkey, Opechancanough, was pointed out to him, and Smith, taking a small mariner's compass from his pocket, presented it to him, pointing at the trembling needle, which still held its position whichever way the case was turned. While the chief was wondering at the mystery of his gift, the other Indians bound the pris- oner to a tree, and were about to shoot him with their arrows, when Opechancanough, holding up the compass, bade them desist. The chief's command was promptly obeyed, and after a brief consultation among his captors, Smith was again unbound, and conducted under a strong guard to an Indian town in the upper part of the Chickahominy swamp. This town consisted of thirty or forty lodges, and as the warriors ap- proached it, men, women, and children swarmed out of them with wild cries, and gazed in astonishment upon the prisoner, he being the first white man that most of them had seen. Then followed a war-dance, with its fearful howls, and a terrible din by the women and children, who rejoiced over the capture of the mysterious stranger. A great feast was then prepared, and an enormous quantity of food was set before Smith, after the custom of the Indians, who thus treated their captives when about to kill them. Smith's fate, however, was as yet undetermined, though one Indian, whose -son he had mortally wounded, attempted to avenge the loss by killing him, and would have succeeded but for the interposition of his guards. The chief, Opechancanough, desired to make a better use of him by securing him as an ally. He was intending to 124 JAMESTOWN AND CAPTAIN JOHN SMITH. make an attack on Jamestown, and he offered Smith such inducements as seemed to the savage mind most powerful, promising him life, lib- erty, land, and wives if he would join in the raid. Learning the pur- pose of the chief, the wary captive, without refusing or assenting to the proposal, induced his captors, under some pretence, to send mes- sengers to the settlement, and by them he sent a letter written upon the leaf of a book, in which he warned the settlers of the intended at- tack, and directed what measures should be adopted to impress the mes- sengers with fear, and what presents should be sent back by them. The messengers executed their errand, and brought back the presents with the astonishing story that the mysterious captive had made the paper speak to his friends and tell them where he was. This served to im- press the Indians with awe as for a supernatural being, or one having powers far beyond their most cunning sorcerers. The contemplated attack on Jamestown was abandoned, and Smith was conducted from village to village, exciting everywhere the astonishment and curiosity of the natives. Arriving at the residence of Opechancanough, the sor- cerers were summoned, and for three days the whole tribe were en- gaged in the wildest orgies and incantations for the purpose of divin- ing the character of the prisoner, and whether his designs were friendly or hostile. The effort was not altogether successful, and opinions dif- fered as to the disposal to be made of him. The journey was then continued till it reached the residence of Powhatan, the great chief of all the clans in this region. During all this time Smith was well treated, and furnished with abundance of food and fur robes. And he endeav- ored to secure the good will and confidence of his captors, as well as to inspire them with respect for his superior knowledge. At last the prisoner was taken to the residence of Powhatan, on the banks of the Pamunkey River. The great chief was found in a large lodge, which Smith dignified with the name of a palace. Adorned with feathers and beads, and wearing a robe of furs, he reclined on a raised seat or platform, which to the Englishman seemed a throne, while at his head and feet respectively sat a young Indian girl, and around the lodge were seated the warriors of the tribe in rows as if for a council. Be- hind the warriors stood the squaws, adorned in gayest Indian fashion with paint and feathers. As Smith was led into the lodge the whole SAVED BT POCAHONTAS. assembly set up a terrific yell, whether of welcome or triumph the cap- tive might well doubt. He was seated on a mat in the midst of the assembly, when a squaw, who was presumed to be the " queen," brought him water for washing, and another brought a bunch of feathers for a towel. Then came the feast which usually attended such extraordi- nary occasions, and that being finished, a long consultation followed, in which the warriors listened with grave dignity while in turn they ex- pressed their views concerning the captive. The purport of the long talk Smith could only guess from the gestures and violence with which some of the Indians uttered their brief speeches; but the consultation being finished, he was left no longer in doubt, when two large stones were brought in, and he was seized by several of the warriors, thrown down, and his head laid upon the stones. Others snatched up their war-clubs and tomahawks, and brandishing them in the air, threatened his immediate death. The fatal blow would have descended, when it was arrested by the cry of Pocahontas, Powhatan's favorite daughter, a girl of twelve or thirteen years of age, who entreated her father and his fol- lowers to spare the captive's life. The savages murmured their disap- proval, and would have persisted in the sacrifice, but Pocahontas forced her way into the crowd of warriors, and throwing her arms around the captive, laid her head upon his. The arm ready to strike was again arrested, and, moved by this strange appeal of his daughter, Powhatan ordered the captive's life to be spared.* Already inspired with awe by Smith's mysterious character as that of a superior being, the Indians regarded this interposition of the chief's child with superstitious reverence, and acquiesced in the decision of mercy. Grateful to the child who had thus saved his life, Smith manifested his thanks in a way which won her confidence. He gave her such * Such is the purport of Smith's own account of his condemnation and rescue, but there is some reason to believe that in describing his own adventures he drew a long bow. Some of the proceedings are not altogether in accordance with the customs of the Indians, and he may have drawn incorrect inferences from some of their actions. Of the main fact, however, that he was saved by the intercession of Pocahontas there is little doubt, though there are not wanting icon- oclasts who would destroy this image of mercy so -familiar and pleasing to the youthful student of colonial history. 126 JAMESTOWN AND CAPTAIN JOHN SMITH. trinkets as he could divest himself of, and fashioned some toys to please her native curiosity, and by his gentleness secured her lasting friend- ship, which proved of inestimable value to the colony. Powhatan and his followers, ceasing to regard him as an enemy, sought to make him a friend and ally in their warlike enterprises. They endeavored to in- duce him to join them in an attack on Jamestown, but without excit- ing their suspicions he succeeded in diverting their thoughts into other channels. At last, upon the promise of two great guns and a grind- stone, the use of "which they had in some way discovered, Powhatan agreed to send him back to Jamestown, and to regard him as his son. With two Indians for guides he started on his return, and it was not without a feeling that they might treacherously despatch him as he slept, that he lay down with them in a deserted wigwam to rest, but not to sleep, for the night. The next day he arrived safely at the settlement, after an absence of seven weeks, to the great joy of most of the sur- viving settlers. The Indian guides were treated hospitably, and received a number of presents to carry back to Powhatan, including the prom- ised cannon and grindstone. Escaping from death at the hands of the Indians, Smith was now in like danger from his own countrymen. Archer had been illegally ad- mitted to the council, and fearing and hating Smith on account of his \vell-earned distinction, and possibly some justly administered rebuke, with some of his confederates he trumped up a charge against Smith on the strength of a chapter of Leviticus, and procured his trial for the death of his two men who were slain by the Indians. He was con- demned to be hanged, but the opportune arrival of Newport saved him from a fate which would probably have brought disaster upon the colony. When Smith returned, the number of colonists had been reduced to forty, and they were planning an escape from the wilderness and a re- turn to England. It was, perhaps, to remove a formidable obstacle to this course that the condemnation of Smith was plotted. The arrival of Newport with additional settlers and a supply of provisions gave a new aspect to affairs. Smith reported, too, that there was an abundance of food to be had from the Indians, and that their friendship was secured through the kind offices of Pocahontas, and accordingly the hopes of the JOHN SMITH A CAPTIVE AMONG THE INDIANS. THE BURNT SETTLEMENT REBUILT. settlers revived. Soon after that remarkable Indian girl came with a train of attendants bearing gifts of corn, venison, and furs from her father. A friendly intercourse between the settlers and the natives was thus begun, based on the admiration of Pocahontas for Smith. It was followed up by a visit from Newport, Smith, and others to Powhatan's residence, and a presentation of various gifts to the chief and his fam- ily. While the good will of the great chief of the Indians was thus secured, and the danger of famine seemed to be averted for the future, an accidental fire destroyed the greater part of the little settlement. It originated in the common storehouse, and the flames spread rapidly over the slight, thatched dwellings, consuming them and a great part of their contents, and reaching even the palisades that formed the de- fences of the place. The loss of a large portion of their stores reduced the settlers to short allowance again, the destruction of their houses exposed them to the inclemency of the weather, and they were again attacked by sickness, which in many cases proved fatal. After a stay of more than three months, Newport again sailed for England, and with him the colonists sent Wingfield and Archer, who had been the cause of no little trouble and discontent by their selfish ambition and assumption of honors and emoluments. RatclifFe, the pres- ident, was no less selfish, but he contented himself with liberally sup- plying his own wants from the public store, and showed no capacity for managing the affairs of the little colony. Upon Smith devolved the care which no one else seemed capable of assuming, and scarcely of sharing. He undertook to rebuild the settlement, and by his energy and example set the whole company at work, felled trees, constructed new dwellings and another church, and, as spring advanced, prepared and planted some small fields. Occupation prevented discontent and despondency, and the settlers were engaged if not cheerfully, at least without much murmuring in their work, when they were pleasantly surprised by the arrival of another ship from England with an addi- tional number of settlers, and a supply of stores sufficient to last six months. The composition of this accession was very similar to that of the first company of settlers, and was calculated to be of little advantage to the colony. Of the one hundred and twenty emigrants brought by New- I 2 8 JAMESTOWN AND CAPTAIN JOHN SMITH. port and this last ship, thirty-three were gentlemen, twenty-one labor- ers and servants, six tailors, two apothecaries, two jewellers, two gold- refiners, two goldsmiths, a gunsmith, a blacksmith, a cooper, a surgeon, a tobacco-pipe maker, and a perfumer. The number of jewellers, gold- refiners, and goldsmiths, as well as of gentlemen, shows how little the wants and necessities of a settlement in Virginia were understood. The gold fever had already raged, much to the disgust of Smith, who was very far from indulging in the vain dreams of imaginary wealth. The arrival of the recruits caused it to return with increased violence, and " there was no talk, no hope, no work, but dig gold, wash gold, refine gold." The necessary artisans were present to refine and work the precious metal, it was only requisite to find it, and much energy and labor were wasted in searching for it, which would have been of some value to the colony if devoted to agriculture. The only result was a dis- covery of some yellow earth which proved to be of no value. Smith devoted himself to more useful labors, and in June, 1608, with seven gentlemen and seven soldiers embarked in a barge for the pur- pose of exploring Chesapeake Bay. They explored the eastern shore of the bay, meeting with various tribes or clans of Indians, who were rewarded with small gifts or frightened by the discharge of fire-arms, according as they manifested hospitality or a defiant hostility. They afterwards ascended the Potomac, meeting with a like varied reception at the hands of the Indians, but always inspiring them with awe and alarm whenever they appeared in a threatening attitude. While in the Potomac Smith was one day amusing himself with spearing fish with his sword, when, taking one of the victims from its point, he was struck and stung in the wrist by the fish, which is now known by the name of " stingray," or " stingaree," and has a long, serrated tail, flexible like a whip-lash, and armed with a poisoned sting. The wound was very painful, and soon the symptoms became so alarming that Smith believed it would prove fatal, and gave directions for his burial on a neighbor- ing island. Fortunately, however, one of the company was a surgeon, who exerted his skill for the relief of the sufferer, and the effects of the poison soon passed away. After an absence of several weeks the explorers returned to James- town, where they found sickness and discontent prevailing. The self- NEW IMMIGRANTS AND GOLD-HUNTERS. indulgent and incompetent president, Ratcliffe, could no longer be tolerated, and he was removed, and Smith, who was entitled to succeed, being desirous to resume his explorations, named Scrivener to act in his stead. With six gentlemen and as many soldiers he again embarked about the end of July, and explored a number of the rivers and creeks, and made his observations with such care that he was enabled to pre- pare a map giving a very good outline of the shores of Chesapeake Bay and the rivers flowing into it. In his explorations during this summer Smith estimated that he had traversed upwards of three thousand miles, and had been in Jamestown only three days during three months. Affairs in the colony meanwhile had not prospered for want of effi- cient management, and Smith now consented to take the office of pres- ident. He at once set the settlers at work repairing the church and storehouse, erecting magazines for stores, and reconstructing the fort. The military force was reorganized, and the whole company was mus- tered under arms for exercise every Saturday, and scores of Indians came and watched in amazement their movements and their target prac- tice. Thus order and discipline were restored, and the settlement pre- pared for any hostile movement of the treacherous natives, who were duly impressed with the superior power of the English. At this time Newport again arrived from England, bringing seventy new emigrants, one of whom was accompanied by his wife, with her maid, the first Englishwomen in the colony. The English company who held the charter imposed upon Newport the performance- of one of three things, which were impossibilities; namely, to bring back a lump of gold, to discover a certain passage to the South Sea, or to rescue one of Sir Walter Raleigh's lost colonists. Disappointed in their expectations of profit, they also required that the colonists should load the ship with commodities sufficient to defray the expense of the voyage, about two thousand pounds, and threatened that if this were not done they should be left in Virginia as banished men. Such orders did not contribute to the welfare or content of the col- ony. The desire to discover gold was re-awakened, and Newport was compelled to make an effort to discover the imaginary passage to the Pacific, and even to send an expedition to the south in a fruitless search for some survivor of Raleigh's colony. These things unsettled the NO. rv. 17 1 3 o JAMESTOWN AND CAPTAIN JOHN SMITH. newly established industry of the colony, and engaged the settlers in fruitless labors. Newport had also brought some presents for Powhatan, who was to be duly crowned as king, though for what purpose it is difficult to imagine, since it could not increase his authority over the tribes of which he was the great chief. The first business was to deliver to the chief the presents brought for him, and perform the ceremony of coronation. Accordingly Smith, with three or four companions, went overland to the usual dwelling-place of Powhatan, to invite him to Jamestown to receive the honors in store for him. The chief was absent, but native messengers were sent to call him home, and in the mean time Smith and his companions were enter- tained in a remarkable manner by Pocahontas and a troop of Indian girls, whose performances were quite as startling as pleasing. They made a fire in an open space in the midst of the woods, and seating Smith and his companions, with two or three aged Indians, on mats before it, they retired. Soon a hideous noise of shouts and shrieks was heard in the woods, and the Englishmen, seizing their arms, laid hold of the Indians, fearing a hostile attack. But Pocahontas immediately came forward and assured Smith that no harm was intended, and that he might kill her if there was any attempt at a surprise. Having entire faith in the friendship of the " princess," as she was called, Smith reas- sured his companions, and they awaited further demonstrations. Soon a band of Indian girls emerged from the woods, their nearly naked bodies painted with brilliant colors, and adorned with feathers, the antlers of deer, and various other savage ornaments. At their head was Poca- hontas, wearing a fine pair of buck's horns, with a quiver of arrows at her shoulder and a bow in her hand, and some fine furs hanging at her girdle, a veritable Indian Diana. Her followers carried swords, obtained from the English, clubs, and apparently whatever implement they could seize for the occasion. With piercing shrieks and cries in imitation of wild beasts, they circled round the fire, dancing after the Indian fashion with the wildest and most fantastic motions. This per- formance continued for an hour, when they retired again to the woods, soon after returning in a more quiet manner, and invited the guests to their lodges, where an Indian feast was served, and the wild singing and dancing continued while the Englishmen ate. Then, with lightwood CORONATION OF POWHATAN. torches, they escorted the party to a lodge assigned for their use, pay- ing Smith especial attention, and seeking from him some expression of admiration. When Powhatan arrived the next day, Smith informed him of the presents which awaited him at Jamestown, and invited him thither to receive them. He also promised Newport's aid to revenge himself upon his enemies the Monacans, who inhabited the country at the north-west, where Newport was to seek his passage to the South Sea. Powhatan probably suspected some treachery, for he replied haughtily that he would not go to Jamestown, but would wait eight days for the presents to be brought to him, and that he was able to fight his battles with the Monacans without help. As for the salt water beyond the mountains of which Smith spoke as the object of Newport's proposed expedition into the country of the Monacans, he declared there was no such water, but land everywhere. Smith returned to Jamestown, and the presents were sent by water, on a circuitous route, while he with Newport and fifty men proceeded by land to the Indian town. Having reached the appointed place, and the presents having arrived, the next day was appointed for the coronation and presentation of gifts, with befitting ceremonies. The presents consisted of a bed and furniture, a basin and ewer, and clothing. These were delivered to the chief in due form, and then a scarlet suit and cloak were brought out, and with some difficulty substituted for the fur mantle more familiar to his limbs. Having dressed him in a civilized fashion, not without some objections and fears on his part, the next step was to make him kneel to receive the crown. This was a still more difficult task. The haughty savage was not accustomed to kneel, and was not disposed to try the unusual posture in the presence of his followers and women. But at last, after urgent persuasions and hard pressing on his shoulders, he was made to bend a little, when three Englishmen solemnly placed the crown upon his head. The ceremony being accomplished, a volley of musketry was discharged from the boats, greatly to the alarm of the Indians. They were soon pacified, however, and Powhatan, not to be outdone in generosity and condescension, bestowed upon Newport his old mantle and moccasons. With these valuable gifts, and some corn, which they purchased with a few beads and trinkets, the English returned to Jamestown. I3 2 JAMESTOWN AND CAPTAIN JOHN SMITH. Contrary to the advice of Smith, who had no faith in the discovery of any passage to the Pacific, or any gold, Newport soon after set out on the expedition which he was required to undertake into the country of the Monacans, on the banks of the upper portion of James River. Taking a force of one hundred and twenty men, comprising nearly all the able- bodied men of the colony, he left Smith with the sick and feeble to take care of Jamestown. This force proceeded up the river as far as the falls in boats, and then marched some forty miles farther, finding a pleasant and picturesque country and one or two Indian towns, but neither any prospect of a passage to the South Sea nor any signs of gold. The Indians were afraid of so formidable a party of strangers armed with thunderbolts, and they made no attack. But they manifested no desire to propitiate the visitors, and would not furnish any corn. His provisions getting short, and many of his men being exhausted by their unusual toil, Newport was obliged to return, and his party reached Jamestown worn down with fatigue, sick, and utterly disappointed. Jealousy of Smith was always slumbering in the hearts of some of the colonists, ready to break out in acts of insubordination upon any pretext. Disappointed at the result of his expedition, and perhaps dis- contented with himself, Newport, consorting with Ratcliffe, attempted to depose Smith from the presidency of the council, but the latter, by his watchfulness and tact, foiled their schemes. He soon had occasion to exercise his authority against Newport, who suffered his sailors, together with some of the settlers, to carry on an illicit trade with the Indians, by which the colony suffered a serious loss of supplies, and the Indians obtained many useful articles at so cheap a rate that they would not furnish corn except for much more valuable presents than previously. This was so serious a matter that Smith threatened to send away the vessel and compel Newport to remain a year in the colony, that he might learn by experience the difficulties with which the settlers had to con- tend. This threat had the desired effect, and Newport, acknowledging the folly of such a traffic, prohibited it. Among the emigrants brought out on the last voyage were a number of Dutchmen, who had been sent by the corporation to make glass, tar, and soap ashes. These Smith set at work, together with some of the other colonists, that the ship might carry back some return for the SMITH'S VIEWS Of THE COLONY. expenses of the voyage. Always ready to encourage the men to labor by example, and to share their toil and hardship, he went with thirty of them some miles below the fort to fell trees and saw plank. In this party were two or three of the gentlemen who had recently arrived. They were unused to labor, but encouraged or shamed by Smith's exam- ple, they engaged in the work with spirit, and were rather pleased with the novelty of the occupation. When, however, their delicate hands were blistered by the axe helves, they grew profane, and the woods resounded with their oaths, as well as with the blows of the axes. The president, who was never guilty of profanity, took a novel way of pun- ishing the offenders and curing the evil. He took measures to have the oaths of each one numbered, and in the evening for each oath he poured a can of water down the offender's sleeve. The oaths had been so numerous that the punishment was anything but a joke, and it proved so effectual that scarce an oath was heard for a week, however many were indulged in mentally. Loading the ship with such glass, tar, pitch, and soap ashes as the settlers had been able to prepare in a few weeks, Newport at last sailed for England, and with him Ratcliffe was sent back as a troublesome and odious person, and " lest the company should cut his throat." Smith also sent a letter to the managers in London, in which he expressed himself quite freely as to the policy which was pursued with regard to the colony. In reply to the threat that if the cost of the last voyage was not repaid by the colony they should be abandoned, he showed in caustic terms the utter folly of expecting an immediate profit from Virginia. He pointed out the unsuitable character of most of the emigrants for settling in this new country, where labor was so essential. " When you send again," he wrote, " I entreat you rather send but thirty carpenters, husbandmen, gardeners, fishermen, blacksmiths, masons, and diggers up of trees' roots, well provided, than a thousand of such as we have." It was still necessary to obtain food from the Indians, and Smith made several excursions to explore the country and traffic for corn. The Indians, actuated by fear rather than good will, remained quiet, and were not unwilling to barter their corn for copper and toys. Powhatan, having assumed English clothes, aspired to own a better dwelling than the bark lodge which he occupied, and to increase his possessions, and 134 JAMESTOWN AND CAPTAIN JOHN SMITH. he accordingly sent a request to Smith that he would send men to build him a house, and would give him a grindstone, fifty swords, a pair of domestic fowls, and much copper, and many beads. In return, he prom- ised to load the boats with corn. The wily chief had learned to be cautious in his traffic, and not to deliver his goods till he received his pay for them. He had on a previous occasion presented Newport with twenty turkeys, for which he had demanded and received an equal num- ber of swords, and being greatly pleased with these weapons, he coveted more, and subsequently sent twenty turkeys to Smith, with a proposal for a similar exchange. But Smith did not consider it wise to put such arms into the hands of the savages, and refused to send the swords. The disappointed chief then told his followers to steal the desired weap- ons, and the attempt being made, some of the savages were severely punished by Smith. Still anxious to possess more swords and guns, Powhatan now made this new proposition for a trade, being determined not to deliver the corn till he received the price. Smith sent a party of Englishmen and two Dutchmen by land to build the house, and then embarked, in the latter part of December, in three barges, with nearly fifty men, to visit the chief, carrying articles for barter, but not the coveted arms. Being detained on the way by stormy weather, the party stopped at an Indian town called Kecoughtan, where, going ashore, they spent the holidays among the friendly natives, feasting on oysters, ven- ison, and wild fowl, as sumptuously as they would have fared in Old England, and enjoying sports which, if not like those of Christmas time in their own country, made the time pass merrily. The waters were filled with wild fowl, and the English guns afforded sport alike to the col- onists and the Indians who shared the game thus provided. The num- bers of fowl, among which probably there was an abundance of canvas- back ducks, may be imagined when it is reported that Smith and two others killed one hundred and forty-eight in three shots. Reaching at last the residence of Powhatan, Smith and some of his companions landed and took up their quarters in one of the lodges, where the old chief, having sent a liberal supply of food, came and had a conference with them. Powhatan declared that he was very old, and had seen the death of all his people thrice, that he must soon die, and he desired that his people might live at peace with the English. He POCAHONTAS WARNS SMITH OF DANGER. 135 wanted his visitors to lay aside their arms, and was so urgent in this that Smith with good reason suspected he contemplated some act of treachery, for which his talk about his strong desire for peace was only a cover. To anticipate any such movement Smith privately sent orders to his men in the boats to come cautiously and capture him. The wily chief, however, seeing the armed men approaching, fled with his women and children, while the warriors surrounded the cabin, threatening Smith and his companions with an assault. The brave Englishman, however, had faced greater danger, and seizing his arms, rushed out and dis- charged his pistol at them so boldly and suddenly that some were wounded and tumbled one over another, and the others fled in dismay. Powhatan, finding that his scheme had failed, and that he was no match for the English with their fire-arms, sent an aged Indian with a string of wampum to Smith, in token of amity, together with a liberal sup- ply of corn. This was, probably, intended to lull Smith's suspicion rather than as a sincere token of friendship, for the chieftain soon after plot- ted with the Dutchmen who had been sent to build him a house, and who were greatly pleased with the good cheer and free life they en- joyed, to accomplish Smith's destruction. The Dutchmen, in common with many others of the colonists, hated and feared Smith, whose en- ergetic administration of affairs was regarded as a sort of despotism, and the Indian knew well that he was the master spirit of the English, whose bravery and watchfulness awed the natives and preserved the col- ony from starvation and destruction. It was therefore no very unnat- ural alliance which these worthless whites and the savage chief entered into. But the plot failed through the firm friendship and bravery of Pocahontas. Learning what treachery was contemplated, this young girl stole cautiously through the woods at night, and coming to the cabin where Smith lodged, told him that her father would soon send him a bountiful supply of game, in order that he and his men might have a great feast, but that the Indians would come in great numbers, and kill him and all the English with their own weapons while they were en- joying the repast. She begged him, therefore, with an earnestness which attested her love, to leave at once. Smith would have rewarded her brave friendship with gifts, but she declined to receive them, saying that if they were seen, and her visit should be discovered, her father 136 JAMESTOWN AND CAPTAIN JOHN SMITH. would kill her. Urging him to depart without delay, she ran away again to her distant cabin. Smith did not comply with the prayer of Pocahontas, and hasten away from the danger, but being thus fore- warned, he was prepared for any treachery. Soon after Pocahontas had gone, eight stout warriors arrived from Powhatan's residence, bringing professions of friendship and platters of venison for Smith and his com- panions. They desired that the matches for the guns, which had been lighted when the Indian girl's story was told, should be extinguished; but Smith declined to accede to the insidious request, and fearing poi- son, made the savages taste of the food on each of the platters they had brought. He then bade them return to their chief and tell him that he was ready to receive him. The treacherous plot of the savage was thus foiled through the friendly service of his daughter. Leaving the Dutchmen to finish Powhatan's house, and a young Eng- lishman, named Boynton, to shoot wild fowl for him, Smith, with the rest of his men, proceeded farther up the river to procure an additional supply of corn from the chief Opechancanough, a brother of Powhatan. The treachery of the Dutchmen was not then suspected, but the English had hardly departed before they entered into a new plot with Powhatan. While one of them remained with the Indians, and made stone toma- hawks, which he could do much more easily with his tools than the natives with their rude implements, the other, with a party of Indians, went to Jamestown. By false pretences and the assistance of some of the colonists who were equally ready to become traitors, these renegades procured a supply of arms and ammunition, which the natives carried back to Powhatan. Boynton, ascertaining what was going on, attempted to stealthily make his way to Jamestown with the information; but his movements were watched with suspicion, and he was soon captured and taken back, expecting from the threats of the savages that he would be put to death. He was spared such a fate, however, but did not dare to repeat the attempt. Meanwhile Smith, having reached the place where Opechancanough dwelt, landed with a number of his men and proceeded to the chief's lodge, a quarter of a mile or more back from the river. They found the village deserted, a lame man and a boy being the only inhabitants left. Though the cabins were stripped of the few household goods per- INDIAN TREACHERT. 137 taining to the domestic life of the savages, it was not an abandonment of their homes, for even on short journeys and hunting expeditions they carried their effects with them. They had heard of the coming of the English, and had retired to avoid the delivery of corn which had been previously promised, and they were, like the more immediate followers of Powhatan, inclined to hostilities whenever, according to Indian tac- tics, they could' take the English at disadvantage. Opechancanough, how- ever, was not far off, and he soon appeared with some of his warriors armed with their usual warlike weapons. A conference was held, and Smith reproached the chief for not bringing corn according to prom- ise, and for his inhospitable and unfriendly action. The Indian replied that he had but a scanty supply, but would bring what he could on the morrow. The next day Smith with his party went again to the lodge, where they found four or five Indians, who had brought each a large basket. Opechancanough soon came in, and with an appearance of honest regret told Smith with what trouble he had been able to collect this corn and thus keep his promise. While still speaking, one of the English an- nounced that the lodge was surrounded by a large number of Indians. Some of the party were dismayed at this announcement, but Smith, who never knew fear, appealed to them to show some courage, and to fight like men, and not die like sheep. He then upbraided Opechan- canough for his treachery and murderous purposes, and challenged him to single combat on a neighboring island, where they could fight it out without interference. This did not suit the chief's idea of fighting, and he tried to lure Smith into an ambuscade a more approved style of warfare among the Indians. But the watchful Englishman, divining his purpose, suddenly seized him by the hair, and pointing a pistol at his breast, led him trembling before his astonished followers. The terrified chief gave- up his weapons, and the other Indians immediately threw down theirs in dismay. Hostilities being thus suspended, it was not long before men, women, and children brought various commodities to trade with the English, and friendly relations seemed to be entirely restored. The Indian propensity for treachery and surprise, however, was still in- dulged, and when at last the Englishmen retired to one of the cabins for rest, a party of warriors armed with tomahawks and swords stealth- NO. iv. 18 138 JAMESTOWN AND CAPTAIN JOHN SMITH. ily approached, intending to despatch them while asleep, and liberate their chief, who was still in custody. Fortunately they were discovered in time, and Smith and his comrades, starting up, soon put the natives to flight by the terrors of their fire-arms. While the English tarried at this place, a messenger from James- town, who had come safely through the wilderness, protected by Poca- hontas, brought intelligence of the death of Scrivener, Waldo, and other prominent men of the colony, who had been lost while on an expedi- tion down the river in a boat. This determined Smith to return to the settlement, making such further collection of corn as he could on the way. As he passed the territory of Powhatan, the Indians appeared in consider- able numbers on the banks of the river, unarmed, and carrying baskets of corn. There was a mutual attempt on the part of Powhatan and Smith to inveigle each other into an ambuscade, but neither succeeded; and Powhatan, as if despairing of destroying so superior an invader, caused a large quantity of corn to be delivered to the English, and then aban- doned his new house, and carried away all the remainder of his pro- visions, as Smith shortly afterwards discovered upon returning from an excursion up the Pamunkey and again visiting what had been the chief's favorite residence. Smith now returned to Jamestown, having purchased with a few pounds of iron and copper, and some beads, nearly five hundred bush- els of corn. And there was need of this supply in the colony, for the provision in the public store had been greatly damaged by exposure to the rain, or devoured by rats and worms. The affairs of the colony were again in a bad way, as was always the case when Smith was ab- sent. The settlers had been living in idleness, and had bartered away arms and implements to the Indians for trifling supplies of game or corn, thus impoverishing themselves, and putting into the hands of the savages weapons for their own destruction. Smith at once applied him- self to enforce discipline and order. He now was virtually supreme, there being but one other surviving councillor, and the president hav- ing two votes. He insisted that every man should perform labor during a certain number of hours, and established a rule that " he who would not work should not eat." While requiring work, he wisely provided recreation, and thus made his administration more tolerable to the indo- OV fViA.-' ,***S^ ^ NtfMuAl CAPTAIN SMITH AND THE CHIEF OF PASPAHEGH. SMITH AND THE CHIEF OF PASPAHEGH. lent settlers, who nevertheless regarded with little favor the man whose foresight, energy, and bravery were the salvation of the colony. His bravery and strength were fully illustrated at this time in a ren- contre with a chief of a neighboring tribe, or clan, whom he met near Jamestown. This savage, who was of great .stature, attempted to shoot Smith, but the latter closed with him so quickly that he could not use his weapons. Then followed a fierce struggle, in which the savage, by superior strength, forced his antagonist into the river, and attempted to drown him. But by desperate exertion Smith at last grasped the In- dian by the throat, and, drawing his sword, would have killed him, had he not uttered piteous cries, which induced the victor to spare his life; and he led him a prisoner into Jamestown, and put him in chains. The wives and followers of the captive chief came with presents to ransom him; but he was held as a hostage for the good behavior of his tribe. At last, however, he made his escape, and though quickly pursued by a party of fifty men, he was not captured. Fearing the con- sequences of his return to his tribe, Smith determined to go out and " try conclusions " with the savages, without waiting for them to attempt a surprise. He accordingly made war on this tribe, and killing some, taking others prisoners, burning their cabins, and carrying away their canoes, he so terrified them that they sued for peace, and so long as he remained at Jamestown made no further hostile demonstrations. Smith's bravery inspired the natives with superstitious reverence. They regarded the other settlers with little respect or fear unless he was with them, but they feared Smith as a superior being. An incident of a different kind confirmed their regard for him. A young Indian had been captured for stealing a pistol, and was detained in a guard-room until some of his comrades should return the stolen article. The weather was cold, and to contribute to the captive's comfort, some charcoal was sent to him with his food. The fumes of the charcoal in the small room in which he was confined soon deprived the unfortunate prisoner of con- sciousness, and when a companion who had brought back the pistol was admitted to him he was found stretched upon the ground, apparently lifeless. The Indians who were present, upon seeing their comrade in this condition, set up a grievous lamentation, believing he had been killed. Smith soon appeared, and immediately applied brandy and vin- 140 JAMESTOWN AND CAPTAIN JOHN SMITH. egar, and with other remedies he succeeded in restoring the patient. This performance added to Smith's reputation among the savages; they looked upon him as having supernatural powers, and they were ready to worship him as a god who could restore the dead to life. The unrestrained intercourse with the Indians, who manifested a friendly disposition, had led to such a barter of the property, not only of individuals but of the colony, that Smith now prohibited it, and con- structed a block-house at the neck of the peninsula, and garrisoned it with soldiers, who alone were authorized to trade with the Indians. The colonists were not allowed to pass out beyond the block-house, nor the Indians to come in, except by permission of the president. Twenty houses were also built in the settlement, and a block-house at Hog Island, where the swine were kept. As spring came thirty or forty acres of larid were planted with corn. Smith also partially constructed a small stone fort on a high bluff overlooking a creek that flows into James River, which was intended as a place of refuge in case of being com- pelled to retreat from Jamestown. The want of provisions prevented the 'completion of this work, and proved a serious interruption to all work of improvement. The majority of the settlers were too indolent to work if they could avoid it, and those who would work were, from the first, chiefly occupied in obtaining food, not only for themselves but the drones. Smith's new rules had secured a little more industry, but the provisions had been so wasted by rats and damaged by rains, that he was at last obliged to abandon all work, that the whole company might procure food, each for himself. Even then, of such worthless material was a large part of the colony composed, that they would rather starve than take the trouble of procuring food, except as a pastime. They murmured and became mutinous in the manifestations of their discontent, so that Smith arrested the ringleader, and ordered that whoever failed to provide daily as much food as he should consume should be banished from Jamestown as a drone. For some time the Indians supplied the colony daily with squirrels, turkeys, and deer, and corn was again bought from Powhatan; but at last it became necessary to distribute the settlers in different parts of the adjacent country, and compel them to procure their own subsistence. One party was sent down the river to live on oysters, another to fish at Point Com- A NEW PLAN FOR THE COLONT. fort, and still another up the James River in search of whatever they might find in the woods, while not a few were billeted among the Indians, where they led an indolent and vagrant life, which was prob- ably not distasteful to many of them. Meanwhile the Virginia Company in England, disappointed in their extravagant expectations of deriving immediate profit from -the settle- ment at Jamestown by the discovery of gold or a passage to the South Sea, determined to take a new departure. They added to the number of their stockholders, and obtained a new charter from the king repealing the old charter, and conferring ampler powers and privileges and a more extensive grant of territory. This charter provided for a govern- ment vested in a governor and captain-general, whose authority was nearly absolute, as he was granted arbitrary power, and authorized to declare martial law. Thomas, Lord Delaware, was appointed to this office, Sir Thomas Gates was appointed lieutenant-governor, and Sir George Somers admiral. Certain leading men were also appointed councillors, though with little authority. Under this government the colony was to be reorganized and much increased in numbers. Nine vessels were fitted out to carry five hundred emigrants, some of whom were women, and an ample supply of provisions and other stores. Newport, who had already made several voyages to Virginia, was placed in command of this fleet, and Gates and Somers were to go with it, while Lord Delaware was to embark at a later period. Newport, Gates, and Somers were each authorized, whichever arrived first at Jamestown, to supersede the existing authorities, and take command until the arrival of Lord Delaware; but being unable to settle the point of precedence among themselves, they embarked in the same vessel, the Sea Venture. The fleet sailed from Plymouth in May, 1609, and when within about eight days' sail of Virginia, it encountered a hurricane which dismasted some of the ships and crippled all. One small vessel was lost, and the Sea Venture, carrying the three leading men and a hundred and fifty emigrants, was separated from the rest. The other vessels, shattered by the storm, and having lost many of the passengers by sickness, and a large portion of the supplies, arrived in James River in August. When this fleet approached, Smith thought they were Spaniards, coming with hostile intent, and he prepared to resist them, the Indians offering to ! 4 2 JAMESTOWN AND CAPTAIN JOHN SMITH. assist him. He soon discovered, however, that they were English ships, bringing a re-enforcement of his countrymen for the colony. It would have been better, perhaps, had the fleet been a hostile one, for it brought the seeds of anarchy and ruin to a colony already in a state of mutiny. Captain Samuel Argall, who afterwards figured conspicuously in Vir- ginia, and who waged war upon the French settlements in Acadia, as related in a preceding page, had already arrived, and brought intelligence of the repeal of the charter under which the colony was established. This news had the effect of stirring up the evil elements in the settle- ment to insubordination and defiance of Smith's authority. Among the new arrivals came RatclifFe, Archer, and Martin, who had been sent to England on account of their mutinous conduct, and of the three hundred settlers who came with them the greater part were " profligate youths, sent from home to escape ill destinies," reckless adventurers, bankrupt traders, " decayed tapsters, and ostlers trade-fallen, the cankers of a calm world and long peace." The arrival of this evil company gave rise to new confusion and dis- order. RatclifFe and other self-constituted leaders, though they brought no commission with them, insisted on abrogating the old charter, and denying the authority of Smith, insolently undertook to usurp the gov- ernment. Disagreeing among themselves, and acting by no authority, they would one day claim that the new charter was in force, and another that the old one still governed, and by their continual change they encouraged the spirit of lawlessness, and involved the colony in com- plete anarchy. Disgusted with the folly and factiousness of these assuming lead- ers, who succeeded only in plunging the colony into anarchy, Smith would gladly have returned to England, leaving the settlers to whatever fate they might bring upon themselves. But as yet the old charter was not legally abrogated, and the commission for the establishment of a new government was in the hands of Gates, whose arrival was uncertain, and who, indeed, was supposed to have been lost at sea. To permit these insolent and troublesome leaders to usurp the authority which was still vested in him did not comport with his ideas of duty, and would surely and speedily ruin the colony. He determined, therefore, to assert his rights as president, and to put an end to the plots of the mischief- MUTINOUS SETTLERS. makers by arresting Ratcliffe, Archer, and others who were the ring- leaders. This he was able to do the more readily as the soldiers were attached to him as a gallant leader, and at his command would not have hesitated to kill any who opposed him; and afterwards, when these men again rebelled against him, while he was in a helpless condition, the soldiers begged for permission " to strike off their heads." When Smith's term as president expired (the position being held for one year only) he was succeeded by Martin, who, conscious of his incompetency, transferred all his powers to Smith. Having secured some degree of order at Jamestown, Smith went up the river to look after the colonists who had been sent thither under West. He found them established on low ground, liable to be inundated by a rise of the river, and " surrounded by many intolerable inconveniences," a site selected with less judgment even than Jamestown. He proposed that they should take possession of Powhatan's village, a short distance fur- ther down the river, which consisted of a number of cabins, affording comfortable shelter, and was well protected from Indian attacks by pal- isades, while near by the Indian fields of nearly two hundred acres were ready for cultivation. A messenger was despatched to Powhatan pro- posing a purchase, but whether a bargain was effected does not appear. The settlers, however, obstinately refused to remove to this more eligible situation, and became so mutinous and abusive that Smith landed and arrested the principal offenders; but having only five men with him, the prisoners were rescued, and he was compelled to retire to his pinnace. Here he remained some days, the Indians supplying him with food, for which kind office the mutinous settlers retaliated on them by plundering their cornfields, damaging their cabins, beating them, and even taking some of them prisoners. This of course aroused the spirit of revenge in the savages, and as soon as Smith set sail they made an attack on their persecutors, many of whom were killed. Smith's vessel had proceeded but a mile or two down the river when she ran aground, and the mutineers, now seized with a panic, came and agreed to submit to his orders. The most troublesome men were again arrested, and the others went and established themselves in Powhatan's abandoned village, a place well adapted for a permanent settlement, and which was named Nonsuch, as being " the strongest and most I44 JAMESTOWN AND CAPTAIN JOHN SMITH. delightful place in the country." West, however, who had chosen the other insalubrious place, would not admit the superiority of this, and the settlers, under his influence, soon returned to their first choice. Finding all further effort vain, Smith returned down the river in his boat, leaving the perverse settlers to their own devices. This was vir- tually the end of Smith's career in Virginia, for on the voyage down the river he was terribly wounded while asleep by the explosion of some gunpowder, which injured his eyes and burned his face, so that in his agony he plunged into the river, and was nearly drowned before his companions could rescue him. Returning to Jamestown, maimed and suffering, he again encoun- tered the factious and mutinous crew who had previously defied his authority and caused contention and anarchy, and one of his most bitter enemies, with cowardly insolence, presented a cocked pistol at him as he lay almost blind in his bed; but fortunately the fellow had not the courage or the brutality to fire. Called upon to surrender the pres- idency to Percy, Smith refused to do so; and it would have been of little avail, for Percy was in too feeble health to control a colony com- posed of such discordant materials, and already in a state of anarchy. Retaining the presidency nominally, he was unable, through his unfor- tunate condition, to exercise its powers, and at last, when a ship was ready to sail, he embarked for England, having been in Virginia a little more than two years. During those two eventful years he had been the saviour of the colony, which would have perished from the earth but for his capacity, foresight, and energy, as surely as had those earlier ones sent out by Sir Walter Raleigh. Having to deal with an exacting and greedy cor- poration in England, and a company of selfish adventurers and worth- less idlers in Virginia, his merits were recognized by neither. He was himself an adventurer, of a higher order, indeed, than any who came with him; he had been a soldier of fortune, and did not possess the rank which might have secured to him more respect and .higher hon- ors; but no one whom the company had been able to enlist in their service possessed equal qualifications for the difficult task of founding a colony in the new world. Restless and eager for adventure, he was accused of wandering too much, but he engaged in no expedition which SMITH'S RETURN TO ENGLAND. did not produce advantageous results. He repeatedly obtained by these expeditions the food which preserved the colonists from starvation, and by his daring energy saved them from massacre, while his explorations were of great and permanent value to those who came after him. He was, moreover, a brave and chivalrous gentleman, who demanded from his followers no exposure to hardship and danger, and no service which he was not willing to share. His loss to the settlement at Jamestown was the commencement of many woes. Smith never returned to Virginia. For four or five years he remained in retirement, and in 1614 made his first visit to New England, on the coast of which he made some explorations. The next year he embarked on a second voyage to the same shores, but was captured by a French squadron and carried to France, where he was accused of Argall's pirat- ical exploit, the destruction of the French settlement at Port Royal. At length, at much risk, he effected his escape, and returned to England. He afterwards devoted himself to writing several works on Virginia and New England, and an account of his own life and exploits. The Plym- outh Company conferred upon him the title of Admiral of New England, but it was to him only an empty title. For all his services in the cause of colonization, which were invaluable; for his discoveries, labors, and sacrifices, he received no recompense. In neither Virginia nor New England did he have "one foot of land, not even the house that he built, nor the ground that he cultivated with his own hands, nor even any content or satisfaction at all, while he beheld those countries bestowed upon men who neither could have them, nor even know of them, but by his descriptions." He died in London in 1631, and was buried in St. Sepulchre's Church. Famous for his remarkable exploits in his own day, it was left for subsequent generations to appreciate the true value of his services and character. NO. iv. 19 XV. VICISSITUDES AT JAMESTOWN. peninsula. Smith left Jamestown the colony numbered about five hundred, one hundred of whom were soldiers, who were now somewhat acquainted with the country and its savage inhabitants, a few were women, but the rest, un- fortunately, were mostly broken-down gentlemen, servants, worthless adventurers, and profligates. The settlement consisted of about fifty houses, of various degrees of com- fort, and was fortified with palisades at the neck of the For its defence and that of two or three other small forts there were twenty cannon, three hundred arquebuses or muskets, with a good supply of ammunition, and swords and pikes sufficient to arm most of those who could not have guns. The colony had also several horses, goats, and sheep, and five or six hundred swine, while in the river there were two or three vessels in which there were further sup- plies of provisions. It would seem that a colony of such numbers, so fairly supplied, and in a country capable of supporting all who might settle in it, would be able to maintain itself either against the hostility of poorly-armed savages, or against want and starvation. But unfortu- nately it had within itself the seeds of ruin incompetency in manage- ment, and a factious, mutinous crew of malcontents. Smith's departure was the signal for the Indians to commence attacks upon the settlers. They feared and respected him on account of his bravery and lofty bearing, but no one else had impressed them with either fear or friendship. Percy at first administered the government 146 SAD CONDITION OF THE COLONY. as president under the old charter, but, feeble in health, he was unable to contend with the factious and ambitious spirits around him, and they soon gained control of affairs. The supply of corn running low, West and Ratclirfe embarked with thirty men to procure more. Neither of these leaders was acquainted with the habits and characteristics of the Indians, and were in no respect capable of contending with the peculiar warfare of the savages. Led into an ambuscade by Powhatan, who had in vain attempted that game with Smith, Ratcliffe and his companions were slain, two only escaping, one of whom, a boy, was rescued by the still friendly Pocahontas, and was adopted into one of the tribes, and in after years rendered good service to the colonists as an interpreter. Constant hostilities after the Indian fashion followed; whoever was caught away from the settlement was shot with arrows or brained with the tomahawk; whatever the Indians could lay their hands on was carried off. There was no one capable of organizing resistance and inflicting punishment, or of enforcing any sort of discipline among the settlers which would secure their safety. While some of the natives indulged in these hostile acts, others traded with the colonists with little or no restraint. They came into the settlement and helped devour the stores, while the shiftless idlers bartered swords, guns, and ammu- nition for small quantities of food. There seems to have been no attempt to obtain any common store of food, and, with the country filled with hostile Indians, none could well be made except by such a bold and skilful leader as Smith. Nor was any earnest effort made to punish and overawe the savage tribes. O The public stores were at last exhausted, and want together with malaria brought on a fatal sickness, which rapidly reduced the numbers of the settlers. They were indeed in a starving condition, and that unhappy period was long afterwards known as "the starving time." They subsisted on roots, herbs, acorns, and nuts, and were glad to devour dogs, cats, rats, snakes, and the skins of horses after the flesh had been consumed. They resorted even to cannibalism; the body of an Indian was disinterred and eaten, and even the dead bodies of their comrades were said to have furnished them food. One man murdered his wife; and such was the terrible state of affairs that he pleaded cannibalism to escape starvation as a palliation of the crime. The colonists, however, I4 8 VICISSITUDES AT JAMESTOWN. spite of their experience of the fiercest cravings of hunger, did not admit the plea, which was in fact a pretence, and the murderer was put to death by being burned at the stake. All their miseries the unhappy settlers charged upon the neglect of the London Company, rather than, in any degree, upon their own want of industry, thrift, and foresight. They bitterly denounced the treasurer of the company, Sir Thomas Smith, for failing to send out adequate sup- plies j and when on one occasion the carcass of a mare which the Indians had killed was being cooked, they devoutly wished " that Sir Thomas was upon her back in the kettle." While the colony at Jamestown thus suffered from the savages, internal discord, and starvation, the Sea Venture, in which Newport, Gates, and Somers, with a hundred and fifty emigrants, had embarked, was a wreck on a reef of the Bermudas. Racked by the storm which had separated her from the rest of the fleet, she sprang a leak, and the water rose in her hold above two tiers of hogsheads, so that the crew and passengers were obliged to stand up to their waists in water baling out with buckets and kettles. For three days and nights they continued at this work without diminishing the depth of water, and at length, utterly exhausted, they indulged freely in wine, and resigned themselves to their fate. Sir George Somers, though advanced in years, had bravely and faithfully maintained his position on the quarter-deck, endeavoring by his skill to keep the ship upright, and to steer her on a course which might bring them to a haven. Still watching when the others had given up in despair, he at last descried land. The people, who had sunk in sleep, exhausted or stupefied by drink, were aroused by his cry of "Land," as if it were "a voice from heaven," and hurried on deck, scarcely cred- iting the announcement. Land was indeed within sight, and hope again succeeded to despair. All sail was spread that the distant shore might be reached, but soon the ship struck upon a reef, and then was lifted by the surges from rock to rock, till at last she was lodged in an upright position firmly upon the ledge. They were still far from the shore, but they had escaped the destruction with which each succeeding billow threatened them as it thumped the ship upon the rocks. A calm suc- ceeded, and taking to the boats, the entire company of upwards of one hundred and fifty was landed safely on the shore, nearly a league distant. WRECKED ON THE SUMMER ISLES. Great was their joy as they stepped upon the land, though it was an island hitherto avoided by all navigators, and was regarded by the superstitious sailors of that time as the desolate abode of demons. They had additional cause for thanksgiving when they found, instead of the desolation and terrors with which the place was invested by the wild stories of Spanish navigators, a delightful climate, luxuriant vegetation, and an abundance of game and fruits to supply them with food. They soon constructed slight houses or cabins thatched "with palmetto leaves, which afforded them all the shelter they required in so agreeable a climate, and they found 'little difficulty in procuring sufficient food. So pleasant was the change from the stormy sea, which had threatened them with destruction, to this land of beauty and plenty, that many of the company desired to remain there, and were unwilling even to con- template a further tempting of the perils of the sea to reach the less happy shores of Virginia. The leaders, however, did not share in these feelings, and devoted their energies to discover some means of reaching their destination, or of sending intelligence of their safety, and obtaining succor. The ship had yielded to the force of the waves, and gone to pieces. Portions of the wreck were strewn upon the shore, and were carefully preserved. The trees of Spanish cedar afforded timber that \vas easily wrought. Using the wreck as far as it would answer the purpose, and supplying its deficiencies with the cedar, they undertook to construct vessels which should carry them away from this pleasant island. First they constructed a deck over the long-boat, and despatched one of the mates of the ship, with eight men in it, to obtain succor in Virginia. But this boat was never heard of again, and the succor hoped for by some, and dreaded by others, was awaited in vain. As time passed, and all hope of hearing from these messengers vanished, Gates completed the construction of another vessel of about eighty tons. It was built from such timbers of the lost ship as could be used, together with cedar, wrought with much difficulty with their insufficient tools. Another smaller vessel was also built of cedar, with fastenings of wood, there being no iron to be had. These vessels were rigged with such ropes and spars as had been saved from the wreck, and when completed were duly named the " Patience " and " Deliver- ance." With such supplies as the island afforded, the whole company I , 5 VICISSITUDES AT JAMESTOWN. at length embarked on the loth of May, 1610, after having been on the island about nine months. During that time two children were born, one of whom, a daughter of John Rolfe, who afterwards married Poca- hontas, was christened by the name of Bermuda; the other child, a boy, was christened by the name of Bermudas. Six persons, including the wife of Sir Thomas Gates, had died. Some of the company were loath to leave a place where life was so pleasant and easy; but at last, being reconciled to the duty of finishing the voyage on which they had origi- nally embarked, all again ventured in the two frail barks "upon the sea which had proved so disastrous to them. Fortunately the weather was good, and encountering no storm, which would probably have caused the vessels to founder, in about two weeks they arrived in James River. Landing at Jamestown, they found only sixty miserable colonists surviving out of the five hundred whom Smith left there but six months before. Sir Thomas Gates, lieutenant-gov- ernor, landed on the 24th of May; and, the church-bell being rung, the surviving settlers and the new-comers were assembled, and after a solemn prayer by the chaplain who accompanied the new expedition, the commission of Gates was read, and Percy, the president under the former charter, feeble and scarcely able to stand, surrendered his author- ity. There were no rejoicings at the accession of the new government; the sick and half-starved settlers, though relieved at the prospect of supplies, were too miserable to make any demonstrations of joy, and the new-comers were too much shocked at the sad condition in which the colony was found. Jamestown was indeed in a fearful state; the palisades of the fort were torn down, the ports open, and the gates wrested from their hinges; many of the houses had been demolished and burned for fire-wood; the storehouse was empty; the burial-place was full of graves, and the survivors moved about feebly among the ruins of the settlement. It is surprising how rapidly the colonists had perished and the settlement gone to ruin; but under the utter incompetency with which affairs had been administered, and the anarchy which had prevailed, little else than destruction could be looked for. A sad prospect was before the new governor; and, indeed, the future looked as hopeless for the newly arrived as was the present for the old settlers. Under these circum- ARRIVAL OF LORD DELAWARE. stances Gates reluctantly determined to abandon the settlement, and to sail for Newfoundland, where he might receive succor from English fishing vessels, and be enabled to return to England. Preparations were at once made to carry out this purpose. The cannon and ordnance stores were buried near the gate of the fort, the houses stripped of what- ever it was worth while to carry away, and the flames would quickly have destroyed the houses themselves had not Gates, with a few gen- tlemen, restrained the people from setting them on fire. A parting volley was fired, and then all embarked in four pinnaces, the governor remaining on shore till the last to prevent any wanton destruction. Without regret the settlers left the spot where they had suffered so much of misery, and as the vessels dropped down the river, rejoiced in the hope that they would never again ascend it. Near the mouth of the James they anchored for the night, intend- ing the next morning to set sail for Newfoundland. When morning came they descried a boat approaching, which proved to be one sent by Lord Delaware, with despatches announcing that he had arrived off the mouth of the river with three ships, after a tedious voyage of three months. Though this intelligence was a disappointment to some who had hoped to escape from the wilderness and return to England, it was to most a great relief from the uncertainty which attended the per- ilous voyage they were about to undertake. Ample supplies were at hand, and new settlers to share their dangers and toils. Gates and his company accordingly returned up the river, and again took possession of the deserted settlement. The next day Lord Delaware's ships arrived, and on the following day he landed with his retinue and settlers, and was received with such honors as they could offer by Gates and his entire company. Lord Delaware, who was a pious and exemplary gen- tleman, fell on his knees and remained some time bowed in silent prayer. All then repaired to the dilapidated church, where services were performed, and an appropriate discourse was delivered by the chaplain who had accompanied Gates. The new governor addressed the people, and the colony was re-established under the new charter. Narrow indeed had been the escape of the colony from utter ruin. The arrival of Gates had saved the surviving settlers from starvation and probable massacre. His prudence had prevented the wanton de- I5 2 VICISSITUDES AT JAMESTOWN. struction of the fort and dwellings. A few hours' delay before sailing away for Newfoundland had brought in Lord Delaware's ships before it was too late to intercept the departing colonists. Lord Delaware, as governor and captain-general of Virginia, a title which was always thereafter given to the chief magistrate of the colony, was accompanied by a somewhat imposing suite. Besides the three high officers who had previously arrived, Sir Thomas Gates, the lieutenant-governor, Sir George Somers, admiral, and Captain Newport, vice-admiral, there came with the governor Sir Ferdinand Wayman, master of ordnance, Captain Holcroft, Captain Lawson, and other gen- tlemen who held some sinecure posts of honor. The council under the new charter consisted of the principal officers above named, and Mr. Strachey was the secretary or recorder. The new governor was a man of energy and discretion, and he at once began the work of restoring the settlement. Discipline and in- dustry were enforced as the first requisites, and hours of labor were prescribed which were no very severe tax upon the strength of the colonists, being from six o'clock to ten in the morning, and from two to four in the afternoon. The forts were first repaired, and the cannon disinterred and remounted; houses which had been torn down were rebuilt; a better church was constructed on the site of the old one, and was by far the best building in the settlement. It was sixty feet long and twenty-four feet wide, with a chancel of cedar, a communion-table of walnut, pews of cedar, and wide windows with cedar shutters, " as also a pulpit with a font hewed out hollow like a canoe," and at one end were hung two bells. " The building was so constructed as to be very light within, and the lord governor and captain-general caused it to be kept passing sweet and trimmed up with divers flowers." Under the new administration, religious exercises were more carefully observed than they had previously been, and daily, at ten o'clock, when the morning labor was done, and again at four in the afternoon, when the day's work was finished, the people were summoned by the bells to attend prayers. On Sunday the full service of the church was per- formed, and two sermons were preached, and on Thursday another ser- mon was added to the daily service. All these exercises were attended by most of the people, though without that strict observance of the duty IMPROVED CONDITION OF THE COLONT. 153 which characterized the Puritan settlers of New England. The gov- ernor went to church in state on Sunday, being " accompanied by the councillors, officers, and all the gentlemen, with a guard of halberdiers in his lordship's livery, handsome red cloaks, to the number of fifty on each side and behind him." In the church he had his seat in the choir, in a grreen velvet chair, with a velvet cushion before him on which he O ' knelt, and on either side sat the council and officers. After the services he returned to his house, escorted in the same manner. This display suited the taste of most of the settlers perhaps better than the more simple habits of Captain Smith, but in this small settlement on the verge of the wilderness it was a most absurd transplanting of the pomp of courts. But, notwithstanding his splendid retinue and show of state, Lord Delaware was an energetic and able governor during the short period he remained in Virginia, and was a good friend of the colony. The leading men who held positions under the new charter did not long remain in the colony. Sir Ferdinand Wayman, master of ord- nance, died without being distinguished for anything more than his title and office. Sir George Somers sailed in his cedar vessel for the Ber- mudas, accompanied by Captain Argall in another vessel, to procure supplies. Argall was forced by adverse winds to put back, and returned to Jamestown; but Somers, in his frailer bark, succeeded in reaching his destination, where he soon after died. For a time the Bermudas were called the Somers Islands, which was soon corrupted into Sum- mer Isles, a name not inappropriate to their pleasant climate. Sir Thomas Gates, whose wife had died during their long detention at Ber- muda, and whose daughters had been sent back to England, returned there himself to report the condition of" the colony, and the events which had transpired. Lord Delaware, after placing Jamestown in a good condition for defence and comfort, procuring corn from the In- dians, and constructing two forts on the shores of the bay, where emi- grants might first land, also took his departure. He had suffered much from sickness, and, being in a feeble condition, embarked with Captain Argall and about fifty others for England, by way of the West Indies. Adverse winds drove them to the north, and they were driven to the mouth of the river which thence received the name of Delaware. The higher officers having gone, Lord Delaware left the colony NO. IV. 20 VICISSITUDES AT JAMESTOWN. again in charge of Captain Percy, a member of the council, but whose feeble health disqualified him for an energetic administration of affairs. Fortunately, however, the condition of the colony did not demand extraordinary prudence and capacity. The colonists numbered about two hundred, and were not disturbed by the factious leaders who had previously produced disorder and anarchy; the supply of provisions was sufficient to last ten months, and the neighboring tribes of Indians were peaceable, if not altogether friendly. Matters in the settlement, therefore, went on without serious disturbance from within or without until the following year, though the settlers relapsed into their old habits of idleness. When the council of the Virginia Company in England heard the accounts of the disasters which had fallen upon the colony, they were greatly discouraged. The prospect of profit was as distant as ever, and they seriously contemplated abandoning the enterprise and recalling the colonists. But Sir Thomas Gates, who arrived in England before a decision had been reached, strenuously opposed such a step, and made such representations that the company was again encouraged, and new measures were adopted to strengthen the colony. All the high officers with various titles having left the colony, a new title was created, and Sir Thomas Dale was appointed high marshal of Virginia, and endowed with almost supreme authority. With three vessels well laden with supplies, including cattle and swine, Dale sailed for Virginia, where he arrived in May, 1611. He was a military, man who had served in the Low Countries, and being intrusted with extraordinary military powers, as indicated by his title, he carried with him a code of military laws, some of which were barbarous and inhuman. When Dale arrived at Jamestown, he found the settlers busily en- gaged in their " usual occupation, playing at bowls in the streets." This did not accord with his notions of useful employment; and, making known his authority and promulgating some of his laws, he established military discipline, and set the men at work planting corn, felling trees, and providing material for enclosing a new town, which he proposed to build as soon as he could find a suitable site. There were too many indolent persons in the colony to submit cheerfully to the strict disci- pline of Dale's administration, and discontent and murmurs were fol- A NEW TOWN FOUNDED. lowed by open insubordination and disturbance. The high marshal accordingly exercised his authority, and enforced martial law with extreme rigor. Eight colonists were summarily tried by court martial for treasonable conspiracy, and, being found guilty, were executed in a cruel manner. These rigorous measures secured order, and probably nothing short of extreme severity would have succeeded. Though Dale was a strict disciplinarian, and administered an arbitrary code of laws, he was not vindictive, but was disposed only to be just, and the colonists were fortunate in having so fair-minded a despot. Dale's administration, however, did not continue long, for Sir Thomas Gates, who had labored earnestly in England for the good of the colony, arrived in August of the same year, with six vessels, bringing three hun- dred more colonists, and abundant supplies. Gates was commissioned anew to take charge of the colony, and Dale not unwillingly took a subordinate position, in which he was permitted to carry out his cher- ished purpose of founding a new settlement. The site selected for this -new town was a peninsula about twelve miles below the falls of the James, formed by a bend in the river, which, after making a circuit of about seven miles, returns within one hundred and twenty yards of the starting-point. An artificial channel or cut-off across this narrow neck of the peninsula has since been famous under the name of " Dutch Gap." With three hundred men, Dale established himself at this favor- able point and founded a town, which was named Henrico, in honor of the king's eldest son, Prince Henry. Across the neck of the penin- sula, from water to water, a strong palisade and breastwork was con- structed for defence, and within this three streets were laid out, on which were built some well-framed houses, a good church, storehouses, and other buildings. On the river banks were five houses, in which lived " the honester sort of people," and kept watch, for the town's secu- rity. Back from the town another palisade was erected, nearly two miles in length from bank to bank of the bend, enclosing the fields for cultivation. While Dale was still at work upon his new settlement, the Appo- mattox Indians committed some depredations, for which he led a force against them, and captured their town near the mouth of the Appomattox River, and about five miles from Henrico. Pleased with the situation, he VICISSITUDES AT JAMESTOWN. established another plantation there, and called it Bermudas,- a name still preserved in the more recent one of Bermuda Hundred. Dale had a penchant for laying out new settlements, and he selected the sites of several others, which were subsequently occupied, and under his favorite code of martial law each was subjected to the control of a captain. These settlements were all enclosed by palisades, some of them of great extent, and houses were erected within the enclosure. Dale thus accom- plished much more than had previously been done for the settlement of the country. Meanwhile Jamestown also improved. Two rows of frame houses and three large storehouses were built, and on the fertile peninsula there were cultivated fields and gardens, showing a more pros- perous condition of affairs than had hitherto existed. Forty miles below Jamestown, at Kiquotan, another plantation was established, where the settlers planted some small fields of corn, and enjoyed an abundance of fish and wild fowl. The system of cultivating common fields and being provided for out of the public store, though unavoidable at first, had the effect to par- alyze industry and retard the growth of the colony. Sir Thomas Dale wisely introduced a different system by allotting to each man three acres of cleared land to be cultivated for his own benefit, and from which he was required to contribute to the public store only two and a half barrels of corn. This measure, which created a new incentive to indus- try and independence, proved highly acceptable to the settlers and ben- eficial to the colony. Subsequently, in 1615, a more important step was taken in the establishment of individual property in the soil, the charter company granting to each freeman fifty acres of land in absolute right. This measure was also brought about through the influence of Sir Thomas Dale, who proved himself a wise ruler and earnest friend of the colony. During Dale's administration, however, Captain Argall achieved some exploits which were not so creditable, though characteristic of the age. It was at this time that Argall captured the Jesuit company as they were about making a settlement near the mouth of the Penobscot, and destroyed the settlement at Port Royal, an account of which has been given in previous pages. One account states that this expedition of Argall was sent out by Dale, who looked upon the French settlements SUCCESS OF DALE'S EFFORTS. 157 as an encroachment upon the territory of Virginia. Another declares that Argall, while sailing along the shores of Cape Cod, first learned from the Indians there that the French had settlements at the north; and having captured the party on the island of Mount Desert, he re- ceived information about the settlement at Port Royal from the Jesuit Biard, whose hatred of Biencourt prompted the treachery towards his countryman. Sir Thomas Dale, after a stay of five years in Virginia, during which he had done much for the permanent establishment and welfare of the colony, returned to England in the spring of 1616, taking with him John Rolfe and his wife Pocahontas, with several other Indians. The condition of affairs was better than at any previous period. Health pre- vailed; order and industry had taken the place of confusion and idleness; peace had been secured with most of the Indian tribes, and free trade readily obtained from them what commodities they had to spare. Dale could carry home with him a good account of his stewardship. XVI. POCAHONTAS. O incidents in the history of the association of Europeans with the Indian race have awakened so tender an inter- est and so complete admiration as the story of Pocahon- tas. The daughter of the chief Powhatan, who was regarded by the English as the "king" or "emperor" of the neighboring tribes, she was called a princess, and the admiration which she excited in Smith and the first settlers was enhanced by that title and the position which she was supposed to occupy among her people. The same sentiment has come down through succeeding generations, and has become more deeply tinged with romance as the days of the dusky heroine have receded into a more remote past, and her story engages the attention chiefly of the young, whose feelings are most easily touched by such a recital, and whose imaginations clothe her with surpassing beauty and virtues. Let not the stern iconoclast destroy the beautiful image! There is enough of truth in the romantic story to preserve it for all time. When first introduced to the knowledge of the English she was said to be twelve or thirteen years of age; but as she was always small of stature, she might have been somewhat older, and as the In- dian youth were more precocious than the whites, she was perhaps more mature than her apparent age indicated. More comely than most of the Indian girls, the romance which surrounds her has made her beautiful. That she possessed traits unusual in savage maidens gentleness and mercy there can be no doubt, and her constancy in friendship and love was abundantly proved. 158 SHE PLEADS FOR SMITH'S LIFE. Captain Smith, after being captured, was carried from village to vil- lage, exciting the wonder of the natives, until at last he was brought to Werowocomoco, on the banks of the river York, the favorite res- idence of the great chief Powhatan. Here, in his spacious lodge, upon a raised platform cushioned with furs, the chief sat in state, attended by two of his women. Before him, in the centre of the lodge, burned a generous fire, and along each side were seated his warriors, and behind them stood a crowd of women. Into the midst of this assembly Smith was brought, and seated near the fire. His coming was greeted with a fearful yell, the meaning of which was as much a mystery to the captive as he was to the natives, who gazed at him with wonder not unmixed with savage fear and jealousy. Among those who looked with deepest curiosity and interest on the bearded stranger were the favorite children of Powhatan, his daughter Pocahontas and his son Nantaquaus, a youth a little older than the girl, whom Smith describes as " the man- liest, comeliest, boldest spirit I ever saw in a savage." These children, who doubtless enjoyed privileges not permitted to those of less degree, manifested their interest by a close examination of the captive, and some little savage courtesies which he thankfully acknowledged. The occasion was a grand council which was to determine the .fate of the prisoner, and the deliberations were preceded, as usual, by a feast, at which none were better served than he who was pretty sure to be condemned to death. The feast being over, the matter in hand was considered in the usual deliberate manner of The Indians. Harangues, accompanied sometimes with fierce gestures, were made and listened to with ominous grunts of satisfaction. Pocahontas and Nantaquaus, watch- ing the speakers with the closest attention, soon found that the wonder- ful stranger was doomed to death, and they earnestly entreated their father to save him. That appeal was in vain, for the jealousy of the haughty sachem was aroused, and he feared the coming of a mightier chief than himself. The fate of the prisoner was sealed, and preparations were at once made to carry the sentence into execution. But when the fatal stones were brought in, and Smith's head was laid upon them, and with a savage delight a stalwart Indian was preparing to deal the fatal blow with his ponderous club, Pocahontas, finding her entreaties vain, forced her way to the intended victim, and throwing herself beside him, !6o POCAHONTAS. laid her head upon his, declaring by her act, if not by words, that they should slay her first. This brave act of the chief's daughter produced a mighty effect upon the savages. The arms raised to strike the fatal blow dropped powerless, and a murmur of amazement ran through the assembly. Such an appeal, enforced by a spirit of self-sacrifice, together with the mysterious character of the white stranger, impressed the super- stitious natives with awe. Powhatan saw with alarm the momentary danger in which his favorite child was placed by her devotion, and declared that the captive's life should be spared. He was permitted to rise, and was assured of his safety. Such was the change wrought in the feelings or policy of the natives by the heroic action of Pocahontas, that they not only spared the prisoner's life, but determined to send him back to Jamestown. During the brief period that elapsed before he set out on his return, it may well be imagined that Smith expressed his grateful admiration of the preserver of his life in no doubtful manner, spite of his ignorance of her language. Thus he made a still deeper impression on her heart, and thenceforth she was devoted to him with a love and reverence that were proof against the influence of her father, and a barrier to his treachery. When he departed, he felt assured that he had one friend, at least, among the savages. It was not long after Smith's return to Jamestown before Pocahontas, with her attendants, visited the settlement, bringing corn and other gifts as a token of her friendship and the good will of her father, whom she seems to have influenced in favor of the strangers. These visits were frequently repeated, and she thus brought food, which saved the mis- erable settlers from absolute want. It was a long journey for the young girl. Crossing the River York in canoes, with her attendants she trav- elled on foot many weary miles through the wilderness, carrying her burden of corn, venison, and turkeys, and receiving a hearty welcome from Smith and his comrades, and such gifts as pleased the untutored taste of the Indians. The wild performance with which she and her train of Indian girls entertained Smith and his companions while they awaited the arrival of Powhatan, has been described in a preceding page. It was conceived and carried out with a view to please the strangers, and when the mad POCAHONTAS AND SMITH. I 6i shrieks of the entertainers alarmed the guests, who were unused to bar- barian plays, Pocahontas alone reassured them by her earnest declaration that they might slay her if any surprise was intended. Such faith had Smith in her friendship, that her simple word was sufficient to allay all fears of treachery. And well might he, if not the others, have confi- dence in her who, at the risk of her own life, had saved his. A little later, it was again at the risk of her life that she warned him of a contemplated attack by Powhatan's followers while he and his com- panions slept in an Indian cabin. Secretly leaving her father's lodge, where she had heard the plot arranged, with a fleet foot she ran through the forest, in danger of being discovered by the watchful savages who were preparing for the attack. Entering the cabin, she told Smith of the contemplated attack, and with tears in her eyes besought him to fly before the deadly assault should be made. With remarkable pru- dence, -she declined to receive any token of thanks, lest it should be seen, and her errand of mercy be discovered. Savage disappointment would have visited vengeance on her head, though she was the great chiePs favorite daughter, were it known that she had betrayed the secrets of her people. Silently she again passed through the forest, and returned unnoticed to her rude couch, and the intended victims were saved. The friendship manifested by Pocahontas for the English was evi- dently on Smith's account. She had conceived for him a strong attach- ment from the first. It would have been contrary to his chivalric nature if he had not felt a tender interest in her. The nature of this mutual attachment was not understood by some of the coarser-minded settlers, and doubtless Smith was sometimes rallied by his comrades on account of his Indian love. In later times, imagination has framed romantic tales of the tender relations which existed between the adven- turous Englishman and the savage maiden. The small stone fort, which Smith partially constructed some miles away from Jamestown, has been supposed to have been intended for a safe retreat for the lovers, alike from English settlers and from Indian warriors. The youth of Poca- hontas, the difference in their ages, and Smith's character, render such romantic fancies absurd. Whatever might be the nature of the feelings of Pocahontas towards Smith, his regard for her was not that of a lover. NO. v. 21 162 POCAHONTAS. Smith was not the only one of the settlers whom Pocahontas directly rescued from death, while her action and influence doubtless indirectly saved many, if not all, of them from massacre. When Ratcliffe, after Smith's departure from the colony, was inveigled into an ambuscade, and with thirty of his men was slain by the followers of Powhatan, among his company was a boy named Henry Spilman. This youth would have shared the fate of the others had not Pocahontas interfered and saved his life. He was detained a prisoner, adopted into an Indian family, and carried away to the banks of the Potomac, where he lived among the natives for many years. He acquired the Indian language, and afterwards did the settlers good service as an interpreter. Having rejoined his countrymen, his long sojourn with the Indians did not save him from their hostility, and he was killed by them in 1622. When Pocahontas learned that Smith had left the colony, she ceased to visit Jamestown. He was the only one for whom she cared, and when he left, nothing was heard of her for a long time. It seems she went to dwell with some of her race on the banks of the Potomac, where the sight of the English was not likely to remind her of the friend who had deserted her. But about two years after Smith left, Captain Argall sailed up the Potomac to trade for corn. Learning from Japazaws, a friendly chief, that Powhatan's favorite daughter was in that region, he bribed the treacherous native to betray the unsus- pecting girl into his hands, his intention being to hold her as a hostage for the good behavior of Powhatan, who had long been hostile, and to exchange her for some English prisoners and arms then held by the Indians. When Pocahontas discovered the treachery of Japazaws, and that she was held as a prisoner by those whom she had so faithfully befriended, she wept bitterly, as well she might, at the perfidy of the chief, and the ingratitude of the English. Sending a messenger to Pow- hatan, to inform him that his favorite daughter was a prisoner and must be ransomed by the delivery of all the Englishmen and arms in his possession, Argall carried her to Jamestown. Three months afterwards, Powhatan, who seemed in no haste to rescue his daughter, restored seven prisoners and some damaged guns, and sent word that if his daughter was released he would make restitution for all the injuries he had inflicted, give the colonists five hundred baskets of corn, and for- A PRISONER AT JAMESTOWN. ever remain in peace and amity. Having little confidence in the good faith of the chief, the English refused to surrender Pocahontas till full satisfaction was rendered. Greatly offended at this demand, Powhatan refused for a long time to have any intercourse with the settlers. At length Sir Thomas Dale went up the York River with several small vessels, carrying a hundred and fifty men, and taking the captive girl with him. Arriving at Wer- owcomoco, once Powhatan's favorite residence, but now abandoned by him, the English were met with a scornful defiance from the Indian warriors, and landing a strong party, they burned the cabins and destroyed the poor possessions of the natives. They then proceeded farther up the river to Matchot, another residence of Powhatan, where several hundred warriors were assembled, apparently to attack the intruders. The English landed, and the natives, in wholesome fear of fire-arms, asked for a truce till Powhatan could be heard from, a request which was readily granted. While waiting for the great chief's decision, two of his sons went on board the vessel to see their sister Pocahontas. It had been reported among the Indians that she was sick and ill-treated; but finding that she was well, the young chiefs were greatly pleased, and promised to persuade their father to make peace and forever be friends with the English. John Rolfc and another Englishman were sent to communicate to Powhatan the willingness of the English to mak^e peace and exchange prisoners. The old chief, suspicious of the purpose of the visitors, or disp.osed to show his displeasure towards the English, refused to admit them to his presence, though they were hospitably entertained. They saw his brother, however; and that chief, who was a renowned warrior, promised to use his influence with Powhatan to secure peace. This was more readily promised than accomplished; and as no progress was made towards a treaty, and it was now planting-time, Dale returned to James- town, determined to wait till after the harvest before renewing hostilities and compelling a peace. Pocahontas was carried back again, and through her a more cordial peace was at last established. During her long stay at Jamestown, Pocahontas had adopted the habits and manners of civilized life. She was an object of deep inter- est, and the few women of the colony had not spared their efforts to POCAHONTAS. minister to her material and spiritual welfare. She was clothed after the manner of English women, and she renounced the idolatry of her nation, and was baptized as a convert to Christianity under the name of Re- becca. She was now about eighteen years of age, of comely form, nat- urally graceful carriage, and with features more refined than was usual in girls of her race. Under these circumstances it was not strange that there should be young men in the colony, where there were no mar- riageable women, who should be attracted towards the interesting cap- tive. Whether more than one thought seriously of her, does not appear; but John Rolfe, a young man of good position, who had lost his wife either at Bermuda or since his arrival at Jamestown, fell in love with her, and by his attentions and kindness won her regard. Had Smith been there, it is quite probable that Pocahontas would never have been won by another, for he occupied the first place in her heart. But she had been informed that he was dead, and Rolfe assented to, if he did not originate, the false report. Perhaps he had learned enough of her sentiments to lead him to believe that he had no hope of winning her heart if she knew that Smith was living, and there was a possibility of meeting him again. Whatever the motive, she was made to believe that the man for whose life she had twice risked her own was dead, and in that belief she listened with favor to Rolfe's declarations of love. Laying the matter before Sir Thomas Dale, the governor, Rolfe pro- posed to marry Pocahontas, and the governor, seeing no objection to such a step, and believing that it would be the means of securing the lasting friendship of Powhatan, gave it a hearty approval. Pocahontas informed her brother of the affair, and it was soon announced to Pow- hatan, who, from like motives of policy, gave his " royal " consent to the proposed union. Still unwilling or not condescending to visit James- town, he sent an aged uncle of Pocahontas and her two brothers to attend the wedding and to represent him on the occasion. The marriage took place at Jamestown in April, 1613. The few women in the settlement of course took a lively interest in the occa- sion, and in the preparation of the bride for the ceremony. She was accordingly arrayed in such appropriate costume as their limited ward- robes supplied, and her native simplicity and modesty were ornaments more attractive than costly jewels. The ceremony was performed in n 4 u p. Q Z 4 u "5 HER MARRIAGE AND VISIT TO ENGLAND. 165 the church, where were assembled the governor and all the principal people among the colonists, together with the uncle and brothers of Pocahontas, and other Indians, men and women, who had come into the town to witness the strange proceedings. The bride and groom knelt before the altar, the clergyman in his robes read the marriage service of the English church, the responses were duly made, the wedding-ring put on, and the marriage, which has become memorable in history, was concluded. Festivities followed, and the representatives of Powhatan, highly delighted, promised perpetual amity with the English. For three years Rolfe and his Indian wife remained in Virginia, and then, in 1616, accompanied Sir Thomas Dale to England, where Poca- hontas attracted great attention. She then spoke English intelligibly, and her manners had become refined by associating with gentlewomen, and as she was the daughter of a great chief, or king, she received the courteous treatment considered to be due to her rank as a princess, although her husband was an untitled and needy gentleman. At the time of the arrival of Pocahontas in England, Smith was pre- paring to sail for New England. Remembering with gratitude her de- votion to him, and fearing he might not be able personally to render her any service while she was in England, he addressed a memorial to the queen, in which he prayed her majesty's favor towards- the savior of his life in eloquent terms, as follows: " So it was, That about ten years ago, being in Virginia, and taken prisoner by the power of Powhatan, their chief king, I received from this great savage exceeding great courtesy, especially from his son Nan- taquaus, the manliest, comeliest, boldest spirit I ever saw in a savage; and his sister Pocahontas, the king's most dear and well-beloved daugh- ter, being but a child of twelve or thirteen years of age, whose com- passionate, pitiful heart of my desperate estate gave me much cause to respect her. I being the first Christian this proud king and his grim attendants ever saw, and thus inthralled in their barbarous power, I cannot say I felt the least occasion of want that was in the power of those my mortal foes to prevent, notwithstanding all their threats. After some six weeks' fatting amongst these savage countries, at .the minute of my execution she hazarded the beating out of her own brains to save mine; and not only that, but so prevailed with her father, that I was safely conducted to Jamestown. . . . !66 POCAHONTAS. " Such was the weakness of this poor commonwealth, as had not the savages fed us we directly had starved. And this relief, most gracious Queen, was commonly brought us by this lady, Pocahontas; notwith- standing all these passages when unconstant fortune turned our peace to war, this tender virgin would still not spare to dare to visit us, and by her our jars have been oft appeased, and our wants supplied. Were it the policy of her father thus to employ her, or the ordinance of God thus to make her his instrument, or her extraordinary affection for our nation, I know not; but of this I am sure, when her father, with the utmost of his policy and power, sought to surprise me, having but eighteen with me, the dark night could not affright her from coming through the irksome woods, and, with watered eyes, give me intelli- gence, with her best advice to escape his fury, which had he known he had surely slain her. "Jamestown, with her wild train she as freely frequented as her father's habitation; and during the time of two or three years, she, next under God, was still the instrument to preserve this colony from death, famine, and utter confusion. . . . "As yet I never begged anything of the state, and it is my want of ability and her exceeding desert; your birth, means, and authority; her birth, virtue, want, and simplicity, doth make me thus bold humbly to beseech your majesty to take this knowledge of her, though it be from one so unworthy to be the reporter as myself, her husband's estate not being able to make her fit to attend your majesty." This petition had the effect to make the " Indian princess " known not only to the queen, but to the court and the general public, and she became an object of much curiosity as well as hospitable attention. She was presented at court by Lady Delaware, and was received with spe- cial kindness by the king and queen, while her " modest, dignified, and graceful deportment excited the admiration of all." She was called " Lady Pocahontas," and we are told by contemporary writers that she carried \ herself "as the daughter of a king." The nobility, encouraged by the queen, paid marked attention to her, and she was entertained at a series of masquerades, balls, plays, and festivities by many of the most prom- inent persons at court, including the Bishop of London. Many people, also, of various grades, called to pay their respects and gratify their curi- INTERVIEW WITH SMITH. 167 osity, and declared that " they had seen many English ladies worse favored, proportioned, and behaviored." Smith did not leave London before the arrival of Pocahontas, as he feared he might; and while she was staying at Brentford, to avoid the smoke and din of the city, he went to see her. His appearance affected her deeply. After a hasty recognition she turned away, and, without ut- tering a word, buried her face in her hands. In this position and mood she remained for a long time, thus manifesting, after the manner of her race, her sense of injury and grief. This was before Pocahontas was presented to the queen; and Smith, attributing her silence to want of words to express her feelings, says that he regretted he had represented that she could speak English. At length, however, she began to talk, and reminded Smith of the kindness she had shown him in her own country. * You did promise Powhatan," she said, "what was yours should be his, and he the like to you; you called him father, being in his land a stranger, and for the same reason so I must call you." Smith declined to be called "father" for fear it might provoke the anger of the king, who was always jealous of the royal prerogative, and as she was " a king's daughter " would claim the appellation himself. It is said, and probably Smith had heard the report, that King James was at first greatly offended that Rolfe, a commoner, should presume to marry a princess without the royal con- sent, but upon a fuller representation of the matter he had expressed himself as satisfied. Smith might reasonably suppose, therefore, that the king's absurd jealousy of his prerogative would object to one of his sub- jects being called " father " by that same princess. Pocahontas, however, was not willing to abandon the name which she had long ago given to Smith, and looking at him steadily, she said, "You were not afraid to come into my father's country and cause fear in him and all his people but me, and fear you here that I should call you father ? I tell you then I will, and you shall call me child, and I will be forever and ever your country- woman. They did tell us always you were dead, and I knew not other- wise till I came to Plymouth." Whether the feelings which Pocahontas entertained towards Smith had always been those of filial affection, as indicated by these expressions, there were those who doubted; and it is not improbable that she was told POCAHONTAS. that he was dead because she had shown so strong an interest in him. But whatever may have been the nature of her affection for Smith, his regard for her was inspired by the purest gratitude and honor, and there is noth- ing authentic to show that he ever expressed to her or others any different emotion, or in any way encouraged her to think that he regarded her other than a child, to whom, indeed, he owed the deepest gratitude as the savior of his life. He had never played the lover to her, as perhaps Rolfe and others had imagined, and some romantic stories told long afterwards con- cerning them were mere fancies, conceived perhaps to immortalize certain pleasant localities. If the interview was at first painful to Pocahontas, it ended more happily. They parted as friends, and Smith had no reason to reproach himself with deceiving or neglecting her, since it was chiefly through his instrumentality that she had received the kindly attentions of people of high position. While in England Pocahontas gave birth to a son, an event which was deemed of some importance to the colony in Virginia as a further pledge of peace between her nation and the settlers. The Virginia Company made provision for the maintenance of mother and child, and Rolfe pre- pared to return to Jamestown with them, after a stay in England of about a year. Pocahontas was reluctant to return, dreading perhaps the perils of the sea and the sickness which she had experienced on the voyage out. From the time when her departure was determined upon she seemed de- spondent, as if foreboding some evil, and on the eve of embarkation she sank under a fatal malady, and died at Gravesend in the latter part of March, 1617, " leaving a spotless name, and dwelling in memory under the form of perpetual youth." She was buried in the chancel of Gravesend Church, which a hundred years later was destroyed by fire, and no mon- ument to her memory remains, if any ever existed. The infant son of Pocahontas, Thomas Rolfe, remained in England, though his father returned at once to Virginia. He was educated by his uncle, and afterwards went to Virginia, where he had a grant of lands, and became a man of wealth and note in the colony. His descendants were among the distinguished families of Virginia, who thus claim a descent from one who was the " daughter of a king," and who, in truth, displayed the virtues that became a princess. XVII. ARGALL.-A NEW CHARTER. -INTRODUCTION OF SLAVES-IMPORTATION OF WIVES. HEN Sir Thomas Dale returned to England, Captain George Yeardley was appointed deputy governor during his absence. The condition of affairs was such that the deputy governor found little difficulty in administering them. The only trouble he had with the Indians was with the Chickahominies, who at this time refused to observe a treaty which they had previously made, and to pay the tribute of corn required by it. Yeardley con- ducted a force of a hundred men against the refractory savages, and, after "killing some and making some prisoners," brought off much of their corn. With the other natives the English were now on friendly and familiar terms, and gradually ceased to feel the necessity for the protection of fortifications. They had already been distributed among six or seven different settlements, which contained from twenty-five to one hundred inhabitants, the total number being three hundred and fifty. From the settlements or towns they soon began to occupy outlying plantations wherever they could take up fertile land for cultivation. Yeardley directed the attention of the settlers to the cultivation of tobacco, which was becoming much used in England, and was by far the most profitable article of commerce that they could produce. It soon became the staple production of the colony, and has ever since maintained its importance as a chief source of wealth to colony and state. Engaged in the cultivation of the plantations allotted them, the NO. v. 22 169 170 ARC ALL. colonists neglected the common settlements, and suffered them to go to decay; and when, in 1617, Argall who, by the intrigues of unscru- pulous friends in the Virginia Company, was appointed deputy governor and admiral arrived at Jamestown, he found there but five or six hab- itable houses,* the church fallen, and a storehouse used for religious services instead, the palisades broken, and the streets and market-place, and all vacant ground, planted with tobacco. Excessive attention to the cultivation of tobacco, indeed, led to a scarcity of corn; but Argall, who was a man of energy, by trade with the Indians secured the necessary supply of that important commodity. Argall was energetic in promoting his own profit as well as in the administration of affairs. Coming invested with powers to enforce mar- tial law more arbitrarily than Dale had been, unlike that prudent gov- ernor he exercised his powers to the utmost limit, and in a despotic way, seeking to enrich himself by extortion and oppression. He decreed, among other things, that tobacco should be rated at a fixed value of three shillings, and whoever rated it either higher or lower should be subjected to three years' slavery to the colony; that there should be no trade or intercourse with the Indians, and that none of them should be taught the use of fire-arms under the penalty of death to both teacher and learner; that no man should fire a gun before a new supply of ammunition arrived, on pain of a year's slavery; that no one should hunt deer or hogs without his leave. The Puritans are considered stern in their measures to secure attendance at " meeting," but they were not more severe nor quite so arbitrary as was Argall in enforcing the vir- tue of church-going. His edict was, that absence from church on Sun- days or holidays should be punished by confinement for the night and one week's slavery to the colony; for the second offence, slavery for a month; and for the third, slavery for a year and a day. While many of his regulations were wise, and calculated to promote the welfare of the colony, the penalties for offences were often excessive and barbarous, and as he enforced them with characteristic energy, he became an odious and intolerable tyrant. Some of the colonists sent a report of Argall's oppressive proceed- ings to England, and some of the members of the council of the London * Many of the houses were of very slight construction, and when neglected soon went to ruin. ARC ALL'S TYRANNY. Company addressed to him a letter reciting a s'eries of charges against him for dishonesty, corruption, and oppression. Another letter was addressed to Lord Delaware, who had previously sailed with another party of emigrants for Virginia, but who, with thirty others, had died on the passage. In this letter the writer said that such was the indig- nation of the stockholders in the Company against Argall, that they could hardly be restrained from going to the king, although he was on a dis- tant journey, and procuring his Majesty's command for recalling him as a malefactor. Lord Delaware was also directed to seize all the goods and property in Argall's possession. This letter, in consequence of Lord Delaware's death, came to the hands of Argall as deputy governor. Knowing that his career was drawing to a close, he determined to im- prove the time before he should be superseded, and he accordingly increased his extortions and grew more tyrannical than ever. His un- scrupulous conduct is shown by his removal of the servants from Lord Delaware's estate without any authority to do so, and employing them on his own land; and his tyranny is exhibited in his treatment of Ed- ward Brewster, the steward of Lord Delaware, who had been left in management of the property, and was a man of good repute. Brewster endeavored to make the servants return, and upon the refusal of one of them to do so he threatened him with the consequences of his con- tumacy. Argall immediately ordered Brewster to be arrested on a charge of sedition and mutiny, and tried by a court-martial, by whom he was speedily convicted and condemned to death. Shocked at their own act, however, some of the members of the court joined with the clergy and interceded for his pardon, which Argall reluctantly granted on condition that Brewster should leave Virginia under an oath never to return, and never to "say or do anything to. the disparagement of the deputy gov- ernor." Repudiating the obligation of an oath extorted under duress, Brewster, on reaching England, appealed to the Company, and exposed more fully Argall's corrupt and tyrannical conduct. Captain George Yeardley was now appointed governor and captain- general of Virginia (1619), and was knighted, the better to qualify him for the place, perhaps, by securing to him more respect from the colo- nists. Before the new governor arrived, Argall, having made the most of his opportunities, loaded a vessel with his effects and sailed for 172 A NEW CHARTER. England, where, being a relative of Sir Thomas Smith, the treasurer of the Company, he was never called to account. He left Captain Na- thaniel Powell, who had come over with Smith, as his deputy, who, however, held his office only ten days before the arrival of Yeardley with a new charter for the colony, and a number of new settlers. The new charter provided for a legislative assembly composed of " burgesses " elected by the freemen of the several towns, plantations, and hundreds, which were styled " boroughs." The first assembly, which was also the first that ever met in America, was convened at James- town on the 3oth of July, 1619, and held its session in the choir of the church. It enacted laws for the government of the colony, and disposed of complaints for offences by voting such punishment as the case seemed "to require. Among the laws enacted were such as the following: "It shall be free for every man to trade with the Indians, servants only excepted upon pain of whipping, unless the master will redeem it off with the payment of an angel." " No man to sell or give any of the greater hoes to the Indians, or any English dog of quality, as a mastiff, greyhound, bloodhound, land or water spaniel." " Any man selling arms or ammunition to the Indians to be hanged so soon as the act is proved." All ministers " shall duly read divine service and exercise their minis- terial function according to the ecclesiastical laws of the Church of Eng- land, and every Sunday, in the afternoon, shall catechize such as are not ripe to come to the communion." " All persons whatsoever, upon the Sabbath days, shall frequent divine service and sermons, both forenoon and afternoon; and all such as bear arms shall bring their pieces, swords, powder, and shot." The Virginia colonists, it will be observed, though not so austere as the Puritans of New England, were not remiss in compelling attendance at church. In many other matters, however, they were not so particular in enforcing good morals. Measures were adopted for the maintenance of the new government by the colonists themselves. A large tract of land was appropriated to the governor; and to compen- sate the speaker, clerk, and officers of the assembly, a pound of the best tobacco was levied from every male above sixteen years of age. In August, 1619, occurred an event which is generally said to have had a far-reaching influence on the affairs not only of Virginia, but of other colonies, and the sequences of. which ultimately produced fearful INTRODUCTION OF SLAVES. 173 results in the states which succeeded the colonies. A Dutch man-of- war at that time visited Jamestown and sold to the settlers twenty ne- groes as slaves. This was the first introduction of negro slavery into the country; but this event is remarkable only as being the beginning of what would soon have come through other means. A kind of slavery, or enforced and unpaid service, already existed; and among a body of colonists, so many of whom looked upon labor as degrading, any oppor- tunity to secure labor for the now increasing plantations, and for the performance of menial service, was pretty likely to be improved. The condition of the white servants of the colony, many of them convicts, and rendering compulsory service, was so abject that chattel slavery was seemingly but a short step beyond. It was a step which any people of that age, under like circumstances, would not have hesitated to take. There was another arrival the same year, of far more immediate advantage, and of ultimate benefit rather than evil. The London Com- pany, under the wise and energetic management of the new treasurer, Sir Edwin Sandys, sent out upwards of twelve hundred additional em- igrants, and among the number were ninety marriageable women. " The people of Virginia had not been settled in their minds;" they had gone there to " make their fortunes " and return to England, very few of them looking upon the new country as their home. It was desirable that they should become attached to the soil, and held by ties that would preclude the idea of seeking homes elsewhere. The granting of land was one step towards this happy condition; it was necessary that they should have the society of women and the associations of family. Few women had yet dared to cross the Atlantic, but the affairs of the colony were at last in so fair a condition that Sir Edwin Sandys succeeded in inducing " ninety agreeable persons, young and incorrupt," to embark for the col- ony, where they were assured of a welcome and a prospect of honorable settlement in marriage. They were transported at the cost of the cor- poration; and, in anticipation of a sharp demand among such a number of unmarried men, a rule was established that none but those well able to support them should marry them, and that in every case the cost of transportation should be paid by the husband, it being fixed at a hun- dred and twenty pounds of tobacco. It may well be imagined that the arrival of these new emigrants 174 IMPORTATION OF WIVES. created an unusual excitement among the settlers. . When it was known and the news was quickly spread that ninety young women, candi- dates for wedlock, were on board the ships, the planters and others who had any desire for a wife hastened to Jamestown to take a view of the fair ones, and to select their mates. The rules of the Company, how- ever, were strictly applied, and the unfortunate wight who wanted a wife but had not the means to support one, was sent away disconsolate; and even the more fortunate man who had a house and plantation, must make or secure the payment of the hundred and twenty pounds of tobacco before he could take his chosen partner to the clergyman to be married. Doubtless there were some pretty hasty marriages which, under other circumstances, might have been followed by a leisurely repent- ance; but, on the whole, there was perhaps as reasonable good luck in these marriages as the parties would have had in England, with a wider choice. It is not to be supposed that the settler went with his proper weight of tobacco, and bought a wife as he might a piece of furniture. The consent of the woman was necessary, and the man must appear as a suitor, though probably the courtship was remarkably short. These women were confessedly in search of husbands, and, though said to be of good repute, they were not of a class to be fastidious, or to stand long on ceremony. It was not long before the entire number was disposed of, and the unfortunate bachelors cried for more. The adven- ture, which had been in part a mercantile speculation, as well as an effort to give permanence to the colony, proved so successful that an attempt was made to send a hundred more candidates for matrimony the next year. But the Company found itself so poor that it was neces- sary to resort to subscriptions to obtain means to forward this interest- ing freight, and it was with some difficulty they were enabled to send sixty. Whether these were a superior class to those previously sent is not certain, but they were described as maids of virtuous education, young, handsome, and well recommended. A portion only of the sixty were first sent out, and with this consignment went the following letter : " We send you a shipment, one widow and eleven maids, for wives of the people of Virginia: there hath been especial care had in the on B u H H Id CO Id E H Pi O A WISE POLICT. 175 choice of them, for there hath not one of them been received but upon good commendations. " In case they cannot be presently married, we desire that they may be put with several householders that have wives until they can be provided with husbands. There are nearly fifty more that are shortly to come, and are sent by our honorable lord and treasurer, the Earl of Southampton, and certain worthy gentlemen, who, taking into considera- tion that the plantation can never flourish till families be planted, and the respect of wives and children fix the people on the soil, therefore have given this fair beginning; for the reimbursing of whose charges it is ordered that every man that marries them give one hundred and twenty pounds of best leaf tobacco for each of them. . . . "We desire that the marriage be free according to nature, and we would not have those maids deceived and married to servants, but only to such freemen or tenants as have means to maintain them. We pray you, therefore, to be fathers of them in this business, not enforcing them to marry against their wills." The policy of thus providing wives for the colonists was a wise one, and of great benefit to the colony. Emigrants who otherwise would have made Virginia only a place of temporary abode, were content to settle down permanently and become industrious owners and cultivators of the soil. They had their household gods with them, and were no longer mere adventurers seeking some turn of fortune's wheel which should enable them some time to establish a home in England. In 1620, by the arbitrary interference of King James, Sir Edwin Sandys was suspended as treasurer of the Company, which office he had wisely administered, and the Earl of Southampton was elected in his place, though the latter was not the choice of the king. At the same time, an unscrupulous and corrupt faction made it so uncomfortable for Yeardley that he begged to retire from office as governor of the colony. Sir Francis Wyatt, an Irish gentleman of education and integrity, was appointed in his place. The new governor arrived in October, 1621, with a large number of emigrants, and still another frame of govern- ment, in which, however, the assembly was preserved. He brought, also, a body of instructions for the guidance of the governor and council, according to which he was to provide for the service of God in con- 176 COMPREHENSIVE INSTRUCTIONS. formity with the Church of England, as near as may be; to be obedient to the king, and to administer justice according to the laws of England; not to injure the natives, and to forget old quarrels now buried; to be industrious, and to suppress drunkenness, gaming, and excess in clothes; not to permit any but the council and heads of hundreds to wear gold in their clothes, or to wear silk till they make it themselves; not to offend any foreign prince; to punish pirates; to build forts; to endeavor to con- vert the heathen; and each town to teach some of the Indian children fit for the college which was to be built; to cultivate corn, wine, and silk; to search for minerals, dyes, gums, and medicinal drugs, and to draw off the people from the excessive planting of tobacco, or any such useless commodity; to build water-mills; to make salt, pitch, tar, and ashes; to make oil of walnuts, and employ apothecaries in distilling lees of beer; to make small quantity of tobacco, and that very good. Here, certainly, were instructions enough, and many of them excellent, to keep the governor busy in carrying them into effect, and thus promoting the welfare of the colony. The colony was now in a prosperous condition, and the tide of emi- gration was strongly setting towards it. During the year when Governor Wyatt arrived, twenty-one vessels came over, bringing more than thir- teen hundred men, women, and children, and during the following year more than two thousand arrived. XVIII. MASSACRE OF SETTLERS BY THE INDIANS. N the midst of the prosperity which was dawning on the infant colony a fearful calamity befell it. The aged Pow- hatan, who had maintained peaceful relations with the settlers since the marriage of Pocahontas, was gathered to his fathers, and his brother, Opechancanough, a "warlike chief, succeeded him as head of all the neighboring tribes. When Wyatt arrived, he sent a messenger to this chief to renew the treaties of peace and friendship which had existed between Powhatan and the colonists. Opechancanough seemed well disposed, and confirmed the pledges of harmony. He was, how- ever, a treacherous savage, and had a great dislike for the English. Fear alone kept him peaceful, and he only needed a pretext and an opportunity to take them at disadvantage to inflict upon the objects of his hatred a terrible vengeance. A pretext was soon found, and an opportunity was cautiously awaited. Among the Indians there was a famous chief named Nemattenow, or "Jack of the Feather," as he was styled by the English, from the manner in which he ornamented his hair. This chief went to the store of one of the settlers named Morgan and persuaded him to go to Pa- munkey to trade, when he murdered him on the way. A few days afterwards Nemattenow appeared again at Morgan's place, and told two of the latter's servants who inquired for their master that he was dead. These young men, seeing their master's cap upon the Indian's head, suspected that he had committed the murder, but without charging him NO. v. 23 177 178 MASSACRE OF SETTLERS BT THE INDIANS. with it undertook to conduct him to Mr. Thorpe, a pious gentleman who had labored zealously for the conversion of the Indians, and had treated them with uniform kindness, that he might question the sus- pected savage. Mr. Thorpe had by many acts of friendship endeavored to secure the confidence and good will of the Indians. He had built a house for Opechancanough, with which that redoubtable chief was highly pleased, and he had caused some English mastiffs, which were a source of terror to the natives, to be killed. He was, therefore, an excellent person to inquire into the disappearance of Morgan without exciting alarm or hostility among the Indians. But on the way Nemattenow objected to going to Mr. Thorpe, or otherwise got into a quarrel with the young men, and one of them shot and wounded him. Then putting him into a boat, they carried him a prisoner to Jamestown, where he shortly after died. Before his death he begged the young men not to disclose the fact that he was wounded by a bullet, for he had always boasted among his own people that he was invulnerable to English arms. Opechancanough was greatly in- censed at the loss of one of his most famous warriors, and muttered threats of revenge. His threats, however, were met with defiance by the English, and he accordingly suppressed his anger, and still made professions of friendship, which the settlers accepted without question. At this time, as before stated, the settlers were scattered at various points between the James and Potomac Rivers, and had established plantations wherever fertile lands had attracted them. Many of them were, unwisely, destitute of arms, and had no defences about their houses, which were everywhere open to the Indians, and were frequented by them at all times. Such was the feeling of security that the natives were readily allowed not only to eat at the tables of the settlers, but to lodge under their roofs. Opechancanough here found his opportunity for revenge. With con- summate artifice he concealed his purpose under a show of friendship, while he instructed his followers in his bloody plans. Scattered at all points where the English had established themselves, they were to await the time fixed for a general massacre; and so secretly were the plans perfected that up to the very day and hour set for the horrible butchery they were not divulged, nor the least indication given of what was about AN UNEXPECTED ATTACK. 179 to occur. About the middle of March, only a week before the fatal day, a messenger having been sent to Opechancanough on some errand, that cunning chief entertained him kindly, and protested that he held the peace so firm that the sky should fall before he broke it. On the twen- tieth of the same month the Indians guided a party of the English safely through the forest, and the more completely to lull all suspicion they sent one Brown, who was domiciled with them for the purpose of learn- ing their language, home to his master. They even borrowed boats to cross the river to hold a council on the proposed attack; and on the evening before, and the very morning of the massacre, they came un- armed into the houses of the unsuspecting colonists with fish, turkeys, and venison for sale, and sat down to eat at the breakfast tables. It was the season of planting, and on the 22d of March, 1622, the settlers went to the fields to work, or engaged in avocations about their houses. At about noon that day the savages suddenly, and everywhere at the same time, came forth from the woods and hiding-places, and fell upon the unsuspecting and unarmed whites and butchered them. From the fields they proceeded to the houses, and swiftly falling upon the inmates, killed them, sparing neither age, sex, nor condition. Women and children, the sick and helpless, alike fell before the infuriate savages. Even their steadfast friend, Mr. Thorpe, who, though warned by a ser- vant of the approach of the Indians, still trusted to his influence over them, fell a victim to his misplaced confidence, and was murdered with remorseless cruelty. A few of the settlers defended themselves with fire-arms, and drove the Indians away. One of Smith's old soldiers was surrounded by Indians, when, although wounded, he killed one of his assailants with an axe, and put the rest to flight. A settler named Baldwin, by the good use of his gun, saved himself and family, the savages still having a wholesome fear of bullets. Not far from Baldwin's house the savages at the same time appeared at another house where was Thomas Hamor, who from Smith's time was well known to them. They attempted to induce Hamor to come out of the house, saying that Opechancanough was hunting in the neighboring woods, arid desired to have his aid. Hamor was writing at the time, and was not disposed to leave that occupation. The Indians then set fire to a tobacco-house, and several 180 MASSACRE OF SETTLERS BY THE INDIANS. men who were in the house with Hamor ran out, when they were pur- sued by the Indians and killed. When Hamor had finished his writing, he also went out to see what was the matter, entirely unsuspicious of treachery; but he was pierced in the back with an arrow, and hurrying into the house, barricaded it. There were with him now none but women and children, but fortunately a boy of the family, finding a loaded gun, discharged it at random, and the Indians withdrew after setting fire to the house. Baldwin was still firing his gun, and Hamor, with the women and children, fled to his house, where they were saved from the knife and tomahawk. Another family seems to have been overlooked by the savages and escaped, not knowing anything of the massacre until two days after, though all the people of their region seventy-three in number were killed; so quietly did arrow, knife, and club do their bloody work. Thus in an hour three hundred and forty-nine men, women, and children were massacred, and their bodies mangled by the 'savages, who carried away scalps and limbs as trophies. Six of the victims were members of the council, and many others were among the most worthy of the colonists. The massacre was intended to be universal, for Ope- chancanough had boasted to his people that he would wipe the English from the land. It might have been more successful but for the disclo- sure of a converted Indian, who during the night preceding had revealed the plot to the settler with whom he lived. This man, after fortifying his own house, hastened to Jamestown and gave the alarm to the gov- ernor, who took such precautions that all within reach were saved from destruction. The massacre struck terror into the hearts of the surviving colonists, though their numbers were sufficient to oppose any force which the Indians could muster. They were completely demoralized by fear, and twenty or thirty days elapsed before any plan of defence was determined upon. Many were urgent to abandon James River, and to withdraw to the eastern shore, where some newly settled plantations had been undis- turbed. At length it was determined to abandon the weaker and more exposed settlements, and concentrate the population in five or six places which could be well fortified and defended. Some of the planters who occupied exposed situations were unwilling to leave their plantations, SMITH'S OFFER TO PUNISH THE SAVAGES. and a few persisted in remaining, and resolutely fortified and defended their dwellings, while others were compelled by force to withdraw. In the mean time, a large part of the cattle and effects of the victims of the massacre, and of those who left their homes, had fallen a prey to the Indians, and the horrors of famine threatened to follow. Fortunately, however, this evil was averted. When intelligence of the sad event reached England, it aroused a great deal of sympathy and indignation. King James, with a pretence of magnanimity, but with characteristic meanness, granted the Virginia Company some unserviceable arms from the Tower, and " lent them twenty barrels of powder." One of the nobility, with somewhat more sincere generosity, gave sixty coats of mail, and the city of London sent out one hundred settlers to recruit the diminished colony. But Captain John Smith, who had had experience with the Indians, and knew their characteristics and how best to deal with them, made a better considered proposal. He offered, if the Company would send him to Virginia with a small force, to reduce the savages to subjection and protect the colony from future attacks. The Company, however, was as much demoralized as the colonists; filled with dissensions, it scarcely entertained the offer, and the few who were willing to accept it proposed such niggardly terms that the bold and chivalrous Smith was disgusted, and the project failed. In Virginia, when the first effects of the massacre had passed, a spirit of retaliation naturally followed. The colonists were Englishmen, and were not to be cowed by these poorly-armed savages. Opechan- canough still entertained the purpose of annihilating the people who had come to take possession of his country, and in a message which he sent to Japazaws, a chief of the Potomacs, urging him to slay a party of Englishmen who were trading on that river, he boasted of the massacre, and declared that before the end of two moons not an Englishman should be left in all the country. Japazaws, however, would not be bribed to kill his guests, but informed Crashaw, the commander of the party, of Opechancanough's proposal, who thereupon sent a challenge to that redoubtable chief " that he would nakedly fight him, or any of his, with their own swords." Defiance like this was not the kind of war- fare suited to the Indian character, and the challenge was not accepted. 182 MASSACRE OF SETTLERS BT THE INDIANS. The chief preferred stratagem and treachery, and he hoped to repeat the massacre of defenceless settlers. But the colonists were more wary now, the Indians were no longer allowed to come freely into the settle- ments, and all their movements "were carefully watched. Captain Mad- ison, who occupied a fort on the Potomac, suspecting a treacherous movement on the part of a tribe there, without waiting to verify his suspicions, attacked their village, and killed thirty or forty of their men, women, and children. Similar punishment for suspected treachery was inflicted upon smaller numbers at other points, and the Indians soon found that another massacre was impossible. When corn was ripe, Sir George Yeardley, with three hundred men, invaded the territory of the Nansemonds, who set fire to their cabins, and fled. Yeardley, however, obtained their corn, which was the chief object of his expedition. He then visited the residence of Opechan- canough, and inflicted a like punishment upon the immediate followers of the great chief, who thus found that his treachery had provoked a spirit of retaliation from which his race was likely to be the greatest sufferers. For several years subsequent to the massacre this spirit pre- vailed. A war of extermination was fiercely advocated by some of the colonists, and, to some extent, such a policy was adopted by the author- ities. The rights of the Indians were no longer in any degree respected, and they were driven from the choice lands where they had established their villages and plantations. In July of 1623 an organized force of the colonists made a campaign against the neighboring tribes, and a law of the general assembly commanded that the attack should be repeated the next year. This spirit of ruthless vengeance continued for some years, and it was sternly insisted that no peace should be concluded with the Indians. It was not till 1632, ten years after the massacre, that a treaty of .peace was sanctioned. In April, 1644, the Indians, who had always cherished a hatred to- ward the whites, notwithstanding the treaty of peace, suddenly showed open hostility, and attempted another massacre of the invaders of their country. Opechancanough had never abandoned his hopes of extermi- nating the invaders of his domain, and though now very old, he retained great influence over all the tribes of Virginia. Aggravated by the en- croachments of Governor Harvey, or encouraged by the dissensions of CAPTURE AND DEATH OF OPECHANCANOUGH. 183 the colonists, he resolved to make another attempt to destroy the colony. Large numbers of the Indian warriors were assembled, and without warning made a sudden and concerted attack on the frontier settle- ments. Again the settlers were unprepared, the long period which had elapsed since the Indians had ventured any attack upon a number of whites lulling them into a sense of security. With their usual ferocity they murdered men, women, and children alike, and upwards of three hundred whites fell victims to their vengeance. But when they had accomplished thus much, alarmed at their own rashness, or satisfied for the time with their achievements, as usual with the Indians, they retired again to the wilderness. Had they persisted in their bloody work, they might have inflicted a more terrible blow on the colony before an organ- ized resistance could have checked their savage career. Their retreat enabled the English to take measures not only for defence, but for offen- sive war, and they were soon pursued by a force with which they did not dare to contend. The aged Opechancanough was made prisoner and taken to Jamestown. His commanding form, which from the first planting of the colony had been conspicuous among the warriors of his race, was now bent with age and hardships, and he was nearly blind. Haughty and implacable in his hatred, he still retained much of the spirit of his earlier years, and indignantly protested against being ex- hibited to the curious yisitors who came to see him. He was kindly treated, in the main, but one of his guards, for some real or fancied affront, basely shot him in the back. Languishing for a time from the effects of the wound, he at length died, at the age, as was supposed, of nearly a hundred years. His death seemed to destroy the courage of the natives, and a peace was soon established, and endured for a long period. XIX. CHARACTER OF THE VIRGINIA COLONISTS. CONDITION IN 164.8. ;HE character of the early settlers of Virginia has been already mentioned. A few of them were adventurous spirits warmly enlisted in the enterprise of founding a colony in the new world; some were gentlemen "in reduced circumstances," who found it necessary to seek the smiles of fortune in a new field; others were scions of good families who on account of disreputable con- duct or offences were compelled to leave their native land. Many were needy adventurers of all sorts, who expected to find wealth with very little effort. The whole company were sent out as a commercial venture. They were not animated by devotion to prin- ciple like the Pilgrims and Puritans of New England, and in their character and habits they were like those classes in England from which they came, easy-going supporters of the Church of England, not very moral, and fond of sports and good living. Those who came afterwards were generally of a better sort than the earlier settlers, though they came from similar motives and with similar habits. They were loyal supporters of the king, and admirers of rank and titles; not a few of them were knights, or connected with the nobil- ity. From political more than religious motives they were stanch sup- porters of the Church of England. Recollections of the persecutions of " bloody Mary," the Spanish armada, and the gunpowder plot, made them earnest haters of papists, and the charter of the colony required that the oaths of allegiance and supremacy should be taken for the 184 SPIRIT OF INDEPENDENCE. ^5 purpose of guarding against the " superstitions of the Church of Rome." In a less degree they were intolerant towards dissenters; and when a few Puritans, who had come among the later emigrants, had invited some ministers from Massachusetts to come and preach to them, these missionaries were ordered to leave the colony. And when Puritanism began to develop itself among some of the clergy, ministers were ordered to conform themselves in all things according to the canons of the Church of England. Other measures were adopted against those inclined to "Independency," and a considerable number of non-conformists left Virginia in consequence. An act of the assembly also banished all Quakers, and provided that their return should be regarded as felony. Otherwise there was considerable religious freedom of an undemonstra- tive sort, and there was very little bigotry in the maintenance of the established church. A due regard for religious observances -was enforced by a law requiring all persons to attend church. But that neither clergy nor laymen were very strict in their religion or morals is shown by another act, which directed that ministers should not " give themselves to excess in drinking, or riot, spending their time idly by day or night, playing at dice, cards, or any other unlawful game." As the affairs of the colony prospered, and the. planters obtained a competence, they lived freely, and were much given to hospitality. With none of the sternness of the New England Puritans, they enjoyed life, and were deterred by no conscientious scruples from indulging in sports and merry-makings. Although stanch loyalists, they showed a spirit of independence, and stoutly asserted and maintained their rights. They claimed the right to manage their own affairs so long as they did nothing in conflict with the laws of England and the prerogatives of the crown. They established a representative assembly, the first in America, on the basis of almost universal suffrage; and they boldly denied to the governor the right to levy any tax without the concurrence of the assembly. The spirit of freedom which animated them descended to succeeding generations, and was a potent force in achieving the independence of the colonies. In 1648 there were about fifteen thousand English settlers in Vir- ginia, and three hundred African slaves. Notwithstanding the misfor- tunes of the early days, and the two massacres, the condition of the NO. v. 24 1 86 CHARACTER OF THE VIRGINIA COLONISTS. colony was at this period prosperous and very encouraging. Thousands of acres had been cleared and planted, and in the fruitful soil was found wealth more certain than the first uneasy settlers had hoped to find in mines of precious metals. There were twenty thousand cattle, and the planters made plenty of butter and cheese. Horses were not yet very numerous, numbering only about two hundred, but attention was now given to the rearing of them, with great care for the excel- lence of the breed. Subsequently the Virginia horses were of marked superiority, and the planters were famous horsemen. Three thousand sheep and five thousand goats were among the live-stock possessions of the colonists, and swine were not only raised on the plantations, but ran wild in the forest, while the farm-yards were well filled with poultry. Deer were abundant in the woods, and with other smaller animals, and wild turkeys, quail, and waterfowl, furnished an ample supply of game, -while the rivers and bay supplied some thirty varieties of fish. To garnish this abundance of necessaries and luxuries, the settlers also cultivated a good supply of vegetables, such as potatoes, asparagus, peas, beans, carrots, and other roots, and a variety of garden herbs and medicinal flowers, and fifteen kinds of fruits, which were said to be " comparable to those of Italy." One planter made twenty butts of excellent cider from apples of his own orchard, and another had for several years made forty or fifty butts of perry from pears of his own raising. Governor Berkeley had fifteen hundred fruit trees in his or- chard, besides his apricots, peaches, and quinces. Maize, or Indian corn, for which the settlers were indebted to the natives, was the prin- cipal production, except tobacco, yielding five hundred-fold, and fur- nishing their chief supply of bread. Wheat, oats, and barley were also sown, and yielded abundantly. Bees, wild and domestic, supplied honey and wax. Thus the colonists found themselves at last in a land of plenty ; it was "the best poor man's country in the world." For commerce, tobacco was raised in large quantities, so that the price became very much reduced. The Virginia tobacco was in high esteem in England, and it brought, in return, the various manufactures of which the colony stood in need. The yield was very large; one man could plant and cultivate enough to make two thousand pounds, besides sufficient corn and vegetables for his own support. A little A VIRGINIA GENTLEMAN. 187 indigo was made from the leaves of a small tree, and great hopes were entertained that Virginia would soon supply Christendom with this ar- ticle. Pitch and tar were also made for export, and the forests furnished excellent lumber for the same purpose. Mulberry trees abounded, and it was confidently believed that silk would be produced in Virginia, as well as in France. The colony was therefore well supplied with actual and prospective articles of commerce, and a considerable trade had already grown up between it and the mother country. Upwards of thirty vessels at this time came annually to Jamestown to trade, and many of them were repaired and provisioned here. At Christmas, in 1647, there were in the James River ten vessels from London, two from Bristol, twelve from Holland, and seven from New England. Under such circumstances many of the colonists grew to be com- paratively wealthy. Liberal grants of land had been made to them, and enterprise was amply rewarded by its cultivation. As an instance of the style in which the Virginia gentleman lived even at that early day, it is said that K Captain Matthews, an old planter of above thirty years' standing, had a fine house, sowed much hemp and flax, and had it spun; he kept weavers, and had a tannery where leather was dressed; and had eight shoemakers at work; had forty negro servants, whom he brought up to mechanical trades; he sold large crops of wheat and barley. The wheat he sold for four shillings a bushel. He also supplied vessels trading in Virginia with beef. He had plenty of cows, a fine dairy, a large number of hogs and poultry. He kept a good house, lived bravely, and was a true lover of Virginia." After the importation of wives for the settlers, and the accession of married men among the later emigrants, there was a goodly number of children in the colony, for which blessings the assembly on one occa- sion expressed devout thanks. But no very ample provision was made for the education of the young. One free school had been endowed, lib- erally for the times, and there were a few other schools; but the Virginia colonists were not so careful to provide for the instruction of the young as were the Puritans of New England. At a later period than that here referred to Sir William Berkeley said, " I thank God there are no free schools, nor printing (in Virginia), and I hope we shall not have, these hundred years; for learning has brought disobedience, and heresy, and 1 88 CHARACTER OF THE VIRGINIA COLONISTS. sects, into the world; and printing has divulged them, and libels against the best government. God keep us from both." From a very early date in the history of the colony there was some talk among the members of the Company in England, and the church dignitaries, about establishing a " college " for the education of Indian youth, that they might become missionaries for the conversion of their race, but the project was not carried into effect. Some good men labored for the conversion of such Indians as they could reach, and with partial success; but the subjects generally were not very docile, and the labor was not very encouraging. Among those who engaged in this good work was Mr. Thorpe, mentioned in the preceding chap- ter, who won the confidence of the natives by his uniform kindness, and, having secured their good-will, began to instruct them in the com- mon arts of civilized life, and to impart to them some idea of the Chris- tian religion. The Indians were freely admitted to his house, and often sat at his table, and slept before his fire. A few of them became his stanch friends, and were considered "converted;" but to most of the treacherous savages his kindness was of little account, and when they resolved upon the destruction of the English he was one of the earliest victims. XX. VIRGINIA UNDER THE COMMONWEALTH. HE plan of this work did not contemplate any connected narrative of events in Virginia beyond the early period of which some account has already been given; but there are a few later events which may well be recounted to illustrate the character of the colonists. When the people of England rose against the usur- pations and tyranny of Charles I., and brought that monarch to the block, the colonists of Virginia con- tinued loyal to the crown, and were bitterly opposed to the Long Parliament and the Commonwealth. The loyalty of Virginia, when everywhere else his friends were few, was duly appreciated by the son of the fallen king and his supporters, and from his poor court in Breda he sent to Sir William Berkeley, the governor, a new commission confirming the powers granted by his father. Berkeley was a most ear- nest loyalist, and the great majority of the colonists, not having experi- enced the ills under \vhich their countrymen in the mother country had suffered, remained true to the fortunes of the Stuarts, even when they seemed most hopeless. The new commission confirmed governor and people in their loyal prepossessions. As the loyalty of Virginia won the grateful acknowledgments of the royal part}-, it excited the displeasure of Parliament. Measures were adopted to secure to the mother country all the advantages of commerce with the colonies, and a powerful fleet of armed vessels, carrying also a considerable land force, was fitted out in 1651, under the command of 189 190 VIRGINIA UNDER THE COMMONWEALTH. Sir George Ayscue, with instructions to reduce all refractory colonies to subjection. The orders were stern and decided. If the rebellious col- onists would immediately submit, favorable terms should be extended to them ; but if they should resist, the terrors of war should be visited upon them. Having reduced Antigua and the Barbadoes to subjection, Ayscue, who was a distinguished naval commander, sailed for Virginia, where he anticipated no serious resistance. Berkeley, however, having been informed of this expedition, deter- mined to show his loyalty to the prince and his hatred of the Com- monwealth. Jamestown was fortified, and a large part of the men who were able to bear arms, and could be depended upon, were called to its defence. At the time of the arrival of the Parliamentary force in James River it so happened that several Dutch ships were lying at Jamestown, and as England was then at war with Holland, the com- manders and crews of these ships knew that they would be made cap- tives should the force of the Commonwealth triumph, and their rich cargoes would be confiscated. They therefore readily assented to Berke- ley's proposal that they should unite with the colonists in resisting the coming fleet. The ships were accordingly moored in line along the peninsula, and their cargoes carried on shore. Select crews were placed on board each ship, and with guns heavily charged they presented their broadsides to the water approaches to the town. When Captain Dennis, who commanded the Parliamentary force, saw this preparation for resistance, he was greatly disappointed in his expec- tations of a ready submission on the part of the colony. He hesitated making an attack, and resorted to negotiations as a better means of securing the object of the expedition than a bloody and doubtful con- flict. He had, moreover, in his hands the means of appealing to the private interests of some of the council, and thus dividing the colonial authorities. On board of some of the English ships there was a large quantity of goods belonging to two members of the council; and after a number of messages had passed between Captain Dennis and the colo- nial government, he found means to convey to these members intelli- gence concerning their goods, and intimated to them that the fate of their property depended upon their conduct in the pending negotiations. By this shrewd move Captain Dennis was pretty sure to have two advo- LIBERAL CONCESSIONS. Io ,i cates of a pacific settlement of difficulties in the council. Puplic affairs are very apt to assume a new aspect when viewed through the spec- tacles of self-interest, and the councillors in question became strenuous opponents of resistance, and argued that it would be useless to contend with the power of England, which was now wielded by the Common- wealth, and that it would be wiser to submit while they could obtain favorable terms, than to wait till they were forced to yield after a fruit- less contest. These views prevailed with other members of the council, and the governor found himself overruled by a majority. The negotia- tions proceeded, and resulted in a treaty signed on the i2th of March, 1652, by which the most liberal terms were secured for the colony, hon- orable alike to the colonists and to the officers of the Commonwealth. By this treaty the colony was to remain in obedience and subjection to the Commonwealth, but at the same time it was stipulated that this submission should be considered a voluntary thing, and not imposed upon them by force of arms. On the other hand it was agreed that the colonists were to enjoy all the " privileges and freedomes " of the most favored subjects of the English government. The colonial assem- bly was to meet as before, and might enact laws, provided only that they were not inconsistent with the laws of the mother country. A gen- eral amnesty for acts, words, or writings against Parliament was granted; and should any of the inhabitants not choose to submit to the Common- wealth, they were allowed a year to remove with their effects out of Virginia. The existing boundaries of Virginia were guaranteed, former patents were confirmed, and the colonists were to be allowed to trade with all nations. No taxes were to be levied upon them except by consent of the assembly, and other minor privileges and exemptions were allowed. But the most remarkable concession, considering the dislike of the Parliamentary party. for the Church of England, was the stipulation that the Book of Common Prayer should continue to be used for one year in those parishes that desired it, provided only that the parts recognizing the king and the royal government should be omitted in public worship. Another remarkable provision in the treaty was the leniency and con- sideration conceded to Sir William Berkeley, who was known as a stanch supporter of the late king, and ardent friend of his son. Both he and I9 2 VIRGINIA UNDER THE COMMONWEALTH. his council were exempted for one year from taking the oath of alle- giance to the Commonwealth, and from censure for speaking well of the king. He was even permitted to send a report of his proceedings to the sovereign whom he still recognized. His lands and other property were secured to him, and he was allowed a year to provide a ship and transport himself and his effects to any part of the world he might choose ; and if he went to England, he was to be allowed six months " to fol- low his occasions " after his arrival. These favorable terms, which of course were not conceded except on the firm demands of the colonists, show the spirit of freedom and independence which animated the people even in those early days of Virginia. The liberties and privileges of the people were guaranteed, and all that was required of them was allegiance to the Commonwealth and a partial or future discontinuance of forms of worship. The colony thus continued to enjoy everything essential to its welfare, and prospered in a greater degree than before. The terms of the treaty were so propi- tious that scarcely any animosity was excited, and so favorably disposed were the colonists to the Commonwealth that, in the April following, one of the commissioners of Parliament, Richard Bennett, who had signed the treaty in behalf of the Commonwealth, was elected to the office of governor, and until the restoration of the Stuarts the governor was elected by the colonial assembly, and not appointed by Parliament or the Pro- tector. At the restoration of the monarchy in England there was great rejoicing among the numerous cavaliers who had come to Virginia, \vhich was foolishly shared by the mass of the people, who were lovers of royalty and haters of "round-heads" and republicans. Under the Com- monwealth they had enjoyed great freedom and prosperity unexampled in any previous period. Forgetting this, they hailed with joy the acces- sion of a monarch who could not possibly bring to them any new ben- efits, and from whom, directly or indirectly, soon came oppression, fol- lowed by discord and civil war. XXI. ROYALIST OPPRESSION.-BACON'S REBELLION. ' HEN Charles II. was firmly seated on the throne, he sent to his loyal supporter, Sir William Berkeley, a new com- mission as governor. Berkeley, who had not left Virginia, already held the office, having been elected about the time that Richard Cromwell, unable to wield the power which his father had left to him, retired from the cares 1 of government, and the hopes of the monarchists were revived. The liberal spirit in which the affairs of the colony had for some years been conducted, upon the resumption of power by Berkeley soon gave place to a more arbitrary administration and laws. When the monarchy was re-established in England, the cav- aliers and other loyalists who composed the colonial assembly made haste to expurgate from the laws everything derogatory to monarchical government, or tolerating dissent from the Church of England. Though all this was hailed with joy by a majority of the people of Virginia, they soon began to realize that they did not enjoy the privileges or the prosperity which had been assured to them under the Commonwealth. They soon experienced the effects of the change of government more severely when the king and parliament adopted oppressive measures towards all the colonies. The " navigation laws" and other enactments for the supposed benefit of the mother country, and in the interest of the crown, formed a complete system of commercial oppression which soon affected the prosperity of the Virginia colonists. The governor and his cavalier friends were such ardent admirers of NO, v. 25 193 ROYALIST OPPRESSION. royalty that they approved of all that received the sanction of the king, and imitated the arbitrary and often vindictive spirit with which author- ity was exercised in the mother country. But the assembly, seeing the evil effects of the oppressive laws, commissioned Berkeley, on his visit to England, to attend specially to their interests, and endeavor to procure more favorable laws. The governor, however, enjoyed the gayeties of the court and the smiles of royalty, and found time, during a year and a half that he was absent from Virginia, only to secure some valuable privileges for himself, but nothing for the relief of the colony. The price of tobacco had fallen so low that the planters were threat- ened with ruin, and other causes of discontent were increasing in num- ber and weight. Even those who had rejoiced at the restoration of a king and a royal governor felt that their joy was only a mockery, and that the hopes in which they had indulged were already crushed by oppression. But there were now in the colony many others who had no love for royalty or established church, and who were disposed to resist the oppressor. Not a few of Cromwell's old soldiers had come over to Virginia when the civil wars subsided, and they had no scru- ples about opposing the king or his subservient parliament. They fanned the flames of discontent, and encouraged the spirit of rebellion. Secretly and with skill a formidable insurrection was organized, designed to overthrow the existing colonial government, and to resist the author- ity of the king whom it so faithfully represented. The movement was planned and carried on so privately that not a hint of its design was received by the authorities; and civil war would have been precipitated upon the colony had not one of the conspirators, moved by remorse or cowardice, on the evening preceding the day intended for the rising, revealed the plot. Berkeley at once took decided measures to crush the proposed insurrection. He privately ordered a large force of militia to meet at the place appointed for the rendezvous of the insurgents before the time when they were to assemble. His directions were obeyed, and when the conspirators appeared they were arrested and disarmed. All those who came first were thus seized; but soon the alarm spread, and many turned back and escaped. Four of those who were supposed to be among the instigators of the insurrection were speedily hung, and the rebellion was nipped in the bud. THE ASSEMBLY SEEKS REDRESS. But the grievances of the colonists were by no means ended. They continued, however, to bear them as best they might, till an act of Charles II. threatened them with new and untold evils. In 1669, that unworthy monarch, regardless of former grants and the rights and priv- ileges of the colonists, exercised what he claimed as his prerogative, and gave to two of his favorites the whole of Virginia, land and water, forest and plantation, for the full period of thirty-one years. These two men were to enjoy the profits of this large domain, now occupied by forty thousand inhabitants, who under grants and charters had occu- pied the land, and expended the toil of years in making it fruitful. They could impose rents, duties, tithes, services, or what they pleased upon the people, whose burdens had previously been light and such only as their own representatives approved. Great was the astonish- ment and alarm among all classes of the colonists when this grant was promulgated. Even the most loyal supporters of the king felt ag- grieved; for, under the letters-patent issued to the favorites, they were subject to the same oppression as the most determined opponent of royalty, and could only escape by favor, of which they were by no means sure. The assembly immediately resolved to seek redress, and sent three commissioners to England to implore the king to revoke his grant, or, failing in that, to attempt to effect a compromise with Culpeper and Arlington, the favored grantees. But the mission was a failure; Charles II. thought more of his two favorites than of forty thousand of his subjects, and refused to withdraw his letters-patent. With the pat- entees the commissioners were scarcely more successful; for, after pro- tracted negotiations, they obtained terms little favorable to the colonists. Berkeley, who for many years had been governor, and whom the colonists had delighted to honor, exhibited his true character as a sub- servient courtier, and took sides in this, as in all other oppressive meas- ures, with the king and parliament. He drew from the people a princely revenue for his private benefit, and was ready to enforce any other exactions which royalty or its favorites should demand. He was a faithful follower and imitator of his royal master in all but his volup- tuous life, though he possessed some traits that elevated him far above the false king. Ever since the restoration and his appointment by 196 ROTALIST OPPRESSION. royal commission, he had been always on the side of the oppressor, and had gradually forfeited the respect with which he had formerly been regarded. Nor was the assembly now what it had formerly been. It was composed chiefly of landholders and royalists, and for some years had perpetuated its existence by adjournment, so that no new election had taken place. . The institutions of Virginia had been essentially changed, and the colonists no longer enjoyed the republican privileges which had formerly been secured to them, nor the rights and immuni- ties which they claimed as English freemen. They now found them- selves not only the victims of parliamentary oppression, but the subjects of royal insult and wrong, while their immediate rulers sympathized with the oppressor. With such grievances now long continued, and in danger of losing the reward of all their toil under the infamous grant to the king's favor- ites, it is not strange that many of the colonists were ripe for rebellion. In the midst of their troubles they had yet another cause of complaint, which ultimately led to open resistance to the colonial government. The Indians had long been practising hostilities on exposed plantations, and on the upper streams of the James and York Rivers they were suffi- ciently numerous and unfriendly to be dangerous. Berkeley promised to send a force against them, but forgot his promise. A volunteer force, organized and ready to march against the treacherous enemy, was dis- banded by his orders without good cause. Meanwhile planters and their families were exposed to the terrible warfare of the savages, and many of them were murdered or carried away to be tortured as captives. Finding that they could receive no protection from the governor, the people resolved to protect themselves. A large number assem- bled, and selected as their leader Nathaniel Bacon, Jr., a sufferer at the hands of the Indians, who had recently treacherously murdered his overseer and a favorite servant. Bacon was a young man of good parentage, born in Virginia, and heir to a valuable estate. He had been well educated, and had passed several years in London, where, in the inns of court, he had acquired a knowledge of law. On his return to Virginia, his character and acquirements made him a man of mark, and he soon became a prominent member of the council. " His figure was graceful and commanding; his countenance was remarkable for manly NATHANIEL BACON. beauty and for engaging expression; his manners were easy and nat- ural, betraying neither the hauteur of the professed aristocrat nor the coarseness of the plebeian. Nature had gifted him with intellectual endowments of the highest order. His mind was capacious, yet exact; full of native energy, yet highly cultured by well-applied art. He was an orator of uncommon power. His eloquence appears to have been of that character, at once impassioned and convincing, which carries away alike the feelings and the reason of the auditors, and renders them sub- servient to the speaker's will. He possessed dauntless courage, and he feared not to encounter any danger in the cause of freedom and of innocence." * Such a man was worthy to lead a good cause, and there can be little doubt that he accepted the position from motives of pure patriotism and philanthropy. His social and political position was such, that self- interest would have prompted him not only to abstain from rebellion against existing powers, but to refrain from doing anything which did not receive the approval of the government. The purpose of the as- sembled people was to march against the savage enemy and secure the safety which the colonial, government refused to afford. But it was a time when they felt more keenly than ever the wrongs they had suffered, and with his impassioned eloquence Bacon reviewed the .grievances visited upon them by king and parliament, and the wrongs and abuses of which the governor and assembly were guilty. There was ample opportunity for a fiery orator to stir the feelings of his audi- tors with a. skilful enumeration of the evils under which they suffered. But it was the description of the Indian murders and outrages, from which a selfish and unsympathizing government refused protection, that formed the climax of his address, and that made the excited assembly pledge each other not to lay down their arms till the savage foe was punished and their own safety was secured. That Bacon and his followers did not contemplate rebellion against the colonial government is shown by the fact that they applied to Sir William Berkeley, "humbly begging" that he would grant a commission to Bacon as commander of the forces against the Indians. It was, under the circumstances, a moderate and reasonable request; but the governor, * Howison ; Hist, of Virginia. I9 8 BACON'S REBELLION. knowing the discontent that pervaded the people, perhaps feared the organization of any such force, and he hesitated to comply with the request. But the case was urgent; the families of these men were ex- posed to the attack of the savages, and delay was dangerous. Bacon therefore resolved to march against the Indians without a commission, and to inflict punishment upon them before they committed further out- rages. He moved rapidly to the upper rivers, and falling upon the sav- ages, he defeated them with a heavy loss. Having thus accomplished his purpose, and secured safety to the frontier plantations, for a time at least, he returned to his home. In the meantime, however, he was threatened in the rear by another foe. When Berkeley learned that Bacon had marched with his vol- unteers against the Indians, he was greatly incensed at his presumption in daring to act without authority, and, declaring . him and his fol- lowers to be rebels, he raised an armed force, and marched in pursuit. But Berkeley found that his rear was also threatened, and before he could reach the volunteers who were protecting their homes, he was called back to Jamestown by the symptoms of an insurrection there. The people throughout the colony sympathized with Bacon and his fol- lowers in their efforts to protect themselves, and in their indignation against the governor for his arbitrary and treacherous refusal of a com- mission to the young leader, they remembered more keenly their own long-continued grievances, and were ready to rise against their op- pressors. The governor and council became alarmed at this state of things, and adopted two important measures to quiet the threatening storm. They issued orders to dismantle the forts erected to enforce the obnoxious " navigation laws," and writs for a new election of mem- bers of the general assembly. These measures had the effect to restore hope to the people, and consequently calmed the excitement. The new election was held, and a more liberal assembly was chosen. The old freedom of suffrage was exercised, regardless of the law which, since the restoration, had restricted the right of voting to freeholders, and many of the burgesses chosen were only freemen, and did not possess the property qualification required. The oppressive laws passed by the last assembly, which was known as the Long Assembly, and the dangerous powers which it had RIGHTS AND PRIVILEGES RESTORED. 199 usurped, seemed to be overthrown by the result of this election. But Sir William Berkeley, while he apparently acquiesced, was by no means disposed to yield what he considered his prerogative, nor to smother his resentment and desire for revenge on Bacon for his alleged insult to the dignity and authority of the governor. Bacon was elected a member of the assembly at this election, and, as he approached Jamestown in a small sloop, to attend the session of that body, his vessel was suddenly brought to by an armed ship, and he was arrested and carried a prisoner into the town. When the as- sembly convened, however, there were such manifestations of affection for the young leader, and murmurings at the governor's arbitrary con- duct towards him, that Berkeley did not dare to hold him in confine- ment. With a pretence of clemency he released the prisoner, reversed the sentence of attainder which had previously been pronounced against him, and restored him to his place in the council, on condition that he should acknowledge that he had been guilty of unwarrantable prac- tices, should beg pardon of the governor for his offences against him, and should promise true faith and allegiance to the government in future, pledging his whole estate for his good conduct. Before Bacon would consent to make this acknowledgment and give his parole, he demanded and received from the governor a promise that he should have a regular commission as commander of the forces against the In- dians. The acknowledgment was then made, and the parole given, and the assembly, entering upon its duties, repealed some of the unjust and oppressive laws of the Long Assembly, and adopted other measures to restore to the colonists their former privileges and contentment. This reaction in favor of liberty did not please Berkeley, and he foolishly determined to oppose it. Disregarding his promise, ex- press or implied, he positively refused to give Bacon the commission he sought. Indignant at this breach of faith, the young planter de- nounced it in no measured terms. Warned by his uncle that some treachery would be employed against him, he secretly left Jamestown. Berkeley, knowing that the people sympathized with him, feared that this move boded no good, and immediately issued warrants for his ap- prehension; but Bacon was beyond the reach of the angry governor, and had too many friends to permit his arrest, even had he remained. 200 XACOJV'S REBELLION. In a short time, numerous planters and others, indignant at the treat- ment their idol had received, pledged themselves to stand by him; and organizing a force of four hundred armed men, Bacon marched them into Jamestown, and forming them in front of the government house, he demanded from the governor and council the commission which had been promised. Berkeley was a high-spirited old cavalier, and, angry at this daring act, he advanced towards the followers of Bacon, ex- claiming, "Here, shoot me a fair mark; 'fore God shoot!" But Bacon, restraining his anger, coolly replied, "No; may it please your honor, we will not hurt a hair of your head, nor of any other man's. We have come for a commission to save our lives from the Indians, which you have so often promised; and now we will have it before we go." The council and assembly persuaded the haughty and angry gov- ernor to grant the commission, and thus calm the excitement that was spreading among the people. As soon as it was obtained, Bacon led his force away from Jamestown, and prepared for a vigorous prosecution of war -against the Indians, which was still the sole object of his move- ments. He had no sooner gone, however, than the governor and council repented of their act of justice, and, under the pretext that the com- mission had been obtained by force of arms, they denounced Bacon as a rebel, and prepared to wage war upon him as such. Berkeley raised the royal standard, and called upon the planters to rally round it, and put down the disturbers of the public peace. But the planters regarded Bacon as a friend and a brave defender of their homes against the sav- ages, and they refused to bear arms against a patriot who was ready to sacrifice his life in their defence. When Bacon received intelligence of Berkeley's movements, he halted in .his march against the Indians. He was justly incensed at being thus "hunted in the rear like a savage animal, while he was pursuing the wolves, tigers, and bears in front," and he resolved at once to compel the treacherous governor to abide by his promises, and adopt a more just and reasonable course. He marched rapidly back to the place where Berkeley had undertaken to collect a force; but the latter, finding himself so feebly supported, withdrew, and with a few adherents fled across the bay to the eastern shore, where he remained until GOVERNOR BERKELEY AND THE INSURGENTS. REVOLUTIONARY PROCEEDINGS. 2OI by treachery he was relieved from his ignominious position. Even then the people received him coldly, and would not rally to his support. Bacon now summoned the leading men of the colony to consider the state of affairs, and to take measures to organize a government. The flight of Berkeley, it was urged, was equivalent to abdication. More- over, the ten years for which he had been appointed had already expired, and the people had a right, therefore, to take the government into their own hands, and choose his successor. These views were generally approved, and Bacon, with four other members of the council, issued writs for the election of a new assembly. These proceedings were hailed with great enthusiasm by the people, who felt that they had regained the liberties of which they had been deprived. A manifesto was issued by the assembled leaders, bearing the signatures of all of them, which, from the character and influence of the signers, might well be considered as the declaration of the people. This paper, after reciting the facts which led to the existing condition of the country, the outrages of the Indians, the raising of a force to subdue them, the appointment of Bacon as commander, and Berkeley's unjust and arbi- trary measures, concludes with three articles of agreement. By the first, the signers pledged themselves at all times to join with Bacon against the common foe, the Indians; by the second, they promised to use all proper means for the discovery and apprehension of those who desired to beget civil war by opposing him; by the third, after reciting that Berkeley had represented to the king that the people of Virginia were rebellious, and requested troops to keep them in subjection, they solemnly engaged to oppose such troops until his majesty should be informed of the true state of the case by delegates sent to England in behalf of the people. Having taken these steps for the re-establishment of the government, Bacon resumed the work which he had first undertaken a campaign against the Indians. Destroying their towns and plantations as he ad- vanced, he marched to the region where it was understood the savages had collected in formidable numbers. A few miles below the site of the present city of Richmond is a stream still known by the name of Bloody Run. On a hill overlooking this stream the Indians had collected their NO. vi. 26 202 BACON'S REBELLION. whole force of warriors, with their women and children, in a large pal- isaded enclosure or fort. It was a formidable place to assault, but, defended by few if any fire-arms, a daring attack by well-armed whites could carry it, and Bacon did not hesitate to make the attempt. The hill was mounted, the palisades were torn down, and the Indians were met in a hand-to-hand conflict. The savages fought desperately for a time, and the carnage was so great that it was said that streams of blood ran down the hill into the little brook below, and gave it the name by which it has ever since been known. Before the fire-arms and greater persistency of the whites the Indians could not stand. A large number of them were killed, and many were taken prisoners, to be held as slaves; the remnant fled to the forest, dispirited, and weak in numbers; and in eastern Virginia there were no more Indian mur- ders and outrages. While Bacon was engaged in this campaign against the Indians, treachery put it into the power of Berkeley to return to Jamestown and resume his role of governor and tyrant. Two zealous supporters of the recent movement, Bland and Carver, undertook to make a descent upon the eastern shore in two armed vessels, and to take Berkeley prisoner and carry him to Jamestown. With poorly disciplined crews they sailed, and arrived off" the shore where the fugitive was residing, but seem to have hesitated as to their further movements. But treachery was more prompt. One Captain Larrimore commanded one of the vessels, and, from his loud professions, was supposed to be a zealous friend of the revolu- tionary cause. He was, however, a traitor, and, influenced by the hope of reward, he secretly advised Berkeley of the object of the expedition, and arranged for the betrayal of the vessels into the hands of the gov- ernor. Bland and Carver were not the men to lead such an enterprise as they had undertaken. Confident of success, at night they indulged in the pleasures of the wine-cup, and their crews followed their exam- ple. While thus unprepared for any attack, Larrimore, at midnight, con- ducted two boats carrying an armed force of twenty-six men to the vessels. The crews, overcome by wine and sleep, were soon made pris- oners, and Bland and Carver were carried on shore and put in irons. Berkeley was overjoyed at this success, and he hastened to gratify his vindictive spirit. Four days after the capture Carver was hung, and THE PATRIOTS BESIEGE JAMESTOWN. 2O3 Bland met the same fate at a later date, although he pleaded a special pardon from the king, which the governor basely suppressed. Learning that Bacon was absent on his campaign against the In- dians, and that there was no force to resist him at Jamestown, Berkeley collected what force he could, numbering five or six hundred men, and set sail with one large armed vessel and seventeen small craft. Arriving at Jamestown, he landed without opposition, but without any shouts of welcome, and, having devoutly thanked God for his delivery, immediately issued a proclamation against the " rebels," whom he supposed to be already circumvented and defeated. The old cavalier had imbibed the spirit of his royal masters, the Stuarts, and had neither magnanimity nor tact by which he might make friends even among the revolutionists. The "divine right" of the king and his own prerogative as the repre- sentative of royalty had been assailed, and he thought only of vengeance. Bacon and his more prominent associates must be speedily punished. But while the vindictive governor was anticipating his complete tri- umph over the rebellion, Bacon, in his camp near the scene of the bloody battle with the Indians, received intelligence of the change in the condition of affairs at Jamestown. With the promptness of an able general he called upon his followers to march against the domestic foe, and advanced rapidly towards the seat of government. On the march he caused the wives of several prominent royalists, who were found on their plantations, to be brought into his camp, and then sent one of them to announce the capture to their husbands in the town. At sunset, after a march of several days, Bacon's forces reached a gentle eminence near the defences of Jamestown. Their arrival was announced by a sounding of trumpets and the discharge of a volley of musketry, and they immediately went to work digging trenches and throwing up a breast-work for defence. Through the night the work was continued, and the governor and his associates being informed that the captured wives of their royalist friends were exposed on the ram- parts, not a shot was fired from the fort or ships to disturb the be- leaguering force. The next morning, however, Berkeley led out a force of seven or eight hundred men to storm the intrenchment, vainly im- agining that he could drive the "rebels" before him. But the force which he encountered was superior in character and courage to his own 204 BACON'S REBELLION. hireling troops, and met with signal defeat. Utterly routed, and with serious loss, the royalist troops fled, and their leaders narrowly escaped death or captivity. Bacon followed up his success with great vigor, and planting can- non in a position to command the river, he opened fire upon the fleet lying there at anchor. Berkeley placed his chief dependence upon his naval force, and finding it thus exposed to destruction, and having no land force capable of resisting Bacon's men, he was compelled to em- bark with his followers and sail down the river beyond the reach of the hostile cannon. Bacon immediately took possession of Jamestown, and found it utterly deserted. But what to do with it was a serious question. He had no sufficient force to hold it against a formidable attack, and to abandon it, for the royalists again to take possession, would be dangerous to the cause in which he was now enlisted. He therefore proposed that the town should be destroyed, and the propo- sition was approved without hesitation. Two of his friends with their own hands set fire to their respective houses, and soon the torch was applied to all. In a short time the little town was in flames, and the insurgent commander retired with his victorious army. Berkeley had called into the field a considerable force which, under the command of Colonel Brent, was advancing from the upper counties towards Jamestown. Bacon, on learning this, addressed his followers with his usual eloquence, and, informing them of the threatening danger, appealed to them to stand by him and renew the contest. This appeal was responded to with the greatest enthusiasm. His men were ready to follow him to the death. Leaving all superfluous baggage, the whole force hastened forward to meet the enemy. But Brent's force was composed in part of colonists who were infected with the spirit of free- dom, and had no sympathy with the royalist cause they had been sum- moned to defend. They heard with joy of Bacon's success at James- town, and recognizing him as their defender against a savage foe, as well as a patriot leader against the oppression of the royalist government, they refused to march against him, and returned to their homes, leaving Brent with such a meagre following that he was forced to fly for safety. Bacon had accomplished his purpose. Under his patriotic and vig- orous lead the people had asserted their rights, and their oppressors DEATH OF THE LEADER. 2 o 5 had sought safety in flight. A new assembly had been chosen under a free election, and would fairly represent the popular will. The armed force was disbanded, though ready to reassemble at a moment's warn- ing to resist the oppressions of the royal government. The new order of things seemed to be firmly established, and the only fear was that the royalists would receive aid from England, and that the king would re- store his supporters and all the grievances from which the colony had been freed. At this quiet yet critical period Bacon died. He had contracted a fatal disease in camp, and he gradually failed till October, when death saved him from witnessing the ruin of all his work and the overthrow of the liberties of the people, for which he had so zealously and suc- cessfully contended. He had been the soul of the rebellion; around him the people had rallied with enthusiasm, attracted by his chivalrous bearing, and his native qualifications for leadership. They had implicit confidence in his patriotism and abilities, and that confidence was justi- fied by his actions and success. But when he was gone, there was no one capable of filling his place. Already Berkeley and his adherents were gaining courage and strength, and feeling the want of a bold and sagacious leader, the patriot party became discouraged and weak. The royalist governor had sent to England for aid to subdue the rebels, and had organized some forces from the colonists who from prudence or genuine loyalty adhered to the royalist cause. Beverly, a zealous member of his council, sailed up the rivers, and scoured the country in pursuit of the insurgents, who were again taking up arms to resist the return of the oppressor. With no competent leader to command them, the patriots made but a feeble resistance, and becoming discouraged, many retired to their homes. Ingram and Walklate were now in command, but were little qualified to lead the patriot forces, which were soon entirely dispersed. Recovering his lost power, Berkeley indulged his arbitrary and vin- dictive spirit. As soon as any of the men who had been prominent in the insurrection were captured, they were tried by court-martial, con- demned, and hurried to the gallows. Nor did the governor hesitate to insult his victims, nor to pursue with implacable hostility the wives of some of the unfortunate sufferers. When 'William Drummond, one of 206 BACON'S REBELLION. the most prominent men in the colony, and a firm friend of Bacon, was captured, the governor came on shore from his ship, and saluting the prisoner with mock politeness, said, " Mr. Drummond, you are very welcome! I am more glad to see you than any man in Virginia. Mr. Drummond, you shall be hanged in half an hour!" A court-martial, organized on the spot, speedily condemned the unfortunate patriot, and he was executed as soon as a gibbet could be prepared. Not satisfied with this gratification of his vengeance, he afterwards subjected the widow of his victim to fines and confiscation, and would gladly have hanged her too. Berkeley would have indulged his desire for vengeance to a still greater extent than he did, had he not been prevented by the interpo- sition of royal commissioners, sent out to inquire into the state of the colony. These commissioners were accompanied by a regiment of reg- ular troops, sent in response to the governor's demand, to suppress the rebellion. They were authorized to prosecute the war against the insurgents, if necessary, but were instructed to use all means to restore peace, and they brought a royal proclamation of pardon to all the insurgents, excepting only Bacon, who was fortunately beyond the gov- ernor's vengeance or the king's clemency. With some difficulty the commissioners induced Berkeley to discontinue trials by court-martial and return to trial by jury. He had used martial law, he said, in order to insure conviction; for he feared juries would acquit the prisoners. For a time, however, even juries proved pliant tools, and served his purpose, convicting ten persons in one day. Eleven prisoners had been executed under martial law; nine were convicted by jury without appeal and successively hanged; a number were banished from the colony, never to return, and their estates forfeited "to the use of the king," which was virtually to the use of the rapacious governor; others were crushed by enormous fines, levied for the use of the king's troops; and five men were sentenced to appear at their respective county courts, with ropes around their necks, and humbly ask pardon for their " rebellion and treason." Angry that the patriot leader should have escaped his vengeance, Berkeley eagerly sought to find Bacon's remains, that he might insult his memory by exposing them on a gibbet. But in this dastardly attempt THE END OF BERKELEY. he failed; the body of the beloved hero was interred by friends in a retired spot, and covered with massive stones, as if they had a presenti- ment of the hyena-like purpose of the governor. At last there was a reaction, even among his friends, against the governor's vindictive proceedings. Even Charles II. was astonished at the extent of the retribution visited upon the insurgents, and exclaimed, " That old fool has hanged more men in that naked country than I have done for the murder of my father!" The patriot cause had long since been crushed and the old regime restored; there was no longer need for exemplary punishment to deter men from insurrection, for all were quiet and submissive, and vengeance had had enough victims. The assembly convened by Berkeley, and which had proved its devotion to him by its stern and cruel acts against the insurgents, implored him to shed no more blood. He could not longer resist the demand, which had become universal, and feeling that he had lost the respect and excited the disgust and hatred of the colony, he returned to England, hoping to receive his reward in the approval of the king. But in this he was disappointed; the king refused to receive him at court, and, mortified at this indignity from the master whom he had so zealously served, he sank under the infirmities of age, and soon died. The spirit of freedom shown by the people of Virginia when in Bacon's rebellion they asserted their rights, though a long time repressed, was never crushed, and a century later manifested itself still more glo- riously, and with more permanent results. The hero of that revolution was worthy to be ranked with those later patriots who did so much to achieve not only the freedom of the people of Virginia, but the indepen- dence of the American colonies. XXII. THE PILGRIMS AT PLYMOUTH. -m- |N the autumn of 1620, the Mayflower, a small ship of one hundred and eighty tons' burden, and of the short and clumsy model of that time, was buffeting the rough waves of the stormy Atlantic. She bore a precious freight, one hundred and one men, women, and chil- dren, dissenters from the Church of England, flying from religious persecution in their native land to seek a home in the wilderness of the New World, where they could worship God as conscience dictated, and plant the seeds of civil liberty. The billows ran high, and threatening clouds hung darkly over the trackless waste of waters. The imagination might easily see in those clouds the spirits of persecution, with threatening gestures, driving the fugitives on their stormy way, and faith could picture the angels of peace before them beckoning them on to the promised land. Weeks and months passed, sometimes with sunshine to cheer the voyagers, but oftener with clouds and storms to try the steadfastness of their purpose, and the lonely ship still sailed slowly on where sea met sky on every side. The days grew short and cold, and head winds seemed striving to drive them back from the shores they sought. But, trusting in God, they faltered not, and bore the ills of their long and close confinement with steadfast fortitude. Sickness was there, and death compelled them to commit the remains of one of their number to the deep. But despair and discontent never came to disturb the peace or waste the strength of the leaders, though it is not strange that, with 208 ON THE SANDS OF CAPE COD. 209 all the discomforts of their long and perilous voyage, a few should be " not well affected to unity and concord." At length, in November, the expanse of troubled waters was broken by a range of low sand hills, and, barren and cheerless as it appeared, the sight of land was hailed with joy and thanksgiving by the tempest-tossed Pilgrims. They had purposed settling near the mouth of the Hudson, but the ignorant self-will of their captain brought them to the inhos- pitable shores of Cape Cod. After sailing along the cheerless coast for two days, they rounded the extremity of the cape, and anchored in the harbor on its inner side, where the low sand hills protected them from the stormy winds. Cheerless as seemed the shores to which they had been brought, the leading men of the little company landed to examine the place, the gentle slope of the beach compelling them to wade from their boats through the icy waters, and thus to contract the seeds of disease as their first experience in the new w r orld. Desolate and unin- viting sands offered them no place for a settlement, and it was deter- mined to explore the coast in the shallop for a more hospitable region. But the shallop needed repairs, and sixteen weary days were occupied with this work, while the cold increased and winter came on apace. Meanwhile, Bradford, one of the most energetic of the leading men of the company, and Standish, the soldier, who was in himself the chief defence of the projected colony, with a few others, set out to explore the country by land. They toiled through the sands with difficulty, and suffered from the piercing winds, but they found only the same barren country; and weary and disappointed they returned to the ship. Winter was already upon them when the shallop was prepared for an expedition. The sand hills were white with snow, and the shallow inlets were every- where edged with ice, while the spray dashed into the open boat and chilled the explorers through. Landing, they marched through sands and snow, with a stormy sky overhead, finding no vegetation but low bushes and stunted pines, and nowhere a spot which invited them to stop. A heap of maize and many Indian graves were all that was dis- covered. Again the explorers returned, disappointed, to the ship, some of them suffering from colds which resulted in consumption and death. It was already the middle of December when Carver, who had been chosen governor before the Mayflower anchored, Bradford, Winslow, NO. vi. 27 210 THE PILGRIMS AT PLYMOUTH. Standish, and others, with a number of sailors, again set sail in the shal- lop, in further search for a safe haven and a suitable place for a settle- ment. It was of the utmost importance that such a place should be found. Winter was already upon them with a severity to which they were unused, and the women and children were exposed to great suf- fering on board the ship, which might become a prey to the fierce storms. The spray froze on their clothing as it dashed into the little bark, and the cold wind cut them to the marrow. The second day, a portion of the company landed on the shore at the bottom of Cape Cod Bay to explore the interior, while the shallop sailed along the shore. The party on land discovered several deserted wigwams and some Indian graves, but saw no inhabitants, nor found a spot that invited them to stay. At night the whole party encamped on the land, and the next morning, ere they had finished their morning prayers, they were startled by the war-whoop of savages and a flight of arrows from a neighboring thicket. Fortunately no one was hurt, and hastily em- barking in their boat, they gave thanks to God for their escape, and sailed away. The pilot, who professed to have visited these waters on some pre- vious expedition, declared that he knew a good harbor which they might reach before night, and he directed the shallop towards the promised haven. But a fierce storm of snow and rain overtook them, and in the midst of the swollen sea the rudder broke, and they were obliged to steer with an oar. As night approached, the storm increased; but in order to reach the harbor before dark they spread as much sail as they dared. Too much, indeed; for the mast of the little bark broke, and the sails fell overboard. Drifting with the tide, they were approaching the shore, and would have been wrecked in the breakers had not a sailor, more watchful than the frightened pilot, cried out, " About with her, or we are lost!" With desperate energy they succeeded in putting the boat about, and soon entered more quiet waters, under the lee of some land. It was already night, and, shivering with cold and wet, the whole company landed, and with what little wood they could collect built a fire, around which they gathered in wretched plight, and passed a dreary night, fearful lest savages might be guided by the light and make an attack. LANDING ON PLYMOUTH ROCK. 211 When at last morning came, they found that they were on a small island at the entrance of a harbor. It was a safe place ; and, worn out by the fatigue and exposure to storm and cold, they determined to remain there to rest and refit their disabled boat. The following day was Sunday, and was observed with scrupulous fidelity to their religious principles. No work could be performed on the Sabbath, and no explo- ration made, although time was so precious to them, and to their friends and families waiting anxiously in the Mayflower. With devout thanks- giving for their escape from the perils of the sea, and such religious services as circumstances permitted, they passed another day of rest. With the dawn of Monday (December n, old style), they again embarked, and sailed into the harbor, which seemed to them at last, notwithstanding the wintry aspect of the land around it, to be the haven of rest. Reaching the shore, they stepped upon the rock which has ever since been held in reverent memory, and the name of which has become inseparably connected with the principles and institutions which those devout pilgrims brought to New England, and thence spread throughout the continent. With fervent thanks to God, they trod the soil which offered them at last a favorable spot for a settlement. After a brief examination of the place they hastened back to the Mayflower, and in a few days the little ship was moored safely in the harbor, and the whole company prepared to debark. In honor of the port from which they last sailed in England they named the place Plymouth, and piously invoked the blessing of Heaven upon their new home. The Pilgrims came to America under no royal charter. With much difficulty they obtained a patent from the Virginia Company,* but they sought in vain the favor of the king, and all they could obtain was an informal promise of neglect. They were few in numbers, and most of them obscure men, of little account to the commercial or political inter- ests of the kingdom; they were therefore considered as unworthy of royal notice, except that as non-conformists they could not be tolerated in England. But, already accustomed to persecution, they were content with a concession that implied that they should not be disturbed in their right to worship God according to their conscience, and no emigrants * Under one royal patent two companies had been incorporated, the London Company to col- onize South Virginia, and the Plymouth Company to colonize North Virginia. 212 THE PILGRIMS AT PLYMOUTH. could be better prepared to endure the hardships and encounter the perils of a settlement in the wilderness. " We are well weaned," they said, " from the delicate milk of our mother country, and inured to the difficulties of a strange land; the people are industrious and frugal. We are knit together as a body in a most sacred covenant of the Lord, of the violation whereof we make great conscience, and by virtue whereof we hold ourselves straitly tied to all care of each other's good, and of the whole. It is not with us as with men whom small things can dis- courage." They had come with no code prepared by others to govern their conduct and impose duties and obligations upon them, and they recog- nized none except such as religion imposed, or the public will, guided by the Bible, might establish. They knew, however, the necessity of government and order, and even had the strictest notions in regard to them; but they were equal in rank and in rights, and the regulation of their common interests must be by common consent, or the expressed will of the people. Before they landed, therefore, they considered the manner in which their affairs should be regulated, and by a solemn com- pact formed themselves into " a civil body politic." The people of Vir- ginia, after a time, asserted the right to regulate their own affairs, to a certain extent; but the Pilgrims established a popular constitution, under which they were to govern themselves by just and equal laws. This germ of popular constitutional liberty, from which sprang the more complete growth of a later period, was as follows: "In the name of God, Amen: We, whose names are underwritten, the loyal subjects of our dread sovereign King James, having under- taken, for the glory of God and advancement of the Christian faith, and honor of our king and country, a voyage to plant the first colony in the northern parts of Virginia, do, by these presents, solemnly and mutually, in the presence of God and one of another, covenant and combine our- selves together into a civil body politic, for our better ordering and pres- ervation, and furtherance of the ends aforesaid; and by virtue hereof, to enact, constitute, and frame such just and equal laws, ordinances, acts, constitutions, and offices, from time to time, as shall be thought most convenient for the general good of the colony. Unto which we promise all due submission and obedience." FIRE, SICKNESS, AND DEATH. 213 This instrument was signed by all the men of the company, forty- one in number, and John Carver was unanimously chosen governor for a year; the principle of frequently recurring elections being thus recog- nized at the outset. When the colony landed at Plymouth it was thus under a recognized government established by itself for the regulation of its affairs, a democracy planted on soil destined to be the home of democratic institutions. They soon commenced cutting timber, of which there was an abun- dance of excellent quality, the pine predominating, and with tedious labor prepared to build first a common house, and then they divided themselves into nineteen families, and assigned to each a lot of land on which to erect a separate dwelling. Many of the company were suf- fering from lung-fever and consumption, and unable to work, while the cold and the frequent storms were great hinderances to those who could. Hewing plank from the logs was no easy task, and the work of building progressed but slowly. The common house being enclosed and thatched, it was agreed that each family should construct their own house; but the winter had passed before all of them were provided with shelter. Their first house did not last long, for it had been occupied but a few days when it took fire from a spark falling upon the thatch, and was entirely consumed. Governor Carver and Bradford were in the house, sick in their beds at the time, but escaped without harm. Those on board the ship, when they saw the flames, thought that the Indians had made an attack and set fire to the house, but they were prevented by a high wind and low tide from rendering any assistance. The common house being destroyed, the settlers made haste as best they could to build those for the several families. In the mean time sickness was wasting their strength, and death was diminishing their numbers. The cold, exposure, and hardship they suf- fered had sown the seeds of fatal disease. In the month of December six of the little company died, in January eight, in February seventeen, in March thirteen, and in April one, forty-five out of the hundred and one who had crossed the ocean perished within five months. At times it seemed as if there were not enough well ones to take care of the sick and bury the dead. In their greatest strait there were but seven able to render assistance. Among those who died during this period 2I4 THE PILGRIMS AT PLYMOUTH. was Governor Carver, who sank under a sudden attack and did not long survive. He had lost a son since landing at Plymouth, and his wife, broken-hearted under this double affliction, soon followed him to the grave. William Bradford was chosen governor soon after Carver's death, and the choice could not have fallen upon any one in the little company better qualified to fill the place. At this period it would seem that it mattered little who was governor; for the survivors numbered but a few more than fifty, and there were not more than a score of men to make the choice. But the election was made with all proper formality, and under a solemn sense of their duty and privilege. The milder weather of spring brought relief to the sick, and return- ing verdure revived the spirits of all. "The birds sang in the woods most pleasantly." Children venturing to the borders of the forest dis- covered, peering through the dry leaves on sunny slopes, the sweet blossoms of the trailing arbutus, more commonly known as the May- flower, a name which seems to identify it with the Pilgrims and the good ship which brought them to their new home, where this little plant loves best to bloom. The men, who had been accustomed to till the fields before they were driven from England and compelled to learn other employments in Holland, rejoiced when they could turn the light soil, and prepared with hopeful toil their limited gardens. The land on whose shores they had set foot amid the desolation of winter with devout thanksgiving, now wore a more pleasing aspect, and called forth new gratitude. Still they were mourning their dead, and enduring priva- tions, and observing their religious duties with cold austerity, and there was nothing like joy for them. The summer gave them a few vegeta- bles from their scanty garden, but their supplies were limited and their comforts few. Whatever they had, however, was shared in common, and none were favored above others. The colonists at first had a natural fear of the Indians, who were supposed to be numerous throughout the wilderness of the new world. But for some time they scarcely saw a savage. They had found many graves, some hidden stores of corn, and a few deserted wigwams, but, fortunately for their weak condition, living savages were very few. Smoke curling from their cabins in the remote distance was the only APPEARANCE OF INDIANS. 215 indication of the present existence of the natives. Along the coast the Indians were indeed few. Some years previous to the arrival of the Pilgrims a pestilence had swept them away at a fearful rate, and nearly the whole seaboard of New England had been left desolate. Whole tribes had disappeared, those who escaped the pestilence having retired to some more remote region, and joined their kindred tribes. Wan- dering parties of Indians roamed through the woods at intervals, and some had approached the settlement, but when the daring Standish and others attempted to approach them, even with signs of friendship, they fled in apparent alarm. One day, in the spring subsequent to the arrival of the colonists, Sam- oset, an Indian who had learned a little English from fishermen on the coast of Maine, -walked boldly into the little settlement, and with friendly gestures said to the astonished settlers, " Welcome, Englishmen." He belonged to the tribe of Wampanoags, which at a later period waged a desperate war against the whites. In the name of his people he bade the settlers welcome to the land whose former occupants, he said, had all died of the pestilence. This demonstration of friendship greatly relieved the fears of the timid, and cheered the spirits of all. Samoset was treated with great kindness, and left the next day, highly pleased with his entertainment, and the knife, bracelet, and ring which had been given him. He promised to return soon, and to bring some beaver- skins to trade with; and, good as his word, he came on the following Sunday, with five other natives, bringing some tools which the settlers had left in the woods, and a few skins for barter. But, it being the Lord's day, the English refused to trade or hold intercourse with them, and dismissed them with a request that they should come again. Sam- oset, however, remained two or three days, when he was sent to learn why his friends had not returned. Through the good offices of Sam- oset, and by the aid, as interpreter, of Squanto, an Indian who had been kidnapped some years previously and carried to England, but afterwards returned, and who had thus acquired some English, the colonists made a treaty with Massasoit, the sachem of the nearest formidable tribe. This tribe inhabited the region between the Providence and Taunton Rivers, while east of the latter there were only wandering bands, or the remnants of almost extinct tribes. Samoset had probably, by his 2 1 6 THE PIL GRIMS AT PL TMO UTH. account of his visit to Plymouth, induced Massasoit to come and see the strangers for himself. Massasoit appeared, with fifty or sixty followers, on the hill over- looking the settlement. Mutual distrust for some time prevented any advance from either side; but at length Squanto came in with a message from the sachem, and the settlers agreed to send one of their number to parley with him. Mr. Edward Winslow was selected for this service. He accompanied Squanto to the hill, carrying two knives and a copper chain, with a jewel on it, as presents to Massasoit, and a knife and jewel for his brother, together with some biscuit and butter. Mr. Winslow presented these articles with a speech, in which he said that King James saluted him with words of love and peace, and that the governor of the colony desired to see him and establish a firm peace with him as his next neighbor. The sachem accepted the gifts with evident satisfaction, and signified his approval of the friendly sentiments expressed. The provision sent was partaken of by the Indians with apparent relish, and Massasoit then desired to trade with Mr. Winslow for his sword, which was regarded with great admiration by the savage; but the owner was unwilling to part with that useful weapon. Being assured of a friendly reception by the whites, Massasoit, leaving Winslow as a hostage in charge of his brother, went with twenty unarmed men to the settlement to meet the governor. The attempt made by the little band of colonists to receive the native king with due pomp and ceremony is ludicrous. Captain Standish and Mr. William- son, with six musketeers, met the visitors at a brook which they were obliged to cross, and escorted them to a partially constructed house, where a rug and three or four cushions were spread upon the floor. When they arrived at the door, the governor, attended by a drummer and trumpeter and a few musketeers, advanced to meet them. The drum was beat and the trumpet sounded, somewhat to the alarm of the natives, and the governor then saluted his guests with due ceremony, and invited the chief to be seated. Refreshments were then brought, and the settlers undoubtedly did their best to provide a proper entertain- ment out of their scanty stores. But the natives \vere not fastidious, and did full justice to the feast. Having secured the good will and confidence of the Indians, the STANDISH THREATENS DISAFFECTED NATIVES. 217 governor and his associates then commenced a parley with them, and a league of friendship was agreed on, and duly ratified, with proper for- malities. Massasoit was impressed with the friendly reception he had received, and was ready to reciprocate the good will of the English. He promised that he and his people should be friends with the col- onists, and he faithfully kept his promise during his life. For the colonists, in their weak condition, it was a treaty of great importance, and perhaps saved them from utter destruction before they were able to cope with any formidable number of hostile Indians. With Miles Standish, however, for a leader, they were by no means defenceless. Some time after the league of friendship with Massasoit, the services of Standish were required to prevent an attack from some discontented, treacherous savages. Corbitant, a petty chief of Massasoit's tribe, was not disposed to observe the treaty, and attempted to alienate some of his tribe from the more peaceful sachem, and to induce them to join in an attack on the settlement. Squanto and Hobomack, two faithful friends of the English, going to Nemasket, where Corbitant was engaged in his treacherous plot, were threatened with death by that savage. He suc- ceeded in seizing Squanto, but Hobomack made his escape, and going to Plymouth, informed the governor of the designs of the discontented chief. Standish was at once sent with fourteen men, and Hobomack for a guide, to Nemasket, to liberate Squanto and counteract the machina- tions of Corbitant. On their arrival Corbitant and his followers fled, and Standish, explaining to the natives the purpose of his coming, threatened them with dire punishment in case of any insurrection against Massasoit, the Englishman's friend, or of any treacherous movement against the colony. The disaffected natives had gone, and those who remained avowed themselves faithful to Massasoit and the treaty of amity he had made with the English. This bold expedition inspired all the neighboring Indians with re- spect for the English, and, combined with the friendship of Massasoit, who had great influence over most of the tribes, induced a number of petty chiefs to come to Plymouth and solicit the friendship of the Eng- lish. Nine of them came at one time and signified their submission to King James, and their friendship for the colonists. The friendship of Massasoit was indeed a fortunate thing for the colonists, securing them NO. vi. 28 2 1 8 THE PIL GRIMS AT PL TMO UTH. as it did against the attacks of savages, when their small numbers might soon have wasted before continued hostilities. In November, 1621, a ship arrived from England bringing thirty-six persons to join the colony. The voyage had been long, and their sup- ply of provisions was nearly exhausted, and the new-comers were there- fore dependent upon the scanty stores of the colonists for their subsistence. Winter was approaching, the settlers had been able to raise but little in their garden, and the natives, unlike those of Virginia, had no consid- erable stores of corn from which to supply them. The outlook was dreary enough, and it became necessary at once to put the whole com- pany upon half allowance. And thus they passed through the long winter with insufficient food. Men staggered from sheer weakness, and children cried for more food, while the patient matrons often deprived themselves of a portion of their own scanty allowance to answer the cry. For six months and more they were on short allowance, and the effect upon health and strength may be imagined. But they were to suffer severer privation than this at a little later period. In the third year of the settlement the colonists were reduced to the greatest straits. Their supplies were nearly exhausted, and *' they knew not at night where to have a bit in the morning." From the com- mon store a pint of corn was doled out daily to each family, and often this was their only food. Distributed impartially to the members of the household, it gave sometimes but five kernels to each. Five kernels of parched corn to satisfy the long-continued cravings of hunger! Think of it, descendants of the Pilgrims, as ye sit at your bountifully supplied tables, and see the land teeming with plenty, the vast granaries of the West, the countless herds, the fruit-laden orchards, the productive fields, and the white sails of commerce bringing to you the luxuries of every clime! Contrast these conditions, and thank God that the Pilgrims amid their privations planted the seed and nurtured the growth of civil lib- erty under which you enjoy unnumbered blessings. Imagine the sadness that must have clouded the stern visage of the Puritan householder as he counted out to each member of the family the five little kernels that were to preserve them from utter starvation; see the pious resignation of the mother, and the pathetic looks of the uncomplaining children! DEALING OUT THE FIVE KERNELS OF CORN. WEAK CONDITION OF THE COLONISTS. 219 Truly, they who for weary months endured such privations were sus- tained by an undying faith and for a beneficent purpose. For a time the destitute settlers had not even five kernels of corn apiece, for the stock was entirely exhausted, and there was no means of replenishing it. Fortunately they had shell-fish, which are still a luxury in that region, and the bay afforded them other fish. They also procured some limited supplies from fishing-vessels, numbers of which, at that time, resorted to the "banks," and occasionally entered the bay. They endured all this want without murmuring, since they \vere undis- turbed in their religious worship. The system of common property with which the colony began had occasioned some discontent, and had not encouraged industry. It was therefore agreed in 1623 that each family should plant for itself. This plan proved more satisfactory, and men, women, and children went into the field to work. The next year land was assigned in perpetual fee to each head of a family, which led to still more favorable results. In that year they planted sufficient to yield them a fair supply of corn and vegetables, but a severe drought threatened to destroy their crop. From the middle of May to the middle of July not a drop of rain fell, and their corn was so dried up by the scorching rays of the sun on the sandy soil that they began to despair of its being restored, when they were blessed by repeated showers, and the crops reyived, and they were favored with a plentiful harvest. The rains had come after a day of fasting and prayer, and the devout Pilgrims saw in this the special inter- position of Divine Providence. The poor condition of the colonists- during those early years can hardly be conceived at the present day. They were poorly housed, their furniture was rude and scanty, their comforts none. They pounded their little supply of corn in mortars, having no means to erect either wind- mills or water-mills. It was not till the end of the fourth year that they had any cattle, and then only four were brought. During most of the time up to this period spring water was their only drink, and when this, with a small piece of fish without bread, was the best entertain- ment they could offer the friends who came to join them, we may well imagine how sad was the welcome. XXIII. DISAGREEABLE NEIGHBORS -MILES STANDISH AND THE INDIANS. HE Pilgrims commenced their intercourse with the natives in a friendly spirit, and with a purpose to treat them justly, though always without fear. As already related, at the first interview with the natives, after the friend- ly greeting of Samoset, they had formed the memorable treaty with Massasoit, which was faithfully observed by that chief and his followers for more than fifty years, and the obligations of which were as faithfully kept by the colonists. All the tribes or families with which Massasoit had influ- ence were also induced to enter into like friendly relations with the settlers, and soon began to trade with them. As the natives became accustomed to articles which they could obtain only from the English, they were eager for traffic; and when the settlers raised a surplus of corn, they neglected their own poorly-tilled fields, preferring to trade for corn with furs and game rather than resort to irksome toil. With a natural propensity for thieving, some of them stole the articles they coveted an offence which the colonists found it necessary to prevent by occasional punishment. Some of the more remote tribes, however, were less disposed to be friendly. The Narragansetts, inhabiting the region about the bay of that name, were a powerful tribe which had not suffered from the pestilence that had swept away those dwelling near the shores of Massachusetts Bay. They were the enemies of Massasoit, and that sachem was induced to form the alliance with the settlers at Plymouth, in part at least, for 220 ADVENTURERS AT WESSAGUSSET. 221 the sake of strengthening himself against those formidable foes. Canoni- cus, the chief of the Narragansetts, at first desired to establish friendly relations with the white strangers, but because of their alliance with Massasoit, or for some other reason, he changed his mind, and as a token of hostility he sent to Plymouth a bundle of arrows wrapped in the skin of a rattlesnake. The settlers had the spirit of Englishmen, and, whatever alarm they may have felt, were not to be intimidated by any such threat of war. Governor Bradford therefore stuffed the skin with powder and shot, and sent it back to the hostile chief, who knew something of these terrible weapons of the whites, and had such a whole- some fear of them that he again changed his mind. He would not receive the bullets, fearful that they might kill or wound him, and they were moved about from place to place till at last they were returned to the colony. While the Pilgrims took great pains to be on friendly terms with the natives, another company of trading adventurers, less scrupulous, got into a quarrel with them, which led to the shedding of Indian blood by a party of Plymouth settlers. Thomas Weston, a " merchant adventurer " of London, and a prominent member of the Company by whose aid the Pilgrims had come to America, enlisted in the enterprise solely for the purpose of trade. Before the Pilgrims left England he became dis- gusted with them because they thought more of their religious princi- ples than they did of the profits of trade, and when the Mayflower returned without a cargo, he abandoned that enterprise and started an- other. Obtaining a grant, he organized a company of reckless adven- turers and "roughs," picked up from the streets of London, and, in 1622, sent them to establish a trading-post on the shores of Massachusetts Bay. They came in two vessels and landed at Plymouth, the larger ship proceeding on a further trading-voyage, while the smaller remained for the use of the Company. The Pilgrims received them with hospi- tality; but when their character became known, and they showed an aptitude for profane swearing and an aversion to all honest labor, while they did not hesitate to take a liberal share of green corn from the common garden, the pious and industrious settlers were scandalized, and were glad to be rid of them. They went shortly to a place already selected as a proper site for establishing a trading-post, in what is now Weymouth, then called Wessagusset. 222 DISAGREEABLE NEIGHBORS. Without thrift or any other virtue, this reckless company soon found that they had wasted the fair supply of provisions which they had brought, and, with winter before them, they were almost destitute of food. In this strait they applied to the Plymouth colonists to join them in an expe- dition in their small vessel to traffic with the Indians for corn. Gov- ernor Bradford and his associates willingly accepted the proposition, as they also were short of supplies; and accordingly they furnished the active capital for trade in the shape of knives and trinkets, while the Weymouth or Weston's people furnished the vessel, Standish taking command of the expedition. It was intended to go southward towards Virginia, where corn was known to be more plenty, but the boisterous seas outside of Cape Cod deterred them. Standish was taken sick with a fever, and the Indian Squanto, who accompanied them as guide and interpreter, died. They succeeded, however, in obtaining twenty-six hogsheads of unshelled corn and beans, which were equally divided between the two settle- ments. This supply was but a temporary relief to either, and especially to Weston's men, who, regardless of the danger of famine, squandered what little they had, and were soon dependent upon what they could obtain from the natives. They bartered everything they had for food, and even stripped their clothes from their backs and the blankets from their beds. Forced at last to work, they made canoes for the Indians in order to obtain a pitiful subsistence. For lack of ammunition they could shoot no game. They dug a few clams and muscles, they searched the woods for nuts and roots, and were glad enough to shelter their shivering bodies in the cabins of the Indians, and to swallow such pittance of parched corn or porridge as might be offered them. And they did not always show gratitude for the favors received, but while they begged for alms from the needy Indian, they did not hesitate to abuse him. Like " tramps " of a later day, they would steal as well as beg, and the little stores of corn which the natives had carefully hidden would some- times disappear. Familiarity bred contempt, and outrage excited hostility. Beggarly whites, crouching in their cabins, ceased to be objects of respect or fear to the natives, and thieving adventurers soon found cabin and hand closed against them. In their desperation the settlers resolved to have ALLEGED VICARIOUS HANGING. 2 2 3 recourse to violence. But they did not dare to undertake such a dan- gerous exploit alone, and therefore sent a message to Plymouth, pro- posing to Governor Bradford to join them in taking what food they wanted from the Indians by force. The Pilgrims, however, were not the men to approve of such a nefarious piece of business, and though they were suffering, too, for want of sufficient supplies, they replied that the Weymouth settlers could expect no support from them. They advised them to worry through the winter, living on nuts and shell-fish, as they were themselves obliged to do. The hostile demonstration was therefore per force abandoned, but secret depredations were continued. Meanwhile the Indians, seeing the weakness of the demoralized set- tlers, grew aggressive. They retaliated for theft by robbery, and if the sufferer remonstrated, they threatened him with their knives. One of the settlers, having committed a theft, was detected, but escaped to the block-house of the settlement. The Indians made bitter complaint and threats, and the settlers, in alarm, offered to deliver up to them the culprit, to be dealt with as they saw fit. But the savages refused to receive him, and demanded that he should be punished by his own people. The unfortunate man was accordingly hanged by his own friends to appease the wrath of the natives, and nominally to satisfy the law of England, which at that time punished like offences with death. The act may have appeased the wrath of the savages, but it doubtless in- creased their contempt for the settlers. This execution has got into history in a rather ludicrous, but prob- ably unauthentic form. It was alleged that the settlers did not hang the real malefactor, who was an able-bodied and strong man, whom they did not wish to lose, and whom they could not very well manage, but took an old and sick man, and dressing him in the clothes of the cul- prit, hanged him instead. This absurd fiction originated apparently with Thomas Morton, of unsavory memory, the graceless hero of " Merry Mount," but was afterwards repeated by sober historians; and those who disliked the Pilgrims did not hesitate to ascribe to them the adop- tion of this mode of vicarious punishment. The punishment, though inflicted at their demand, did not satisfy the Indians, who grew more hostile, and began to conspire for the destruction not only of Weston's colony, but that at Plymouth also. 224 DISAGREEABLE NEIGHBORS. Massasoit, faithful to his treaty, informed the Pilgrim settlers of the threatening danger, and the Weymouth people learned about it from the indiscreet babbling of an Indian woman. Though thus forewarned, the reckless men at Weymouth took no precautions against a surprise, but mingled freely with the savages as before. One man, however, named Pratt, more cautious and sensible than the rest, resolved to escape to Plymouth. This was no easy matter, for the Indians had built their cabins on all sides, and it was difficult to elude their watchfulness, while, if he were caught stealing away, he would soon be despatched. He started early one morning, and taking a hoe, pretended to be digging clams until he felt sure that he was not specially observed; he then hurried into the woods and made his way towards Plymouth as rapidly as the hard travelling would permit. It was March, and snow still lay in the woods, making it more easy for pursuers to fol- low his tracks. The sky was overcast, and he lost his way; but he travelled on till nightfall, when, cold and weary, he made a little fire in a secluded hollow, and lay down to rest. He was fearful lest the Indians might see the light of his fire, but he was disturbed by noth- ing more frightful than the howling of the wolves. During the night the sky cleared, and seeing the north star he got his bearings; but the next day the sun was again obscured, and he was unable to proceed, and passed another night in his hiding-place. A clear sky the following day cheered his drooping spirits; he hurried forward as fast as his failing strength permitted, and evening found him safe in Plymouth, but utterly exhausted by his difficult and perilous journey. And he was none too soon; for the Indians were not far behind him, and the next morning made their appearance near the settlement. The tidings brought by Pratt confirmed the information previously received by the people of Plymouth. But they had already considered the matter in council, and determined to act promptly and vigorously against the hostile savages. Captain Miles Standish was authorized to take such number of men as he deemed necessary and proceed to Wey- mouth, where he would act according to his judgment. Standish had already had some experience with the Indians who meditated hostility when he went to counteract the schemes of Corbitant, as already related, and he had no very exalted opinion of their real bravery or ability to A DEFIANT INDIAN BEGGAR. 225 cope with well-armed whites. He did not consider it necessary to make a very heavy draft upon the able-bodied men of the colony, and taking only eight men, he embarked in the shallop and sailed to meet the Indian host. Reaching Weymouth, Standish found the vessel belonging to Wes- ton's settlers utterly deserted. A musket was fired as a signal, and attracted the attention of a few half-starved men who were searching for nuts, and they hastened to the shore. Learning that the principal men of the settlement were in the stockade, Standish landed a'nd proceeded thither. After a brief conference with them, he found it was necessary for him to assume command and reduce the chaos to some degree of order. He had brought with him a small quantity of corn from the stock which the Pilgrims had reserved for seed, and limited rations were issued to all the half-starved settlers. He then insisted on some sort of discipline, and the demoralized adventurers found that he was of that sort of stuff that they must obey and that they might rely on. Further steps were delayed by stormy weather; but the Indians, observing an unusual state of things at the stockade, began to suspect that their hostile designs had been discovered, and their chief, Pecksuot, came in to learn what were the intentions of the whites. Then was held a memorable interview, the friendly Hobomok acting as interpreter. The wily chief at first concealed his hostile feelings under preten- sions of friendship, " Begging for blankets and knives, but mostly for muskets and powder, Kept by the white man, they said, concealed, with the plague, in his cellars, Ready to be let loose, and destroy his brother, the red man ! " When these were refused, and he saw by the bearing of Standish that he was regarded as an enemy, he became defiant and boastful, and, as described by the poet Longfellow, " Then he unsheathed his knife, and whetting the-blade on his left hand, Held it aloft, and displayed a woman's face on the handle, Saying, with bitter expression and look of sinister meaning, ' I have another at home, with the face of a man on the handle ; By and by they shall marry ; and there will be plenty of children ! ' " NO. VI. 29 226 MILES STAND I SH AND THE INDIANS. This haughty speech, which the poet has rendered in language no more figurative than the original, was understood to mean war. Standish, however, was by no means alarmed, and in fact regarded the boasting sav- age, spite of his great stature and fierce looks, with feelings akin to con- tempt. Although Pecksuot was in his power, and might have been detained as a prisoner, he suffered him to depart. The detention of their chief might induce the Indians to keep the peace, but he pro- posed to strike a blow which should terrify them into lasting submis- sion by getting as many of them as he could into his power, and then to kill them or keep them "as prisoners. The savage was therefore encouraged to come again, and the next day he made his appearance with his brother Wattawamat and several other Indians. They could not have come with any hostile purpose, or they would not have ven- tured to enter the stockade to encounter superior numbers. But to Standish it seemed a fitting time to strike the contemplated blow. Like Smith, in Virginia, he believed in bold action in order to intimidate the Indians; and to take them unawares, according to their own mode of warfare, seemed the most effective way. Pecksuot, Wat- tawamat, and two others being admitted to the house where Standish and his men were, manifested the unfriendly and boasting spirit which Pecksuot had shown the day before. Suddenly Standish gave a precon- certed signal, and throwing himself upon the savage chief, seized the famous knife which had given point to the speech of the preceding day, " Plunged it into his heart, and, reeling backward, the savage Fell with his face to the sky, and a fiend-like fierceness upon it." At the signal the door was closed, and the Plymouth men, following the example of Standish, fell upon the other Indians. The latter were taken by surprise, but defended themselves bravely, and a hand-to-hand struggle ensued. Wattawamat and another savage were finally killed, and the fourth, a young man, was overpowered and bound, to be after- wards hanged. Four other Indian warriors were within the stockade at the time, and as soon as the struggle within the house was known, Wes- ton's men attacked and killed two of them, and a third was shot by the Plymouth men. One succeeded in escaping, and gave the alarm to his countrymen. A FIGHT WITH INDIANS. 227 This famous deed seems to have been an act of treachery on the part of Standish, more after the mode of warfare of the savages than of civilized men. But the circumstances were such, so weak were the col- onists and so imminent the danger, that prompt, bold, and decisive measures were necessary. Standish understood the treacherous char- acter of the Indians, and knew that only by such a summary and bloody punishment could the execution of their hostile designs be prevented, and that daring, and even treachery, were the most certain means of inspiring respect and fear. At that time, too, the warfare of the civilized soldier was but little better than that of the savage. It is, therefore, no very dark blot on the fair escutcheon of the doughty captain, upon whom was devolved the defence and safety of the colonists. When the warriors within the stockade were thus disposed of, Standish, leaving some Indian women, who had also come within the enclosure, in charge of two or three of his own men and some of the Weymouth settlers, took the rest of the combined force, and marched out in pursuit of the other natives, who by this time had been thor- oughly alarmed. He had not proceeded far when a file of Indians was seen hurrying forward to gain a slight eminence near by. Standish pressed forward to gain the same vantage ground, and succeeded in reaching it first. The Indians, foiled in their attempt to reach this place, sheltered themselves behind the trees, and " Straight there arose from the forest the awful sound of the war-whoop, And, like a flurry of snow on the whistling wind of December, Swift, and sudden, and keen, came a flight of feathery arrows." A volley of musketry responded to this greeting of the ruder weap- ons of the natives, and then, with Hobomok, the friendly Indian, in advance, the whites rushed forward. The fleet-footed Indians fled to a neighboring swamp, into the thickets of which it was impossible to follow them with advantage, and finding the pursuit useless, Standish returned to the stockade. The Indian women were then set at liberty, and the young warrior who had come with Pecksuot was hanged. Thus ended the first contest of the Plymouth settlers with the In- dians. The number of natives enlisted in the plot of Pecksuot was probably not very large, for the influence of Massasoit retained most of 228 MILES STANDISH AND THE INDIANS. those inhabiting this region in peace, and hostilities were not continued, the occasion which had provoked them soon being removed. The Indians justly regarded Weston's colonists as at once robbers, beggars, and cowards, and they were therefore disposed to avenge their wrongs, and remove what to them was a nuisance. The bearing and action of Standish and his followers soon taught them that the Plymouth men were of a different stamp. When the Pilgrim captain first appeared at Weymouth, his short stature was derided by the insolent and defiant Pecksuot, who was tall and athletic. " He is a little man ; let him go and work with the women ! " was the style in which he spoke of Standish. He soon found that the " little man " was more than a match for him, and his followers probably thought with Hobomok, "Pecksuot bragged very loud of his courage, his strength, and his stature, Mocked the great captain, and called him a little man ; but I see now Big enough have you been to lay him speechless before you ! " While, therefore, the Plymouth people did not wrong the Indians, and cultivated friendly relations with them, they taught them also that in war they were to be feared, and, by a vigorous blow at the right time, they secured peace. Though relieved from immediate danger, and able, by a reasonable display of courage and discretion, to hold their position against any hos- tile force of Indians that was likely to attack them, Weston's adven- turers, thoroughly demoralized and intimidated, determined to abandon their settlement. Such a termination of the enterprise of these " hea- thenish " adventurers, who had boasted their superiority over the Plym- outh colony, was by no means displeasing to the Pilgrims, and Standish threw no obstacles in the way of their departure, but aided them from his small. stock of corn. The greater part of them embarked in their vessel and sailed away for the coast of Maine, where Weston was en- gaged in other enterprises; and the others went with Standish to Plymouth. Three unfortunates remained, being at that time domesti- cated among the Indians. It was afterwards learned that they were all put to death. STANDISH RETURNS IN TRIUMPH. When Standish returned to Plymouth after this, "his capital exploit," he carried the head of Wattawamat, to be exposed on the block-house as a terror to all evil-disposed Indians. Arriving safely, he landed, and with his victorious army of eight men, one of whom bore aloft on a pole the ghastly trophy of the expedition, followed by the refugees from Weymouth, he marched into the little settlement to the block-house, which was also "meeting-house" and council chamber. Men, women, and children came out to welcome the victors, not with noisy rejoicings, but with silent thanksgiving for their safe return, and fearful gaze at the token of their bloody work. Women shuddered as they beheld the ghastly head, and children clung closer to their mothers, while the magistrates with solemn look followed the little procession to the block-house. Then, after due religious services, the trophy was placed upon a corner of the block-house, where it might be seen by all Indian visitors, and be a warning against any hostile schemes. Though the pious Pilgrims, knowing the perils to which they were exposed, could not but approve of the stern measures of Standish, their good old minister, John Robinson, who had experienced none of the hardships or dangers of a life in the wilderness, surrounded by treach- erous and cruel savages, was greatly disturbed when he received intelli- gence of the slaughter at Weymouth. He sent a letter from Leyden to his distant flock, gently condemning Standish as one " wanting that tenderness of the life of man which is meet." In his desire to save the souls of the heathen, he wrote, K O, how happy a thing had it been if you had converted some before you had killed any ! " XXIV. WINSLOW'S VISIT TO MASSASOIT. IN contrast with the expedition of Standish against the Indians at Weymouth, one undertaken by Mr. Edward Winslow, shortly before, by direction of Governor Brad- ford, shows another phase of the Pilgrim character. This was a visit to Massasoit at his home in Pokanoket, on which occasion the old sachem, faithful to his league, gave information of the plot which it was the mission of Standish to defeat by the " capital exploit " already related. The peaceful errand can best be narrated in Winslow's own words, which show the spirit of the Plymouth colonists in their inter- course with the Indians. " News came to Plymouth that Massasoit was dangerously sick, and that there was a Dutch ship driven upon the shore near his house. Now, it being the manner of the Indians when any, especially when persons of note are sick, for all who profess friendship to them to visit them in their extremity, either in person or by sending others, there- fore it was thought meet that, as we had ever professed friendship, we should manifest it by observing this, their laudable custom, and the rather because we desired to have some conference with the Dutch. The governor laid this service upon me, and having furnished me with some cordials to administer to Massasoit, I, in company with Mr. Hamden and Hobomok, set out, and lodged the first night at Namasket, where we had friendly entertainment. '* The next day, about one o'clock, we came to a ferry in Corbitant's 230 HOBOMOK'S LAMENT. country, where, upon discharge of my gun, divers Indians came to us from a house not far distant. They told us that Massasoit was dead, that he was buried that day, and that the Dutch would be gone before we could reach there, they having hove off their ship already. This news greatly damped our spirits, and Hobomok was so disheartened that he desired we might return with all speed. But considering that Massasoit being dead, Corbitant would most likely succeed him, that we were not above three miles from Mattapoiset, his dwelling-place, and that this would be a favorable time to enter into more friendly terms with him, on condition Mr. Hamden and Hobomok would accompany me, I resolved to proceed, though I perceived that it would be attended with danger in respect to our personal safety. " In the way, Hobomok manifested a troubled spirit, breaking out in the following language: ( Neen ivomasu sagimus, neen ivomasu sagi- musj &c. ' My loving sachem! my loving sachem! many have I known, but never any like thee.' And turning to me, he said, 'Whilst I live, I shall never see his like amongst the Indians; he was no liar; he was not bloody and cruel, like other Indians. In anger and passion he was soon reclaimed, easy to be reconciled towards those who had offended him, ruled by reason, not scorning the advice of mean men ; governing his men better with few strokes than others did with many; truly lov- ing where he loved; yea, he feared the English had not a faithful friend left among the Indians,' &c., continuing a long speech, with such signs of lamentation and unfeigned sorrow as would have affected the hard- est heart. "At length, we came to Mattapoiset; but Corbitant was not at home, he having gone to Pokanoket to visit Massasoit. The squaw sachem gave us friendly entertainment. Here we inquired again concerning Mas- sasoit; they thought him to be dead, but did not certainly know. Where- upon I hired one to go with all expedition to Pokanoket, that we might know whether he was living or not. About half an hour before sunset the messenger returned, and told us that he was not yet dead, though there was no hope we should find him living. Upon this intelligence we were much revived, and set forward with all speed. It was late at night when we arrived. " When we came to the house, we found it so full of men that we 232 WINSLOW'S VISIT TO MASSASOIT. could scarcely get in, though they used their best endeavors to make way for us. We found them in the midst of their charms for him, making such a noise as greatly affected those of us who were well, and therefore was not likely to benefit him who was sick. About him were six or eight women, who chafed his limbs to keep heat in him. When they had made an end of their charming, one told him that his friends, the English, were come to see him. Having understanding left, though his sight was wholly gone,, he asked who was come. They told him, Winslow. He desired to speak with me. When I came to him, he put forth his hand, and I took it. He then inquired, ' Keen WinslowV ' which is to say, 'Art thou WinslowV I answered, ^Ahhe'," 1 that is, 'Yes.' Then he said, * Malta neen -wouckanet namen, Winslow; ' that is to say, ' O Winslow, I shall never see thee again.' I then called Hobo- mok, and desired him to tell Massasoit that the governor, hearing of his sickness, was sorry; and though, by reason of much business, he could not come himself, yet he sent me with such things as he thought most likely to do him good in his extremity, and that, if he would like to par- take of it, I would give it to him. He desired that I would. I then took some conserve on the point of my knife, and gave it to him, but could scarce get it through his teeth. When it had dissolved in his mouth, he swallowed the juice of it. When those who were about him saw this, they rejoiced greatly, saying that he had not swallowed any-- thing for two days before. His mouth was exceedingly furred, and his tongue much swollen. I washed his mouth, and scraped his tongue, after which I gave him more of the conserve, which he swallowed with more readiness. He then desired to drink. I dissolved some of the conserve in water, and gave it to him. Within half an hour there was a visible change in him. Presently his sight began to come. I gave him more, and told him of an accident we had met with in breaking a bottle of drink the governor had sent him, assuring him that if he would send any of his men to Patuxet (Plymouth), I would send for more. I also told him that I would send for chickens to make him some broth, and for other things, which I knew were good for him, and that I would stay till the messenger returned, if he desired. This he received very kindly, and appointed some, who were ready to go by two o'clock in the morning, against which time I made ready a letter. MASSASOIT RESTORED TO HEALTH. 2 33 " He requested that, the day following, I would take my gun and kill him some fowl, and make him some pottage, such as he had eaten at Plymouth; which I promised to do. His appetite returning before morning, he desired me to make him some broth without fowl before I went out to hunt. I was now quite at a loss what to do. I, however, caused a woman to pound some corn, put it into some water, and place it over the fire. When the day broke, we went out to seek herbs; but it being early in the season, we could find none except strawberry leaves. I gathered a handful of them, with some sassafras root, and put them into the porridge. It being boiled, I strained it through my handkerchief, and gave him at least a pint, which he liked very well. After this his sight mended more and more, and he took some rest. We now felt constrained to thank God for giving his blessing to such raw and ignorant means. It now appeared evident that he would recover, and all of them acknowledged us as the instruments of his preservation. "That morning he caused me to spend in going from one to another of those who were sick in town, requesting me to wash their mouths also, and to give to each of them some of the same that I gave him. This pains I willingly took. " The messengers which had been sent to Plymouth had by this time returned; but Massasoit, finding himself so much better, would not have the chickens killed, but kept them, that they might produce more. Many, whilst we were there, came to see him, some of them, according to their account, came not less than a hundred miles. Upon his re- covery, he said, 'Now I see that the English are my friends, and love me, and whilst I live I will never forget this kindness which they have shown me.' While we were there, we were better entertained than any other strangers. " As we were about to come away, he called Hobomok to him, and revealed to him a plot the Massachusetts had formed to destroy the English. He told him that several other tribes were confederate with them; that he, in his sickness, had been earnestly solicited to join them, but had refused, and that he had not suffered any of his people to unite with them. He advised us to kill the men of Massachusetts, who were the authors of this intended mischief. When we took leave of him, he NO. vi. 30 234 WINSLOWS VISIT TO MASSASOIT. returned many thanks to the governor, and expressed much gratitude to us for our labor of love. So did all who were about him." As related in preceding pages, the Plymouth colonists acted upon Massasoit's advice, though not to the extent which the old savage sug- gested. The Massachusetts tribe, decimated by the pestilence a few years before, was weak in numbers, and a show of fearlessness on the part of the whites, and the killing of their leaders, were sufficient to prevent further hostile schemes. Though the Plymouth colonists had the greatest confidence in Standish as their sure defence in time of danger, their policy was, while showing the savages that they were not afraid, to avert danger by conciliating them, so long as they did not manifest a hostile dispo- sition. .In the intercourse with the Indians, Winslow, who was as fear- less as Standish, though of a gentler disposition, was of great service. As in his visit to Massasoit, he was ever ready to do them a kindness, and in this, as well as in his more important and public services to the colony, he was one of the most useful of its leading men. The amicable policy commenced under such auspices made it easier for Massasoit to observe his treaty, and Plymouth was undisturbed by In- dian hostilities till Philip, the restless son of the old sachem, at last precipitated his terrible war. XXV. MERRY MOUNT.-STANDISH SUPPRESSES A NUISANCE. APTAIN MILES STANDISH was a most important and serviceable person in the Plymouth Colony. He had been trained as a soldier in Flanders, was brave, discreet, and ready for any honorable service. Joining the little company of Pilgrims, he was chosen their mil- itary officer, or captain, to take charge of all measures for defence, and in hostile movements to have command of the fighting men. That he possessed all the requisites for such a post is shown by the incidents already related. As, in Mr. Longfellow's beautiful poem, his friend John Alden describes him to Priscilla, "He was a gentleman born, could trace his pedigree plainly Back to Hugh Standish of Duxbury Hall, in Lancashire, England, Who was the son of Ralph, and the grandson of Thurston de Standish ; Heir unto vast estates, of which he was basely defrauded. He was a man of honor, of noble and generous nature ; Though he was rough, he was kindly; she knew how during the winter He had attended the sick, with a hand as gentle as woman's ; Somewhat hasty and hot, he could not deny it, and headstrong, Stern as a soldier might be, but hearty, and placable always, Not to be laughed at and scorned, because he was little of stature ; For he was great of heart, magnanimous, courtly, courageous." 235 236 MERRY MOUNT. In 1628, Captain Standish was called upon to render the colony a service somewhat different from that performed at Weymouth. but one which seemed to the rigid and exemplary Pilgrims quite as important as to fight the Indians. To the mere soldier it might not have seemed so honorable a service; but Standish was a magistrate, and shared the feelings of his associates, while he was ready for any duty which he might be called upon to perform. In 1625, a Captain Wollaston, with several associates and a company of hired men, arrived in Massachusetts Bay with the intention of estab- lishing a trading-post, and he selected for that purpose a moderate eleva- tion in what is now Quincy, and which was duly named, in his honor, Mount Wollaston. After a short stay, however, Wollaston and one of his partners, with a part of the company, departed for Virginia, leaving a Mr. Fitcher in command. One of the company who remained was Thomas Morton, a man of good education, but of a reckless character and vicious habits. He had been a barrister, but the inns of court prob- ably had less attraction for him than some other inns. In what capacity he had come to America does not appear, but the capacity in which he chose to appear was manifested soon after Captain Wollaston left. The rest of the company were wild and dissolute adventurers, most or all of whom had come out for hire. They were just the men to follow such a mischief-maker as Morton, and he was just the sort of dem- agogue to court and pander to such a set of vagabonds. He soon con- spired with them against Fitcher, deposed him from command, and drove him away from the post to live with the savages, or make the best of his way to Plymouth or elsewhere. Morton now became, not the commander of the company, but simply chief of the vagabonds, and master of carousals, which seemed to be the chief purpose of the existence of the establishment. The name of Mount Wollaston was changed to Mare Mount, or Merry Mount, and Morton's efforts were directed to make the life of the company befitting the name of the place. They continued to trade with the Indians for beaver-skins, but, not content with trading, they induced the natives, men and women, to join in their revelry. The Indians, obtaining a taste of " fire-water," soon became as drunken a set as their entertainers, and the scenes of debauchery and vice which sometimes followed may SCANDALOUS PROCEEDINGS. 237 be imagined. Near the house Morton erected a May-pole, eighty feet high, and crowned with the antlers of a deer. To this he would fasten copies of ribald verses, of which he was the author, and bringing out a cask of wine or stronger drink, he would conduct the unseemly revels of the company. To some staid and pious settlers at Weymouth, who had succeeded Weston's idle crew, and a few others scattered about on the shores of Boston Bay, these proceedings were scandalous, and the Pilgrims at Plymouth heard of the ungodly revelry with disgust and indignation. But soon they had more manifest cause of complaint; for this reckless company, when they traded, were by no means scrupulous in the manner of conducting their business, and in exchange for beaver-skins did not hesitate to give liquor, fire-arms, and ammunition. The Indians, having become familiar with these dangerous articles by their association with the revellers, soon had a special desire for them, and were unwilling to trade for anything else. The consequence was that savages were prowl- ing about the woods with guns, and coming near the exposed dwellings of solitary settlers, created no little alarm. With liquor inflaming their brains, and fire-arms in their hands, these savages were dangerous vis- itors. The settlers thus exposed sent remonstrances to the dwellers on Merry Mount, but these were received by Morton and his confederates with derision and insult. He found, indeed, that with these articles of traffic he could drive a brisker business than with the ordinary trifles used for barter with the Indians, and he proposed to carry it on upon a larger scale. The settlers, thus exposed to the dangers created by the reckless adventurers of Merry Mount, and scandalized by their wicked practices, applied to the Plymouth colonists for aid. The Pilgrims, who had carefully provided against furnishing the natives with fire-arms, and who were shocked at the rumors of the vicious life led by Morton and his followers, determined to abate the nuisance, and accordingly sent Miles Standish, with a small party of men, to perform that service. His mis- sion was to be fulfilled in a less bloody manner than that to subdue the truculent Pecksuot, but it was none the less sternly to be performed. Morton at this time was at Weymouth, whither he sometimes went, perhaps to enjoy better company than that of the ignorant knaves who 238 STANDISH SUPPRESSES A NUISANCE. shared his revels, and perhaps to annoy the more pious settlers by his humorous and profane talk and shameless conduct; but he seems to have withdrawn to Merry Mount, either before or after Standish arrived at Weymouth. Thither Standish and his men proceeded, and found the offender against peace and decency shut up with his followers in his house, and the whole company appear to have been laying in a good supply of " Dutch courage." The Pilgrim account thus relates what followed: " So they resolved to take Morton by force. The which accordingly was done; but they found him to stand stifly in his defence, having made fast his doors, armed his consorts, set diverse dishes of powder and bullets ready on y e table; and if they had not been over-armed with drinke, more hurt might have been done. They somaned him to yeeld, but he kept his house, and they could get nothing but scofes and scorns from him; but at length, fearing they would doe some violence to y 6 house, he and some of his crue came out, but not to yeeld but to shoote; but they were so steeld with drinke as their peeces were too heavie for them; him selfe with a carbine (overcharged and allmost half fild with powder and shote, as was after found) had thought to have shot Captaine Standish; but he stept to him, and put by his peece, and took him. Neither was there any hurt done to any of either side save y' one was so drunke y l he rane his own nose upon y e point of a sword y' was held before him as he entred y* house; but he lost but a little of his hott blood." Morton himself not a very veracious chronicler gave a quite different account of the affair, and after his usual humorous manner. In his book called the "New English Canaan," he wrote that the Plymouth men " set upon " him at Weymouth, and made him prisoner, " that they might send him for England (as they said) there to suffer according to the merit of the fact, which they intended to father upon him." The captors, according to Morton, " feasted their bodies and fell to tippeling," while he abstained from eating and drinking that he might be more watchful. Six persons were set to watch him, one lying on the same bed with him; but in the dead of night he arose and got through the second door notwithstanding the lock, and shut it with such violence that it awoke the sentinels. MORTON DISPOSED OF. 239 " The word which was given with an alarm," continues the humorous Morton, "was, ' O, he's gon, he's gon; what shall we doe? He's gon.' The rest (halfe asleep) start up in a maze, and like ranies, ran theire heads one at another full butt in the darke." Captain Standish is said to have torn his clothes for anger "to see the empty nest." " The rest were eager to have torne theire haire from theire heads, but it was so short that it would give them no hold." Morton having reached Merry Mount, tells how Standish and his eight men appeared " before the denne of this suppozed monster," and that " to save the effusion of so much worthy bloud as would have issued out of the vaynes of these nine worthies of New Canaan," if he had fired upon them through his port-holes, he " was content to yeeld upon quar- ter, and did capitulate with them." But he had no sooner opened the door than Standish and the rest laid hold his arms and " fell upon him as if they would have eaten him." By this " outrageous riot " these fierce assailants made themselves masters of Merry Mount. Such is the substance of the humorous Morton's account of his cap- ture. As he was the originator of the story of the vicarious hanging mentioned in a preceding page, his report of his own exploits and suf- ferings will hardly outweigh the sober chronicles of the Pilgrims. Morton was taken to Plymouth, where he was held for some time, till an opportunity offered of sending him to England. The establish- ment at Merry Mount was broken up, and the dangerous trade in liquor and fire-arms with the Indians was stopped. Standish had rendered another service to the settlers, bloodless indeed, but perhaps not less important than the foiling of the schemes of Pecksuot and his confed- erates; for a general distribution of fire-arms among the Indians would have made them more formidable and more disposed to hostilities. Morton, however, returned to Massachusetts, and gave the settlers some further trouble and anxiety, but he was again summarily dis- posed of. Miles Standish, as the defender of the rights of the Plymouth col- ony, was engaged in another adventure, in which he came near shed- ding the blood of some of his countrymen, but which fortunately resulted in nothing but hard words, with no laurels for the doughty 240 STANDISH ASSERTS THE RIGHTS OF PLYMOUTH. captain. The Pilgrims, in 1624, sent a party to Cape Ann to catch and salt fish, and this party then constructed a fishing stage on which to cure their fares. The next year, when a like party went, under Standish, who commanded all such expeditions, they found the fishing stage in possession of some strange adventurers. Standish, with the spirit of a soldier, peremptorily demanded possession of the stage, and the adven- turers as peremptorily refused to surrender it, and barricading it with hogsheads, avowed their intention to hold it at any cost. Words waxed hot and profane, and there was a prospect of blows, and perhaps blood- shed, when, through the good offices of Roger Conant, who had pre- viously been with the Pilgrims, the dispute was settled by the trespassers agreeing to build another fishing stage. Says an historian not friendly to the Plymouth colony, in this instance at least: "A little chimney is soon fired; so was the Plymouth^ captain, a man of very little stature, yet of a very hot and angry temper. The fire of his passion soon kindled, and, blown up into a flame by hot words, might easily have consumed all, had it not been seasonably quenched." * This is a harsh and unjust judgment of Standish, and, as said by the friends of the Plymouth colony, " it does not appear that his conduct was reprehensible. He acted under authority, and was sent to enforce a manifest right." "The best apology for Captain Standish is, that as a soldier he had been accustomed to discipline and obedience; that he considered himself as the military servant of the colony, and received his orders from the governor and people." The Plymouth colonists had occasion to rid themselves of two other men more obnoxious than even Morton, though in a different way. Ly- ford, a clergyman of the established Church, came to Plymouth to be their pastor, though his religious opinions were adverse to those of the Pilgrims. He found, however, one hearty sympathizer in John Oldham, who considered the Pilgrims altogether too strict in their notions to suit his taste. He was a daring, sensual, and passionate man, who loved his dinner better than his spiritual good, and by no means enjoyed the long prayers and sermons of the pious elders of Plymouth. He preferred the reading of the Prayer Book, and the jolly life which was not incon- . . v Hubbard. IGNOMINIOUS BANISHMENT OF OLDHAM. 241 sistent with its use, as in Old England, and he joined with Lyford in insisting upon its use. When the Plymouth elders gave Lyford the cold shoulder, he found in Oldham a stanch supporter, and the two soon began to stir up dis- sensions among the settlers who were not members of the Plymouth church. They also wrote letters to England ridiculing and defaming the colonists. Governor Bradford, hearing of this, boarded a ship about to sail and examined the letters, deeming himself justified in this arbitrary proceeding by his duty to the colony. Finding what the character of the letters was, he reserved them for future use. Lyford and Oldham were called to account, and the letters were produced against them. This seditious conduct was not to be tolerated, and the Plymouth fathers promptly sent them away. Oldham, however, having been pardoned on account of professed penitence, returned more outspoken and malignant than ever. He called the leading men of the colony rebels and traitors, and fiercely denounced the magistrates and elders to their face. Being arrested and brought before the council, he defied the grave assembly in the most violent terms, and appealed to those whom he supposed to be disaffected to show their courage by action. " Now is the time," he cried; "if you will do anything, I will stand by you." No one re- sponded to this appeal, and the furious disturber of the peace of Plym- outh was placed in confinement till his wrath should have time to cool. The magistrates meanwhile considered what they should do with the offender, and at the suggestion perhaps of Standish, they soon determined that he should be ignominiously banished again. Accordingly two files of soldiers were formed, and Oldham was compelled to pass between them, each soldier being ordered to give him a thump on the back with the butt end of his musket. The soldiers obeyed the order with alac- rity, and the culprit received many an ignominious "thump," admin- istered with a will, as he passed along towards the shore, where he was placed in a boat, with a warning of severer punishment if he ventured into Plymouth again. NO. VII. 31 XXVI. CHARTER AND GOVERNMENT OF THE PLYMOUTH COLONY. |/| psl HE colonists of Plymouth had established themselves in '/ :S &4* the new world, and exercised self-government, without any charter or royal patent. But the year after their arrival, through the influence of Sir Ferdinand Gorges, who took a deep interest in colonizing America, a patent was granted by the Council of Plymouth to John Pierce, in trust for the colonists. Pierce, however, looked after his own interests rather than those of the settlers, and being ambitious to become lord proprietary, and to hold the settlers as tenants, he obtained a new patent without the knowledge of the colonists, and with much larger powers. To avail himself of his antici- pated profits, in the autumn of 1622 and the beginning of 1623, he made repeated attempts to send a ship to New England, but it was forced back by- storms. In the last attempt, when Pierce himself em- barked with one hundred and nine persons, the vessel was nearly wrecked; and, discouraged by his failures and his losses, he was glad to assign his patent to the company. It had cost him fifty pounds, and he transferred it for five hundred. Another ship was hired to trans- port the passengers, and it arrived at Plymouth in July, 1623. A small vessel was also soon after built to remain with the colony, and sent over with about fifty passengers who were anxious to join their brethren. All efforts to obtain a charter from the king failed, but, under the grants from the Council of Plymouth, the colonists, though they had no 242 CHARACTER AND GROWTH OF THE COLONT. 243 right to assume a separate jurisdiction, did not hesitate to exercise, for the public weal, the rights of self-government. They made laws for the punishment of offences, and for minor crimes executed them without hesitation, though it was not without many scruples that they ventured to inflict capital punishment. Offences, however, were not frequent, for among their small numbers there were but few lawless adventurers. They desired that none should come who were not in sympathy with their religious views. At one time the Council of Plymouth, under the influence of Sir Ferdinand Gorges, who was a bigoted supporter of the Church of England, sent over with Robert Gorges a clergyman of that church with somewhat extraordinary powers to supervise religious mat- ters in the colony. That clergyman, however, was a man of discretion, and, though he remained a year with the Pilgrims, he did not seek to exercise his authority or to make any trouble. He was delighted with the country, and occupied himself in writing poor verses in its praise. Another clergyman, who, by his open hostility to the Pilgrim fathers, his pernicious teaching, and immoral conduct, became exceedingly obnoxious, was driven without ceremony from the colony. John Robinson, the pious and excellent pastor who had led his flock from persecution in England to the more tolerant atmosphere of Hol- land, earnestly desired to follow the early settlers to Plymouth, but a faction in the Council of Plymouth had persistently opposed his going; and, disappointed in his most ardent hopes, he died at Leyden in 1625. The intelligence of his death was received with the deepest sorrow, for though the settlers had the good Elder Brewster with them, they had looked forward to the time when their beloved minister should join them. Robinson's wife and children, however, subsequently, with others of the original flock, joined their friends at Plymouth. The growth of the colony was exceedingly slow. The lands were not fertile, and neither the country nor the Pilgrims encouraged the com- ing of adventurers and fortune-hunters. As already seen, those of that class planted themselves outside the immediate jurisdiction of the Pilgrims. At the end of ten years there were not more than three hundred per- sons in the colony. But though few in numbers, they were strong in purpose and in their devotion to the principles of civil and religious liberty. Accustomed to toil and hardship, they endured what emigrants 244 CHARTER AND GOVERNMENT OF PLYMOUTH COLONT. of more luxurious antecedents never could have survived. Amid adver- sity they trusted in God, and toiled on patiently and hopefully. Cold, famine, sickness, death, seemed to pursue them; withered crops and houses destroyed by fire* brought discouragement; but, rejoicing in the liberty of conscience, they took deep root in the soil, and planted there the principles of self-government under which a nation has grown up. The frame of government adopted by the Pilgrims, in the absence of charter provisions, was very simple. A governor was chosen by general suffrage, but his power was always subordinate to the will of the majority; and, by Governor Bradford's desire, a council of five was chosen, and, at a later date, seven assistants, to share the responsibili- ties of government, the governor having a double vote. For more than eighteen years the colony was a pure democracy, the whole body of male inhabitants meeting together to pass laws and to decide exec- utive and judicial questions. When, however, the population materially increased, and the settlements were scattered over a wider territory, the representative system was introduced, and each settlement sent its del- egates to the "general court." In this way the affairs of the colony were for a long time quietly and successfully administered, little dis- turbed by some of the serious questions which excited the people of the larger colony of Massachusetts. * When Captain Robert Gorges was at Plymouth, some of the sailors from his ship were on shore celebrating Guy Fawkes' day, November 5, before a large fire in one of the houses. The thatch took fire, and, rapidly consuming that house, extended to several others, which were also destroyed. The common storehouse narrowly escaped, and the colonists were thus saved from still greater suffering, if not utter ruin. XXVII. THE PILGRIM LEADERS. JlIE most prominent men among the Plymouth colonists were Carver, Bradford, Winslow, Brewster, Standish, Al- lerton, and Hopkins. The Rev. John Robinson, who led the Pilgrims out of England to Holland, remained behind with the larger part of his people when the little com- pany of emigrants left Leyden. He never came to Plymouth, much to the regret of the settlers. Those members of the London Company who supported the established church opposed his coming; and in the place of this beloved pastor they sent Lyford, who, with the Book of Common Prayer, stirred up dissension and got himself banished. John Carver, who was chosen governor in the cabin of the May- flower, was a man possessed of good estate in England, which he had freely devoted to the cause of a purified religion, and in aid of those who were persecuted for espousing it. He was quiet and dignified in bearing, though he made himself a co-laborer with his people and a sharer of their hardships and privations. While he lived he was a father to the colonists, for whose safety and welfare he faithfully labored. He did not live long to serve them, for in the April following the landing he was stricken with sudden illness and died. He was buried with such honors as the poor settlers could bestow, and " the discharge of some volleys of shot by all that bore arms." William Bradford, who succeeded Carver as governor, was a younger man, being at that time thirty-two years of age. He had been bred a farmer in Yorkshire, and had few advantages of early education; but he 2 45 246 THE PIL GRIM LEADERS. educated himself, mastering several languages, and becoming fairly versed in history. At an early age he fell in with Robinson and his friends, and adopted their religious views. He joined them when they fled from persecution and effected their escape to Holland, and he freely used his limited means for their advantage. He was a man of energy and sagacity, and from the inception of the enterprise of coming to America did good service by his advice and activity. At Plymouth he was brave, prompt, and firm. He showed a bold front to the Indians, and he suppressed any turbulent or unruly spirit which manifested itself in the colony. Serving many years as governor, he proved himself worthy of the confidence of the colonists, for whose interests he at all times labored. That he had that confidence is shown by their action in electing him governor annually as long as he lived, with the exception of five years, when he declined an election. Edward Winslow belonged to the class of " gentlemen " in England, and while on his travels over Europe he first met Robinson and his Pilgrim church at Leyden. He was a young man, being but twenty-four or twenty-five years of age at that time, but he found in the teachings of Robinson that which appealed to his heart and conscience, and he joined the church. He was more accomplished as a scholar than his associates, , and by nature he possessed an address which adapted him to various services of great importance to the infant colony. He made nearly all the negotiations with the Indians, in whom he inspired good will, and with the Company and government in England. He was active, too, and made frequent journeys into the wilderness, visiting Massasoit in his illness, and cheering Roger Williams by his kindly words. He also went to see for himself the fertile valley which the Indians said lay at the west, and he thus became the " discoverer " of Connecticut. He visited England a number of times on business for the colony, and while there in 1635 he was imprisoned by Archbishop Laud because he had presumed to " teach " in the church, and as a magistrate had performed the ceremony of marriage, which the archbishop claimed was not a civil contract, but a sacrament, which no layman could perform. William Brewster, known as Elder Brewster, having been ruling elder in the church at Leyden, was well advanced in years when he came over in the Mayflower. He was educated at Cambridge, and was BREWSTER. STANDISH. ALLERTON. HOPKINS. 247 afterwards in the public service at the court of Queen Elizabeth, and he was a man of larger experience in worldly affairs than most of his associates. But he was also a stanch supporter of the religion which was growing up in opposition to the English hierarchy, and when he left his public employment he returned to his home in Lincolnshire, where he organized a church in his own house. Flying from persecu- tion to Holland, he devoted himself to the cause of religion and the welfare of his fellow-exiles. When he came to New England as elder he was, in the absence of the pastor, the regular preacher of the Pil- grims, but never having been ordained as a minister, he could not admin- ister the sacrament, and for years the Plymouth people, much to their sorrow, were compelled to forego that service. After a long and faithful service, in which his tender and charitable nature was never rendered harsh by bigotry nor sullen by injustice and adversity, he died at a green old age. Miles Standish was of an aristocratic family in Lancashire, but for some reason had been deprived of his estates. He had been a soldier in the Netherlands, and had all the qualities acquired by such a service. He connected himself with Robinson's people at Leyden, but did not join the church, and when the little band of Pilgrims started for the new world, he was ready to go with them as their friend and servant. His impetuous courage, somewhat hasty temper, but sterling character, have been shown in events narrated in preceding pages. He was of the ut- most service to the colonists, who relied greatly on his skill and daring. His boldness was the safety of the settlement, and he promptly per- formed whatever duty was expected of him. He had a farm at Dux- bury, near Plymouth, where he lived quietly when not serving the colony as its military leader, and where he died "well in years." Allerton and Hopkins were substantial men, who were prominent in the management of the affairs of the colony. Hopkins was a magistrate, and a stanch supporter of the Pilgrim Church. Allerton was a man of some means, and was disposed to look sharply after his own affairs. He went to England on various errands for the colony, and at first rendered good service in these missions, but at last it was found that he was more faithful to his own interests than to those of the colony. XXVIII. EARLY SETTLERS AROUND MASSACHUSETTS BAY. -THE PURITANS. FEW years after the arrival of the Pilgrims at Plymouth, hardy adventurers, coming over in trading or fishing vessels, settled at various points about Massachusetts or Boston Bay. Some of them were men of little char- acter, while others were reputable persons; but having little sympathy with the Plymouth people, they preferred to establish themselves apart from that colony, though they were quite willing to receive the aid of the Pil- grims in time of need. Two men, Lyford and Oldham, who had been forced to leave Plymouth by vote of the people, for a while took up their residence at Nantasket. Lyford was the clergyman already men- tioned as being driven out because of his opposition to the Plymouth elders and his immorality, and Oldham was a disturber of the peace by opposing the civil government which the Pilgrims had established. They afterwards complained of persecution, and persuaded some persons to believe that the Pilgrims were intolerant, arbitrary, and harsh. They had, however, received only their deserts at the hands of those whom they opposed and annoyed. After remaining a short time at Nantasket, they and some others, who had settled near, went over to Cape Ann, in the employment of an English company, to engage in fishing. Among this number was Roger Conant, a man who had left Plymouth voluntarily because he did not entirely agree with the Pilgrims. The fishing enter- prise, not proving successful, was abandoned, and Conant was then made 248 BLACKSTONE OF SHAWMUT. 249 the agent of a company of non-conformists and Puritans who were pre- paring to emigrate. In 1626, he and three others, who were engaged to hold some suitable place till settlers arrived, selected Naumkeag, the Indian name of Salem, as a proper site for a settlement. Here they were joined by other individual adventurers, who came without patent or charter, and claimed lands by right of possession; and when, in 1628, Endicot came over with the first party of colonists, he was welcomed by a number of these pioneers as well as by the agent of his company. When a few of Endicot's colonists, not altogether satisfied with a settlement at Naumkeag without further exploration, at once plunged into the forest, and travelled till they came to the neck of land between the Charles and Mystic Rivers, they found here, too, a pioneer before them. An adventurous Englishman had taken up his abode here and built a hut; he was a blacksmith by trade, but he had not yet found occasion to set up a forge. If he had not come thither to escape from fellowship with his countrymen, he probably welcomed the advent of these new adventurers and the larger party who followed the next year. Upon the peninsula known to the Indians as Shawmut, now Boston, some years before the English arrived at Charlestown, a solitary settler had established himself. This was Mr. William Blackstone, whose name is borne in respectful memory in Boston. It is supposed that he came over with Robert Gorges, when that individual came with the intent of planting episcopacy in the territory occupied by the Pilgrims. He was a man of education, and had been ordained as a clergyman of the Church of England; but he was a non-conformist, very independent, and withal somewhat eccentric, and not finding ecclesiastical matters to suit him either in England or among the Pilgrims, he retired to the pleasant region on the northern side of the peninsula of Shawmut, oppo- site Charlestown, and constructed a house where he might live undis- turbed by the religious views or practices of any one else. He led the life of a recluse, though not of a hermit, and he laid claim to the whole of the peninsula by right of being the first English occupant. When the colonists who came with Winthrop established themselves at Charles- town, Blackstone, whether from motives of generosity or a desire to dis- pose of his "estate" and retire before this new flood of civilization and Puritanism, invited the strangers to Shawmut, where there were " sweet NO. vu. 32 250 EARLT SETTLERS AROUND MASSACHUSETTS BAT. and pleasant springs," and good land "affording rich corn-fields and fruit- ful gardens." The invitation was accepted, and the new settlers soon established themselves on the site selected by Blackstone. The new colony, which had a higher claim to the territory by virtue of their patent than Blackstone by virtue of "squatter sovereignty," liberally granted him fifty acres, and admitted him as a freeman. He, however, did not long remain with them, but, when the settlers became too numerous, sold his possessions, and sought another home in the wilder- ness, beyond the limits of the patent of Massachusetts. He would not join the Puritan church, saying, " I left England because I did not like the lord bishops; but I can't join with you because I would not be under the lord brethren." On Noddle's Island (now East Boston) Samuel Maverick had estab- lished himself, and not feeling safe in a frail house, he built a fort, and mounted guns to defend himself against the Indians. How long he had been there when the colonists arrived is not known. He was a very hospitable man, "giving entertainment to all comers gratis." Maverick's hospitality seemed to trouble the Puritan fathers, as he was " an enemy to the reformation in hand, being strong for the lordly pre- latical power," and in 1635 the General Court ordered that he should remove with his family to Boston, and in the meantime should not give entertainment to any strangers for longer times than one night, without leave from some assistant. This order, however, was subsequently revoked. At other points about the shores of the bay solitary pioneers or small parties had established themselves in like manner before the arrival of the Massachusetts colony. They were not of the stamp of Morton of " Merry Mount," but some were the men who first suffered from that nuisance, and sought the good services of Captain Miles Standish in abating it. If not in entire sympathy with the Puritans, the)' did not object to "casting in their lot" with them. Though these scattered adventurers had established habitations, more or less permanent, on the shores of Massachusetts Bay, the first coloni- zation of this region was by the company led by Endicot. The com- pany of merchants who had employed men to maintain a fishing station at Cape Ann, having abandoned an enterprise which, after a END I COT AT NA UMKEA G. 25 ! few years' trial, had proved unremunerative, some members of the com- pany, with other parties, notably the Rev. Mr. White, agitated the project of planting a colony there for a different and higher purpose. The project found friends among the Puritans, who desired, like the Pilgrims, to seek a home in New England, where they might be free from reli- gious persecution. Among those who early enlisted in this movement was John Enclicot, and by his influence and that of Mr. White and a few others, a grant was obtained from the council for New England. As already stated, Conant, holding what little property the fishing col- ony left, remained, with three associates, when the establishment at Cape Ann was broken up, acting as agent of the proposed emigrants, and selected Naumkeag as a better place for a settlement. The company in England being organized, and having secured the grant, which extended from the Charles River to the Merrimack, sent Endicot with about a hundred settlers, including women and children, as the pioneers of the colony. They arrived at Naumkeag in September, 1628, and finding but scanty preparation for their reception, imme- diately set themselves at work to build houses. A few of the col- onists, however, not satisfied with the appearance of the place, pro- ceeded southwest through the wilderness till they came to the neck of land between the Mystic and Charles Rivers, the home of the sol- itary blacksmith, and determined to settle there. Others subsequently followed, and Charlestown divided the honor with Salem of being the first place of settlement for the new colony. As with other colonies, the settlers suffered not a little from hard- ship and want of provisions. Many were taken sick and died, while scurvy had reduced others to a miserable condition. So great was the want of the company that the servants were released from their obligations of service, that they might provide for themselves, and they were afterwards made freemen. The next year, however, stores, some cattle, and more settlers were brought over, and the colonists were re- lieved. But the second winter was also one of suffering, and eighty or nearly one half of the colonists died. Endicot received instructions in detail for the management of the colony until the principal part of the company should emigrate. The purport of all was that he should secure good order, punish offences, 252 THE PURITANS. exclude persons of bad character who might by any chance be found among the settlers, take good care that religious exercises should be observed, suppress disputes and secure harmony in religious matters, see that no wrong or injury be offered to the natives,' and that, if they claimed land wanted by the colonists, they should be paid for it. In 1629, Endicot, who had hitherto acted simply as agent of the company, with authority to do certain acts, was appointed governor of the planta- tion, with more extensive powers. The company organized for the colonization of Massachusetts was composed mostly of rigid Calvinists. Landed on the shores of New England, under the ministrations of Higginson and others, they consid- ered themselves "the chosen emissaries of God; outcasts from Eng- land, yet favorites with Heaven; destitute of security, of convenient food and shelter, and yet blessed beyond all mankind, for they were the depositaries of the purest truth, and the selected instruments to kindle in the wilderness the beacon of pure religion, of which the un- dying light should not only penetrate the wigwams of the heathen, but spread its benignant beams across the darkness of the whole civilized world. The emigrants were not so much a body politic as a church in the wilderness, with no benefactor around them but nature, no present sovereign but God." "The church was self-constituted. It did not ask the assent of the king, or recognize him as its head; its officers were set apart and ordained among themselves; it used no liturgy; it rejected unnecessary ceremonies, and reduced the simplicity of Calvin to a still plainer standard." * Among the company were a few who were not prepared to assent to the new and independent system which the leading Puritan clergy, emancipated from the restraint imposed and persecutions inflicted upon them in England, now proclaimed. They had joined the company without any condition, and without any purpose of abandoning the Church of England, and they were not disposed to relinquish the use of the Book of Common Prayer, or the ordinances of religion to which they had been accustomed. Prominent among these adherents to the established church were John and Samuel Browne, men of influence in the company in England, the interests of which they had greatly pro- * Bancroft. ENDICOT'S EARLY INTOLERANCE. moted, being among the original patentees. They were sufficiently independent to resist the new system, which they believed to be wrong, and gathered a company of those who agreed with them " in a place distinct from the public assembly," and there made use of the Book of Common Prayer. These proceedings caused some disturbance among the settlers, a few joining the Brownes in upholding the established church, but the majority condemning them. Endicot summoned the brothers before him, and a wordy conflict ensued between them and the Puritan ministers. The governor and council, and most of the people, sided with the ministers, and finding the two brothers " to be of high spirits, and their speeches and practices tending to mutiny and. faction,". Endicot told them that New England was no place for such as they, and sent them both back to old England. Thus at the outset the colonists determined that theirs should be a Puritan commonwealth, and the spirit of this action was long continued in the administration of its affairs. On their arrival in England, the Brownes united with others in de- nouncing the Puritan colonists, and endeavored to obtain a revocation of their charter, but were unsuccessful. The company in England gave the Brownes an impartial hearing, and endeavored to smooth the troubled waters. But the danger that the Brownes, aided by the Church, might succeed in their efforts, induced the company to address a letter of cau- tion to the ministers at Salem, and one of like tenor to Endicot. Endicot was a genuine Puritan, somewhat in advance of most of the leading men of the colony in his extreme aversion to the English Church, and to anything that savored in a remote degree of Popery. Being a soldier, accustomed to command and to act in emergencies, he was ever ready to assume responsibility and to strike at any act or any person against whom his rigid Calvinism found cause for complaint. His quick temper, coupled with his military habits, sometimes led him into hasty action, as when he cut the red cross out of the king's colors because he could not endure that " Popish and idolatrous emblem." But he was altogether "a fit instrument to begin this wilderness work, of courage bold, undaunted, yet sociable, and of a cheerful spirit, loving and austere, applying himself to either as occasion served." The safe arrival of Endicot's party in New England, and the accounts of the country which were carried back to the mother country, gave a 254 THE PURITANS. new impulse to the purpose of emigration among those who felt the pressure of the English hierarchy. " The concession of the Massachu- setts charter seemed to the Puritans like a summons from Heaven, inviting them to America. There the gospel might be taught in its purity; and the works of nature would alone be the safe witnesses of their devotions." A large number from Boston and other parts of Lin- colnshire, from Dorchester and from London, signified their desire to emigrate, and preparations were made to send out several ships with these emigrants, and ample supplies for their subsistence. Many of them were men of means, and the greater part had more or less of this world's goods, as well as the religious spirit, which was yet more potent to sustain them in their undertaking. The government of the company under the charter was organized in England, and at first it appears to have been the purpose to manage the affairs of the colony by this government at home. But, with a more lib- eral spirit than had actuated those who had hitherto obtained patents and charters for the colonization of America, the governor, Matthew Cradock, and other leading men of the company, proposed that the charter should be transferred to those of the freemen who should themselves inhabit the colony. After some discussion this wise course was adopted, and it was declared, by general consent, that the government and charter should be settled in New England. An agreement had already been formed between men of fortune and education that they would them- selves embark for America if the government should be legally trans- ferred to them and the other freemen of the company who should inhabit the plantation. The charter was accordingly transferred, and what was originally a commercial corporation only was thus changed into an independent provincial government. John Winthrop, one of the most influential of those agreeing to emi- grate, a man " approved for piety, liberality, and conduct," was chosen governor, and the board of assistants and other officers were selected from the company preparing to live in the colony. Winthrop was a firm royalist, and had hitherto been a conformist, but he loved " gospel purity " even to independency, and he was strong in his regard for pop- ular liberties, as then existing in England. He was in all respects ad- mirably adapted for the position to which he was called. Humphrey, ARRIVAL OF WINTHROP'S PARTT. 255 who was chosen deputy governor, at the last moment had not the courage to undertake the voyage, and Thomas Dudley was chosen in his place; for the government was in good faith transferred to those who should emigrate. The destitute colonists at Charlestown who had survived the winter watched anxiously, as the summer came with its unaccustomed heat, for the coming of succor from their friends in England. Weak from sick- ness, and their provisions nearly exhausted, a gloomy prospect was before them should that succor not come. At last, in June, they were glad- dened by the sight of sails coming up between the green islands of the harbor. Winthrop, with eight hundred emigrants, had come; and they were eagerly welcomed, not to the hospitalities of the needy colonists, but as their deliverers. The new-comers were obliged to furnish food to their hosts. The few poor houses of the settlers gave little hope of comfort to those who had left pleasant homes in England, and some of them looked with dismay upon the cheerless prospect before them. But no time could be wasted in regrets, and their religious zeal and faith in the des- tiny of the colony under the guidance of Providence did not suffer them to despair. Places for settlement were at once sought, and the large company dividing, selected various localities for their future habitations. One party went to Mystic, or Mcdford; another crossed the river to share with Blackstone his domain of Shawmut, and in honor of the old English town from which most of them came, named it Boston; others went up the Charles River to a place they named Watertown, and still others to the territory lying south of Shawmut, where they founded the towns of Dorchester and Roxbury. With the selection of sites for their plantations, the hardships of the settlers commenced. They must build their houses in the wilderness, and until these were provided they were obliged to live in tents and poor huts, suffering from heats which to them were excessive, and some- times for want of good water. Many of them had been accustomed to plenty and the comforts and luxuries of competence and cultivated life, and the struggle with the unlooked-for hardships of a life in the wil- derness was to them fearful. Women who had never before known exposure, discomfort, and want, had come, with an earnest devotion to 256 THE PURITANS. their religion and a firm faith in their husbands or fathers, but they were dismayed by the hardships they experienced, or had not physical strength to endure the privations, discomforts, and suffering to which they were exposed. Many of them died, and sorrow for the dead and anxiety for the living caused men to despond. Sickness was every- where, and before December more than two hundred had died, while another hundred, among whom were some of the leading men of the colony and members of the board of assistants, were so disheartened that they returned to England. The desertion of these men, who were looked to as the steadfast friends of the enterprise, had a discouraging effect on some of the settlers. But there were others who never faltered, and whose fortitude and faith in the cause which brought them hither increased with the troubles that encompassed them. Among the women who had left the comforts of a home of wealth and refinement was Lady Arabella Johnson, the wife of Isaac Johnson, the largest subscriber to the stock of the company, and "the greatest fur- therer of the plantation." She was the daughter of the Earl j$ attracted by her teachings and the freedom of Rhode Island. The Puri- tans of Massachusetts were greatly disturbed by these things. One of her sons and a son-in-law ventured to expostulate with them on account of the wrongs their mother had suffered, and they were imprisoned for several months, as a punishment for their audacity. The power of Mas- sachusetts, directed by some of the more intolerant of the clergy, seemed likely to be extended beyond its legitimate limits, and even Rhode Island seemed no longer a safe place of refuge for the eloquent teacher of such offensive doctrines. Mrs. Hutchinson and her family accord- ingly removed to the Dutch territory of New Netherlands, where all but one child were killed by the Indians. Another individual who was obnoxious to the Puritans was Samuel Gorton, who came to Boston in 1636. He entertained the same views as Roger Williams with regard to the province of the magistrates and freedom of conscience, but he had also many extravagant and fanciful ideas in his religious opinions. As he was bold and outspoken, ex- pressing his views with great ability and freedom, he soon found all the ministers combined against him, and he was engaged in heated conflict of argument; but as the ministers ruled the magistrates, Gorton found it expedient to leave Boston and go to Plymouth. There his views were no more acceptable than among the Puritans, and he went to the settlement on Rhode Island, where he quarrelled with Coddington, the founder of the settlement, about some swine. The dispute was carried into court, of which Coddington was the principal magistrate, and a scene of violence ensued. Coddington cried out, " You that are for the king, lay hold on Gorton!" and the bold reformer retorted, "You that are for the king, lay hold on Coddington!" But Coddington was too powerful in the settlement, and Gorton was whipped and banished. Gorton then sought the tolerant colony of Roger Williams at Prov- idence, where he remained for a time, until, purchasing of the sachem Miantonomoh some land on Narragansett Bay, he established himself there, with " such as chose to enjoy his way of thinking." But some of his associates found that they did not enjoy his way of thinking, and sought the protection of the Massachusetts colony. Gorton had also exercised a bad influence on the Narragansett Indians, and encouraged their hostility towards Massachusetts. The Puritans were ready enough 276 SAMUEL GORTON. to suppress Gorton's heresy, and to punish him for his dangerous course with the Indians, as well as for the insulting language he used towards the general court. They therefore assumed the protection of the com- plainants and their lands, considering further that " the place might be of use to us; and it was the part of wisdom not to let it slip." Some commissioners, with a military force, were sent to settle the difficulties. Gorton and his adherents were taken before the court in Boston, where he made an extravagant and mystical speech, which only confirmed the court against him. All the magistrates but three were of opinion that he ought to die; but the deputies, like the people they represented, were more tolerant than ministers and magistrates, and would not agree to such a sentence. Attempts were made to induce him to abandon his " hellish blasphemy," but he preferred martyrdom to apostasy, and it being necessary to inflict some punishment upon so persistent an offender, he and six of his followers were distributed among seven towns, to be kept at work, and to wear irons on one leg, and not to maintain their blasphemous errors by writing; if they did, they were to be punished by death. The court also sent to Gorton's settlement and took his cattle, to pay the expense of this invasion of the territory and rights of parties over whom they had no jurisdiction ! The punishment, however, was a two-edged sword, for it excited pity, especially among women, for the unfortunate Gorton and his friends, and the obnoxious doctrines were listened to and found converts among the sympathizing people. Not knowing what else to do under such circumstances, it was decided to set them at liberty, and give them fourteen days to get out of the jurisdic- tion of the Massachusetts colony, a privilege of which they were glad to avail themselves. Puritan intolerance towards the Quakers, at a later date in the history of the colony, was attended with more sad and fatal results, and will be narrated in a subsequent chapter. QUARREL OF WINTHPOP AND DUDLEY. XXXI. PILGRIMS AND PURITANS. -INCIDENTS, EPI- SODES, AND CHARACTERISTICS. E are accustomed to look upon the sombre side of the Puritan character, and to see them only as stern and morose religionists, strict moralists, iricTustrious in their temporal affairs, but opponents of all recreations and pleasure; whose affections even were under the restraint of a severe creed, and could find no natural expression. But they were human, and however much their religion tinged their character and conduct with its sober hues, their family attachments, their love and friendship, though not demon- strative, found characteristic expression in words and kindly acts. Though the elders and church-members did not indulge in much merriment, they were not devoid of humor, and did not abstain from laughter. The young and the large number who were not church-members, though under the watchful restraint of parents, guardians, and masters, as well as the rigid rules of conduct prescribed by the magistrates, were pretty much like the young everywhere in their feelings. They could not express their sentiments with the freedom of modern times, but there were stolen occasions of frolic, sly bits of love-making, and secret pas- sages of romance. In his letter to the Countess of Lincoln, written amid the sorrows of the first terrible winter, and when he was rather disposed to despond under the hardships encountered, Dudley tells of a false alarm which evidently provoked the laughter of the grave elders. " Upon the 277 278 PILGRIMS AND PURITANS. 25th of this March," he wrote, "one of Watertown having lost a calf, and about ten of the clock at night hearing the howling of some wolves not far off, raised many of his neighbors out of their beds, that, by dis- charging their muskets near about the place where he heard the wolves, he might so put the wolves to flight and save his calf. The wind serv- ing fit to carry the report of the muskets to Rocksbury, three miles off, at such a time, the inhabitants there took an alarm, beat up their drum, armed themselves, and sent in post to us to Boston to raise us also. So in the morning, the calf being found safe, the wolves affrighted, and our danger past, we went merrily to breakfast." The fear of an attack by the Indians undoubtedly created a genuine alarm, and the relief expe- rienced when the harmless cause of the disturbance was known evi- dently found expression in fun and laughter. Governor Winthrop, who was an " example of piety " to the colo- nists, and whose benevolence was constantly shown in kindly service to the poor, sometimes had a humorous way of manifesting it. lie was in the habit of sending some of his family or servants upon errands to the houses of the poor about their meal-time, "on purpose to spy whether they wanted," and if it was found that they were needy, he quietly sent them supplies. On one occasion a neighbor gave him private informa- tion that a certain needy person stole wood from his pile. The gov- ernor, in apparent anger, exclaimed, "Does he so! I'll take a course with him. Go call that man to me; I'll warrant you I'll cure him of stealing." Ascertaining that the offender had stolen rather from neces- sity than evil disposition, when the poor fellow appeared trembling be- fore him, the governor said to him, " Friend, it is a severe winter, and I doubt you are but meanly provided with wood; wherefore I would have you supply yourself at my wood-pile till this cold season be over." And then, we are told, " he merrily asked his friends whether he had not effectually cured this man of stealing his wood." Governor Winthrop was a man of a mild and generous nature, dis- inclined to harsh and severe measures, and sometimes far from giving satisfaction to the sterner Puritans. But he was human, and could take offence, and there were times when anger got the better of his dignity. The deputy-governor, Dudley, an older man, of a very positive nature, and disposed to adopt the most rigorous measures to enforce uniformity, INCIDENTS AND EPISODES. 279 looked with impatience upon the lenient policy of Winthrop, and early commenced finding fault with him. The governor resented the manner rather than the matter of Dudley's animadversions; and a serious differ- ence existed between them for a long time. At last it broke out into an angry dispute before the ministers who were convened to hear the complaints of Dudley against Winthrop. The governor standing upon his rights under the charter, Dudley got into a violent passion, " and told the Governor if he were so round he would be round too. The Gov- ernor bade him be round if he would. So the Deputy rose up in great fury and passion, and the Governor grew very hot also, as they both fell into bitterness; but by mediation of the mediators they were soon paci- fied." Doubtless these grave Puritan fathers came near to blows in their passion. That the explosion did not more seriously disturb the Puritan mind indicates that anger and high words were not altogether strangers in Puritan society. Indeed, among less distinguished parties disputes were not uncommon, and being Englishmen, they had a pertinacious way of maintaining their opinions. With the Puritans, though not really of them, were some wild young men, possibly the sons of some of the most pious of the church- members, who, like all such graceless youths, were fond of pranks. One day, as the Rev. John Cotton, the much respected minister of Boston, was walking quietly down the street, absorbed in his own thoughts, a group of these young scapegraces stood by the wayside, and, as he ap- proached, one of them said to his fellows, "There comes old Cotton; I'll go and put a trick upon him." So saying, he went and said in the minister's ear, " Cotton, thou art an old fool!" The youth was proud of his impudent exploit, and the worthy min- ister was so astounded that for a moment he was silent. But recovering his composure, he replied, with characteristic humility, "I confess I am so; the Lord make both thee and me wiser than we are, even wise unto salvation." The gentleness of the answer, and the mild look which accompanied it, made the youth slink away discomfited, though he and his fellows probably indulged in much merriment when out of the minister's sight at the good joke of calling the Rev. Mr. Cotton an old fool to his face. 280 PILGRIMS AND PURITANS. There are episodes of love and romance, even in the lives of the sober elders. Tradition has preserved what History has ignored, and Poetry has embalmed the tradition, handed down faithfully from genera- tion to generation, of the courtship of Miles Standish. The brave and fiery little captain was not so devoted to his sword but he could have an eye for beauty, and among the few maidens in Plymouth, Priscilla Mullins attracted him to such a degree, that he desired to end his lonely life by marrying her. How deeply he was in love may be a matter of conjecture, but from his temperament we may suppose the flame burned fiercely, even if briefly. But the bluff soldier who could throw himself upon the stalwart Pecksuot and kill him with his own dagger, did not dare to tell his love and pop the important question. " I can march up to a fortress, and summon the place to surrender, But march up to a woman with such a proposal, I dare not. I'm not afraid of bullets, nor shot from the mouth of a cannon, But of a thundering ' No ! ' point blank from the mouth of a woman, That I confess I'm afraid of, nor am I ashamed to confess it ! " Since his shyness compelled him to court by proxy, Standish was unfortunate in selecting John Alden for that service, John Alden, who was himself in love with the fair Priscilla, and whose youth and come- liness were in strong contrast with the grim looks of the "stocky" soldier. Alden doubtless performed his unwelcome task with true loy- alty to the friend whose request he could not refuse, or whom he dared not offend; but while he told of the captain's love, and the captain's worth, Priscilla saw only the proxy wooer, and detecting under his plead- ing for his friend if she did not know before the state of his heart, the counterpart of her own, it is not strange that, utterly ignoring the rough Miles Standish, "Archly the maiden smiled, and with eyes overrunning with laughter, Said, in a tremulous voice, 'Why don't you speak for yourself, John?'" The wrath of the hot-tempered Standish, when the result of his courtship by proxy was made known to him, may be imagined. Of course he must have felt that he was betrayed, and it is a wonder that he did not commit some violence on the friend who proved his more ROMANTIC STORY OF GOVERNOR BRADFORD. 2 8i fortunate rival; but perhaps his disappointment added force to the blow with which he drove the dagger into the bosom of the savage Pecksuot, and thus found relief. There are those who discredit the story of Miles Standish's courtship by proxy, and who would brush away from barren facts everything that savors of romance; as if the story of the Pilgrims and Puritans were not cold, hard, and sombre enough, without destroying the meagre bits of interesting lore that here and there adorn it. But tradition is often quite as trustworthy as an old chronicle, and supplies what that omits. And the tradition of this courtship, which no chronicle disproves, has come down to us through the successive generations of the Alden family. A little romance is connected with another prominent name among the Pilgrims, the bald facts of which are mentioned by the old chron- iclers. Governor Bradford, when a young man in England, became strongly attached to Alice Carpenter, the daughter of a neighboring landed proprietor. His love was returned by the young lady, and in their meetings, which were probably, under the circumstances, by stealth, they plighted their vows. Bradford was a dissenter, and belonged to a body of worshippers who were suffering the persecution of the English hierarchy, and were preparing to fly from England and seek a refuge in Holland. The young man determined to go with his religious brethren; but, before going, he sought from Alice's father the hand which she had already promised him. But the father was obdurate. It did not matter that in birth, social position, and possessions the suitor was an eligible party; he was a dissenter; and the rigid supporter of church and king would not permit his daughter to wed a pestilent dissenter. The lovers separated with heavy hearts, and Bradford soon went to Leyden. It was a hopeless case for them, and though their attachment was no transitory fancy, they wisely determined to make the best of it. Bradford married another excellent woman, and Alice Carpenter became Mistress Alice Southworth. Some years passed, and Bradford came over with the little band of Pilgrims in the Mayflower. While the ship was at anchor in Cape Cod harbor, and Bradford, with Standish and others, was absent exploring the coast in the pinnace, Mrs. Bradford fell overboard and was drowned. It was a sad loss to him, just as he had found a place where he was to NO. vin. 36 282 PILGRIMS AND PURITANS. establish a home, and enjoy the right to worship God according to his conscience without molestation; but he soon saw others more severely afflicted, as, under their exposure and want, one half the colony died. Elected to succed the excellent Carver as governor, he devoted himself to the welfare of the colony, but, with a temperament calculated for the enjoyment of domestic life, he felt lonely without a helpmate. He had heard that Mrs. Southworth was a widow, and the memory of his first and strongest love induced him to write to her and renew the suit of his youth. He was indeed governor of this little colony, but he could offer little inducement for her to leave the comforts of an English home, and share with him the inconveniences and hardships of a life in the wil- derness, nothing, indeed, but a renewed pledge of his early love. At that time it took long and weary months for a letter to cross the Atlantic, and required patience to await a reply. Unable to leave the colony and renew his suit in person, he wrote, asking her, if her heart responded to his, to come to him by the next ship bound to Plymouth. With anxiety and doubt he waited through the long period before the expected ship could arrive. In the mean time the condition of the colony was not prosperous, and those who were to come could receive only a sad welcome from the needy settlers. At last the looked-for ship arrived, and while hastening to discharge his duties as governor by providing for the reception of all who came, Bradford could not but feel anxious, uncertain whether he should meet her for whom he had sent, or receive a letter which should again crush his hopes. But he was not doomed to disappointment. Among the passengers was Alice Southworth, no longer, indeed, the fair young girl whom he had known as Alice Car- penter, but a comely matron, who met him with the reserve due to their age and position, but with a rekindling of youthful love. That love had been put to the test, and she had left home, and friends, and luxury, to redeem the pledge given in her youth. Notwithstanding the poor hospi- talities he could offer, that was a happy day for the governor, and in a fortnight he was married to his first choice. And it was a happy mar- riage, as well as a romantic one, for Mrs. Bradford was long remembered as a devoted wife, and a woman of exemplary and beautiful character. Governor Bellingham, of Massachusetts, figured in a romance of a somewhat more scandalous character. Before he was elected governor, BELLINGHAM'S SCANDAL. 283 he was one of the most strenuous advocates of a law passed in 1639, requiring the publication of intentions of marriage by proclamation in the church on lecture day, for three successive weeks. Little did he then think that he would be the first to violate the law. In 1641 he was elected governor. At that time, a young lady of great personal attrac- tions was a member of his family, and was the object of serious atten- tions on the part of a young kinsman of the governor, it being supposed that they were in fact betrothed. Bellingham was then a widower, and he also conceived a strong attachment to the young lady, though he was fifty years of age, and she but twenty. By nature imperious, and not very considerate of the rights or feelings of others when opposed to his own wishes, he disregarded propriety and hospitality, and vigorously made love to his guest. The young kinsman, shocked at this bold invasion of his rights, remonstrated with the fair one for tolerating the attentions of his rival. But the lady was high-spirited, and indignant that her conduct should be restrained by any one but a husband, she slighted her younger suitor, and encouraged the elder. The young kinsman was poor and de- pendent, and the governor's comparative wealth and high position were too powerful temptations for the ambitious girl to resist. She discarded the young lover, and accepted the governor. The gossips, of course, enjoyed this unusual bit of scandal in the Puritan town, and Bellingham, with all his assurance, was not bold enough to face the nods and head- shakings which would attend the publication of the banns, or he was too eager to make sure of his prize to wait the prescribed time. He accord- ingly disregarded the law requiring the publication, which he had him- self so earnestly advocated. With the Puritans, marriage was a civil contract, entered into before a magistrate. But as no magistrate would be equally guilty of violating the law by performing the marriage cer- emony without the publication, he performed it himself! In the pres- ence of his household for witnesses the pair made their promises, and then and there the governor pronounced himself and the lady man and wife. For this violation of law, and scandalous disregard of propriety and the custom of the colony, he was prosecuted. The case came before the court of which, as governor, he was a member. To add to the scan- 284 INCIDENTS AND CHARACTERISTICS. dal, he had the assurance to take his seat on the bench, to assist in try- ing his own cause. Winthrop, who was then deputy-governor, refused to proceed unless the culprit governor retired. But this he declined to do, and the case was thus suspended and never brought to trial. And so the governor escaped punishment, and excused his offences by plead- ing his very great love for the lady he had married. How this plea was received by the ill-treated kinsman, and how Madame Bellingham ex- cused her perfidy to the youthful suitor, history does not record. The early settlers brought with them a little of the pomp to which the old world was then accustomed. On all public occasions the gov- ernor and magistrates appeared with no little ceremony, and the order of precedence was strictly observed. In their formal intercourse with the Indians, they endeavored to impress the natives by such display as their limited means afforded, and by such formalities as indicated their superiority, though never in an offensive manner. When Massasoit visited Plymouth, the musketeers were paraded, partly, perhaps, for safety, and drums were beat and trumpets were sounded, somewhat to the astonishment and alarm of the Indians. Other formalities fol- lowed, such as became the interview between the governor and magis- trates of an English colony and the sagamore of the native tribes. Afterwards, a measure of precaution was made to appear as a mark of honor; for, whenever the Indians came into the settlement the gunners stood to their cannon on the top of their block-house, and some of the settlers were always armed with their muskets; and when this excited the alarm and distrust of the natives, they were told it was an act of courtesy always observed by the English. Pomp and parade were not reserved for the savages alone. When Isaac de Rasieres came on an embassy from the Dutch at New Amster- dam to negotiate for the opening of trade between the colonies, he was attended by trumpeters, and was received with equal noise and pomp on the part of the Plymouth people. The importance of the two colonies was thus displayed, and the negotiations were entered upon with all due formality. When Governor Winthrop, with Rev. Mr. Wilson and .others, visited Plymouth in 1631, the Pilgrims dispensed with the noise of drums and trumpets, and the parade of musketeers, but they received their visitors GOVERNOR WINTHROP'S VISIT TO PLYMOUTH. 285 with greater and more appropriate marks of respect. Winthrop and his companions went by water to Wessagusset, or Weymouth, and thence travelled on foot to Plymouth. Governor Bradford, Elder Brewster, and other leading men among the Pilgrims went out to meet them some distance from the settlement, and " conducted them to the governor's house, where they were kindly entertained, and feasted every day at several houses." The proceedings on Sunday illustrate the customary religious exercises of the Pilgrims of that day. "On the Lord's day was a sacrament, in which they partook; and in the afternoon Mr. Roger Williams propounded a question, according to their custom; to which the pastor, Mr. Smith, spoke briefly, then Mr. Williams, and after him the governor of Plymouth spoke to the question; after him, the elder and some two or three more of the congregation. Then the elder desired Governor Winthrop and Mr. Wilson to speak to it, which they did. When this was ended, the deacon, Mr. Fuller, put the congregation in mind of their duty of contribution; upon which the governor and all the rest went down to the deacon's seat and put into the bag, and then returned." Governor Winthrop and his party left Plymouth at a very early hour in the morning, and Governor Bradford, with the pastor, elder, and other prominent men of the colony accompanied them half a mile out of town in the dark, while two or three went with them about ten miles. It must have been a tedious and fatiguing journey on foot, through forest and swamp, to Weymouth. When they came to a river where the stream was " very strong and up to the hips," they were carried over by their guide; not a very dignified mode of transportation for the grave governor of the Puritan colony and the reverend minister of Boston, but the passage was made safely, and, in honor of their stalwart guide, Winthrop named the place Luddham's Ford. The governor re-named another place, then known as Hue's Cross; as this name savored too much of popery, he bestowed upon it the name of Hue's Folly. The toilsome journey was completed before night, and the party was "boun- tifully entertained" by the good people of Weymouth, who were now of a different sort from Weston's unruly adventurers. The Indians about Massachusetts Bay were so few, being only the remnants of a tribe decimated by the pestilence which visited the region 286 INCIDENTS AND CHARACTERISTICS. a few years before the settlement of Plymouth, that the Puritans had little occasion to make any display of pomp and ceremony for their benefit. They visited the settlements only in small numbers, and were generally kindly received and well treated, though the settlers warily had their arms at hand, in case any treachery should be attempted. Though not called upon to receive any large Indian deputation on a for- mal visit, like that of Massasoit and his followers at Plymouth, Governor Winthrop, in his intercourse with such as did comej did not forget the dignity of his office. On one occasion, Chickatabot, the sagamore of Neponset, came to the governor with some beaver skins, with which he proposed to trade for some English clothes. The governor told him that English sagamores were not accustomed to barter, but he summoned his tailor, and ordered him to make a suit of clothes for the chief. The savage, not to be outdone in generosity, presented to the governor some fine beaver skins, and the undignified method of barter was avoided by this exchange of presents. On the day appointed, Chickatabot appeared for his promised clothes, and "the governor put him into a very good new suit, from head to foot," to the great delight of the savage. At a later period, when the issue of peace or war was pending, the emissaries of more distant and powerful tribes were received with the dignified formality which should at once satisfy the Englishman's sense of propriety, and impress the savage visitors with the power and dignity of the Massachusetts colony. XXXII. RELIGION. -MILITARY ORGANIZATION.- EDUCATION. ELIGION was the first and most important matter which I demanded the attention of the Puritans. For that they had come to the new world, and measures to maintain the true faith, as they considered it, were the first essential in their institutions. One of the first buildings to be erected was a " meeting-house," where they could gather for religious worship, or to discuss the interests of the community. Each settlement had its minister, and the whole community was required to attend the Sabbath services. The church organization was founded on democratic principles. At the outset it was agreed that the authority for ordination rested not with the ministers, but in the congregations, each of which could call and ordain its own minister, and make its own rules. This was the origin of the Congregational churches in New England. But such an inde- pendent mode was soon found to be too democratic, and tending some- what to schism. The General Court, therefore, ordered that no church should call a minister without the approbation of some of the magis- trates as well as of some neighboring churches; and this, with the exception of the approval of the magistrates, has been substantially the rule ever since. The ministers, though thus called and ordained by the people, were by no means their servants. They were the most influential men in the colony, and took an active part in all civil as well as religious matters. 287 288 RELIGION. They were men of education, and some of them men of great ability. They were " the steady encouragers of education, the friends of good- ness, and the advocates of piety." But they were human, and they made mistakes. They undertook to make the institutions of New Eng- land conform to the laws of Moses, and they had a mighty influence over the magistrates, so that they could shape the laws of the colony, in a great measure, to suit their purposes. Many of them were bigots and ascetics; but some were kindly and genial men, whose love of pleasantry and the good things of this world would sometimes break down the cold formalism and sanctity which custom and public opinion compelled them to assume. That some were base, the " black sheep " of the flock, there is good reason to suppose. Teaching and preaching were not confined to the clergy, but lay- men were often expected to speak in the church. Subjects for discus- sion were proposed, and the leading church-members took part, being generally well versed in the Bible, and accustomed to the phrases in which religious matters were then discussed. In such discussions worldly matters were often subjected to the test of religious doctrine. The Puritans were exceedingly strict in the observance of the Lord's da)', or Sabbath; the heathen name of Sunday they discarded as wicked. The time of rest commenced on the afternoon of Saturday. All work was suspended at an early hour, and all worldly cares and anxieties given over in preparation to devote the coming day to the service of the Lord. Sunday began with family prayers in most of the houses, and no more work was done than was necessary to prepare their frugal meals and feed their cattle. Few steps were taken, and the little talking that was done was in a subdued voice. Perfect stillness reigned with- out, and as near it as possible within the houses. All were clad in their best garments, often enough well-worn and scanty, but clean and decent. When the drum beat in lieu of bell-ringing, all the inhabitants, young and old, came forth to go to church. In the early days there was always a dread of the Indians, and the men carried their guns on their shoulders as if going to a " training." Women and children fol- lowed, prim and demure, and soon an irregular procession was formed, headed by the minister, elders, and magistrates; and thus, with solemn faces and devout hearts, they marched to the primitive meeting-house, THE MEETING-HOUSE. 289 which was sometimes, as in Plymouth, a strong block-house constructed for defence. Here sentinels were posted, and all the rest went in and listened reverently to prayers sometimes an hour long, and to sermons of twice that length, and joined in the psalm of praise sung to some simple tune. In the afternoon the services were continued in a similar manner, varied, perhaps, by the discussions which have been mentioned. A recent writer* describes for his young readers a New England church and religious service in the olden time as follows: " If we could carry ourselves back to those days, and were to approach a New England village about nine o'clock on Sunday morning, we should hear some one beating a drum, or sounding a horn, or blowing a conch-shell, or possibly ringing a bell, to call people to worship. As we came nearer still, we should see a flag waving from a log-built church, or ' meeting-house.' Entering the village, we should see a strong fence of stakes around this meeting-house, and a sentinel in armor standing near it; and we should see some of the men, as they went in, leaving their muskets in his care. We should, perhaps, see a cannon or two planted near the meeting-house; and we should also see some strange wooden frames not far off, these being the stocks and the pillory put there to punish offenders. Looking at this church, we should see that it had very few glass windows, and that these had very thick and small panes, diamond-shaped, and set in leaden frames. We should observe that the other windows had oiled paper instead of glass, and we should see between the windows the heads of wolves that had been killed and displayed there during the past year. " If we were to look inside the little church, we should not see fam- ilies sitting together as now, but they would be distributed according to age, sex, or rank. In those days, the old men sat together in one place in the church, the young men in another. The boys all sat on the pulpit stairs and gallery, with constables to guard them. Each of these constables had a wand, with a hare's foot on one end and a hare's tail on the other. These were to keep the people awake. If any woman went to sleep, the constable touched her on the forehead with the hare's tail; but if a small boy nodded, he was rapped with the other end, not * T. W. Higginson. NO. VIII. 37 290 RELIGION. quite so gently. No doubt the wand was often used, for the services were sometimes three or four hours long, the sexton turning the hour- glass before the minister at the end of every hour. The only music consisted of singing by the congregation from a metrical version of the psalms, called the ' Bay Psalm Book.' The whole number of tunes known to the congregation did not exceed ten, and few congregations could go beyond five. This was the Puritan form of religious service, and people were not allowed to stay at home from it; for men called tithing-men were sent about the town to look for those that were absent. Men were fined for every unnecessary absence, and if they staid away a month together they might be put in the stocks or into a wooden cage." The following account of the Sunday services in Boston in the early days of the colony was written at the time, and published in London: "Every Sabbath, or Lord's day, they came together at Boston by ringing of a bell, about nine of the clock or before. The pastor be- gins with solemn prayer, continuing about a quarter of an hour. The teacher then readeth and expoundeth a chapter; then a psalm is sung, whichever one of the ruling elders dictates. After that the pastor preacheth a sermon, and sometimes extempore exhorts. Then the teacher concludes with prayer and a blessing. Once a month is a sac- rament of the Lord's Supper, whereof notice is usually given a fortnight before, and then all others departing except the church (which is a great deal less in number than those that go away), they receive the sac- rament, the minister and ruling elders sitting at the table, the rest in their seats or upon forms. About two in the afternoon, they repair to the meeting-house again, when the services are much the same as in the morning. After that ensues baptism ; one of the parents being of the church, no sureties are required; which ended, follows the contribu- tion, one of the deacons saying, ' Brethren of the congregation, now there is time left for contribution; wherefore, as God has prospered you, so freely offer.' The magistrate and chief gentlemen first, and then the elders, and all the congregation of them, and most of them that are not of the church, all single persons, widows, and women in absence of their husbands, come up one after another, one way, and bring their offerings to the deacon at his seat, and put it into a box of wood for the purpose, SUNDAT EVENING. 291 if it be money or papers; if it be any other chattel, they set or lay it down before the deacons, and so pass another way to their seats again, which money and goods the deacons dispose toward the maintenance of the minister and the poor of the church, and the church's occasions, without making account ordinarily." Such was the simple form of service in the Puritan meeting-houses, and such was the voluntary system of maintaining the church. To many, especially among the )'oung, Sunday must have seemed a weary day, with its long sermons discussing abstruse theological questions, the repression of all the natural spirits of youth, the prohibition of all talk- ing and mirth, and the restraint of limbs accustomed through all the week to activity. But with the sunset the Sabbath ended, and the holy day was succeeded by a holiday evening. Promptly with the going down of the sun, children burst forth from their confinement, and ran joyfully to the spring for water, or to the pasture for the cows, or wildly about the fields, exulting in the use of limbs and voices. Young men and maidens rejoiced in the liberty to laugh and joke, and in the ap- proach of those few blessed hours free from employment and devoted to social intercourse and courtship. Next to religion and good order, military affairs were considered of the most importance by the early colonists. They had come to the wil- derness with a distrust and dread of its savage inhabitants. The mas- sacres in Virginia, and the hostility sometimes manifested against the traders who had visited the shores of New England, had warned them of the treacherous and vindictive character of the Indians, and while determined to treat them justly, they saw the necessity of being prepared for any hostile attack. At an early day they built fortifications, on which cannon were mounted, and every man was provided with a gun and ammunition, and expected to act as a soldier in the common defence. As towns were organized, each had its " train-band," or military com- pany, which was duly officered, and exercised in the use of arms. The leading men of the Massachusetts colony, at least, probably had in view not only protection against hostile savages, but the possible necessity of defence against enemies from abroad, and even the resistance of oppres- sion by their own countrymen. After the Pequot war, the provisions for defence by the organization of military companies were especially 292 MILITARY ORGANIZATION. strict. In 1639, there were two regiments in the Massachusetts colony which mustered a thousand able-bodied and well-armed men; and in 1641, Winthrop says that at one training there were twelve hundred men on duty at Boston, and he adds, "yet not one drunk, though there was plenty of wine and strong beer in the town." In 1643, the Commissioners of the United Colonies advised "that every man may keep by him a good gun and sword, one pound of powder, with four pounds of shot, with match or flints suitable to be ready on all occasions." This advice was probably necessary, for though most of the early settlers were armed, some of those who had come afterwards were not, and the peaceable conduct of most of the Indians after the destruction of the Pequot tribe had given a sense of security. But the colonists were of a race that were always ready to defend their homes, and the military spirit did not slumber long. In most of the towns, at the first division of lands a field was set apart for a "training-field," and some of them are still preserved as commons or public squares. The " Ancient and Honorable Artillery," of Boston, which still exists in a flourishing condition, dates its organization back in these early colonial days, having been formed in 1637. The court refused at that time to incorporate the company, considering " how dangerous it might be to erect a standing authority of military men, which might easily in time overthrow the civil power." The militia or entire body of men, armed as required, was deemed an ample and safer protection to the lives and the liberties of the colonists. At a later date, however, the company was chartered. The soldiers of that day wore armor consisting of a breastplate and back-piece of steel or iron, and pieces to protect the thighs. Not all those who were required to bear arms were supplied with this armor, but those who were called into service were thus protected, so far as the armor could be furnished. Among the colonists were men who had been in the military ser- vice in Europe, who brought with them the martial spirit of a period when war was chronic, and whose experience was invaluable as ad- visers and officers. Standish was not the only, though the most expe- rienced and daring soldier who came with the Pilgrims; and among the HARVARD COLLEGE. 293 Puritans, Dudley, the deputy governor, Endicot, Leverett, and other prominent men, with some of less distinction, had seen service in war. Under such leaders there was ample material to render good service when required, and what the colonial soldiers did in the Indian wars will appear in subsequent pages. Education received the attention of the colonists from the earliest times. Before schools were established, parents were required to in- struct their children in reading, and to catechise them once a week. Schools, however, were early commenced, and supported by rates on the householders, or by voluntary contributions. Some of the schools thus established were supported in this manner for many years, and were then endowed by wise and liberal men, whose beneficence is experi- enced even at the present day. Several free schools founded in those early days of small things, and subsequently chartered, are still in exist- ence, the gift of lands having in the lapse of time become an ample endowment. In 1636 the General .Court of Massachusetts gave four hundred pounds towards the maintenance of a public school of a higher order at New- town. Two years after, John Harvard, a gentleman educated at Cam- bridge in England, who had been but a year in the colony, bequeathed this institution eight hundred pounds and his library. In recognition of this liberal endowment the institution was called Harvard College, and Newtown received the name of Cambridge. Provision was made for ample instruction, with a view especially to prepare young men for the ministry, and the college was authorized to confer degrees. The bequest of Harvard was " the earliest, the noblest, and the purest tribute to religion and science this western world had yet witnessed. It was equally timely and unexampled. Wisely and justly did our an- cestors inscribe his name upon the seminary, and acknowledge him as its founder, who had, at a moment so seasonable and critical, afforded that efficient aid which alone enabled them at once to give it existence. The example of Harvard was like an electric spark falling upon mate- rials of a sympathetic nature, exciting immediate action and consenta- neous energy. The magistrates caught the spirit, and led the way, by a subscription among themselves of two hundred pounds, in books, for the library. The comparatively wealthy followed with gifts of twenty 294 EDUCATION. and thirty pounds. The needy multitude succeeded, like the widow of old, ' casting their mites into the treasury.' " * From this time forth Harvard College was cherished with love and pride by the colonial government and the people. Differences of opin- ion and conflicts of authority arose, and critical times were experienced, but through all there was a love and veneration for the institution which sustained it in every difficulty and carried it through every crisis. En- dowment followed endowment, and its usefulness was extended, till it has become the wealthiest university in the country, and, to say the least, one of the foremost in the educational advantages it offers. Not trusting to the voluntary maintenance of schools by each com- munity, the General Court at an early day required that a school should be kept and maintained a part of the year in every town, and, as pop- ulation and prosperity increased, towns having one hundred families were required to maintain a grammar school. Such was the origin of the common-school system of New England, a system which is the pride of its people and the safeguard of free institutions, and which from New England extended through nearly all portions of the country. Not much like the public school of to-day, especially in the cities and larger towns, was the school of the olden time. Instead of the large concourse of children assembling in graded classes in a spacious, elegant, and well-furnished school-house, amply supplied with books and apparatus and conveniences for the comfort of teacher and pupil, a lim- ited number of boys and girls of various ages children of eight or ten years, and well-grown young men and women gathered in a small, ill-fashioned, one-story building, where, sitting on rough benches or extem- porized seats, with no apparatus but the master's birch and ferule, they received instruction from the alphabet to the four simple rules of arith- metic. The teachers of the earlier days were men, for though women could generally read, very few of them could write, and still fewer had other acquirements necessary even for the rudimentary teaching of the time. There were a few professional pedagogues, who had come over from England as such; and there were young men preparing for the minis- try, or too slender for the rough work of the farm, and inclined to books, * Quincy's Hist, of Harvard College. THE SCHOOLMASTER. 295 who became teachers for longer or shorter periods. Seated on a high stool, from which he overlooked his little flock of students and idlers, the schoolmaster maintained his authority by dint of a display and not infrequent use of the rod and ruler, and with much diligence and hard work instructed his charge in reading, writing, arithmetic, and good morals. Sometimes a comely maiden among the older girls would capture the heart of the impressible but shy master; and woe to him should he by any absence of mind or partiality betray his feelings in school. If he did not conceal his love forever, he must at least reserve any manifestation of it till that time when, in " boarding round," good fortune should bring him to the house where the fair scholar dwelt; and well would it be for him if that were the last week of the school, for young men and women in those days were not free from a dispo- sition to banter and ridicule, and if they saw the learned pedagogue caught in the toils of love, it may well be imagined that the discovery would not conduce to discipline or study, nor to the comfort of the demure maiden who was so fortunate or unfortunate as to be the object of his partiality. XXXIII. ROGER WILLIAMS AT PROVIDENCE. OGER WILLIAMS, banished from the Massachusetts colony, after weary weeks of wandering through the forest, stopped at Seekonk, and there built a hut and planted corn, intending to settle there. But he was in- formed by the Plymouth colonists that he was wifhin their patent, and being determined to follow Winthrop's advice, and go where no white man had any claim to land or authority, he abandoned all his spring-time labor, and again moved southward. The Indians were more friendly than the Puritans. Massasoit had welcomed him to the region occupied by his tribe, and Canonicus and Miantonomoh, sachems of the powerful Nar- ragansetts, were equally well disposed towards one who was universally respected by the natives. He bargained with them for a tract of land at the head of Narragansett Bay, and with three or four friends who had followed him into exile he floated down the Pawtucket River, and landing on the site of the present city of Providence, he was wel- comed by his Indian friends with shouts of "What cheer, friend, what cheer?" Grateful that he had at last found a spot where he could no longer be persecuted, he gave it the name of Providence, and dedicated it to religious liberty. He built himself a house, but the year's planting had been wasted at Seekonk, and he and his companions were dependent upon the Indians. Hither soon came some twenty of his Salem friends, who had proved steadfast in their friendship, together with his wife and 296 A DEMOCRATIC CONSTITUTION. 297 children. Nor was he without sympathy in the colony of Plymouth, for Winslow visited him during the time of privation, and, as he wrote, " put a piece of gold in the hands of my wife for our supply." The grant of lands by the Narragansett chiefs was large and valuable, and the property was vested in Williams alone. But he had no desire for extensive possessions or power, and he soon conveyed to twelve of his associates equal rights to the lands. A constitution or basis of government for the colony was adopted, which was remarkable for its brevity, its liberality, and its democratic spirit. It was as follows: " We, whose names are hereunder written, being desirous to inhabit in the town of Providence, do promise to submit ourselves in active or passive obedience to all such orders or agreements as shall be made for the public good of the body, in an orderly way, by the major consent of the present inhabitants, masters of families, incorporated together into a township, and such others whom they shall admit into the same only in civil things." This instrument was signed by all the masters of families, and for several years was all that was necessary to regulate the management of affairs in the little community. Until 1640, the vote of a majority in town meeting regulated all matters pertaining to the common interest, and previous to that time no power was delegated. The covenant given above confined the action of the town meeting to civil affairs; in all matters of religious opinion there was to be no restraint. It was the purpose of Williams and his associates to guarantee entire freedom to all men in opinion and worship, whether Hindoos, Jews, Turks, or Chris- tians, Papists, Quakers, or Atheists. So jealous were they of their religious rights, that they insisted that a husband should not control his wife in religious opinions or practice; and when one Joshua Verin refused to let his wife go to church as often as she wished, he was called to account. Verin argued that the Scrip- tures gave him the right to prevent his wife from going to church, but it was voted that " for breach of covenant, in restraining liberty of con- science, he shall be withheld the liberty of voting until he declare the contrary." To this land of religious freedom came all sorts of people flying from persecution, free-thinkers, Anabaptists, Antinomians, visionaries, NO. viu. 38 298 ROGER WILLIAMS AT PROVIDENCE. and fanatics. But the apparent difficulty of harmonizing these discor- dant elements, and making them live together under one tolerant gov- ernment, did not dismay Williams. He declared that time would prove the truth of his doctrine, proclaimed by him in Massachusetts and established at Providence, that the civil power has no jurisdiction over the conscience. To the Puritans of Massachusetts, the founding of a settlement where such freedom of religious opinion was tolerated was a scandal, and, determined to hold themselves aloof from the heresies that found protection there, they forbade all dealings with the Providence people. The court also passed an order to apprehend any of the Providence folk found in the jurisdiction of Massachusetts, and to send them out of the bounds unless they would disclaim such opinions. The new colony was therefore cut off from trade with Boston, and at times suffered severely for want of supplies that could only be obtained there. When, at a later day, the Puritans whipped and hanged the Quakers, Williams and his followers remained true to his principles, and afforded an asylum to the persecuted but really obnoxious fanatics who took that name. The Providence people were urgently requested to banish the Quakers, as the other colonies did, but they declined. Three times the United Colonies required the Rhode Island people to join in the perse- cution of the obnoxious sect, and three times they firmly refused. The settlement at Providence was but fairly established when the followers of. Anne Hutchinson, driven from Massachusetts, sought a refuge with Roger Williams. Through the good offices of Williams, a grant of land on Aquidneck, or Rhode Island, was obtained from the Narragansett sachems, and here, under the lead of William Coddington, a new settlement was established. Coddington had been a magistrate in Massachusetts, and was a man of substance and influence in that colony; but he believed in the Anti- nomian doctrines of Mrs. Hutchinson, and when she and her followers were banished, though efforts were made to induce him to remain in Massachusetts, he chose to sacrifice his property, and join his fortunes with the exiles. Taking the Bible as their constitution and code, the settlers on Rhode Island appointed Coddington judge. But after a trial of two years, this form of government was found not to work well, WILLIAMS OBTAINS A CHARTER. 299 and Coddington was then elected governor, with a deputy governor and magistrates, after the manner of the older colonies. The settlers at Providence and Aquidneck had established them- selves without any charter or patent from the king, and held their lands by purchase from the Indians only, which would seem to give them the best title to them, but which in practice, under the English law, was of little account. When Gorton's associates quarrelled with him, and transferred their lands to the jurisdiction of the Massachusetts colony, and that government undertook to get a foothold on Narragansett Bay, Williams and his friends saw that their only security would be in ob- taining a charter from England. Williams was accordingly deputed to go to England, where, through the influence of his firm friend, Sir Henry Vane, he might secure a patent. As there were no English ves- sels trading in Narragansett Bay, and he was an outlaw at Boston, he was obliged to go to the Dutch settlement of New Netherlands, and sail thence for England. When he arrived in England, the country was in the midst of a revolution and civil war. The king had fled from London, and Parlia- ment was supreme. Through the great influence of Vane, he obtained a liberal charter, which preserved the principles for which he had so long contended. He returned by way of Boston, bringing with him a letter which secured him a landing there. The Puritans, however, now that these heretics had a charter, were only the more jealous of them. It would almost seem that there was a combination among the neigh- boring colonies to divide the Providence and Rhode Island Plantations between them; for Plymouth laid claim to Aquidneck, Massachusetts to lands on Narragansett Bay, and Connecticut to territory on the west. But Williams and his friends firmly maintained their rights, and under the charter the several settlements around Narragansett Bay were united under the name of the Providence Plantations. The return of Williams was hailed with joy by the people of Prov- idence, who entertained for him the greatest love and veneration. Num- bers of them met him at Seekonk, and welcomed him with unostenta- tious but heartfelt demonstrations of respect. Well might he feel rewarded for his labors in behalf of this grateful people. A government was organized under the charter, liberty of conscience 3 oo ROGER WILLIAMS AT PROVIDENCE. was still recognized as a cardinal principle, and the affairs of the col- ony were carried on with some friction, but without serious trouble, till Coddington, going to England in 1651, obtained a separate charter for Rhode Island, and was appointed governor for life. But the people of the Island, like most of the other colonists, were jealous of their rights, and with reason feared that the appointment of a governor for life would endanger their liberties. Public opinion was so strong against him and his charter that he was forced to resign. Meanwhile Williams and Clarke, another excellent man of the Providence colony, went again to England and procured the revocation of Coddington's charter, and a renewal of the original one, under which a union of the plantations was again formed. For a long time, however, there were constant disputes and antagonism between them, and affairs were conducted in anything but an orderly manner. Roger Williams always remained true to the principles which he promulgated in his early life, for which he suffered persecution, and which he established as the corner-stone of the government of his col- ony. Clear in his perception of principles, he was not afraid to follow them to their logical results. By nature a controversialist, he was capable of great bitterness and severity, as shown in his difficulties with Gorton and with Harris. But he was also of a kind and forgiving tem- per, which did not treasure up enmity or ill-will. Notwithstanding the severity with which Massachusetts had treated him, and the jealousy of his institutions which that colony always manifested, he was ever ready to be of service to it by his influence with the Indians. Dealing peace- fully and justly with the natives, he secured their good-will, and labored through life for their welfare. His principles and his works entitle him to the gratitude of the generations who have reaped the benefit of them. But if Williams was worthy of praise, many of the Providence and Rhode Island colonists were far from deserving it. Fanatics and agi- tators in Massachusetts, they became violent radicals in Rhode Island, and some would have been worthy members of the " Commune " of recent times, except that they recognized God as a ruler, which can hardly be said of the Communists. William Harris wrote against "all earthly powers, parliaments, laws, charters, magistrates, prisons, punish- RHODE ISLAND JOINS IN THE DUTCH WAR. 301 ments, rates, yea, against all kings and princes, under the notion that the people should shortly cry out, 'No lords, no masters! 'and in open court protested, before the whole colony assembly, that he would main- tain his writings with his blood." Another reformer declared " that it was blood-guiltiness, and against the rule of the Gospel, to execute judg- ment upon transgressors against the private or public weal." They were, moreover, a restless and quarrelsome set, and, not content with conflicts of words, they often came to blows. Nor did they have much regard for the place where such encounters took place, and disputants before the court resorted to this forcible kind of argument to such an extent that it became necessary to provide that " in case any man should strike another person in the court he should either be fined ten pounds or be whipped." Notwithstanding their limited numbers, they could muster a mob; and in Providence some reckless disturbers of the peace got up a riot under pretence of a voluntary training. The belligerent proclivities which the Rhode Island people man- ifested among themselves they also undertook to exercise towards a " common enemy," and when the English Commonwealth went to war with the Dutch, they thought they must take a hand in it. They went into the business of privateering, issued commissions to three officers for service against New Netherlands, and established an admiralty court for the trial of prizes. These proceedings were disapproved by the rulers of the Providence Plantations, but were carried through in spite of their protest. Two privateers sailed, and, being once on the high seas, the commander of one, considering all nations as enemies and all ships as lawful prize, or being unable to distinguish between a Frenchman and a Dutchman, captured a French ship. Another enterprising captain seized a vessel belonging to Plymouth, with which colony Rhode Island was supposed to be at peace. This commander afterwards captured a Dutch vessel, and took it into Fairfield. The inhabitants of that place, belonging to the colony of New Haven, which entertained a chronic animosity against the Dutch, were doubtless delighted to see the prize; but when two Dutch armed vessels appeared off their shore, and block- ading the harbor, threatened something worse, they wished the meddling Rhode Islanders at the bottom of the Sound. In various ways, the turbulent portion of the Rhode Island people 302 ROGER WILLIAMS AT PROVIDENCE. contrived to render themselves troublesome to their neighbors, and the Plantations were regarded by Massachusetts and Plymouth as little better than a nuisance. Sir Henry Vane, who had always manifested an in- terest in the colony, and had used his great influence to obtain for it the charter which Roger Williams brought over, was disgusted, and wrote a sharp letter condemning the disorders which prevailed. Roger Wil- liams, returning from a second visit to England, was greatly distressed to find the condition of affairs, which had gone from bad to worse during his absence. He bitterly reproached the people for their misconduct, and urged them " with the eloquence almost of despair," to find some way to establish peace and good order. The better portion of the set- tlers were also disgusted, and thus appealed to by the revered founder of the colony, they exerted themselves to bring about a better state of affairs, and under Williams' charter divisions were gradually healed, and a change was made in the rulers by which a wiser and more efficient government was established, which could suppress disorders and secure justice. XXXIV. PIONEERS AND SETTLERS IN CONNECTICUT. HE settlers about Massachusetts Bay found generally a rocky country and a light soil, which was hard to culti- vate, and not very productive. The Indians coming from the interior told them of the fertile valley of the " Quo- nehtacut," or Connecticut, the most beautiful of rivers, and promised them great crops of corn and beans if they would come and settle in that more attractive region, where fields were fruitful, and where game abounded, and furs were plentiful. Before the Puritan colonists were fairly settled in their new home and had lost all thought of returning to England, the report of this more fertile country awakened in some of them a desire to emi- grate. But though the idea of emigration was ever present, for some years there was little chance to put it in execution, on account of their poverty and the difficulties and dangers . of the journey into the land of the savages. The same story was told at Plymouth, and Winslow went to see this wonderful country, and claimed to be its discoverer. About this time, the thrifty and enterprising Dutch traders of New Amsterdam established a trading-post on the Connecticut, near the site of the city of Hartford, where the numerous Indians of the valley and the adjacent country could bring down to them large quantities of furs. The people of Plymouth, too, having passed through the stages of weak- ness and want, and becoming more prosperous, were not disposed to neglect the advantages of trade, and in 1633 prepared a house, and sent a party to establish a trading-post on the same river, where they had purchased a tract from the Indians. National jealousy was in those days 33 304 PIONEERS AND SETTLERS IN CONNECTICUT. perhaps greater than in more recent times. The early settlers and traders were not disposed to tolerate the settlers or traders of any other nation on the soil which was claimed alike by Spanish, French, and English sovereigns, but which in fact belonged to neither. Even the pious Pilgrims were not without this feeling, and, while profiting by a promising trade, they aimed also at checking the progress of the Dutch. The Plymouth enterprise was of course a small affair, for Plymouth itself was but a hamlet, and the Pilgrims could not hope then to drive out their Dutch rivals by force. But their relations with the Indians were such that they hoped to get the best of the trade, while they pos- sessed ample spirit to maintain their own rights, if assailed. In a small vessel they sailed up the river, and when the Dutch threatened to oppose their passage, they threatened to shoot back, and passed the fort unmo- lested. Proceeding some miles above the Dutch post, the Plymouth traders established themselves near the site of Windsor, where they quickly erected their house, surrounded it with palisades, and mounted some small cannon. The amicable relations of the Plymouth men with the Indians in this case did not avail them much. Several petty chiefs of river tribes, who had been driven off by the Pequots, had sought refuge with the English, and were now brought back to their former homes and possessions. The mass of the Indians did not relish this return of their old rulers, for whom they had lost respect, and the result was that they became un- friendly to Plymouth men, and, without any violent demonstration, annoyed and obstructed them in various ways, by which the Dutch traders were rather benefited than injured. The Dutch made a more hostile demonstration. Though they had i-efrained from firing upon the little Plymouth vessel as it passed their fort, they speedily sent information of this intolerable encroachment on their assumed rights to the governor of New Amsterdam. That func- tionary immediately despatched a force to the Connecticut to drive out the intruders. This force, with that at the trading-post, numbered about seventy men, and, having landed, marched boldly towards the Plymouth post. Captain Holmes, who commanded the little band of Englishmen, and who had defied the Dutch when he passed their fort, was not at all dismayed by this martial display, and when summoned to surrender he EMIGRANTS FROM MASSACHUSETTS. 305 plumply refused, and intimated that he was prepared to fight. The Dutch, afraid to attack the little fortification, or unwilling to commence actual hostilities, finding that their show of force would not drive the English away, concluded to abandon the attempt, and retired. These pioneer traders were soon to be followed by settlers, who came to plant a permanent colony. In 1633, the Rev. Mr. Hooker, a clergy- man of the established church, who had been obliged to fly from Eng- land for non-conformity, with a number of his old parishioners, who were greatly attached to him, arrived at Boston and settled at Newtown. Some of them were men of substance, and they were disposed to go "where they could find more room, especially where there were "meadow- lands " on which to pasture their cattle. It was proposed that they should emigrate to the Connecticut valley, so highly praised by the In- dians; but the Puritan magistrates were opposed to the departure of these valuable citizens. The matter was brought before the court, and discussed pro and con. Mr. Hooker advocated it, on the ground that the settlements about Boston were too crowded; that it would be wiser to have them more widely separated; that there was a want of good land, and especially of meadow land. Mr. Cotton opposed it on the ground that it would greatly weaken the colony by taking away so val- uable a part of it; that their greatest poverty was a poverty of men; and that the emigrants would be exposed to the attacks of savages. The court voted that they ought not to go, and the consequence was a dissen- sion, which continued till the following year, when permission was given for those who desired to go whither' they would, provided they continued under the Massachusetts government. In the mean time, some of the settlers at Watertown had emigrated without waiting for leave to go. They started in the autumn, and the difficulties of the journey were such that winter had already come when they reached the Connecticut valley and selected for their settlement the present site of Wethersfield. The first emigration under the permission of the court was composed of some sixty men, women, and children from Dorchester, near Boston, with cows, horses, swine, and household goods. The journey of such a company through the forest, where they were often obliged to cut a path over rocky hills and through spongy swamps, across brooks and rivers, NO. vin. 39 306 PIONEERS AND SETTLERS IN CONNECTICUT. was a long and difficult one. But the men were bold and energetic; with their axes they cut a pathway, and with their muskets in hand they were prepared for any hostile attack; and the women and children cheerfully bore the hardships of the journey. It was the i5th of October when they started on their journey, and the winter, coming unusually early, was already upon them when they reached the valley of the Connecticut. On the i5th of November, the river was frozen over, and the snow was deep upon the ground. They selected for their settlement the site of the present town of Windsor, near the trading-post of the Plymouth colony, but they had not time to even build huts for themselves and sheds for their cattle, before the cold and tempestuous weather subjected them to great suffering. Their prin- cipal supplies and furniture had been sent by vessels, which had been so delayed, or wrecked, by the severe storms, that they had not arrived in the river before it was frozen, and they were soon short of provisions. Famine and death looked them in the face, and some, in despair, started back through the wilderness for Boston, one of whom was drowned on the way, and the others would have perished but .for the hospitality of Indians. A majority of the company went down the valley, hoping to meet some of the small vessels laden with their provisions. They were disappointed in that hope, but finding another small trading vessel frozen in some twenty miles from the mouth of the river, they all took refuge on board. Those who remained at the settlement suffered great priva- tion, obtaining a little game by hunting. and a small quantity of corn from the Indians, but forced at last to live on acorns and roots. A more important emigration took place the next year. This was composed principally of the Newtown people who had before sought permission to remove, and were led by the earnest and eloquent Hooker, and John Haynes, who, the previous year, had been governor of Massa- chusetts. There were also parties from Roxbury and Dorchester, led by Mr. Pynchon and Mr. Ludlow. More fortunate than their predeces- sors on this long and tedious journey, they started the last of May. The season was favorable; the forest was putting on its summer dress, wild flowers had begun to blossom, and the birds greeted them with song. They numbered about one hundred men, women, and children, all of whom travelled on foot except Mrs. Hooker, who, being sick, was car- HOOK.ER AND HIS FRIENDS REACH THE CONNECTICUT. ARRIVAL IN THE PROMISED LAND. 307 ried on a litter. They drove a herd of a hundred and sixty cattle, and the milk of the cows supplied them with grateful food. It was indeed a weary journey for such a company through the wil- derness hitherto trodden only by files of moccasoned Indians, save where the party which preceded them had left a narrow trail. The presence of women and children rendered short stages necessary, and the axe was often in requisition to open a pathway through the thickets, and to bridge some treacherous swamp or swollen stream, while it was no easy task to keep the cattle from straying into the woods. At night, boughs of ever- green were spread for the couches of the weary travellers, and arranged in bowers to shelter the less hardy from the dampness and cold. But it was an uncomplaining company, sustained by hope and a pious trust in Providence. Morning and evening they gathered around the devout Hooker while he lifted up his voice in prayer where prayer was never heard before, and cheered them with the promises once given to the wandering Israelites. At last they looked down upon the valley of the Connecticut, spreading out its broad green meadows, through which flowed the beautiful river, and they knelt in thanksgiving that their Canaan was at last reached. Though they made the journey to the Connecticut valley together, the parties from the several towns intended to make separate settlements. The Roxbury people, under William Pynchon, stopped at Agawam, where they founded the town of Springfield; those from Dorchester went farther down the river to join their friends who remained at Windsor; and the Newtown or Cambridge people, with Mr. Hooker and Mr. Haynes, went to Suckiang, still farther down, and commenced the settlement of Hartford. The year previous to the emigration of this party, John Winthrop the younger, a son of Governor Winthrop of Massachusetts, arrived at Bos- ton with a commission from Lords Say and Brook, who held the first grant of Connecticut, to take possession of the country in their behalf, and establish a colony there. He sent from. Boston a small vessel with twenty men and munitions to erect a fort at the mouth of the river, and thus make good the claim of his principals. This party landed and erected a small fort, which was the commencement of the town of Say- brook. The Dutch of New ' Amsterdam, as already, mentioned, had 308 PIONEERS AND SETTLERS IN CONNECTICUT. erected a fortified trading-post farther up the river, and learning that the New England colonists were disposed to settle in the valley, deter- mined to erect another fort at the mouth of the river, where they could prevent any rival trading vessels from entering the waters whose wealth they claimed as their own. An expedition was accordingly sent for that purpose, but when they saw the fort which had been erected by Win- throp's order, and over which floated the English colors, they acted with the same discretion they had shown when they marched up to the fort of the Plymouth people at Windsor, and sailed away again. The early settlers of Connecticut brought with them the Bible and the principles of democratic government, and though they mixed them together in a somewhat peculiar manner, it does not appear that either Bible or free institutions were the sufferers. The first steps taken were for the management of each settlement by its own people. When it became desirable for them to unite for the purposes of mutual defence and convenience, the union was entirely voluntary, for they were acting under no charter or commission. The form of government established was more liberal than that of Massachusetts. Church-membership was not made a prerequisite to the exercise of the rights of freemen, and there was rather more religious toleration. The colony managed its affairs for a long time without any charter, and quite successfully. Exposed at the outset to the hostility of a fierce and numerous tribe of Indians, with the aid of Massachusetts the settlers were delivered from the dangers of a long and terrible savage warfare. Occupying a fruitful soil, after the first year they did not experience want, and the advantages they enjoyed soon attracted many other emigrants to their several settlements. Among the pioneers in these earliest settlements in Connecticut the most prominent are Haynes, Ludlow, and Winthrop, though the latter, while identified with the early settlement at Saybrook, was not an actual settler until a later day. John Haynes, the foremost man among the settlers of the Connecticut valley, was a man of wealth, and of sterling character and ability. In Massachusetts, he was made assistant upon his first arrival, and in 1635 he was chosen governor, and served without any charge to the colony. He was a man of liberal views, and he had not sympathized with those HATNES. LUDLOW. WINTHROP. who drove Roger Williams into exile. Joining Mr. Hooker's church, he went with them to Connecticut, where he was influential in shaping the affairs of the new colony. He became governor, and hig wise man- agement, integrity, and liberality won the confidence of the people, so that he was elected governor every alternate year, the constitution or form of government adopted providing against a re-election of an in- cumbent. Ludlow, the next most prominent man among the early settlers, was no less able, but a more impetuous and ambitious man. He had aspired to be governor of Massachusetts, and, failing in that, he manifested his disappointment in some ill-natured talk about the assistants, so that he was left out of the magistracy also. Dissatisfied with Massachusetts, he went with the Dorchester people to Connecticut, where his ambition finally was gratified by being made deputy governor, and by his talents he rendered the colony good service. When the younger Winthrop came, his education, talents, and char- acter soon made him prominent. While not lax in his religious opinions or conduct, he devoted himself especially to the material welfare of the colony, and opposed persecution for conscience' sake. He was chosen governor in 1659, and was re-elected till 1676. During the first years of his service, he secured a charter which included in its limits the colony of New Haven, and that colony, after some opposition, was united with that of the Connecticut valley. XXXV. INDIAN MURDERS AND ENGLISH VENGEANCE. JHE settlers of Connecticut had come to a region inhab- ited by a numerous and warlike tribe of Indians, who from the first appearance of the whites manifested their hostility and their treacherous character. The first serious act of treachery and hostility was the murder of Captain Stone and all his crew in 1634, before the settlers came to the valley. Stone was a daring adventurer who brought himself into disrepute at Boston by some of his actions, and escaping punishment for some offence there, he went with his vessel to the Connecticut River for the purposes of trade. Mooring his vessel near the mouth of the river, he engaged some Indians to pilot two of his men up to the Dutch trading-house already established near the site of Hartford. At night these men fell asleep and were both murdered by their guides. In the mean time there were a number of Indians on board the vessel who had been trading with the captain, and appeared to be friendly. Stone was not very cautious, and per- mitted some of his men to go on shore, while he went to sleep in his cabin. The temptation was too great for the savage nature of the In- dians, and they murdered him. When the crew returned, the savages attacked them also, and killed all except Captain Norton, an associate of Stone's, who, taking to the cook's galley, defended himself bravely with his gun. In order to load and fire as rapidly as possible, he placed his powder in an open vessel, and by some means it exploded, and so injured and blinded him that he could make no further resistance, and he soon shared the fate of his companions. ,310 CAPTURE OF JOHN OLDHAM' S VESSEL. 311 The Indians declared that this massacre was an act of retaliation for the murder of one of their sachems. They said that he had been en- ticed on board the vessel, and was held a prisoner until he should be ransomed; and when they had collected the wampum which was de- manded, and sent it on board, their sachem was sent back to them dead. For this, they averred, the sachem's son, finding Captain Stone drunk in his cabin, had killed him. Whether there was really such provocation or not, the act caused some ill feeling in Massachusetts, and, with other hostile acts, led ulti- mately to the Pequot war. The Pequots were a formidable tribe, em- bracing a number of small tribes or clans, and inhabiting the southern and eastern portions of the present state of Connecticut. Sassacus, the principal sachem, dwelt near the mouth of the River Thames, where he had two considerable towns or villages surrounded with palisades. He was a warlike savage, and was exceedingly hostile towards the English, and it was supposed that, if he did not instigate the murder of Captain Stone, he shared in the plunder of his vessel. There was a standing feud between the Pequots and the Narragan- setts, the other most powerful of the Indian tribes of southern New Eng- land; and at one time Sassacus sent messengers to Boston to seek an alliance with the colonists, in order to strengthen himself against his old enemies. The governor, however, refused to treat with them because they did not come with proper " credentials," and he doubted their good faith. Other messengers were then sent, who bore some tokens of their authority to treat, and they were received, and a treaty of friendship was entered into. But there was apparently, on the part of the English, some distrust of the good faith of the Indians, and perhaps a purpose of treachery on the part of the latter, and the treaty was really of no account. John Oldham was not a favorite with the Puritans, who had heard of his undignified exit from Plymouth for an offence as grievous to them as it was to the Pilgrims, but his murder by the Indians led to the first war- like expedition of the Massachusetts colony. After his banishment from Plymouth, Oldham engaged in trading and fishing. In 1636 he went in a small vessel to Connecticut, and on his return, when off Block Island, his vessel was captured by the Indians, he was killed, and two boys, and two of the Narragansett tribe who were with him, were carried off. 312 INDIAN MURDERS AND ENGLISH VENGEANCE. One fair day in July, John Gallup, coming from Connecticut in another small vessel, manned by himself, his two boys, and one other sailor, saw a pinnace near Block Island, and steering towards it, discovered that the deck was filled with Indians, and that a canoe laden with goods was making for the shore. As Gallup's vessel approached, the Indians hoisted sail and attempted to get away; but Gallup, satisfied that there had been mischief, and being a bold man, got out his two guns and two pistols, and bearing down on the pinnace, fired duck-shot at them with such effect that he drove them all below deck. He then stood off for the purpose of trying the game of the ancient galley, or the more mod- ern "ram." Under a stiff breeze he bore down upon the pinnace, and, striking her amidships with the bow of his own vessel, he nearly upset her, and so frightened the Indians that six of them jumped overboard and were drowned. There were still too many Indians for him to en- counter, and he repeated the manoeuvre and bored the pinnace with his anchor, remaining fast long enough to give the savages another taste of the duck-shot through the hatchway. Getting free again, he bore down upon the little vessel a third time, and gave her such a shock that five more of the Indians leaped overboard and were drowned. The number of Indians was now so reduced that the intrepid Gallup ventured to board his prize. Two Indians surrendered, and were im- mediately bound; but two or three others remained below with their weapons, and would not yield. It now appeared that the pinnace was Oldham's vessel, and the remains of the owner, his head split with a hatchet and his body shockingly mangled, were found on board. What to do with his prize and his captives was a problem with Gallup. With only one man and two boys, he could not well take care of his two prisoners and manage the two vessels, while there was danger that the Indians below might come on deck at any moment, should they see a chance to take him or his companions unawares. The prisoners, too, though bound, might contrive to release each other. He promptly prevented the lat- ter contingency by throwing them overboard, and, not being able to get at the other Indians in the hold, he took what goods and sails were left, and then sailed away, with the pinnace in tow. But when night came on, the wind rose, and he was obliged to cast her adrift, and she was wrecked on the Narragansett shore. ENDICOT SENT TO PUNISH THE MURDERERS. 313 The Indians at Block Island, if not a branch of the Narragansetts, were as closely associated with them as with the Pequots, and there was reason to suppose that some of the Narragansett sachems had been privy to the attack on Oldham's vessel. But Canonicus and Miantonomoh, through the influence of Roger Williams, were friendly to the whites, and the latter went with a force of his warriors to punish the offenders. Canonicus sent to Governor Vane, of Massachusetts, a letter written by Williams, in which he deplored the affair, and gave assurances of his friendship. The Massachusetts magistrates were not admirers of the Narragansetts because of their friendly conduct towards Williams and others obnoxious to the Puritans, and though Vane probably did not share this feeling, he was disposed to believe that some of that tribe were responsible for the outrage. He therefore sent word to Canonicus that Oldham's two boys must be returned, and that the perpetrators of the offence must be punished. The boys were soon sent back, and one of the suspected Indians was also delivered up. Messengers were also sent to treat with Canonicus for future friendly relations. The sachem received them with "great pomp, and feasted them on " boiled chestnuts and blackberry pudding," but he was too wary to bind himself with conditions. The Massachusetts magistrates were not satisfied. There was an uneasiness among the Indians, and the hostility of the Pequots especially was becoming manifest. The government of the Massachusetts colony, as the largest and strongest, felt that it must by decisive measures put a stop to savage treachery and hostilities. Accordingly John Endicot was sent with a force of ninety men, with instructions to land at Block Island and put to death all the men, but to spare the women and chil- dren. This was to avenge the death of Oldham; and after accom- plishing this, he was directed to proceed to Connecticut, and demand from the Pequots the murderers of Captain Stone and his crew, together with an indemnity in the shape of a large quantity of wampum, and some Pequot children, to be held as hostages. With some difficulty, on account of the surf, Endicot landed at Block Island. The Indians made some show of resistance, but after sending a flight of arrows at the invaders, they betook themselves to the thicket of dwarf oaks and bushes. They had on the island two NO. viu. 40 314 INDIAN MURDERS AND ENGLISH VENGEANCE. large plantations, with a good supply of corn, and about sixty wigwams. Endicot destroyed the corn, and burned every wigwam he could find, and in the course of two days hunted out and killed fourteen Indians. He then re-embarked, and sailed to carry out his instructions with regard to the Pequots. Stopping at Saybrook, where Winthrop's fort was erected, he sought the assistance of Lieutenant Gardiner, who was in command with a small force. Gardiner was opposed to the expedition of Endicot, saying, " You come hither to raise these wasps about my ears, and then you will take wing and flee away; " but, against his judgment, he sent some of his men with it. Sailing to the Mystic River, where Sassacus, the principal sachem of the Pequots, dwelt, he landed with his force, to the great con- sternation of the Indians. He at once demanded the heads of the mur- derers of Captain Stone, and also an interview with Sassacus. Being told that Sassacus was absent, he asked for the next sachem in authority; but the Indians, pretending that he could not be found, secured a delay of some hours, and in the mean time removed their women and children. Finding he had been duped, Endicot marched to one of their villages, burned the deserted wigwams, destroyed the growing corn, and broke the canoes. The next day, he landed on the west shore and desolated the neighborhood in the same way, the Indians viewing from a distance the work of destruction, but not venturing to resist. Having accom- plished so much to intimidate, as he supposed, the hostile savages, he again embarked, and leaving the Saybrook men to return to the fort in their shallop, he sailed away for Boston. Gardiner's declaration that Endicot would " raise these wasps " proved true. When the expedition left Saybrook, he had expressed the hope that, if they, did not bring back their barks laden with Pequots, they might bring them laden with corn. After Endicot's departure, his men, in obedience to his instructions, went on shore again to take some of the corn not wholly destroyed. While doing this they were fiercely attacked by the Indians, but by a brave resistance they were able to reach their vessel, and escaped with several wounded. XXXVI. THE PEQUOT WAR. iNDICOT'S attack, instead of intimidating the Indians, { served to exasperate them. The Pequots were the most f warlike of the Indian tribes of New England; they were feared by all the other tribes on account of their num- bers and their bravery, and, proud of their superiority over their neighbors, they were by no means ready to yield to a few whites. Treacherous and cruel, they com- menced a warfare which, if continued, would soon have destroyed the little settlements of Connecticut. Not long after Endicot's expedition, as five of the Saybrook garri- son were carrying hay from a meadow at some distance from the fort, they were surprised by a party of Indians. One of them was captured, and was afterwards tortured to death; the others escaped to the fort, though one was pierced with five arrows. A few days after this, Joseph Tilly, master of a small vessel, with one of his men, went on shore to shoot fowls. Upon the discharge of his gun he was surrounded by a band of Pequots, who killed his companion and took him prisoner. Upon him the savages practised their cruelty, hacking off first his hands and then his feet, and otherwise torturing him, as if for the purpose of making him cry out in pain. But Tilly was a man of great nerve, and he understood the Indian character. Not all his suffering could extort from him a groan; and when the Indians told of their exploit, they did him the justice of pronouncing him a "stout man." The Indians now kept close watch upon the river and about the 315 3 i6 THE PE^UOT WAR. fort at Saybrook for the purpose of attacking any unwary parties of the English, or cutting off such as went too far from the fort. In several instances they were successful, and before winter the garrison was so annoyed by this stealthy and barbarous warfare that they were obliged to keep under the cover of their guns. Their houses outside the fort were torn down, their haystacks burned, their cattle killed or wounded. The fort itself seemed in danger, for the little garrison was reduced in numbers, and Captain Mason, with twenty men, was sent from Hartford to re-enforce it. While Mason was at Saybrook, a party of Pequots waylaid some of the people of Wethersfield as they were going to their fields with their cattle. Falling suddenly upon them when they were entirely unprepared, the Indians killed six men and three women, and slaughtered twenty cattle. They also carried off two young girls as captives, who were long sought in vain, and were mourned with a deeper sorrow than if they had fallen victims to the savage tomahawk. Fortunately they found a friend in the squaw of a petty sachem, who protected them with such care as the rude life of the Indians allowed. The Pequots, having thus whetted their appetites for English blood, determined to destroy all the settlements in Connecticut. The haughty and bold Sassacus, indeed, aimed at the destruction of all the whites in New England. For this purpose he sought an alliance with his old enemies, the Narragansetts, urging them to join in a war of extermina- tion against these invaders of the Indian hunting-grounds. Some of the minor sachems of the Narragansetts were not unwilling listeners to his plans to regain what the white man had artfully deprived them of, and to rid themselves of these strangers who sought to be their masters. But Canonicus and Miantonomoh, the grand sachems, who had thus far been friendly to the English, must be gained over to the plot, and join in the war with all the warriors of the tribe. To' them Sassacus sent his ablest and most artful sachems, to persuade them to unite with him in delivering the Indian race from the invaders. Rumors of the hostile movements of the Pequots had already reached the Massachusetts government, and Captain Undcrhill was sent with twenty men to re-enforce the garrison at Saybrook. In this time of danger the Puritan magistrates also sought the good offices of Roger ROGER WILLIAMS OPPOSING THE PECJUOT EMISSARIES ROGER WILLIAMS AND THE PEQUOT EMISSARIES. 317 Williams, whom they had driven into exile; and he, cherishing no resent- ment towards his persecutors, and anxious to protect the homes of the settlers from the horrors of savage warfare, promptly responded to the request. Alone he paddled his canoe across the bay, in spite of storm, and threaded the dismal forest to the home of Canonicus and Mianto- nomoh. The Pequot emissaries were already there, and the young men of the Narragansetts were but too ready to listen to their appeals, while they were using all their eloquence and art to gain over the more cau- tious sachems. Arrayed in their war-paint, these wily ambassadors artfully narrated all the encroachments of the whites, and the injustice and cruelty which had been practised, and enumerated the lives of red men which had been sacrificed by the invaders; and they appealed to the pride of the Narra- gansetts to maintain their possessions inviolate, and to join hands with their kindred and exterminate these white enemies of their race, who would otherwise exterminate them. Against the cunning artifices of these emissaries, who knew so well how to arouse the Indian spirit, Williams opposed the gentler words of peace and good-will. He was himself an example of justice and friendship towards, the natives, and by Canonicus and his nephew he was held in great respect. He appealed to them to continue the friendship they had hitherto manifested towards him and his people, and not to join with their old enemies to sacrifice their friends. Understanding well the Indian character, he boldly combated the cunning arguments and fierce appeals of the Pequot sachems, and for three days and nights he remained in the wigwam of Canonicus, speaking in the council, or privately urging his mission of peace. The mission was not without danger. The savage messengers of Sassacus would willingly have buried their tomahawks in the brain of their bold but peaceful opponent had they dared thus to violate the hospi- tality of the Narragansett sachems, and there were some young warriors who were restrained only by fear of their chiefs from secretly putting him out of the way. But with the principal sachems his words pre- vailed. They could not forget that the Pequots were their old and most dangerous enemies, who, having disposed of the whites, might wage a war of extermination upon their tribe; while with the powerful whites as their allies they might revenge their own wrongs and losses. 318 THE PE^UOT WAR. The proposed league was rejected, and the Pequot messengers returned unsuccessful in their efforts; but the fierce Sassacus was not deterred from his purpose. Williams, at the risk of his life, had thus secured the friendship or the neutrality of the Narragansetts, and saved the settlements, not only of Rhode Island, but of Massachusetts, from the terrors of a savage war, and he returned well satisfied to Providence, and notified the Massachu- setts government of his success. For this generous and invaluable ser- vice, while Winthrop and others were disposed to pass a vote of thanks, there were some among the Puritans who could not forget his heretical doctrines, and refused to allow him any merit. The settlements in Connecticut, numbering not much more than three hundred men, women, and children, were now exposed to the avowed hostility of a savage tribe that could muster a thousand warriors. They must at once prepare for resistance; and the court, having' assem- bled at Hartford, boldly declared war against the Pequots, and levied on the several settlements for a force of ninety men a small army, truly, to contend with so numerous an enemy. But they had an ally in Uncas, the chief of the Mohegans, a tribe inhabiting a region west of the Connecticut River, who were even more bitter enemies of the Pe- quots than the Narragansetts had been. He was ready enough to join the whites with a hundred warriors. The little army of Connecticut assembled at Hartford in the latter part of May, and to Captain John Mason was given the command. Mason had been a soldier in the Netherlands, long the school of war for Englishmen, and he was so good a soldier that, at a later period, his old commander desired that he should return to England and engage in the civil war. It was a day of great anxiety in the settlement, for all felt that upon this small force of brave men depended the safety of homes and the lives of women and children, and if a decisive blow was not struck quickly, the wily and treacherous savages might elude the armed force, and desolate the unprotected hamlets. The Rev. Mr. Hooker offered prayer, and besought the blessing of Heaven on the expedition; and then the company embarked in small vessels, and sailed down the river to meet their ally, Uncas, who awaited them near Saybrook. At that place Captain Underbill, with his twenty Massachusetts men, who TIMID NATIVES. had come to re-enforce the fort, joined Mason, and then the whole force of whites and Indians sailed eastward to the Mystic River. . The Pequots, in their palisaded stronghold on one of the neighboring heights, saw the vessels pass the river and disappear, and fancied that their enemies had vanished through fear. In their exultation they spent the early hours of the night in revelry, with no forebodings of the evils which were to come. The English, however, went to meet the Narra- gansett sachem, Miantonomoh, who had engaged to join in the war against their old enemies. With a military escort, the captains of the little force of whites repaired to the camp of the Narragansetts, where a grand council was held. Miantonomoh was brave, but he held the fierce Pequots in fear. * Your numbers are too weak," he said, " to brave the Pequots, who have mighty chieftains, and are powerful in battle." He did not know that civilized men, with fire-arms, were more than a match for threefold their numbers of savages, with their rude weapons and undisciplined bravery. He was unwilling to risk defeat, and refused to join in what he considered the desperate enterprise. Mason resolved, in spite of this defection, to carry out his design of a sudden and secret assault on the enemy, and with his Mohegan allies he returned by night to a position about two miles from the Pequot fort. Two hours before day he was ready for the attack, but before making the final advance, the English knelt and devoutly commended themselves to the God of battles. The moon shone brightly, enabling the assailants to move without difficulty, and they pressed forward eagerly, though in silence. When he had reached a point from which the assault could be made, Mason waited for his Indian allies to come up. For some time not an Indian appeared; but at last Uncas, with a renegade Pequot, who acted as guide, appeared. "Where are the rest of the Indians?" inquired Mason. " Behind, very much afraid," was the reply. Vexed at their cowardice, Mason said, " Tell them not to fly, but to stand off as far as' they please, and see whether Englishmen will fight." The Indian fort was an area of about twenty acres, surrounded by a strong palisade. In it there were sixty or seventy wigwams, built along some irregular streets or lanes. There were two entrances, one on the east and the other on the west side, and it was arranged that Mason 3 20 THE PE$_UOT WAR. should force open one, while Underhill moved to the other side and forced the other. Mason had approached within a rod of the palisade when a dog barked, and immediately after, some of the Indians, seeing the English, raised an alarm. No time was to be lost, and calling up his troops, the intrepid leader advanced to the entrance. It was blocked with bushes about breast-high, but Mason leaped over them, sword in hand, and entered the enclosure, followed by his lieutenant with sixteen men. Seeing no Indians, he entered one of the cabins, when he found himself confronted by a number of warriors, who were astounded at the sudden apparition. They quickly recovered sufficiently to attack the solitary Englishman, but with his sword he killed his first assailant, and was stoutly defending himself, when one of his men came to his assist- ance. The savages then gave way and escaped. It was Mason's purpose to kill the Indians, but to save their property. Leaving the wigwam, he passed through the lane between the cabins with his men, driving the Indians before him, and cutting down such as came within reach. At the farther extremity he met Underhill and his men, who had forced an entrance at the western gate, and had killed a number of the natives who were endeavoring to escape that way. While Underhill prevented escape by the western gateway, Mason and his men returned through the lane, the Indians swarming from the cabins with mingled war-whoops and screams of fear. Some of them discharged their arrows, but with little effect, and none seemed cool enough to make any determined attack on the handful of Englishmen who marched so boldly through their fortress. It was evidently a hope- less task for the latter to kill this horde of savages in the way Mason had proposed. But a victory must now be achieved, or the women and children of the unprotected settlements would speedily fall victims to the tomahawk and scalping-knife, or the more terrible tortures of captivity. There seemed but one way, and Mason exclaimed, "We must burn them!" Snatching a fire-brand from the floor of one of the cabins, he applied it to the dry mats of the roof. The flames spread rapidly, carried by the wind from cabin to cabin, till the whole village was on fire. The tumult increased, and the screams of Pequots were answered by the yells of Mohegans without the palisade, who had at last come near the fort. Men, women, and children rushed from the burning wigwams, and U o, d) I h fc z p o 3 Hi MASON'S VIC TORT. 321 meeting death by the sword, or the fearful fire-arms, fled wildly back to perish in the flames. If they attempted to pass over the palisades, the light of the conflagration exposed them plainly to the marksmen, while the Mohegans were ready to brain them if they escaped. The resistance of the warriors with their bows and arrows, or their clubs and tom- ahawks, was unavailing. Fear palsied their hands, and they shot wildly and without effect, while the English sword was more than a match for the rude weapons of the savage. The carnage was fearful, and soon the tumult within was drowned by the yells of the Mohegans without the palisade. The hissing and crackling of the flames subsided; the frail cabins were destroyed, and six hundred Pequots men, women, and children perished, the greater part of them in the flames of their dwellings. The victory and the carnage were complete; not one of the Pequots survived. Nor had the English escaped without loss; two of them were killed, and twenty were wounded. The surgeon had not come from the boats; provisions and ammunition were nearly exhausted; the situation was critical, for the enemy was yet strong in another fort. Mason pre- pared to return to his vessels, a considerable portion of his force being required to carry the wounded. While making preparations to move, a body of Pequot warriors was seen approaching. They numbered three hundred or more, and were the flower of the tribe, sent by Sas- sacus from his other stronghold, a few miles away, when he heard the sound of the English guns. They came on boldly, as if confident of success; but Mason's marksmen soon checked their advance, and then his forces took up their march for the vessels, the Mohegans taking good care to lead the way. When the English had retired, the Indians advanced, and then saw for the first time the work of destruction, and the piles of their dead kindred. Their sorrow and rage were expressed in fearful yells, and, burning for revenge, they rushed madly down the hill as if they would annihilate the little force of English. Captain Underhill with his men protected the rear, and checked the fierce onset of the enraged savages. But concealing themselves behind trees and rocks, they discharged their arrows from their hiding-places, and sometimes rushed out for a closer conflict. Underbill's muskets, however, dealt death and wounds to all NO. ix. 41 3 22 THE PEQUOT WAR. who exposed themselves, and at last, wearied out and discouraged, they abandoned the pursuit, and retired to indulge in lamentations over their lost kindred, and to upbraid their haughty sachem. Reaching Pequot Harbor, where their vessels lay, the larger part of the English embarked. Lest, thirsting for revenge, some prowling bands of Pequots should make a sudden attack on the settlements, they hastened home. The anxiety of those remaining in the towns during the absence of the little army may well be imagined. Only a few men and fewer arms remained for their protection. With fear and trembling the mother put her babes to rest, dreading lest the night might not pass without the sound of the terrible war-whoop or the blow of the tomahawk. Prayers for the safety of those who had gone to fight a wily and savage foe ascended constantly from each cottage. Spring, just ripening into summer, had clothed woods and meadows with beauty, but the season of joy and promise was made gloomy by fear and anxiety. When, after three weeks of absence, the little vessels came sailing up the river, great was the relief and the joy of the settlers, and fervent were the thanksgivings for the victory which Providence had granted. Underbill, with the smaller portion of the troops, marched across the land to Saybrook fort, where they were welcomed by Gardiner with all the honors due to victors, and were " nobly entertained with many great guns." Intelligence of Mason's achievement was immediately sent to Boston, with a request for aid to finish the war. Massachusetts, whose ill-advised expedition under Endicot was the chief cause of the Pequot hostility, promptly responded to the call for help, and one hundred and twenty men were sent, under the command of Stoughton, to aid in exterminating the enemy. The Massachusetts troops, landing on the banks of the Mystic, discovered a body of Pequots, and attacking them, killed thirty men, but spared the women and children. They then proceeded to Say- brook fort, where they were joined by Mason and forty men raised by the Connecticut settlements. The power of the Pequots was already broken, their pride was hum- bled, and they were completely demoralized. The survivors charged Sassacus, the sachem, whom they had hitherto regarded with fear and reverence, with being the cause of all their woes, and some of them THE END OF THE PEQUOTS. 323 threatened his life. They could no longer hold the land they had con- quered, and from which they had hurled defiance at all the neighboring tribes; and, dividing into several bands, they moved westward to find new homes, which were never reached. The -colonial troops started in pursuit, being especially anxious to capture Sassacus, whose savage ambition and conceit had induced his people to commence hostilities. Two sachems who had been captured were asked to point out the trail made by the party of their chief, but, loyal to their master, they persistently refused, and were forthwith killed. Their heads were set up on poles, as a terror to all Indians who might behold them, and the place where they were exposed is still known as "Sachems' Head." At last a trail of the retreating Pequots was found, and followed with all possible speed. It led to a swamp, within which it was discovered that the Indians had encamped. Eighty Pequot warriors, with their families, were here seeking a temporary refuge with some two hundred Indians of a tribe which inhabited this region. With difficulty the sol- diers penetrated the swamp, and being unacquainted with the ground, some of them sank in the morass so that they could scarcely extricate themselves. In this condition they were attacked by the Indians and forced to retire. Encouraged by their success, the savages bade defiance to their pursuers. The English then surrounded the swamp, their lim- ited numbers compelling them to place their men some distance apart; but the lines were gradually contracted, so that the Indians were really closely besieged. At this stage, the tribe with whom the Pequots had taken refuge begged for quarter, saying that they had taken no part in the war, and they were allowed to go out. The Pequots, however, were still defiant, and responded with flights of arrows to the deadly fire of the soldiers. At last, taking advantage of a fog, they made a desperate sally at one point of the besiegers' line. There was a brief hand-to- hand conflict, and then fifty warriors escaped. Twenty had already been killed, and the few men who remained could no longer resist. One hundred and eighty, mostly women and children, were taken prisoners, with all their little stock of utensils and provisions that they were taking to a new home. Among them were found the two girls who had been taken captive at Wethersfield. They were restored 3 2 4 THE PEQUOT WAR. to their parents in safety, and the squaw who had befriended them, for her kindness, was spared the fate which awaited the others. Sassacus, with a few followers, made his way to the Mohawks and besought their friendship. That tribe, however, were old enemies of the Pequots, and the fugitive sachem found no sympathy in his misfortunes. They treacherously killed him and his men, and sent his scalp to the whites; and the rulers of Connecticut, rejoicing in the destruction of so formidable an enemy, sent a lock of hair cut from the trophy to their brethren in Massachusetts. The captives and booty were divided between Massachusetts and Connecticut. Some of those apportioned to Massachusetts were sent to the West Indies and sold as slaves, an act of cruelty which can be palliated only by the spirit of the age. Most of the others were distrib- uted among the friendly tribes of Indians, for it was determined that the Pequot tribe should no longer exist, even in name. The most warlike and powerful of the New England tribes was thus wiped out of existence by a mere handful of English settlers. It was a fearful destruction, and a terribly cruel one. But on the part of the whites, the war was waged in self-defence. The terrible massacres in Virginia told them to what fate they were exposed, so long as hostile and treacherous savages around them were not intimidated; and war, always barbarous, in those days was more cruel than among civilized nations in recent times. XXXVII. COLONIES OF NEW HAVEN AND SAYBROOK. HE settlement at New Haven was commenced by more rigid and zealous Puritans than those who first came to the Connecticut valley. The Rev. John Davenport, with Theophilus Eaton and other substantial London merchants, arrived in Boston in 1637, and others of their friends were then preparing to follow them. The Massachusetts rulers gave them a hearty welcome, and offered inducements for such substantial emigrants to settle within the limits of the colony. They, however, were not disposed to stop there, for two reasons: there seemed to be "no good lands" to be taken up, and there were rumors that a governor-general of the existing colonies was to be appointed by the king, and they desired to get beyond the reach of a royal ruler. The pursuit of the Pequots beyond the Connecticut River had brought to notice some excellent lands and good situations for settlements, and the new emigrants at once sent parties to purchase some of these lands of the Indians. In March, 1638, Davenport and Eaton, with a considerable company of those who had come over to join them, went by water from Boston to the region they had purchased, and on a pleasant bay called by the Indians Quinnipiac, they established their settlement, and subsequently called it New Haven. The next year, another party of emigrants from the south of England came over and settled at Menunkatuck, where they founded the town of Guilford. From this time forward new parties came from England and the older settlements, and settling in the vicinity 3 2 5 3 2 6 COL ONT OF NE W HA YEN. of New Haven, came shortly under the jurisdiction of the government there set up. The leading men among the settlers of New Haven were merchants from London. While they were Puritans, and had come to New Eng- land to escape persecution, they were also men of trade, and hoped to thrive by commerce. Although they wanted plenty of room and good lands, the cultivation of the soil was only a secondary matter with them, and they proposed to found a trading town, to barter with the Indians, and to export furs, and timber, and corn, or whatever else the country might produce. Trade and commerce, however, did not prove so suc- cessful as they anticipated, and they suffered many losses, which they piously ascribed to "the Lord being against them." The settlers of Guilford were gentlemen and yeomen, and almost all of them planters, and finding " good lands," they led a quiet and con- tented life, without the anxieties of the New Haven merchants. Among them were William Leete, who was .afterwards governor of the united colonies of Connecticut and New Haven, and others who were prom- inent in the early affairs of the colony. The settlers at Milford came chiefly from Wethersficld. The pio- neers of that settlement had come from Massachusetts without the permission of the General Court, and in opposition to its decision. They were a high-spirited and excitable people, and apparently were somewhat adventurous as well as wilful. They were not by any means intimidated when the Indians murdered some of their number and carried off two children into captivity, but were eager to fight the Pequots and to exterminate them. Their spirit of independence led them into contro- versies among themselves, and sometimes they carried discord into the new settlements which they joined by renewing their controversies there. The first year there was no civil government organized by these various settlements, but the settlers entered into a covenant to be gov- erned "by the rules which the Scripture held forth to them." This seemed sufficient while they were few and all of one mind, and interpreted the Scriptures literally. In 1639, however, there was a meeting of the free- men of New Haven to organize some sort of civil government, and, as they had no town-house nor meeting-house, it was held in " Mr. Newman's barn." A simple constitution was adopted, which provided that only THE MOSAIC CODE. 3 2 7 church-members should be free burgesses or voters; and as no church then existed by uniting with which men might become free burgesses, a church was organized with "seven pillars," as a foundation for the civil government. The seven pillars of the church, who regulated its affairs and the admission of church-members, subsequently convened the " free burgesses," and they chose Mr. Eaton governor, with seven assistants, or magistrates. The colonists, at that time, did not require much law, and experience had not taught them what they did need; but they meant to be a religious community, and, believing that the Bible was the only safe guide, they adopted the laws of Moses as their only code, and the governor and magistrates were expected to administer them. For some years the Mosaic law was duly observed, and its pen- alties enforced, when necessary. But when new towns were founded, and population increased, and interests multiplied, it was found that Moses had not prescribed rules exactly adapted to their condition or state of society, and the ancient code was gradually modified. Minister Davenport shaped the laws, however, and they were still based on the Bible, but in some respects the Mosaic code was considerably softened.* The settlers at Guilford, Milford, and other places about New Haven, adopted the same method of regulating church and civil affairs, and for several years maintained separate organizations. They afterwards found it for their advantage to unite under one government, and attached them- selves to that of New Haven. Neither the colony of Connecticut nor that of New Haven had any charter or grant from the king, directly or indirectly. They had pur- chased their lands of the Indians, and set up their governments by the will of the people. But there was another settlement that at Say- brook which, according to English ideas, had a superior right to exist, and to organize a government. The fort at Saybrook had been built, and the territory adjacent to the Connecticut claimed, under the patent granted to Lords Say and Brook. Those noblemen had contemplated coming to America themselves, but finally abandoned the purpose. George Fenwick came over as their agent, and established an indepen- dent government at. Saybrook, though there was little besides the fort * The "Blue Laws" of Connecticut, for which the Puritans have been so much ridiculed, never had any existence except in imagination. 3 26 COL ONT OF NE W HA YEN. of New Haven, came shortly under the jurisdiction of the government there set up. The leading men among the settlers of New Haven were merchants from London. While they were Puritans, and had come to New Eng- land to escape persecution, they were also men of trade, and hoped to thrive by commerce. Although they wanted plenty of room and good lands, the cultivation of the soil was only a secondary matter with them, and they proposed to found a trading town, to barter with the Indians, and to export furs, and timber, and corn, or whatever else the country might produce. Trade and commerce, however, did not prove so suc- cessful as they anticipated, and they suffered many losses, which the}' piously ascribed to "the Lord being against them." The settlers of Guilford were gentlemen and yeomen, and almost all of them planters, and finding " good lands," they led a quiet and con- tented life, without the anxieties of the New Haven merchants. Among them were William Leete, who was .afterwards governor of the united colonies of Connecticut and New Haven, and others who were prom- inent in the early affairs of the colony. The settlers at Milford came chiefly from Wethersfield. The pio- neers of that settlement had come from Massachusetts without the permission of the General Court, and in opposition to its decision. They were a high-spirited and excitable people, and apparently were somewhat adventurous as well as wilful. They were not by any means intimidated when the Indians murdered some of their number and carried off two children into captivity, but were eager to fight the Pequots and to exterminate them. Their spirit of independence led them into contro- versies among themselves, and sometimes they carried discord into the new settlements which they joined by renewing their controversies there. The first year there was no civil government organized by these various settlements, but the settlers entered into a covenant to be gov- erned "by the rules which the Scripture held forth to them." This seemed sufficient while they were few and all of one mind, and interpreted the Scriptures literally. In 1639, however, there was a meeting of the free- men of New Haven to organize some sort of civil government, and, as they had no town-house nor meeting-house, it was held in " Mr. Newman's barn." A simple constitution was adopted, which provided that only THE MOSAIC CODE. 327 church-members should be free burgesses or voters; and as no church then existed by uniting with which men might become free burgesses, a church was organized with "seven pillars," as a foundation for the civil government. The seven pillars of the church, who regulated its affairs and the admission of church-members, subsequently convened I the "free burgesses," and they chose Mr. Eaton governor, with seven assistants, or magistrates. The colonists, at that time, did not require much law, and experience had not taught them "what they did need; but they meant to be a religious community, and, believing that the Bible was the only safe guide, they adopted the laws of Moses as their only code, and the governor and magistrates were expected to administer them. For some years the Mosaic law was duly observed, and its pen- alties enforced, when necessary. But when new towns were founded, and population increased, and interests multiplied, it was found that Moses had not prescribed rules exactly adapted to their condition or state of society, and the ancient code was gradually modified. Minister Davenport shaped the laws, however, and they were still based on the Bible, but in some respects the Mosaic code was considerably softened.* The settlers at Guilford, Milford, and other places about New Haven, adopted the same method of regulating church and civil affairs, and for several years maintained separate organizations. They afterwards found it for their advantage to unite under one government, and attached them- selves to that of New Haven. Neither the colony of Connecticut nor that of New Haven had any charter or grant from the king, directly or indirectly. They had pur- chased their lands of the Indians, and set up their governments by the will of the people. But there was another settlement that at Say- brook which, according to English ideas, had a superior right to exist, and to organize a government. The fort at Saybrook had been built, and the territory adjacent to the Connecticut claimed, under the patent granted to Lords Say and Brook. Those noblemen had contemplated coming to America themselves, but finally abandoned the purpose. George Fenwick came over as their agent, and established an indepen- dent government at. Saybrook, though there was little besides the fort * The '-'Blue Laws" of Connecticut, for which the Puritans have been so much ridiculed, never had any existence except in imagination. 328 COL ONT OF SA TBR O OK. over which to exercise jurisdiction. By virtue of his employers' patent he laid claim to some of the settlements on the river, but his pretensions were not kindly received nor persistently maintained; and when the grantees abandoned the purpose of coming to America (in 1644), he conveyed the grant to Connecticut.* Fenwick's colony gave place to settlers from other places, and when he returned to England he left nothing more memorable than a mon- ument to his wife, the Lady Anne Botclcr, who died at Saybrook. This moss-grown monument, of rough and singular form, is still in existence. Fenwick, after his return to England, was a prominent man among the Puritans, and was one of the " regicide judges." * Not only did Lord Say and Seal and Lord Brooke propose coming to New England, but it is asserted by some authorities that, while Charles I. was indulging his despotic temper, and before his struggle with parliament commenced, Oliver Cromwell, John Hampclen, and other distinguished cham- pions of popular rights, also contemplated emigrating, and that they were only prevented from em- barking by an express order of the king. This assertion is not well supported by evidence, but to the dreamer of possibilities it suggests a wide field for conjecture as to the effect of such an emi- gration on New England ; how different would have been the career of those men if circumscribed by the narrow limits of those scattered settlements ; how changed would be the pages of English history. XXXVIII. UNITED COLONIES OF NEW ENGLAND. jHE Pcquot war first suggested the confederation of the New England colonies. Such a union was proposed and dis- cussed immediately after the war as a measure of mutual protection, but it was not carried into effect till several years afterwards. Then the fears, not only of Indian hos- tilities, but of the encroachments of the French on the one side, and especially of the Dutch on the other, led to a more urgent renewal of the scheme. The civil war in England, which had already broken out between the king and parliament, was an additional motive for a union at this time. Commissioners from the four colonies of Saybrook, Connecticut, New Haven, and Plymouth went to Boston and met a like representation of the Massachusetts colony, for the purpose of forming a confederation. The colonies at Providence and Rhode Island were not invited to join, the others not being willing to have any dealings with such dangerous heretics. With due deliberation, and a careful reservation of the rights of the several colonies, a union was formed, the prototype of that later union of all the colonies by which their independence was achieved, and that still later and more perfect union of the states under which a powerful nation has grown up to take a foremost place among the nations of the world. The affairs of the confederacy were intrusted to commissioners, consisting of two from each colony, who were to assemble annually, or oftener if exigencies required, and might deliberate on all things which were " the proper concomitants or consequents of a confederation." The affairs of peace and war, especially as relating to the Indians, were to NO. ix. 42 329 330 UNITED COLONIES OF NEW ENGLAND. be conducted by these commissioners; they were authorized in certain cases to make internal improvements for the common benefit at the common charge; and they were to see that each of the confederates ren- dered prompt justice to the others. While such were their powers and duties, they had no executive power to enforce their decrees, and it remained for the colonies to carry their votes into effect. Their decision, however, made it incumbent on each of the confederates to act. The articles of confederation provided for the admission of new members by consent of the rest; but there were no colonies which the confederates were willing to admit. The settlers in New Hamp- shire and Maine had no independent civil government, and in religion were by no means agreeable to the Puritans. Rhode Island and the Providence Plantations desired to participate in the benefits of the union, but Massachusetts could not yet tolerate the heresies of Roger Williams, and Plymouth claimed that Rhode Island was a rebel against her juris- diction. Each of the colonies had two commissioners, the smaller having the same representation as the larger. When the commissioners assembled, those from Massachusetts claimed precedence and the right to preside, as representing much the largest population and most important inter- ests. The other commissioners, however, were not disposed to yield the rights of their colonies, and would not admit the claim; but in view of the larger population of that colony they consented that its commis- sioners should have precedence in some respects, and should sign all papers first. The colonists, from the first, had been left to take care of them- selves, without any interference or aid from the mother country. When, at last, the attention of the government was turned towards the colo- nies, and measures were taken to assert the royal authority over them, the troubles at home prevented a consummation of the purpose, and they were still left to themselves. The confederation was therefore a wise measure for their mutual protection and the promotion of their common interests; it proved of even greater benefit than was antici- pated, and continued for fifty years. XXXIX. UNCAS AND MIANTONOMOH. NE of the first subjects of importance to come before the commissioners of the United Colonies, was an alleged hostile movement of the Narragansett Indians. After the destruction of the Pequots this tribe was the most powerful in New England. Next in importance to the Narragan- setts was the tribe of Mohegans, occupying the territory between the Narragansetts and the Connecticut River. Uncas, the sachem of the Mohegans, had early estab- lished friendly relations with the settlers on the Connecticut River, seek- ing their alliance as a protection against the Pequots. He had more of the qualities of the statesman than most of the native chieftains, and was quite as shrewd as he was brave. While always faithful to his white allies, he was jealous and treacherous towards rival Indians. The Mohegans and Narragansetts were old enemies, and, when the fiercer and more powerful Pequots were out of the way, they were disposed to try their strength against each other. The Narragansetts were on very friendly terms with Roger Williams and his people, and Williams had great influence with their sachems, Canonicus and Miantonomoh, as was shown when he induced them not to join the Pequots in their hostilities against the Connecti*cut settlers. The Massachusetts rulers, however, regarded the Narragansetts with distrust, partly because they had shown so great friendship towards Williams and others who had been banished for heresy, and partly because they had, at an- early period, sent a threatening message to Plymouth. There were now, too, on the borders of Narragansett Bay 331 332 UNCAS AND MIANTONOMOH. some settlers who had been driven from Massachusetts for their heresies and obnoxious conduct, and who were malevolent enough to stir up an ill feeling in the Indians towards the Massachusetts colony. Among these were Gorton, of whom mention has been made on a preceding page. Knowing this, the Massachusetts people naturally felt some un- easiness at any suspicious movement of the Narragansetts. Uncas had made war upon Sequasson, a Connecticut sachem, a kinsman of Miantonomoh, and thus provoked the anger of the Narra- gansett chief, and he longed for revenge. The Mohegan sachem was no less fierce against Miantonomoh, but he feared the more powerful tribe of his enemy, should he make war alone. With the alliance of the whites, however, who had so quickly destroyed the mighty Pequots, he could conquer the Narragansetts, and thus gratify his long-cherished purpose of revenge and his ambition. He persuaded the colonists of Hartford and New Haven that Miantonomoh was planning a general massacre of the English. The Connecticut colonies prepared to go to war, and solicited the aid of Massachusetts. But that colony was far- ther away from the hostile Indians, and was not inclined to act hastily. The magistrates determined to inquire into the matter before taking so critical a step as making war upon this formidable tribe, and they sum- moned Miantonomoh to Boston. The Narragansett sachem was not a crafty and intriguing character, but a haughty, impetuous, and outspoken savage, and it speaks well for his innocence of any hostile purpose that he answered the summons of the Massachusetts magistrates. He indignantly denied the alleged conspiracy, and, declaring that it was a calumny of Uncas, demanded to meet the accuser face to face. Finding no evidence to support the charge, the magistrates were forced to take his word, and he was dis- missed. But he had been treated as a culprit, and not with the consid- eration which he felt was due to a powerful sachem. He had not been permitted to sit at the magistrates' table, and was otherwise, as he con- ceived, treated with indignity. He therefore returned to his tribe in no very happy mood, and, while he had given his hand to Governor Win- throp in token of peace, he doubtless considered that he was absolved from all obligation not to make war upon his' malignant accuser, Uncas. When the captive Pequots, and the booty taken with them, were divided, a promise was exacted from the Mohegans and Narragansetts to maintain MIANTONOMOH ON THE WAR-PATH. 333 peace with each other, as well as towards the whites. Miantonomoh was an ignorant savage, but he was not far wrong if he construed the accusation of Uncas as a design to precipitate war, and in reality the first hostile act. The Narragansett chief had hardly left Boston when letters were again received from Connecticut urging immediate measures to defeat the plot. But the Massachusetts magistrates were not satisfied that the alleged plot existed, or that there was a necessity for any preparations for war. The Connecticut colonies were not prepared to commence hostilities without the aid of Massachusetts, and the winter passed with- out any warlike movement on the part of the Indians. The next spring, Miantonomoh was again summoned to Boston to answer a complaint made by two petty sachems, who claimed to be independent, that he had conveyed their lands to Gorton and his associates. " Being de- manded, in open court, before divers of his own men and other Indians, whether he had any interest in the said two sachems .as his subjects, he could prove none." He could prove none to the satisfaction of the magistrates, but in his own mind his claim to the allegiance of these rebellious sachems was perfect, and his temper was by no means mol- lified by the action of the magistrates. Miantonomoh returned to the shores of Narragansett Bay with the desire for revenge burning in his heart. He doubtless believed that the unfriendliness of the Massachusetts people was inspired by his old enemy, Uncas, and, disregarding all former pledges of peace, he re- solved on war with the Mohegans. It is said that he sent a message to Governor Winthrop, announcing his purpose, but there was then no time to prevent or dissuade him from putting it in execution. Within a month from the time he left Boston he was on the war-path, with five hundred followers, and invaded the territory of the Mohegans. Uncas led out all the warriors he could muster, who numbered, how- ever, not more than half as many as the Narragansetts. But the crafty sachem of the Mohegans was more than a match for his enemy. As the two forces drew near each other, and before they commenced fight- ing, Uncas advanced in front of his warriors, and demanded an inter- view with Miantonomoh. The Narragansett chief went out to meet him, while his followers disposed themselves to observe this unusual proceeding. The rival chiefs, always and with reason suspicious of 334 UNCAS AND MIANTONOMOH. enemies, did not approach each other very closely, and Uncas addressed Miantonomoh in a loud voice, to which the Narragansetts listened with close attention. He proposed that the warriors of the two tribes should not fall to killing each other, but that they two should fight it out in single combat. Miantonomoh, knowing his superiority of numbers, refused the challenge. Uncas then threw himself flat upon the ground, which was a preconcerted signal to his followers. With a fierce yell, they immediately let fly a flight of arrows at the Narragansetts, who were wholly unprepared for such a termination of the interview between the sachems. With that lack of real courage which characterized the un- disciplined savages, they fled in dismay. The Mohegans, elated by their sudden success, fiercely pursued. Miantonomoh retreated with his tribe; but there were traitors among his followers, who, in order to obtain favor with Uncas, prevented his escape, and delivered him into the hands of his enemy. Their treachery, however, was rewarded by a death- blow from the.Mohegan chief. Uncas, for some reason, forbore to dispose of his prisoner by torture and death, after the custom of the Indians, and taking him to Hartford, delivered him, at his own request, into the custody of the colonists. The wily savage doubtless thought he should secure still more firmly the friendship of the whites by delivering to them the enemy they so much feared. What disposition should be made of the prisoner was a troublesome question with the colonists. They were afraid to release him, for fear of giving offence to Uncas, and they had no just cause for punishing him with death. The matter was therefore referred to the commissioners of the United Colonies, who were then holding their first session at Boston. The views of the Connecticut colonists were probably urged with some force, and whatever evidence they had of a purpose among the Indians to massacre the whites was presented with such effect as to satisfy even the Massachusetts men, who had hitherto been inclined to doubt. The commissioners therefore found that it was " clearly discov- ered that there was a general conspiracy among the Indians to cut off all the English, and that Miantonomoh was the head and contriver of it." They further found it " sufficiently evidenced that Miantonomoh and his confederates had in sundry ways manifested their enmity against the life of Uncas." Having established these premises to their satisfaction, they DEATH OF MIANTONOMOH. 335 were not so clear as to the disposition to be made of the offender, and they asked the advice of five of " the most judicious " of the fifty min- isters then assembled at Boston. The ministers had less difficulty than the laymen: they found in the Bible precedents for their predetermina- tion. Miantonomoh must die. By the laws of Indian warfare, the cap- tive's life was forfeit to his captor, and the Bible sanctioned the putting to death of enemies. With the advice of the ministers, therefore, the commissioners came to the conclusion " that Uncas cannot be safe while Miantonomoh lives, but either by secret treachery or open force his life will still be in danger. Wherefore they think he may justly put such a false and bloodthirsty enemy to death." It was further decided, however, that the condemned chief should not be tortured or otherwise outraged by his savage executioner. The decision of the commissioners was satisfactory to the people of Connecticut. Miantonomoh was delivered to his triumphant enemy, with instructions to take him beyond the limits of the settlement and put him to death. At the same time, a number of soldiers were sent with him to see that the condemned chief was not tortured, and that no indignity should be inflicted on his lifeless body. No word of his doom was whispered to Miantonomoh, and he went forth with a firm and elastic step, as if he anticipated his liberty and a return to his kindred. If such were his anticipations they were speedily ended, for a brother of Uncas, walking behind him, suddenly buried his hatchet in the proud sachem's brain. Miantonomoh was dead; the savage's thirst for vengeance was appeased, and the fears of the whites were allayed. Though some white soldiers were present to see that no indignity should be offered to the body of the murdered sachem, Uncas hastened to cut a piece of flesh from his shoulder and eat it with savage delight, say- ing it was the sweetest morsel he ever tasted, and made his heart strong. Such was the treacherous, cruel, and unnecessary taking off of the Narragansett sachem, who had shown more of friendship than of enmity to the English, and it was counselled and approved by the ministers whose advice was sought! At this distance of time, it appears as if the friendship of the Narragansett sachems towards Williams and the other settlers in Rhode Island, who were so obnoxious to the Puritans of Massachusetts and Connecticut, had created a prejudice in the minds of the latter which made them ready to believe any evil of those chiefs, 336 UN CAS AND MIANTONOMOH. and anxious to inflict on them the punishment which some would will- ingly have visited on the white heretics. The condemnation of Mian- tonomoh, and giving him into the hands of his bloodthirsty enemy to be murdered, is a blot on the character of the magistrates and ministers which their fears of an Indian war may palliate, but cannot excuse. Miantonomoh was buried where he fell, and the place received the name of " Sachem's Plain." The members of his tribe each laid a stone upon his grave whenever they passed that way, and it is said that some of them made annual pilgrimages to the spot, to pay this simple tribute to the memory of their lamented sachem. As might be expected, the killing of Miantonomoh did not make the Narragansetts more peaceful. Pessacus, Miantonomoh's brother and successor, threatened to revenge on Uncas the death of the unfortunate sachem. The mischievous border settlers on Narragansett Bay did all they could to stir up discontent and hostility among the Indians towards the colonies of Massachusetts and Connecticut. The wise and concil- iatory course of the commissioners, however, prevented any actual war- fare between the rival tribes of Indians, and any attack upon the whites. But the hostile spirit of the savages, though quieted for a time, was not quenched. It was nursed in secret by the memory of those days when the colonies protected and aided their enemy, and it was not infrequently aroused by wrongs and outrages committed by individual settlers, and the stern authority which the colonies asserted over them. At last, when the Indians had learned some of the arts of civilized life, and had ob- tained fire-arms and learned how to use them, that hostile spirit broke forth in "King Philip's war." Uncas always remained a faithful friend to the Connecticut colonies, but he was treacherous towards his own race. Whenever he thought he could profit by it, he did not hesitate to stir up the colonists against the neighboring tribes, and the Connecticut people were only too ready to believe his untrustworthy representations. More politic than most Indians, he made his savage propensities subordinate to his interest, and he was shrewd enough to see that his interest lay in a firm alli- ance with the more powerful whites. The Connecticut settlers were equally faithful to their ally, and bestowed many tokens of favor on him and -his descendants. XL. THE CONNECTICUT COLONISTS AND THE DUTCH AND INDIANS. \ HE colonies of Connecticut and New Haven welre com- posed of men of enterprise and spirit, and while they had come to New England avowedly to escape persecution and to enjoy their manner of worship undisturbed, they manifested no little zeal in promoting their temporal in- terests and the extension of their trade and their territory. For exemplary Christians, too, they were a good deal in- clined to war. They had destroyed the Pequots, and, influenced by Uncas, they would have had the united colonies in a like manner exterminate the Narragansetts but for the more cautious action of Massachusetts. Their next trouble was with the Dutch of New Netherlands. They tolerated the trading-fort at Good Hope, near Hart- ford, though not with a very good grace; but they did not tolerate the efforts of the New Netherlands people to establish themselves at points west of New Haven. They looked upon New Amsterdam itself as an unwarrantable intrusion upon lands which belonged to England. The people of the Connecticut and New Haven colonies soon planted settlements at Greenwich and other points west of New Haven, and disputed the right of the Dutch to trade with the Indians, or to establish trading-posts there. The veracious Diedrich Knickerbocker says that the Connecticut people planted their onions nearer and nearer each year to the Hudson, and compelled the Dutch to retire with tears in their eyes. An equally veracious and impartial chronicler of Connecticut NO. ix. 43 337 338 THE CONNECTICUT COLONISTS. might have said that the Dutch crept through the onion beds to set their beaver traps under the noses of the English. Such was substan- tially the conflict between the two sets of pioneers on the soil of West- ern Connecticut. Complaints and counter complaints were frequent between the set- tlers at Hartford and the Dutch at the trading-post of " Good Hope," near by, and there were frequent collisions between them, in which it would seem that the Dutch, on the whole, got the worst of it. Among the wrongs complained of by the English settlers were the follow- ing: An Indian woman, who was a captive, and servant of one of the settlers, and who had committed some offence, and was liable to public punishment, fled to the Dutch fort and was there entertained and pro- tected, and the commander refused to surrender her. Some Dutch horses having been impounded for doing damage to the corn of the English, were forcibly seized by the Dutch, who as- saulted and beat an Englishman for interfering. One notorious offender, imprisoned for a capital offence, was aided to escape by a negro belonging to the Dutch, who was not called to account for so doing. The Dutch received stolen goods, and married English couples whose marriage was refused by the Connecticut magistrates. They put cattle in the English cornfields, opposed the erection of fences, and cut them down, and committed divers other acts to prevent the English from planting, and enjoying the fruits of their labor. On the other hand, the Dutch complained of a still longer catalogue of injuries which they suffered at the hands of the English settlers, and among them were the following: The English prevented the Dutch from planting lands which the latter had purchased, and then proceeded to plant them themselves. They beat the Dutch servants who were at work for their masters, and "struck Ever Duckings a hole in his head with a stick, so that the blood ran down very strongly down on his body." The constable of Hartford, with ten armed men, came upon the lands of the Dutch when they were ploughing, and " smote the horses with sticks," so that they broke the gear and ran away. ENGLISH AND DUTCH (QUARRELS IN CONNECTICUT. CONTENTIONS BETWEEN ENGLISH AND DUTCH. 339 The English continued to hinder them in the possession of their land, " with blows and strokes even to the shedding of blood." They took a Dutch horse, and a cow and calf, and impounded them for trespassing when they had not trespassed. An English minister took hay which the Dutch had cut and made on their own land, and appropriated it to his own use. These complaints show a very unpleasant condition of affairs, and anything but a peaceful state in the little colony of Hartford. There was an irrepressible conflict between the representatives of the two nations, and, as the English were the most numerous, and withal the most aggressive, the Dutch, in this border warfare, undoubtedly got the worst of it. We can imagine with what sober earnestness the English maintained their "rights," and how vigorously they fell upon the offend- ing Dutchmen with " sticks and staves," and what a volley of Dutch oaths was discharged from the fort of Good Hope. While the English settlers and the Dutch traders were disputing, the relations between the two mother countries became unfriendly, and the Dutch West India Company, by whom the settlement of New Amster- dam was made, instructed their governor, Stuyvesant, to " live with his neighbors on as good terms as possible." Under these instructions, the governor attempted to negotiate with the English colonies for the set- tlement of their rival claims. But he did not meet with much success. The commissioners of the United Colonies, who had jurisdiction in such matters, ignored the claims of the Dutch, and forbade " all persons but such as were inhabitants within the English jurisdictions, and subject to their laws and government," to trade with the Indians within those juris- dictions. These jurisdictions were not definitely settled, but the colonies and the commissioners were disposed to consider them as extending over a great part, at least, of the territory where the Dutch were then trading. Anxious to bring about more amicable relations with the English colonies, which he began to fear, Stuyvesant resolved to meet the com- missioners in person, and he accordingly went to Hartford while they were in session there. He was not received with much cordiality by the people and magistrates of that colony, nor with much respect for the dignity which he thought belonged to his office. After being there 34 THE CONNECTICUT COLONISTS. two days he addressed a letter to the commissioners, and inadvertently, or thinking perhaps that where he was his jurisdiction extended, espe- cially where the Dutch claimed rights, he dated his letter at New Neth- erlands. The commissioners, suspicious that he was setting a trap to catch from them some admission of the Dutch claim of jurisdiction, refused to treat with him till he disclaimed any such pretension. The Dutch governor was not inclined to have his long journey prove fruitless on account of mere words, and dated his subsequent letters at Con- necticut, and the commissioners then agreed to confer with him. Stuyvesant commenced by complaining of the " unjust usurpation and possessing the land lying upon the river commonly called Con- necticut or the Fresh River," and of the injuries above named which had been inflicted on his countrymen, and he proposed an arrangement for the restoration of fugitives, and a repeal of the law forbidding Dutch- men to trade with Indians within the colonies. The colonial com- missioners, however, maintained their title to the lands as derived from " patent, purchase, and possession," and ignored all other matters till the question of territory should be settled. The Dutch governor, finding the commissioners firm, proposed to submit the matter in dispute to arbi- tration, and after some discussion the proposition was accepted. Simon Bradstreet of Massachusetts and Thomas Prince of Plymouth were appointed arbitrators on the part of the colonies, and Thomas Millctt and George Baxter, English residents at New Amsterdam, on the part of the Dutch. Stuyvesant was liberal, and by appointing two English- men as arbitrators on his part showed that he was prepared to make concessions. The arbitrators were not long in arriving at a settlement, which, as might be expected, was altogether favorable to the English claims. The boundary line was to begin on the west side of Green- wich Bay, and thence to run northerly, but not to come within ten miles of the Hudson; and it was agreed that the Dutch should not build any house or habitation within six miles of the said line. The planters at Greenwich, however, were to remain for the present under the government of the Dutch, and the Dutch were to hold and enjoy all the lands in Hartford that they were actually possessed of, and all the re- mainder of the lands on the Connecticut River were to belong to the Eng- lish. The award also assigned to the English the greater part of Long Island. A SUSPECTED DUTCH PLOT. When the result of the arbitration became known at New Amster- dam the wrath of the Dutch was great, and loud complaints were made against Stuyvesant. But the governor was wiser than the complainants. lie had seen how the English settlers at Hartford outnumbered the Dutch, and he had learned something of the strength of the United Colonies, while he could have no doubt as to their temper. He had adopted a discreet course, and postponed the da}' when the English should overthrow Dutch rule even in New Amsterdam itself. But the New Haven and Connecticut colonies were not altogether satisfied with the award so favorable to them. The people did not like the Dutch, and they took no pains to conceal their dislike, but on the contrary took pleasure in manifesting it, especially when at last war broke out between the mother countries. They made preparations for " defence " against the Dutch, but really wished to commence an offen- sive war against New Amsterdam. At this stage of affairs a report got abroad that the Dutch were plotting with the Mohawks and Nyantics to make war upon the Eng- lish. Whether the report originated with the crafty Uncas or not, he took pains to confirm it by some plausible representations which were readily believed by the government and people of the Connecticut col- onies. Ninigret, sachem of the Nyantics, had been to New Amsterdam, and this was believed to be certain evidence of the existence of the plot. The commissioners were convened to take measures to defeat it. The sachems of the Narragansetts and Nyantics were called upon to give their testimony concerning the plot; but they denied all knowl- edge of it, and Ninigret declared that his visit to New Amsterdam was made for the purpose of being " cured and healed " of some disease. The commissioners, however, were not convinced, but believed that a hostile feeling towards the English had been aroused among the In- dians " for divers hundreds of miles' circuit," and that the Dutch were responsible for it. The government and elders of Massachusetts, being called into council, were not so ready to put faith in the representations of Uncas, and " did not understand they were called to make a present war with the Dutch." New Haven and Hartford were indignant, and dissensions arose between the colonies which threatened to end the 342 THE CONNECTICUT COLONISTS. confederacy. The Connecticut colonies proposed to go to war alone if they could obtain volunteers and vessels in Massachusetts; but Mas- sachusetts could not assent to that. The firmness of this colony pre- vented the war, and the others were compelled at last to acquiesce in her decision or recede from a confederation which was of more impor- tance to them than to her. Not succeeding in inaugurating a war against the Dutch, the Con- necticut colonies directed their animosity against the Nyantics. An assault was reported to have been committed on some Long Island In- dians who were friendly to the English, and the commissioners, who had a sharp look-out in Indian affairs, summoned the Narragansett and Nyantic sachems to come to Boston and " clear themselves, or render a reason for their hostile invasion." Ninigret, the Nyantic chief, was haughty and independent. He did not treat the messengers sent to summon him with much courtesy, and told them " his heart was not willing to come to the Bay." The commissioners thereupon voted that they " conceived themselves called by God to make a present war against Ninigret, the Nyantic sachem." The Massachusetts commissioners did not assent to this vote, and the calmer judgment of the Massachusetts magistrates again opposed the warlike spirit of the Connecticut colonies. This action rekindled the flame of dissension in the confederacy. The commissioners of the three smaller colonies, Plymouth, Hartford, and New Haven, united in resentment towards their cooler and more peaceful confederate. Their voice was "still for war," and they passed a resolve that Massachusetts had actually broken her covenant. A long controversy followed be- tween the Massachusetts colony and the others. In the mean time peace was maintained with both the Dutch and the Indians, and no further evidence appeared that there was ever any such plot as the Connecticut people had conjured up to scare themselves with. Ninigret, however, apparently taking advantage of the colonial dis- sension, had committed some depredations, and refused to pay tribute on account of some Pequot captives who had been assigned to him. He was summoned to answer for his offences, but he refused to come to Hartford, or to send his representatives, or to give any satisfaction. Here was cause for warlike preparation, and though the Massachusetts NE W HA YEN BENT ON WAR. 343 authorities regarded his action as indicating ill temper rather than any hostile design, they united with the other colonies in a vote to send twenty horsemen and forty foot-soldiers to compel his better behavior. Simon Willard, of Massachusetts, was made commander-in-chief of this army, and he marched the quota of his colony to the western shore of Narragansett Bay, where Ninigret usually resided. That sachem, how- ever, did not await his coming, but retired into a great swamp, some fifteen miles away, and Willard deferred a pursuit until the troops from Connecticut and New Haven should arrive. When those troops did arrive an advance was made towards Ninigret's retreat, and two cap- tains were sent to confer with him. They found the sachem apparently in great alarm, but for all his fears he would not agree to the de- mands which had been made upon him. He promised to surrender the Pequot captives, and was glad to be rid of them, but he would not agree to pay any tribute. Ninigret was in a place where cavalry was of no use, and foot-soldiers could accomplish little, and it was found that the season was unsuitable for further operations. So the " army " marched away again, with the sachem's promise to surrender the Pe- quots rather than pay for them, as the grand result of the campaign. After an absence of fifteen days Willard was back in Boston. The belligerent Connecticut colonists were sorely indignant, but the Massa- chusetts government believed that intimidation was better than battle, and thanked the troops for their cheerful and ready service. The New Haven colony was resolved on war with the Dutch of New Netherlands. The thrifty merchants were not slow to see the advantages for trade which Manhadoes, or Manhattan, possessed, and they did not consider that the tenth commandment applied to this case. As Englishmen, they believed that all the country at least from the French settlements in Acadie to the Spanish in Florida belonged to England. The Dutch were simply interlopers and trespassers, who ought to be driven out, that the rightful owners might come in; they were, moreover, a set of heretics, whose only god was trade, and they ought to give place to the saints. Failing, through the opposition of Massachusetts, to secure active hostilities by the United Colonies against New Netherlands, the New Haven people determined to seek aid else- where. The Connecticut colony had but little less aversion to the 344 THE CONNECTICUT COLONISTS. Dutch than its sister colony, and the two joined in soliciting the in- fluence of leading men in England in favor of an expedition against the Dutch settlements in America, and even made application to the Protector himself. After a time their efforts were crowned with suc- cess, and the belligerent colonists were thrown into a state of joyous excitement by the intelligence of the arrival of an expedition at Boston intended to operate against New Netherlands. This expedition was to co-operate with the colonies in the proposed attack, and the question of furnishing their respective quotas was speedily brought before the colonial governments. New Haven at once sent messengers to Boston to congratulate the commander, and to assure him that the colony would " afford their best assistance, both in men and provisions." The messengers were further instructed to declare that if Massachusetts should refuse or delay to join the expedition, or even if all the other colonies declined, the people of New Haven alone " would improve the utmost of their ability to manifest their due sub- mission to the authority of England, and readiness to a service wherein all New England at least the western colonies were so much con- cerned." Massachusetts did delay, and refused to raise any auxiliary force for the expedition, but gave consent for the English officers to enroll five hundred volunteers, if they could find so many. New Haven, however, was all astir with preparations for the war. Frequent trainings were ordered; an embargo was laid on provisions; shoemakers, ar- morers, and bakers were set at.jyork; relays of horses were provided for the conveyance of orders or the reports of victory; and finally the court raised a force of one hundred and thirty-three men, and seized vessels for transports. The Connecticut colony manifested a like readiness to join in the expedition, and promptly offered to furnish its proportion of a force of fifteen hundred men. In case Massachusetts refused to take part in the enterprise, and it should be determined to prosecute it, the messengers of Connecticut were authorized to pledge the colony for the supply of four or five hundred men. Hartford, however, was not quite so busy as New Haven with the preparations for war, and waited to learn exactly what was expected of her before raising her forces and preparing their rations. The latter colony, having raised its little army, and provided AN UNWELCOME PEACE. 345 supplies, appointed a day of " fasting and prayer for a blessing upon the enterprise abroad, and for the safety of the plantations at home." But the belligerent colonists were doomed to disappointment, and anxious wives and mothers were relieved from their forebodings. Before the day appointed for the fast arrived, a messenger came dashing into town bearing a proclamation announcing that peace had been concluded between the parent countries. Great was the disgust of the colonial magnates when they thus learned that all their patriotic preparations were for nought, and that their animosity towards the Dutch could not be gratified. The officers and young men, who had anticipated a bril- liant campaign and a large share of glory, were indignant that the news should have crossed the ocean before they had won their victory over the Dutch trespassers. But the hearts of the women were filled with joy, in the assurance that their husbands and sons were not going to seek " the bubble reputation even in the cannon's mouth." When the rumor of peace reached New Amsterdam, the Dutch gov- ernor, who had been greatly alarmed at the warlike preparations of his neighbors, sent a messenger with all haste to New Haven to inquire whether it was true. The disappointed governor of New Haven had no choice but to admit the fact, and despatched a copy of the proclamation to his Dutch excellency, to his great joy and relief. NO. ix. 44 XLI. ELIOT, THE APOSTLE TO THE INDIANS. MAYHEW. OTWITHSTANDING the warlike attitude of the Con- necticut colonists towards certain tribes of Indians, the relations of the New England settlers with the natives about them were not altogether hostile. When they came to America they were very solicitous for the conversion of the savages, but they soon became convinced that it would be no easy matter to make Christians out of the stupid and sensual barbarians with whom they came in contact. At first they were so engrossed in providing for their own welfare, that they could make no systematic effort to convert the In- dians, and in the mean time they learned of what unpromising mate- rials they must make their converts. But they did not become indifferent to the religious condition of the Indians about them, and used such opportunities as offered for their instruction. The Plymouth people undertook to teach such of the natives as visited them, and were highly pleased with the impression they made on Squanto and Hobomok. It was a great satisfaction to them that Squanto, when about to die, asked Governor Bradford to pray that he might go to the Englishman's heaven. The Puritans of Massachusetts also instructed such Indians as were disposed to receive instruction in religious matters, and some of the younger and more docile natives, who were taken into English families as servants, showed no little interest in religious services. But not a few of them, from their propensities 34 6 THE BIBLE IN THE INDIAN LANGUAGE. 347 for mischief and deviltry, were regarded as "children of Satan." The older Indians were not generally disposed to forsake their okies, or to abandon the incantations of their powows, medicine-men, or priests, for the less noisy and exciting performance of a minister's sermon. The colonists, however, met with sufficient success to encourage them in the belief that the natives had some capacity for the reception of the Chris- tian religion. The General Court of Massachusetts, therefore, ordered that two ministers should be chosen annually by the elders to go and preach to the Indians by means of interpreters. But there was one man in Massachusetts who had already determined upon a more direct and effective way of reaching the understandings of these heathen, and who sought with no less zeal than that displayed by the French Jesuits in Canada, but with more simple forms and a purer faith, to save their souls. John Eliot, the teacher of the church in Rox- bury, a man eminent for his piety and his acquirements, early determined to master the uncouth Indian language, in order that he might teach the natives. Finding a bright young Indian, who had been a servant in the house of one of the settlers, " who pretty well understood his own lan- guage, and had a clear pronunciation," he took him into his family, and, with the aid of this young teacher, he applied himself to learning the limited vocabulary of the natives. This accomplished, he constructed a grammar, and studied a method of expressing abstract ideas 'with a language that contained little more than the names of natural objects known to savages, and "words signifying acts common in savage life. He first translated the Lord's Prayer and the Decalogue, and then, by long and laborious application, accomplished the wonderful work of translating the Bible, and having it printed at Cambridge, where the first printing-press was set up in America. While engaged on this great labor he was already earning his title of " Apostle " to the Indians. He preached to them for the first time at Nonantum, whither he went, with three others, at the request of some of the Indians, to teach them. The visitors were met by five or six natives, and conducted to a large wigwam, where they found " many more Indians, men, women, children, gathered together from all quarters round about." In this primitive "meeting-house," and before such a novel congregation, religious services were conducted by the ministers, 348 ELIOT, THE APOSTLE TO THE INDIANS. one of whom made a prayer in English, and Eliot then preached a ser- mon in the Indian language. For an hour and a quarter the preacher held the attention of his barbarous hearers, and Eliot's companions were delighted with the apparent success of his effort. He had already so mas- tered the language that all the Indians declared they understood him. The natives manifested much curiosity about some of the things told them, and proposed not a few childish questions for the grave ministers to answer. After a stay of three hours, Eliot and his friends, " having given the children some apples, and the men some tobacco, and what else they then had at hand," took leave of the little congregation, and returned to Boston. This was near the end of October; and before winter three more visits were made to the same place, and Eliot preached to increased numbers of the Indians, who received his instruction with respectful attention and apparent interest. These " hopeful beginnings " increased the interest in the conversion of the natives, and, as soon as the severe weather of winter was past, the missionary labors were resumed with great zeal. Many of the clergy and magistrates from time to time went out to Nonantum to hear Eliot hold forth to his Indian congregation, and, seeing the interest manifested by them, they were ready to believe that " these poor natives, the dregs of mankind, and the saddest spectacles of misery of mere men upon earth," w r ere not wholly incapable of receiving instruction, but were only a " degenerate " race, and might yet be taught to know the sublime truths of Christianity. When summer came, Eliot no longer preached in the crowded cabin, but under the spreading branches of an ancient oak assembled his tawny hearers; and there he taught them, as they sat upon the ground about him, explaining in their own language, and by illustrations from nature after their own manner, the difficulties which their ignorance could not master. Nor did he now confine himself to preaching and catechising them at stated times, but he devoted himself exclusively to their spiritual welfare. He travelled among them far and near, entering their cabins and sharing their meagre fare, ministering to the sick, and imparting instruction, as occasion offered. While most of the Indians received him with kindness, he was vio- lently opposed by the sachems and powows, or priests, who were appre- HIS ZEALOUS AND WISE LABORS. 349 hensive of losing their authority by the introduction of a new religion. When alone in the wilderness, they threatened him with captivity, tor- ture, and death, if he did not desist from his efforts to convert their people. But no danger alarmed him, and he boldly defied his opponents. With a body inured to hardship and fatigue, and a mind not to be turned from its purpose, he went from place to place, carrying "light to the children of darkness." His zeal prompted him to brave all dangers and endure all hardships. " I have not been dry," he wrote, " night or day, from the third day of the week unto the sixth; but so travel, and at night pull off my boots, wring my stockings, and on with them again, and so continue." He made a missionary tour every fortnight, and visited all the Indians in the Massachusetts and Plymouth col- onies, extending his journey to Cape Cod. Eliot was no visionary, and did not trust to a supernatural power to give success to his preaching. He was early convinced that, to insure success, it was necessary to introduce with Christianity the arts of civil- ized life. He labored, therefore, to induce the Indians to abandon a nomadic life and hunting excursions, and to establish permanent settle- ments, and adopt agricultural pursuits and simple mechanical arts. By collecting them in villages, he could give some "schooling" to the chil- dren, with whom were his best chances of success in his work. It was no easy task to induce the savages to change their habits; but Eliot's indefatigable exertions persuaded some to adopt his plans, and by the aid of the government he at last established an Indian town at Natick. There he collected a number of Indian families, to each of which land was assigned for cultivation; a meeting-house was built, a school estab- lished, and a form of government, founded on a Bible precedent, was organized. At Natick, Eliot devoted himself with unflagging zeal and no little success to civilize and Christianize the people whom he consid- ered as his special charge. He still continued, however, his missionary labors in other directions, and through life visited, and counselled, and taught the natives in various parts of the colony, earning, by his self- denying devotion to his work, the title of " Apostle." Meanwhile he labored with unflagging zeal on his translation of the Bible into the Indian tongue, and in supervising its printing. He had the satisfaction of seeing this great work accomplished and placed in the hands of 35 MA THE W. the Indian youth, who by his labors and that of others were taught to read. On the island of Martha's Vineyard there was another earnest laborer for the conversion of the Indians. Thomas Mayhew, and his son of the same name, were among the people of Watertown who had a desire to leave the Massachusetts jurisdiction, and having obtained a grant of Martha's Vineyard, with some others settled on the island. The be- nighted condition of the natives there excited their pity, and they endeavored to instruct them in religion, and lead them into the habits of civilized life. The younger Mayhew, who was a minister, soon devoted himself wholly to this missionary work, and with great success. He learned the language of the natives, conciliated them by kindness, and persuaded them to receive the religious truths he taught. In a few years he induced nearly three hundred of the Indians formally to em- brace Christianity, and among them were some who were really converted. One of their number was especially interested in religion from the first, and, under the instruction of Mayhew, after some years became a preacher to his people. Mayhew's labors were brought to an end by his premature death. He embarked for England, with some of his converts, to obtain aid for his missionary work, but the vessel in which he sailed was never heard of afterwards. His father, though an old man, did not suffer the enter- prise to languish, but continued the work " with his best strength and skill until more than fourscore years of age." In Connecticut, efforts were also made to convert the Indians, but with indifferent success. No one there undertook the work with such zeal, devotion, and special qualifications for the task as Eliot, and the more numerous and warlike tribes of that region proved less tractable than the poor and scattered natives of Massachusetts and Plymouth. In Rhode Island, where much might have been expected of Roger Wil- liams, from his friendly relations with the Indians and his knowledge of their language, still less was accomplished. The Narragansetts and Nyantics were a proud and warlike race, and little disposed to receive instruction from the whites; and the conduct of many of the turbulent settlers there was neither exemplary nor such as to inspire the natives with respect. Instead of converting them to Christianity, they rather CHARACTER OF CONVERSIONS. 351 encouraged their barbarous propensities, and instigated them to acts of treachery and war, which were virtues, according to their savage creed. The results of Puritan efforts to convert the Indians appear meagre beside the wholesale baptism with which the French priests swept families and tribes into the Roman Catholic church. The sensuous ceremonies and symbols of the Roman church appealed forcibly to the simple and superstitious minds of the savages; and when, impressed by these ceremonies, they transferred their blind faith from their rude okies to the cross and images, the sacramental act of the priest was all that was necessary in order to count them as converts. The Puritans labored only with the abstract truths of religion and the simplest forms of wor- ship, and aimed at a real conversion of the savage nature to civilized and Christian life. If such conversions were comparatively few, they had the merit of being genuine and practical, and, so far at least, of more value than thousands of merely formal professions, or symbolical rites which were symbolical only to him who performed them. The converted natives were known as " praying Indians," and were treated with rather more respect and confidence by the whites than were their unconverted brethren. But not all those who were known as praying Indians continued very saintly, and during King Philip's war, while most of them were friendly, and faithful to their promises, with some their savage nature was too strong for the newly-received gospel of peace, and with acts of treachery they joined the hostile tribes. XLII. PERSECUTION OF QUAKERS. |N 1656, Governor Endicot and the magistrates and minis- ters of Massachusetts were thrown into a state of alarm and resentment. A new sect, called by themselves " Friends," and by their opponents " Quakers," had ap- peared in England, under the lead of George Fox. While promulgating some excellent principles, they were fanatical and extravagant. They were opposed alike to the established church and to Independents. They de- nounced " steeple-houses " and ministers, courts and judges. They created discord and provoked riots. They brought upon themselves persecution and punishment, and by their martyrdom multiplied their proselytes. They so increased in numbers and in their fanatical efforts at proselytism, and caused so much disturbance, that they became a serious source of trouble to the government. They had carried their new doctrines all over Europe, even to the Vatican itself, and now, at last, some of the preachers of this strange creed had come to New England as " seducers and false prophets." The Puritans regarded the country which they had settled as their own special domain, from which they had a right to drive all obnox- ious persons; their religion, which they had crossed the sea to enjoy undisturbed, they considered it their duty to protect against all heretical assaults. They had hitherto acted on these principles, and decreed ban- ishment and death to those who opposed their religious doctrines and their system of government. The reports from England, and some of 35 2 ENDICOT, BELLINGHAM, AND NORTON CONFER. 353 the Quaker books which had been brought over, satisfied them that here was a heresy more dangerous and deadly than any they had before encountered, and they were determined, if it should appear within their jurisdiction, that it should be crushed out. Endicot, the sternest of Puritans, and a man of vehement character, was governor, and Bellingham, a man of greater capacity but scarcely less severe, and more imperious in temper, was deputy governor. They were the recognized leaders of the colony, and the guardians of its civil and religious interests, and from the Puritan point of view they were the men for the times. When it was announced that a vessel had arrived at Boston, from Barbadoes, bringing two women of this new and dangerous sect, Endicot speedily summoned Bellingham and the Rev. John Norton, teacher of the church in Boston and the leading minister of Massachusetts, to consult upon what should be done. Nor- ton was a man of great ability, but of a melancholy temperament, which made his religion more rigid and gloomy than that of his most austere brethren. His mind dwelt upon the denunciations of the Prophets and the terrors of the Apocalypse. With him all heresy was accursed, and its teachers worthy of the severest punishment; and the Quakers were the most blasphemous of heretics. The three stern Puritans were not long in determining what ought to be done with these two women of the hated sect. Norton set forth in gloomiest colors the evils that would result if they were allowed to promulgate their pestilent heresies, and called upon the civil govern- ment to exercise its authority for the protection of religion. Endicot and Bellingham needed no urging; they were as ready to act as Norton was to advise. Several of the magistrates were summoned, that meas- ures might be adopted with due authority, and these assented to the necessity of prompt action. An order was forthwith issued to arrest the two women, and confine them in jail until they could be carried back to the place whence they came; and the master of the vessel was ordered to give bonds to carry them back. Scarcely had the presumed offenders stepped on shore when they were met by the constable, who led them away to jail, and the indignant sea-captain was bound, in spite of his protests, to carry his dangerous passengers out of the jurisdiction of Massachusetts. NO. ix. 45 354 PERSECUTION OF QUAKERS. Nor was this all that was done to save the good people from the evils threatened by these two disciples of George Fox. They had some books and tracts, supposed to contain the heresies and blasphemies of the Quakers. These were seized and ordered to be burned. In the open space before the " meeting-house," where stood the stocks and pillory, the public functionary who performed the service of whipping culprits, putting them in the stocks, and hanging, with due solemnity made a small pile of fagots, while the people of all ages gathered around at a respectful distance, wondering what might be the meaning of this unusual proceeding. The fagots were lighted, and the constable deliv- ered to the executioner a few books and papers which were condemned to be ignominiously destroyed. Proclaiming the doom of these wicked books, as ordered by the worthy magistrates, the executioner threw them into the flames, and made sure that they were reduced to ashes. Norton and the more austere Puritans doubtless indulged in devout thanksgiving that these pestilent seeds had been utterly destroyed. Were there none in the crowd of spectators of that solemn farce who felt how vain was the destruction of these inanimate objects, whose living spirit had already taken possession of the hearts of multitudes? The two unfortunate Quaker women remained in jail a month, unable to preach their heresies, or to indulge in vituperation within hearing of anybody but the jailer. The vessel in which they came being then ready to sail, they were released from their confinement and placed on board, and the magistrates and ministers breathed more freely. But these obnoxious visitors were scarcely out of sight of land when another vessel arrived bringing from England eight others of the same dreaded sect, four men and four women. What would be the result if this band of fanatics were let loose in the colony! The magistrates had no idea of trying the experiment, and as soon as it was known that such dangerous persons were on board the newly-arrived ship, officers prompt- ly arrested them before they landed, and led them away to jail. These new-comers were missionaries of the true fanatical type, who had preached and been persecuted in England, and were proficients in the extravagant and opprobrious language which had provoked riot and bloodshed there. They were brought before the magistrates for exam- ination, and when they let loose their tongues the examiners were over- MART PRINCE MEETS THE MINISTERS. 355 whelmed with a torrent of abuse in which the language of Billingsgate was translated into words and phrases from scripture. The magistrates were of course provoked to anger, as well as aroused still more to the dangers from these blasphemers, and the offenders were promptly or- dered to be sent back to England, and meantime to lie in jail till the vessel which brought them was ready to sail; and the master was required to give bonds to carry them away. But though their anticipated career in Boston was thus summarily suppressed, one at least of the Quakers, Mary Prince, was determined that her voice should be heard, and when Governor Endicot was walk- ing home from the church on Sunday, in state, accompanied by min- ister Norton, as he passed near the jail he was addressed in a shrill voice by this woman from one of the windows. She denounced him and the magistrates in the vituperative language in which most of the sect indulged towards rulers and clergy. The people walking quietly homeward behind the governor were scandalized, and the stern Endicot gave orders to have her silenced, and went his way. But Norton had a desire to meet this fanatical heretic, and with his magazine of reli- gious weapons, in the shape of scriptural quotations and arguments, to silence if not to convince her. He advised the governor to have her brought to his house, where, with one of his brother teachers, he might labor for her conversion. Endicot, always ready to comply with the advice of the devout minister, accordingly gave the necessary orders. In the governor's comfortable and well-furnished house we can imagine that Endicot and Bellingham, with two or three of the magis- trates, and Norton with another minister, awaited the appointed inter- view with the Quaker woman. The melancholy and austere Norton was filled with forebodings, " A vision of sin more awful and appalling Than any phantasm, ghost, or apparition, As arguing and portending some enlargement Of the mysterious Power of Darkness ! " While the minister indulged such gloomy thoughts the constable ushered in the prisoner. She was by no means abashed by the dignified and solemn company, and when the governor bade her be seated, and told 356 PERSECUTION OF QUAKERS. her that she had been summoned to meet and converse with two of the most excellent ministers of the gospel, her tongue was immediately loosed, and she stigmatized those worthies as " hirelings, Baals, and seed of the serpent." Norton and his brother minister in vain put questions and quoted scripture in reply to her denunciations; she was proof against all their inquisition and all their arguments. To them her language was blasphemous, and they were only the more impressed with the wicked- ness of this heretical sect. She was sent back to the jail feeling she had got the best of the controversy, and rejoicing that she had had the opportunity to assail these " priests." Norton, magnifying the evils which \vould result if such " blaspheming heretics " were let loose in the col- ony, reminded the governor and magistrates of their duty to protect religion from these assaults of the enemy, bidding them "Not neglect The holy tactics of the civil sword." The Puritan magnates were by no means disposed to disregard his injunctions. They had seen the discomfiture of their clergy in this contest with one of the fanatics, and they were convinced that " All blasphemies immediate And heresies turbulent must be suppressed By civil power," and they then determined that to that end the civil power should be fully exercised as occasion required. This party of Quakers remained in jail eleven weeks before the vessel that was to carry them back to England was ready to sail. Meanwhile the irrepressible Gorton, who, though not a Quaker, was ready to do anything to annoy the magistrates of Massachusetts, secretly offered to intercept the ship and take them to Narragansett Bay. But this scheme was frustrated by the magistrates. While the Quakers were yet in the Boston jail, the commissioners of the United Colonies met and proposed to the several General Courts " that all Quakers, Ranters, and other notorious heretics should be pro- hibited coming into the United Colonies, and if any should hereafter come or arise, that they should be forthwith secured or removed out of MASSACHUSETTS LAWS AGAINST QUAKERS. 357 all the jurisdictions." The several colonies did not fail to act on this recommendation. Connecticut, New Haven, and Plymouth imposed heavy fines on every town that should entertain such heretics, ordered them to be confined till they could be sent away, and compelled the masters of vessels who brought the intruders to carry them away again. The General Court of Massachusetts took hold of the matter more seriously, and under the lead of Endicot and Bellingham, who were prompted by Norton, passed laws which were gradually increased in severity till the public sense of justice was outraged. One fine October morning, the roll of the drum called all the good people within hearing to the front of the meeting-house in Boston, where a herald or crier proclaimed the laws which the General Court had enacted against the " cursed sect of heretics lately risen up in the world, which are commonly called Quakers." The laws provided that ship- masters who should bring Quakers into the jurisdiction should pay a fine of one hundred pounds, and give security for the transportation of such passengers back to the port from which they came; that Quakers coming into the colony should be forthwith committed to the house of correction, and at their entrance should be severely whipped, and there- after kept constantly at work, and no one should be suffered to converse with them during the time of their imprisonment; that whoever im- ported, circulated, or concealed Quaker books should incur a fine of five pounds; that persons presuming to defend the heretical opinions of the Quakers should be punished, for the first offence, by a fine of two pounds, for a second by a fine of four pounds, and for a third by im- prisonment in the house of correction till they could be sent out of the colony; and finally that "what person or persons soever should revile the office or person of magistrates or ministers, as was usual with the Quakers, such person or persons should be severely whipped, or pay the sum of five pounds." This unusual manner of promulgating laws, as was intended, brought them to the notice of all the people, and created no little stir, and a variety of sentiment, if not of expression. The devout church-member rejoiced that the court had taken this dangerous heresy in hand; the merchant calculated his chances of being required to become bondsman for some shipmaster who might bring with his merchandise an unwel- 358 PERSECUTION OF QUAKERS. come passenger; and people of more liberal tendencies than the Puritan leaders saw the dangers which might threaten their indiscreet benev- olence or utterances. Old Nicholas Upsall, a worthy citizen, who was no Quaker, but was in the habit of thinking for himself, could not restrain his disapproval of the laws, and openly condemned the magis- trates for the spirit of persecution which they manifested. There were not wanting those who, from malice or excess of respect for the laws, reported Upsall's language to the magistrates, and he was brought before the court and sentenced to pay a fine of twenty pounds, and to depart the jurisdiction within a month, not to return under penalty of imprison- ment. This punishment seems to have been at the discretion of the court, for it exceeded that provided by the law which Upsall had de- nounced. Upsall left the colony, but after two or three years' absence returned, and was imprisoned. The Quakers evidently courted martyrdom. When the attitude of New England towards them was known in England, they began to come over, "to warn these persecutors to desist from their iniquity." First came two women of the sect, one of them the wife of the secretary of Rhode Island. The latter was delivered to her husband to be con- ducted home, and the other was sent back to London. Mary Clarke, who came soon after with a more vituperative tongue, was whipped and sent away. Two of the party who had been sent back to England again made their appearance, and shocked the good people of Salem by interrupting the services at church. They were arrested, whipped, and imprisoned; and an unfortunate couple, for harboring them, were also put in jail. Another soon appeared, to cry out against persecution, and he, too, was whipped and imprisoned. It now appeared that a number of this " accursed and pernicious sect of heretics " had come from London to New Amsterdam, and were finding their way into New England. Such men as Norton demanded that the laws be made more stringent, and the General Court complied. The fine for harboring Quakers was increased to forty shillings for every hour, and it was provided that every Quaker coming into the jurisdiction after having been once punished should, for the first offence, have one ear cut off; for the second offence, should have the other cut off; and for the third, should have the tongue bored through with a hot iron. STRINGENT LAWS RECOMMENDED. 359 These punishments, it may be observed, were no inventions of the Pu- ritans, but were at that period well known and too often inflicted in the mother country. Three of the fanatics who persisted in martyrdom were each punished by the loss of one ear. The persistence of these people was alarming, and Endicot, Belling- ham, Norton, and others took counsel together for further measures against them. The Federal Commissioners being in session at Boston, the matter was again brought before them. Endicot was one of the commissioners, and their president; and the influence of Norton and Bellingham, by reason of their position and ability, was very great. With a preamble reciting the wicked actions of the Quakers, and the evils which must result from the spread of their " pernicious and devil- ish opinions," the commissioners recommended to the several colonial governments " to make a law that all such Quakers formerly convicted and punished as such shall, if they return again, be imprisoned and forth- with banished or expelled out of the said jurisdiction under pain of death; and if afterwards they presume to come again into that jurisdic- tion, then to be put to death as presumptuously incorrigible, unless they shall plainly and publicly renounce their cursed opinions:" and that those coming for the first time, upon conviction, be banished, under pain of severe corporal punishment; "and if they return again, then to be punished accordingly and banished under pain of death; and if after- wards they shall yet presume to come again, then to be put to death as aforesaid, except they do then and there plainly and publicly renounce their said cursed opinions and devilish tenets." Massachusetts alone complied with the letter of this recommenda- tion. It originated with men of that colony, and doubtless with Norton and Bellingham. Under the influence of such men, a number of the leading citizens of Boston petitioned for more stringent measures of pro- tection against the Quakers. Banishment upon pain of death had been resorted to in a number of previous instances, and those against whom such sentence had been passed had in each case remained beyond the jurisdiction of the colony. It was, without doubt, supposed that the penalty would be equally effectual in keeping the Quakers away. The magistrates without hesitation passed a law such as the Federal Com- missioners proposed, but the deputies were not so ready to adopt such 360 PERSECUTION OF QUAKERS. extreme measures. The law was warmly contested, and at last passed by a majority of only one vote. It provided that thereafter persons con- victed by a jury as being Quakers should be sentenced to banishment under pain of death. But there was such a strong public sentiment against so extreme a penalty, that Norton, who was the ablest as well as the most vehement advocate of the law, was requested to draw up a dec- laration to show " the evil of the tenets of the Quakers, and danger of their practices." It was not long before there was occasion to put the severe law in force. At first six Quakers were banished, with the threat of death if they returned, and, not being of the stuff of which martyrs are made, they did not see fit to return and run so great a risk. But such was not the character of many of the sect, and when the law became known abroad, some of the fanatics made haste to come to Boston, to lay down their lives. Four of these among them Mary Dyer, the wife of the secre- tary of Rhode Island, who had before been carried away by her hus- band made their appearance about the same time in Boston, and com- menced their offensive practices. They were arrested and tried, and sentenced to be banished; and the court seems to have construed the law to suit the case by adding, that the offenders should suffer death unless they withdrew from the jurisdiction. Mary Dyer and one other concluded to depart; but the other two Stevenson and Robinson were bold enough to remain, and "try the bloody law unto death." They wandered northward for a short time, and then made their appear- ance in Salem, where they were joined by some friends and proceeded to Boston, one of the Salem women carrying with her some linen, as she said, "for the winding-sheets of those who were to suffer." Mary Dyer, too, repenting her weakness, returned about the same time. They were all brought again before the court, and fearlessly avowing them- selves to be the persons recently banished, they were sentenced to.be hanged. When this sentence was announced, there was not a little excitement among the staid people of Boston. While some, upholding the majesty of the law, approved the firmness of the court, there were many who more strongly condemned the severity of the punishment as unnecessary and cruel. So dee.ply were the people moved that the magistrates feared AN EXECUTION ON BOSTON COMMON. 361 an outbreak and the liberation of the prisoners. The selectmen of Bos- ton were required " to press ten or twelve able and faithful persons every night," to guard the prison; and a strong body of military, provided " with powder and bullet," were ordered to be in readiness on the day of execution, which followed eight days after the condemnation. On the appointed day, the inhabitants of Boston and the neighboring towns, young and old, left their usual occupations, and thronged about the jail and along the roadway leading to the place of execution. On Boston Common the fatal gallows had been erected, and there, too, the people gathered, looking with awe, or indignation, or shame, upon the preparations for the final act in this unhappy drama. A company of soldiers was distributed at various points to preserve order, and check any disposition towards a popular outbreak, while around the jail stood a hundred more, with pike and musket, to guard the prisoners and lead them to their fate. At last the three condemned Quakers are led forth from the prison, and the solemn procession takes its way to the Common. A strong body of soldiers leads the column and guards them on either side and in the rear, while they walk hand in hand, Mary Dyer between the other two, with firm step and the exalted spirit of martyrs. While there are not wanting those who hoot and jeer the victims, a murmur runs through the crowd of spectators as they pass: a murmur which means, with some, abhorrence of heresy, with others pity for the condemned, and with still others indignation at the cruel law. The people follow closely, and when the procession reaches the gallows, few are left in the town for the sentinels to watch. Without quailing, the victims behold the instru- ment of death, and without a tremor submit their necks to the hang- man's busy hands. They stand each with a halter about their necks, and presently the two men are launched into eternity, but Mary Dyer still stands unharmed. A shudder of horror is quickly followed by an exclamation of astonishment among the spectators, and happily that is succeeded by a sense of relief that one of the intended victims is spared. The magistrates of Massachusetts had indulged in a bit of melo- dramatic artifice. Mary Dyer's son had come from Rhode Island to intercede for his mother, and while they had listened to his application, NO. X. 46 362 PERSECUTION OF QUAKERS. they gave no sign to the victim, if indeed they did to the applicant, that the prayer would be granted. They thought that by taking the offender to the verge of death, placing her upon the scaffold with a halter round her neck, and executing the extreme penalty upon her companions at her side, she might be so terrified by her position, and so thankful for her narrow escape, that she would abjure her heresy, or certainly never more trouble the people of Massachusetts. Not exactly satisfied with herself for so doing, Mary Dyer accepted her chance of escape, and consented to depart with her son. But she regretted that her martyrdom was not complete, and in the following spring, in a more exalted state of mind, she returned to Boston, and again braved the terrors of the law by denouncing it and its framers. She was again brought before the court, and once more condemned to death. Again the people thronged to the Common, some jeering and some murmuring as before. When the halter was placed around her neck, the offer was made to release her yet once more if she would promise henceforth to keep out of Massachusetts. But she now had the full courage of a martyr, and refused the offer, saying, " In obedience to the will of the Lord I came, and in his will I abide faithful to the death." The hangman performed his office, and the people withdrew from the sad scene with increasing dissatisfaction with the persecution which the government had inaugurated. But in spite of the manifestations of popular disapproval, the gal- lows soon found another victim among the Quakers. William Leddra had been imprisoned for creating a disturbance in Salem, and had been repeatedly whipped for his obstinate refusal to work while in confine- ment. At last he was banished, under penalty of death if he returned. The threat did not deter him, and he again found himself in prison. At his trial the popular sentiment influenced the magistrates so far as to induce them to offer him his liberty if he would go to England and not return. He would not accept the conditions, and was condemned and executed. Meanwhile there had been many Quakers on their first visit to the country, and some sympathizers among the people, who were impris- oned and whipped. Some of these offenders made themselves extremely obnoxious, and committed offences against decency as well as the reli- GOVERNOR ENDICOT'S ZEAL. 363 gious opinions of the Puritans. Two women, in their zeal to give a sign of the spiritual nakedness of the people, went naked through the streets and into public assemblies. Another, with her face blackened, appeared in church as a sign of the blackness of the sins of the con- gregation. One man went into the meeting-house in Boston with two bottles which he dashed upon the floor before the people, crying, " Thus will the Lord break you in pieces!" They denounced the magistrates as guilty of bloodshed, and proclaimed through the streets that the Lord was coming with fire and sword to plead with them. Such maniacs and disturbers of the peace might well be confined, but the penalties inflicted beyond confinement were cruel and useless, and among the people who were not over-zealous Puritans were more and more dis- approved. In spite of the murmurings of the people, however, those in authority seemed determined to execute the law they had framed, and to stamp out the heresy which they deemed so dangerous. If Governor Endicot, moved by pity, had any misgivings as to his course, his stern sense of duty to the colony, to the magistracy, and to religion overruled them. At his elbow, too, stood an outward conscience in the shape of Minister Norton, who would not permit him to falter, but with stern arguments and potent texts, bade him go on: "The hand that cut The Red Cross from the colors of the king Can cut the red heart from this heresy. The Book of Deuteronomy declares That if thy son, thy daughter, or thy wife, Ay, or the friend which is as thine own soul, Entice thee secretly, and say to thee, Let us serve other gods, then shall thine eye Not pity him, but thou shalt surely kill him, And thine own hand shall be the first upon him To slay him." The governor's zeal was manifested with no little violence at the trial, which resulted in condemnation to death for the last time against 364 PERSECUTION' OF QUAKERS. the Quakers. Wenlock Christison, who had been banished, suddenly appeared in court at Leddra's trial, saying, " I come here to warn you that ye shed no more innocent blood!" He was arrested and brought to trial under the law which imposed the penalty of death. But the magistrates had begun to waver; they feared the murmuring of the people, or they began to share the popular disapproval of such extreme punishment. For two weeks they deliberated on their verdict, and a majority were yet unwilling to condemn the accused to death. The governor was vexed at the delay, and what he considered their cow- ardice. " Flinging something furiously on the table, he said, ' I could find it in my heart to go home,'" meaning to England. Putting the question once more, he cried, in angry voice, " You that will not con- sent, record it! I thank God I am not afraid to give judgment!" The stern old governor's violence had its effect: a majority of the magistrates were subdued to his will, and Christison was condemned to be hanged. But the dread sentence was never executed. Public sentiment had grown so strong against it that Christison was respited, and finally was released, upon his offer to "depart this jurisdiction." When next the General Court assembled, the question of punishing the Quakers again came before it, and there was a strong opposition to inflicting the death penalty. But there was also a decided unwillingness to repeal the law, and thus acknowledge that the proceedings against the obnoxious sect had been unjustifiable. While the old law was suffered to remain nominally in force, another was passed inflicting other severe punishments, such as whipping "to the borders of the jurisdiction;" should they return after being three times driven out in this manner, they were to be branded, again severely whipped, and sent away. If they returned after this, they were then to be liable to execution under the previous law. Happily, the branding and the hanging were never incurred, even by the most persistent Quakers. . " Whipping at the cart's tail " was one of the punishments of that time, brought by the colonists from England, where it was frequently resorted to. A number of the Quakers were punished in this manner, being " stripped from the girdle upwards." Peter Peirson and Judah Brown were thus whipped, "with twenty cruel stripes, through the streets of Boston." In obedience to the sentence of the court, they H to ~H K 4 o w K h WHIPPING AT THE CART'S TAIL. 365 were tied to the cart's tail, and whipped with twenty stripes through Boston, then delivered to the constable in Roxbury, and there whipped with ten stripes, and then carried to Dedham, where, with ten more stripes, they were driven out " into the wilderness." John Chamberlain and George Wilson, inhabitants of Boston, suffered in a like manner, and the punishment " was cruelly executed, especially at the last of the three towns, where the executioner had provided a cruel instrument, with which he miserably tore their flesh." Nor was this punishment admin- istered to men only; women also were condemned to suffer the same penalty. Sarah Gibbens and Dorothy Waugh, coming back to Boston after being once sent away, " were imprisoned three days without food, and then whipped with a threefold knotted whip tearing off their flesh." Others suffered in a similar manner in various parts of the colony. Thirty-one, in all, "received six hundred and fifty stripes." The contest between the Puritan rulers and the Quakers continued for some time; but though, after the discontinuance of capital punish- ment, the actions of the Quakers for a time were more absurd and offen- sive than ever, they at last became- more rational, and, as a consequence, the zeal of the rulers became less violent. Massachusetts enjoyed the unenviable distinction of persecuting the Quakers most severely, but in Plymouth and New Haven many of the " heretical sect " were impris- oned, whipped, and banished. "The holy tactics of the civil sword" were, in all the New England colonies except Rhode Island, resorted to for the protection of religion. XLIII. THE REGICIDES, WHALLEY AND GOFFE. HE vessel which in 1660 brought to Boston intelligence of the restoration of the monarchy in England, brought also, as passengers, two men who had performed prom- inent parts in the eventful drama of civil war in the mother country. They had been distinguished officers in Cromwell's army, had proved themselves zealous in the cause of Independency and the Commonwealth, had ren- dered brilliant service in the war, and had sat in Parlia- ment. They had, moreover, been members of the High Court of Justice which had tried and condemned Charles I., and had signed the death-warrant of that monarch, receiving therefor the name of " regi- cides." These men were Edward Whalley and William Goffe, the former a cousin of Cromwell and of John Hampden, and the latter the son-in-law of Whalley. When Whalley and Goffe left England, it was uncertain what would be the fate of the regicides, but there were whisperings in the air that the promised amnesty would surely not be extended to them, and they prudently sought safety while there was yet a chance to escape. The New England colonies had taken no decided stand in the contest be- tween king and parliament, but had wisely sought only to manage their own affairs independently, as far as possible, of the mother country. They had been loyal to the monarchy if they did not love the king, and they had recognized the Protector as the head of the Commonwealth, with which, probably, a majority of the people heartily sympathized; 366 THEIR RECEPTION AT BOSTON. 367 but they had made no demonstration which could make them offensive to either party. When the monarchy was re-established, they were in a position to renew their allegiance to it as the de facto government, with- out any violent change of opinion. Massachusetts early sought to secure herself against any unfriendly action on the part of Charles II., and sent an address avowing allegiance to the new king. Connecticut soon fol- lowed the example of the older and more important colony; but Plym- outh and New Haven were more tardy, their conduct being less politic, if their sympathy with the Commonwealth was not more hearty. When the regicides arrived in Boston, they did not come as fugitives from justice, or from the new king's vengeance; and, as distinguished leaders under Cromwell, and intimate with the best friends of the colony, they were cordially welcomed by Governor Endicot and the leading men of Massachusetts. They took up their abode at Cambridge, and for some months appeared freely in public, attending church and private religious meetings, and they were everywhere received with respect, and regarded as persons of honorable distinction, being known by old and young as the "colonels." But at length news came that all the regicides, or members of the High Court of Justice, were excluded from the act of indemnity, and were to be pursued by royal vengeance. It also became known that ardent royalists had reported to the government that Whalley and Goffe were in Boston and had been received with a cordial welcome; that Governor Endicot had " embraced them, and "wished more such good men as they would come over." Governor Endicot's friendly feelings towards the regicides probably were not changed by this intelligence, but prudence dictated a change of conduct, and he treated them with coldness, and his example was generally followed by the magistrates. But the " colonels " had many friends among the leading colonists, who were ready to protect them, and they still remained in safety. Governor Endicot at length called the magistrates together, and asked their advice as to his duty to arrest the refugees. The magistrates refused to approve of arrest. Meanwhile friends were making arrangements for their de- parture, and, doubtless with the secret approval of the governor, they set out for New Haven. After a weary journey through the wilderness, they arrived at New 368 THE REGICIDES, WHALLET AND GOFFE. Haven and received a cordial welcome from Mr. Davenport, the minister of that place, who was a hearty sympathizer with them. Here for a short time they moved about without concealment, and were received with every token of respect. But they had been in New Haven scarcely three weeks when news came from Boston that a royal proclamation for their arrest had arrived. Lest their kind host should be involved in trouble if they publicly remained under his roof, they went to Milford, as if on their way to the Dutch settlement of New Amsterdam. At that place they took care to be known; but the next night they returned secretly to New Haven, where their stanch friend, Mr. Davenport, again received them into his house, and concealed them in an apartment in his cellar. Meanwhile the king, apprised that the two regicides had repeatedly been seen in Boston, sent a peremptory order to the colonial governments for their apprehension. This order came first to Governor Endicot, and, knowing that the refugees were beyond his jurisdiction, he made a show of earnestness in endeavoring to obey the order. Two young men, Kellond and Kirk, prompted as much by the hope of a liberal reward as by their ardent loyalty, sought and obtained a commission to pros- ecute the search for the fugitives in Massachusetts, and letters to the governors of the other colonies commending their undertaking. This step of the governor was strongly condemned by some of the magis- trates and deputies, who complained that he had assumed too much authority in issuing such a commission without the assent of the magistrates. But the governor doubtless thought that these strangers to the country and the habits of the people would be able to accomplish precious little. After searching a while about Boston and other towns in Massachu- setts, Kellond and Kirk came to the conclusion, or were informed, that the colonels had gone to Connecticut; and thither they hastened. At Hartford they delivered Endicot's letter to the younger Winthrop, who was then governor of the Connecticut colony. Whatever may have been Winthrop's feelings towards the regicides, he informed the mes- sengers that the colonels had some time before passed through Hartford on their way to New Haven. The pursuers, encouraged by this infor- mation that they had struck the trail of the fugitives, hastened on to the THE PURSUERS DELATED. 369 other colony. They went first to Guilford, the residence of Deputy- Governor Leete, who was the acting governor of the colony. When they presented their letters to the deputy-governor, there were several other persons present, and after seeing trie import of the papers, he com- menced reading them aloud, with the intent, doubtless, that the character of his visitors should be known. This was by no means agreeable to the messengers, who rightly conceived that secrecy was necessary to success, and they told the governor that " it was convenient to be more private in such concernments." While Leete was little disposed to aid these zealous pursuers, there were those, even in the New Haven col- ony, who were more loyal to the new king, and, as they left the deputy- governor's house, they were told that the regicides were secreted at Minister Davenport's house in New Haven, and that " Deputy Leete knew as much." More surely on the scent now, the messengers demanded of the dep- uty-governor power to search for and apprehend the fugitives; but he refused to give any such power, or to allow them to call upon others to apprehend, which would be giving them the authority of magistrates. In short, he would do nothing without consulting the magistrates at New Haven. It was Saturday afternoon, the time of preparation for the Sab- bath, and it was not to be expected that the chief magistrate should set so wicked an example as setting out on a journey at that time. The messengers then asked for horses, but he would not in that way abet the violation of civil law and Mosaic commandment. So the impatient pur- suers were obliged to stay at Guilford over Sunday, charing under their forced delay. But while it was wicked for a Christian to violate the Sabbath, it was not, perhaps, so serious an offence in an Indian; and it so happened that an Indian left Guilford that Saturday night, and sped to New Haven. Early Monday morning, the disgusted royalists sought to make an early start, but while their horses were prepared with many vexatious delays, they had the mortification to hear another horseman gallop out of the little village in the direction of New Haven. When they arrived at New Haven, they were obliged to wait for the more deliberate move- ments of the deputy-governor, whose dignity did not admit of precipitate haste on his journey. They at last were able to meet that dignitary at NO. x. 47 370 THE REGICIDES, WHALLET AND GOFFE. the state or court house, and represented to him that they had cause to believe that the regicides were concealed in the town, and they required his aid for their apprehension. The deputy-governor replied that he did not believe they were so concealed, and to their request that he would empower them to arrest the fugitives, he replied that he could not make them magistrates. Leete was evidently determined to afford them no aid in their errand, and the pursuers began to remonstrate with him, and charged him with being willing the fugitives should escape. There- upon Leete agreed to consult the magistrates, which he did so thor- oughly that " they were together five or six hours," and then they declared they could not do anything until they had called the General Court together. Completely balked in their attempts to obtain the assistance they required, the pursuers became indignant, and asked the deputy-governor " whether he would honor and obey the king or no in this affair." To which Leete replied humbly, " We honor his majesty, but we have tender consciences." The deputy-governor indeed disguised his purpose of aiding the fugitives rather than their pursuers under a semblance of simplicity or stolidity. Calling in the evening after these conferences at the little inn \vhere Kellond and Kirk lodged, he said to the disappointed royalists that "he wished he had been a plowman, and never been in office, since he found it so weighty." Disgusted with the New Haven rulers, the messengers attempted to bribe the people by the offer of large rewards, and were at a loss what next to do, when they received some false information, which induced them to set off in haste for the Dutch settlement of New Netherlands. They did not find the fugitives, but the Dutch governor promised, if the colonels came within his jurisdic- tion, they should not escape. Disappointed at the failure of their enter- prise, from which they had anticipated a great reward, Kellond and Kirk returned to Boston by water. While the zealous royalists were making their fruitless efforts to dis- cover the regicides, the latter were shielded with equal zeal by their friends. They were apprised of their danger before Kellond and Kirk left Boston, and secretly removed from Mr. Davenport's house, where it was probable the)' would first be sought, to that of William Jones, whose father had been executed as a regicide. While Deputy-Governor Leete THE JUDGES' CAVE. 37 T and the magistrates were foiling the pursuers by their long debate, the fugitives were removed to a mill two miles from New Haven, where they remained concealed two days and nights. Their movements were conducted with the greatest secrecy, for there was danger that the large reward offered might tempt some among the colonists to betray them, should their hiding-places be known. Nor was it safe, on this account, to remain long in one spot. From the mill they withdrew three miles farther from the town, to a place called " Hatchet Harbor," where they lay hid two nights more. Their friends now felt that they must have a more secure place of refuge, and one was found, somewhat nearer to New Haven than their last hiding-place, but more retired and secure against the intrusion of strangers. This was on the summit of West Rock, about half a mile from its southern extremity. Nature had here provided a retreat for them in the shape of a cave, or enclosure formed by rough columns of trap rock piled to a considerable height around a small space, within which two or three persons could find shelter and room for their beds. It was surrounded by trees, and when the apertures between the stones were closed with branches, the interior was completely hidden from the sight of any adventurous wanderer who might pass that way. While thus hidden, the inmates of this retreat could easily see any persons approaching, some distance away, and could escape by flight without being seen. Hither Whalley and GofFe came with great secrecy, and took up their abode in this comfortless but safe retreat, which has since been known as " The Judges' Cave." They were provided with bedding, and their food was furnished by Mr. Sperry, who lived about a mile away. Sperry himself generally carried the food to them, but sometimes it was sent by his son, with directions to leave it on a certain stump. The youth was naturally inquisitive as to the purpose of leaving food in this mysterious manner in the woods, and his father, who alone of the family knew the secret, told him it was for some woodcutters at work in the forest. While hiding in the cave on West Rock, Deputy-Governor Leete, who was informed of their retreat, in order to make a show of obedience to the royal proclamation, issued his warrant for a search for them in Milford. Whatever apparent cause there may have been for seeking the 372 THE REGICIDES, WH ALLEY AND GOFFE. fugitives there, it served the purpose of directing attention away from their real place of concealment. Though the New Haven rulers, and probably a large part of the people, under the influence of Mr. Davenport, were ready to protect the regicides, there were some whose loyalty to the king was too great to allow them to " aid and abet the traitors," or countenance the aid afforded by others. Minister Davenport, who had so earnestly befriended the regicides, who had preached a sermon which was supposed to be in- tended to instruct the people to harbor and defend them, and who was believed by some to still have them concealed in his house, was in dan- ger of being called to account for these offences. To relieve a friend who had served them so devotedly, from the charge of still harboring them, Whalley and Goffe left their hiding-place for a time, and appeared at New Haven and elsewhere. They then returned to their cave, and for two months more remained in concealment. Among the traditions concerning the regicides is one, that in order to relieve their friend, Mr. Davenport, from danger, they entered into negotiations with Deputy-Governor Leete, with a view to surrender themselves; and that pending the negotiations they were concealed in a cellar in Guilford, and received their food from the deputy-governor's own table. If this be true, their friends, including Leete, were more careful of their safety than they were themselves. West Rock, in those early days, was the "haunt of wild beasts;" and one night, as the judges lay at rest in their cave, they saw the blazing eyes of a panther peering in at one of the openings to their retreat. Although they had faced danger on the battle-field without trepidation, they were so alarmed by this nocturnal visitor, to resist which they had no weapons, that they fled down the mountain to Sperry's house. They then sought a less dangerous refuge, and went to Milford, where for two years they lived in complete secrecy in the house of a Mr. Tompkins. Their presence during this period was unknown to the nearest neighbors, and they were never seen even by the inmates of the house, except Tompkins. While secreted here, it is said, they heard a girl, who was one of the family, sing a famous cav- alier ballad which ridiculed and railed at the regicides. It so amused the concealed listeners that they often requested Mr. Tompkins to have THEIR FINAL RETREAT AT HADLET. 373 it sung, the singer being entirely ignorant of the interested parties for whose benefit she repeated the ludicrous but spiteful story. The lapse of two years, during which they were not seen and their existence was known only to a few faithful friends, gave time for all excitement concerning the fugitive judges to subside, and they then ventured out of their retirement, and to meet a few friends upon whose fidelity they could rely. But soon they were threatened with a new danger. Some royal commissioners had arrived at Boston, vested with ex- traordinary powers for various purposes, and it was supposed that among other duties they would be charged to make a new and more thorough search for the regicides. Leaving Milford, they again withdrew to the cave on West Rock; but the Indians had discovered that it had been occupied, and it was no longer a safe retreat. To remain in Con- necticut, where it was known they had been so long harbored, was to run the risk of capture, and to endanger the safety of the friends who had served them so faithfully. Far up the Connecticut valley a settle- ment had been made at Hadley, in Massachusetts, the most remote frontier of the colony. Thither it was deemed prudent for the out- lawed men to go, and, bidding their friends farewell, they started on their journey. Venturing no longer to show themselves to any one on the way, lest the direction of their flight might be known, they travelled only at night till they were beyond the settlements. Arriving at Hadley, they were received into the house of Mr. Russell, where a secret apart- ment had been prepared for them, and entering that, they were never seen except by their faithful host: never, unless, years afterwards, a strange apparition at a moment of imminent danger was no ghostly visitor, but one of the regicide judges still in the flesh. Whalley lived ten years in this remote hiding-place, growing infirm in body and declining into "second childhood." Goffe lived there at least five years later, but how much longer, and what ultimately became of him, is a mystery. An officious loyalist, in 1678, proposed a plan for capturing him and carrying him to New York to Sir Edmund Andros. He stated under oath that Joseph Bull, of Hartford, had for several years privately kept Colonel Gofte at his house under the name of Cooke. This man also swore that his plan for seizing Goffe was frustrated by two magistrates to whom it was divulged by a confederate. Whether this be THE REGICIDES, WHALLET AND GOFFE. true or not, it is probable that Goffe left Hadley; but where he con- cealed himself, and where he died, is not known. During the long period of the refugees' residence in New England, Goffe was able occasionally to correspond with his wife, who remained in England. They assumed the name of Goldsmith, and wrote as mother and son. The letters of Mrs. Goffe exhibit the most devoted attach- ment to her husband, as well as religious faith and patience amid the dangers that surrounded her and her children. There have been many traditions concerning the narrow escape of the regicides from their pursuers, some of which, however, are incon- sistent with well-authenticated facts, while others are only possible and not very probable. Among others is one that the day Kellond and Kirk were expected, the judges walked out on the road by which the pursuers must come; that when some distance from the settlement they were overtaken by the sheriff, who had a warrant for their apprehension, but that the judges resisted his attempt to take them, and, planting themselves behind a tree, defended themselves with their cudgels, and compelled the officer to retire to seek assistance. As Deputy-Governor Leete had not arrived at New Haven, and both he and the magistrates were disposed to obstruct the pursuers rather than assist them, there was no one to issue a warrant, and under the circumstances the sheriff would probably have been little disposed to act without one. Akin to this is another tradition, which is only a little less improb- able, that they concealed themselves under a bridge over which the pursuers passed on their way into the town. But it is said that the events given in these traditions were only the carrying out of a pre- concerted plan to show that the magistrates of New Haven had used their endeavors to apprehend the fugitives before the arrival of the pursuers. This may be true, but is hardly characteristic. It is also said that when the pursuers were searching the town, the judges, in changing their hiding-places, happened, by accident or design, at the house of Mrs. Eyers, a respectable lady, who, seeing the pursuers coming, ushered her guests out at the back door; and that after walking a few steps they returned, and were concealed in one of the good lady's apartments, when the pursuers entered the house. When the latter in- quired whether the regicides were at her house, she replied that they COLONEL JOHN DIXWELL. 375 had been there, but were just gone away, and pointed out the course they took into the woods. " By her polite and artful address, she diverted their attention from the house, and putting them upon a false scent, thereby secured her friends." As Kellond and Kirk had no au- thority to make a search for the regicides, and were most of the time engaged in the attempt to obtain such authority or aid from the magis- trates, they could hardly have scoured the town very thoroughly in pur- suit of the fugitives. If they went about without a warrant making inquiries, the regicides would hardly have been as safe flying from one hiding-place to another as if they remained under Minister Davenport's hospitable roof, with that worthy man at hand to defend his castle against unauthorized intruders. Tradition tells of one other escape, that while the judges were at the house of Mr. Richard Sperry, they were surprised by an unexpected visit from their pursuers, who were seen approaching over a causeway across a morass. The judges saw their enemies when several rods dis- tant, and hurrying from the house, made their escape to the mountain. It is quite possible that the disappointed pursuers may have gone about to find some trace of the fugitives, and in this way wandered out to Sperry's retired house, when the regicides were on the way to West Rock; but many a fiction is preserved by tradition. One other of the judges who had condemned Charles I. Colonel John Dixwell escaped to America, and made his home in New Haven. At the Restoration, he fled from England, but whither was not known. He came to New England some years after Whalley and Goffe, when several of the judges had already been executed, and when a price was set upon his head. It was therefore necessary for him to observe the greatest secrecy as to his real character. He visited his old associates, Whalley and Goffe, at Hadley, and spent some time in that place. He then took up his residence in New Haven, under the assumed name of James Davids, and was known only to a very few friends, whose fidelity was unimpeachable. Among these were Governor Jones, and the Rev. James Pierpont, the successor of Davenport. With the latter, Dixwell became very intimate. The lot on which stood his house adjoined that of the minister, and the two were in the habit of meeting at the fence to hold long confidential interviews, and in time a pathway was worn 376 THE REGICIDES. on either side between the house and the place of frequent meeting. Mrs. Pierpont's attention was attracted to this path which her husband so often trod, and seeing that he went to meet this neighbor, with par- donable curiosity she asked him what he saw in that old man that was so attractive. " He is a very wise and learned man," was the answer she received. Not to his wife would the minister reveal the secret. Dixwell was tall, erect, and had a military bearing; and when Sir Edmund Andros was in New Haven, he observed at church this man, whose appearance was so distinguished, and inquired who he was, and whence he came. He was told that it was Mr. Davids, a merchant of New Haven. Andros, who had been trained in camp and court, saw that this merchant had some time played a different role, and declared in a positive manner, " I know he is not a merchant." These words were made known to Dixwell, who had reason to fear that the haughty royalist would attempt to penetrate the secret which his appearance had half' betrayed, and he took good care not to be seen again -while the governor-general was in New Haven. But he was never identified as one of the regicides; Colonel Dixwell had disappeared from the world, and James Davids lived quietly at New Haven to an advanced age. In the old burying-ground at New Haven, three stones are said to mark the graves of Whalley, Goffe, and Dixwell, but it is doubtful if their remains rest there. Near the close of the last century, the old house in Hadley in which the regicides passed so many years was torn down, and in the ground under the cellar were found the bones of a large man, which were without doubt those of Whalley. XLIV. KING PHILIP AND THE COLONISTS. jio R nearly forty years after the Pequot war the New Eng- land colonies enjoyed peace with the native tribes, dis- turbed only by occasional petty disputes, which were usually discreetly managed by the colonial authorities, and amicably settled. In the mean time the settlements had extended inland r and pioneers from the seaboard had established themselves on the Connecticut River at Had- ley, Northampton, Hatfield, Deerfield, and Northfield, besides Springfield, which had been settled when other parties went to Hartford. The towns of Lancaster and Marlborough had been founded, and there were a few settlers at Brookfield, while farther east were the hamlets of Groton and Sudbury, and others nearer to Boston. Within the Plymouth colony, settlements had extended more slowly; but Taun- ton, Rehoboth, Swansey, and other towns had been founded. All these interior settlements were the frontiers of civilized life, in the midst of a wilderness, and exposed to great danger in case of hostilities on the part of the natives. In Connecticut, the settlements had extended chiefly along the valley of the river and on the seaboard. Between them and the Massachusetts towns was a wilderness inhabited only by wandering bands of Indians and the wild animals they hunted. During this period of peace there were some political events of importance, and changes in the condition of the colonies and their rela- tions to the mother country, or rather to the king, which, however, it is not the purpose of this work to narrate at length. Royal commis- NO. x. 48 377 378 KING PHILIP AND THE COLONISTS. sioners had come over to assert the authority of the crown, and had met with a sturdy resistance from Massachusetts, such as might be anticipated from the character of her early settlers and the pertinacity with which, from the outset, they maintained their rights and practical independence. Connecticut more readily accepted a royal charter which incorporated New Haven into her jurisdiction, while the New Haven people very reluctantly suffered themselves thus to be absorbed into a more powerful colony. The confederation which had existed prior to this consolidation of the western colonies was dissolved, but after some fruitless efforts a new confederacy was formed between the three col- onies, Massachusetts, Plymouth, and Connecticut. Rhode Island, which was the refuge of all sorts of schismatics and enthusiasts, was still not admitted to union with the more sober and better-regulated colonies. Meanwhile the Indians, though they nominally lost something of their hunting-grounds and independence, were really benefited by the advent of the whites. They could barter their surplus of corn and furs for blankets, knives, and tools, as well as trinkets, and they were relieved from the danger of famine, which their wasteful and improvident habits had previously not infrequently caused during the long winters. The colonial governments had cautiously prohibited the sale of fire-arms and ammunition to them, but they were surreptitiously supplied by some of the more reckless or less discreet settlers, and had also procured the prohibited weapons from the Dutch traders. In the use of these arms they soon became expert, finding them far more efficient in hunting game than their rude weapons had been. They in the same degree became more formidable to the whites in case of hostilities. Three or four thousand of the natives had become " praying Indians," or converts to Christianity, chiefly among those who dwelt near Boston or Plymouth. The mass, however, were still unconverted heathen, and the more numer- ous tribes would not receive any missionaries. Samoset, the chief of the Pokanokets, who had made a treaty of friendship with the Pilgrims soon after their settlement at Plymouth, faithfully observed it during his life. When the aged sachem died (in 1660), he was succeeded by his sons, Wamsutta and Metacomet, who did not inherit their father's good-will towards the English. Wamsutta desired an English name for himself and his brother, and the court at ALEXANDER AND PHILIP. Plymouth willingly complied with the request, selecting, however, two celebrated heathen names rather than such as were given to their own children. They ordered that Wamsutta should be called Alexander, and that Metacomet should be called Philip. Having acquired his famous name, Alexander was restless, and apparently anxious to achieve something worthy of it. It was reported at Plymouth that he was plotting with the Narragansetts, and as it was the policy of the colonial governments to encourage jealousy rather than alliances between the different tribes, these movements were looked upon with disfavor. Alexander was accordingly summoned to Plymouth to give an account of himself. He did not obey the first summons, but he responded to a more urgent one, and, coming to Plymouth, made explanations which were satisfactory. Before returning he was taken sick with a fever, and was conveyed home by water. He died soon after reaching home (1662), and Philip became the sole sachem of the Pokanokets. Philip was known to be haughty and ambitious, and more restless than his brother, and some apprehension was felt at Plymouth lest he was concerned in the plot with which Alexander had been charged. He too was summoned to Plymouth to answer such interrogations as the court should propose. He appeared, and denied that he had a hand in any plot against the English, or knew of any such conspiracy against them. He acknowledged himself a subject of the king of England, and promised to faithfully observe the treaty of friendship which his father had so long ago made with the colonists. For five years Philip gave the whites no reason to doubt his fidelity to his promises. Then came the announcement, by one of his own tribe, that he had openly expressed himself as ready to join the French or Dutch against the English. Again the uneasy sachem was summoned to answer for his alleged false conduct. He denied the charge, and de- clared it was a calumny of Ninigret, chief of the Nyantics. The Indian who had been the informer did not quail before his sachem, but persisted in the charge, naming the time and place of making the hostile declara- tion and the parties who were present. Philip as boldly persisted in his denial, and in token of his innocence offered to surrender the arms in the possession of his followers an offer which was promptly accepted. . 380 KING PHILIP AND THE COLONISTS. Philip probably repented of this surrender; for, at the next court at Plymouth, he appeared, and renewing his protestations of innocence of all hostile intent, and of friendship to the English, he lamented the with- drawal of their good will towards himself. The wily sachem had evi- dently studied English human nature, and knew how to reach their generosity. He succeeded so far in persuading the Plymouth magis- trates that he was more sinned against than sinning, that they were rather disposed to sympathize with him. While they "judged it better to keep a watchful eye " on his conduct, they determined " to continue terms of love and amity with him, unless something further did mani- festly appear." The result of the conference was, that the arms which had been surrendered were restored to him. Returning to his home at Mount Hope, Philip remained quiet for four years more, when it was reported that he was again engaged in warlike movements, mustering his followers, and assuming a threatening attitude towards the white settlers nearest to his domain. The Plymouth government sent commissioners, accompanied by a military force, to Taunton, and desired Philip to meet them there. He was tardy in making his appearance, and when he did come it was with a band of armed followers. He was reluctant, too, to come to a conference, as if he feared some treachery, and some of the English were impatient to march out and settle all their troubles with the uneasy sachem by an attack on him. Such counsels did not prevail, but some men from Bos- ton who were present acted as mediators, and a conference was at last held. The result was, Philip again renewed " his covenant with his ancient friends," and engaged to deliver up " to the government of New Plymouth all his English arms, to be kept by them for their security so long as they should see reason." Under this agreement, Philip surren- dered about seventy guns, which was a great loss to him; but this was not a fulfilment of his agreement, for it was soon found that a number of guns which should have been delivered up were secretly conveyed away,, and doubtless there were others in the hands of his tribe. The proud sachem was dissatisfied with himself for yielding so readily to the demands of the whites, and when he returned to his home he refused to deliver up any more arms, or to offer any excuse for the neglect. From the first he had probably contemplated hostilities when PHILIP HUMBLES HIMSELF. 3 8l he should be prepared, notwithstanding his protestations. Whether he had sent emissaries to other tribes or not, his temper was undoubtedly known to them, and restless Indians, who were anxious to display their prowess, found their way to his part of the country, and were ready to join in any demonstration against the whites. Intelligence was again brought to Plymouth that his conduct and language were threatening, and the council of war which the magistrates had appointed determined that it was necessary to require him to come and clear himself, and if he refused to come, that he should be reduced by force. But before resorting to war, it was deemed prudent to lay the matter before the neighboring colonies. Philip did not make his appearance at the time appointed, but en- deavored, by counter complaints to some of the leading men of Mas- sachusetts, to secure their good offices, and he succeeded in making them believe that his offence was not so serious as the Plymouth gov- ernment represented. They offered their services to settle the quarrel, and three prominent gentlemen repaired to Plymouth for that purpose. There they were joined by Governor Winthrop of Connecticut, and a council was held, at which Philip was present and had a fair opportu- nity to defend himself. The council determined that he " had done a great deal of wrong," and endeavored to persuade him to acknowledge his fault and make reparation. He was given to understand that if he did not "humble himself" to the magistrates of Plymouth, and amend his ways, he must expect punishment. The haughty sachem was at first indisposed to agree to the terms dictated; but at last he and five of his subordinate chiefs signed an instrument in which they acknowl- edged themselves as subject to the king of England, and the government of Plymouth and its laws. In token of their allegiance, they agreed to pay a yearly tribute of five wolves' heads, and an indemnity of a hun- dred pounds for the expenses they had occasioned. They also made further engagements of submission to the Plymouth government. For three years Philip observed the obligations of this treaty, and the quiet of the colony was undisturbed. But meanwhile the humilia- tion he had suffered rankled in his breast. Was he not a sachem? Why should he then acknowledge allegiance to an unknown king across the sea? And who were these arrogant whites, whom his father had 382 KING PHILIP AND THE COLONISTS. unwisely encouraged, that they should assert authority over him and his people? Intruders and spoilers in the land of his fathers, they ought to be exterminated, and the lost hunting-grounds be restored to their original owners. But Philip was politic as well as revengeful, and he knew he was not prepared to cope with his civilized adversary. Only by a slow process could he replace the arms of which he had been deprived, and without fire-arms and ammunition he could not hope to accomplish anything. At the end of three years (in 1674) he had increased his arms, and began to exhibit again a hostile temper. Sausaman, an Indian who had been educated at Cambridge, and was a schoolmaster and a preacher, at one time having fled from Natick on account of some misconduct, took refuge with the Pokanokets. He had now come on a visit to his old friends, and, seeing the temper of Philip, and that he was exerting himself " to engage all the sachems round about in a war," he communicated the intelligence to the governor of Plymouth, under a promise that the source of the information should remain a secret. Philip was at this time on the hunting-grounds he frequented near Middleborough, and in some way he learned that the Plymouth authorities had heard of his hostile conduct. Without waiting to be summoned, he went to Plymouth and protested his innocence. The magistrates, while having little faith in his friendly professions, had little evidence to the contrary, and contented themselves by warning him that if they heard anything further of his offensive conduct, they might again require a surrender of his arms. A few days after this Sausaman disappeared, and his hat and gun were found on the ice of a pond near Middleborough. An investiga- tion proved that he had been murdered and thrust through the ice. The perpetrators of the crime three Indians were soon discovered, and brought to trial at Plymouth. A jury, composed in part of Indians, found them guilty, and they were sentenced to death, and executed. Meanwhile Philip, who had probably instigated the murder, and expected to be called to account for it, seemed determined not to obey any sum- mons, but kept his men in arms, ready to resist if an attempt was made to arrest him. Hoping that the ill-natured chief would soon become more quiet if let alone, the Plymouth government took no notice of his conduct, except to order a military watch in the several towns. THE FINAL RESOLUTION. 383 Soon, however, more alarming news came from Swansey, which was the nearest town to Philip's domain. He kept his men constantly under arms, and had been joined by many strange Indians. The squaws and children had been sent to Narragansett, and the young men were fierce for war. Drums were beat and guns were fired at night, and preparations for mischief were evidently afoot. The magistrates again tried moderation, and wrote a friendly letter to Philip, " advising him to dismiss his strange Indians, and command his own men to fall quietly to their business." The messenger who carried this letter was conducted to Philip's cabin without the cordial demonstrations of good will which during Massasoit's time usually awaited the visitor from Plymouth. Philip himself, as usual, received him with dignity, and listened quietly to the reading of the letter. When it was finished he did not, as previ- ously, protest his innocence of all evil intentions, but signifying that he heard the message, gave its bearer to understand that he might depart without any reply. In addition to this cool dismission, the messenger saw enough to confirm the reports which had reached Plymouth; most of the Indians were proudly displaying their guns, and all their actions indicated an unusual condition of affairs. Philip had determined to make no more professions of friendship, but to act as his hostile temper dictated. He had brooded long over his humiliations and wrongs, and he resolved to suffer them no longer. XLV. KING PHILIP'S WAR. NE summer morning in 1675, the good people of Swan- sey, the nearest settlement to Philip's territory, after the Puritan custom, had gone to their little " meeting- house " to attend the Sabbath services. As usual, the men carried their guns, and the recent restless and threat- ening conduct of the Indians made them more cautious to see that their ammunition was ready. All who were able, young and old, had left their dwellings, and were gathered in the church. The long services were well advanced, when the sentinels, who were posted at the door where they could hear the minister while they kept watch against surprise, saw smoke ascending above the neighboring trees, in the direction of the farthest houses of the settlement. An alarm was given, and the preacher ceased before he was half through his long sermon. The men came out with their arms, and women and children followed in alarm. The smoke of two fires was now seen, and all the people hurried to learn whose dwellings were in flames. The foremost of the men saw in the distance several Indians hurrying away, and the fact was soon made known that two families had lost their homes at the hands of the savages. Word was speedily sent to Plymouth, and from Plymouth to Boston; but the people of Swansey looked upon the outrage as the work of some of the more insolent of the savages, and not as a preconcerted movement of Philip's tribe, and they desired aid simply to overawe the Indians, and secure 384 TROOPS MARCH TO MOUNT HOPE. 385 the offenders. A few days afterwards, when all hands were in the fields, a dozen houses were rifled by the marauders, and the occupants returned to their homes to find their scanty goods destroyed or carried away. The next day, one of the settlers was shot while at his work. The people now became more alarmed, and on the following day they realized their danger when several more of their number were shot on the outskirts of the settlement. They learned now how brutal these savages were when they saw their friends beheaded, dismembered, and mangled in the most inhuman manner. It was evident that Philip's unruly followers were bent on some- thing more than the destruction or plunder of property. A small force now arrived from Plymouth, and soon after a larger body of soldiers, including a troop of horse, came from Boston, from which place they had been despatched by the magistrates at the first alarm, and had come to the rescue of the frontier settlement by a forced march. A party of horsemen were immediately sent out to reconnoitre, and were fired upon from the bushes by the Indians. One man was killed and another wounded; evidently the Indians did not intend to yield to this show of force. The next morning, the colonial troops had an oppor- tunity to retaliate, and shot several of the natives. Philip, ascertaining the number of troops brought against him, knew that he could not, with his limited number of well-armed followers, maintain his ground; and since he had now commenced war, he de- termined to conduct it after the Indian fashion of surprises and ambus- cades. He accordingly crossed with his men in canoes to the eastern shore of the bay, and the colonial forces, under Major Savage, who had come from Boston with additional troops, marched to Mount Hope. They found the Indian wigwams abandoned, but in token of the ferocity with which their recent occupants had commenced hostilities, they found the heads of eight of their countrymen stuck upon poles. Around these trophies the savages had danced their war-dance, and gone to carry terror to other settlements. Major Savage, however, supposed the enemy was still on the peninsula of Mount Hope, and threw up a slight fortification for protection against attack, or, as Captain Church says, " the army now lay still to cover the people from nobody, while they were building a fort for nothing." NO. x. 49 386 KING PHILIP'S WAR. Captain Church, who was well acquainted with Indian habits, opposed stopping at Mount Hope, believing that Philip and his men had left that region. He advised that a force be sent across the bay to Pocasset, on the eastern shore, to secure quiet among the Indians there. After some delay, Captains Fuller and Church were sent across with a small force. Fuller, encountering a band of hostile savages, was compelled to withdraw to a sloop, which took him back to Rhode Island. Church, with fifteen men, marched into the woods and encountered a band of more than one hundred and fifty Indians. He retired to the shore, closely pressed by the enemy, and during a long summer after- noon kept them at bay. On the other side of the water were many spectators, and Church ordered his men to throw off" their coats, that their white shirts might be seen, and thus their unequal numbers be observed, and reinforcements or boats be sent to them. As night approached, and their ammunition was nearly exhausted, a sloop for- tunately appeared, and they were taken on board. Philip soon made his whereabouts known by a sudden attack on Dartmouth, where he burned nearly thirty houses and killed a number of the inhabitants, whose bodies were treated with the ferocity common to Indian warfare. Parties of his men went also to Taunton and Mid- dleborough, where they burned some- houses and butchered their *a inmates. The people of Plymouth and Massachusetts were now thoroughly alarmed. They had never experienced anything like this, and the tra- ditions of the massacres in Virginia were recalled with fear and trem- bling. The only experience which the colonies had had in an Indian war was when, nearly forty years before, Mason and Underhill had practically destroyed the fierce tribe of Pequots in Connecticut. Noth- ing like actual hostilities had been known in the eastern colonies since Miles Standish had so summarily nipped in the bud the warlike inten- tions of Pecksuot at Weymouth. It was with reason feared that Philip's example might arouse the savage nature of other tribes, and encourage them to join in a war upon the whites. The Narragansetts, as the most powerful tribe, were most to be feared, and commissioners from Massachusetts and Connecticut, attended by a strong military escort, were sent to secure their neutrality. The commissioners effected a AN AMBUSCADE AT BROOKFIELD. 387 treaty with the sachems of that tribe, by which they agreed to oppose Philip, and to deliver up, alive or dead, any of his men who should come within their country. But the bad example of Philip had already produced its effect. His proceedings had long ago created an uneasiness in the young men of other tribes, and they were anxious to add to the diversion of hunting that of killing and scalping the English settlers. Immediately after the events at Swansey, Indian runners sped through the woods to carry the news to other tribes; and while the commissioners were nego- tiating with the Narragan setts, a band of Nipmucks a tribe of cen- tral Massachusetts made a hostile attack on the town of Mendon. It was not so formidable as to indicate that the tribe was determined on hostilities, and Captain Hutchinson was sent, with a small body of troopers, to attempt an arrangement similar to that made with the Nar- ragansetts. The principal rendezvous of the Nipmucks at that time was in the neighborhood of Quaboag, or Brookfield, where there was a small set- tlement of the English, the only one between Marlborough and the Connecticut River. The people of Brookfield were already alarmed at the conduct of the Indians, and they were greatly relieved by the appearance of Hutchinson and his escort. Arrangements were made for a conference with the Indians, and a place for the interview was appointed. Hutchinson, with some of the Brookfield men, escorted by twenty horsemen, repaired to the appointed place, but the Indians were nowhere to be seen. As the absence of the savages might be due to some misunderstanding, the party proceeded several miles farther in search of them, and as they entered a narrow passage between a steep, rocky hill on the one hand and a swamp on the other, they fell into an ambush. The Indians, concealed among the bushes, fired upon them, and killed eight men, while Hutchinson, Captain Wheeler, the com- mander, and several others were wounded. Wheeler's horse was shot under him, but his son, who was also wounded, gave him his, and for- tunately soon after secured one which had belonged to one of his dead comrades for himself. The survivors of the party hastily retreated, being guided by one of the Brookfield men through the woods by a circuitous path back to the settlement. 388 KING PHILIP'S WAR. All the inhabitants of Brookfield hastily took refuge in a large house, which the men prepared to defend. The retreating party had hardly arrived before the Indians made their appearance in the little hamlet, and speedily set fire to the more exposed buildings, and two messen- gers who had set out to carry the news to Boston were driven back. It was not long before the Indians commenced firing at the house in which the people were gathered, and one man was mortally wounded. Another, who ventured out, fell into the hands of the savages, who killed him, and cutting off his head, kicked it about as a football. In the night they attempted to set fire to the house by heaping some com- bustibles against it, and applying a torch, but a party sallied out and extinguished the flames, while the marksmen within kept the savages at bay. Within the house were all the women and children of the little settlement, exposed to the bullets of the Indians, which often penetrated the walls, and in danger of being obliged to choose between perishing in the flames or being butchered by the cruel savages. All the fol- lowing day and night the Indians were lavish with their ammunition, and kept up a constant discharge of musketry against the house. Arrows tipped with burning rags were discharged at the roof, through which it was necessary for the inmates to cut holes to extinguish them. Meanwhile the besieged were watchfully keeping the besiegers at a distance by picking off with fatal shots all who exposed them- selves. The savages, however, were bent upon setting fire to the house, and on the third day they prepared a sort of long cart, the for- ward part of which was loaded with combustibles. This they intended to light and push against the house, but an opportune shower of rain so wet their materials that they would not burn. The second night had come, and the besieged were looking forward to another weary watch to defeat the plans of the cunning and active savages, when the latter suddenly ceased firing their guns, and discon- tinued their yells. Soon a heavy trampling was heard, and Major Simon Willard, a veteran of seventy years, came galloping into the ruined hamlet with fifty heavily armed troopers, and accompanied by the cattle belonging to the settlers. This accession to Major Willard's force had probably made it seem to the Indians more numerous than it really BROOKFIELD ABANDONED. 389 was. Willard was on his way from Lancaster to Groton, when a mes- senger informed him of the Nipmuck attack, and he immediately hur- ried to the rescue with his command, accomplishing the long march in good time, and with a vigor which would have been creditable to a much younger man. The Indians withdrew from the immediate neighborhood of Brook- field, having lost about eighty men during the siege. It was afterwards learned that the next day Philip met the Nipmuck chiefs and made them presents, in token of alliance against the whites. He had, indeed, reached the Nipmuck country the day before the fatal ambush, and to him was probably due the treachery of the chiefs, who had promised a friendly conference, and gave a bloody assault. He had been closely pressed, in the vicinity of Taunton River, by the troops returning from the mission to the Narragansetts, and obliged to fly. In the pursuit he lost thirty men, but with the remainder of his tribe, including the women and children, he succeeded in joining the Nipmucks. He had plunged madly into war, and now he determined to stir up all his race to join him. As soon as the wounded were able to be moved, Brookfield was abandoned, and the inhabitants withdrew to Marlborough, where Hutch- inson diqd of his wounds. The veteran Willard with his troop pro- ceeded to Hadley. The alarm now spread throughout the colonies, and every family in the smaller and more exposed settlements were in con- stant dread lest they should be roused from their slumbers by the fearful war-whoop to find their homes in flames and cruel savages Waiting to butcher them. The hostile spirit was spreading among the Indians, bands of whom were ready to plunder and kill wherever they could surprise an exposed house. The towns on the Connecticut River were especially in danger, and forces were sent from Massachusetts and Connecticut for their protection. Hadley was selected as the principal military post and depot for supplies, whence expeditions could be sent up or down the river. At Hatfield, a small stockade was erected, and a body of Indians of that vicinity, who professed friendship, was supplied with arms and stationed there. There were soon some indications that these Indians were not so friendly as had been supposed, and a hundred men were sent from Hadley to dis- 39 KING PHILIP'S WAR. arm them. On their arrival at Hatfield, they found the Indians had decamped, and immediately started in pursuit. They came upon the fugitives in a swamp, ten miles from the settlement, and a fight ensued, in which the colonial troops lost ten men and the Indians twenty-six. It soon became evident that all the Indians along the Connecticut, who had hitherto lived on friendly terms with the settlers, now sym- pathized with their hostile countrymen, and only waited for opportunity to wage war according to the Indian custom, by surprises and ambus- cades. At Deerfield, a number of houses and barns were burned, and two men were killed. At Northfield,- a party of men, having ventured out of a block-house where all the settlers were obliged to take refuge, were intercepted by a band of skulking Indians, and nine of them were killed. The Indians were ever watchful for an opportunity to attack when the settlers were at disadvantage. They knew all the movements of the troops, and observed when the greater part of the forces had left Haclley on some expedition. The inhabitants of this place were keeping a fast, and were attending religious services in their meeting-house, when they were suddenly aroused by the yells of the savages. The men seized their muskets, and rushed out to defend their wives and children from the dreaded enemy. They saw the Indians skulking from shelter to shelter, and advancing on every side, sounding the war-whoop, and discharging their guns from behind trees. Unused to war, surprised and confused by the suddenness of the attack, and having no skilled leader, they were about to give way, when, as tradition has it, a stranger, clad in an ancient garb, tall and erect notwithstanding his advanced age, appeared sud- denly among them and assumed command. His bold demeanor and his stern voice rallied the wavering settlers, and they quickly made good use of their muskets. The skulking enemy was checked in his advance, and then, under the lead of the mysterious commander, the settlers rushed forward and drove the assailants headlong out of the town. When the victorious settlers desisted from pursuit, and again gathered at their meeting-house, their leader had disappeared. No one knew whence he came or whither he had gone, and, with awe and thanks- giving, they believed he must have been a supernatural visitant sent by a merciful Providence to be their deliverer. But the unknown leader GOFFE RALLYING THE MEN OF HADLEY. A FIGHT NEAR NORTHFIELD. 39 I was none other than the regicide Goffe, who dwelt so secretly in the house of Mr. Russell that his existence was unknown to the greater part of the people, and the fidelity of those who were in the secret was too true to allow them to betray it, even in this time of excitement. He had seen the stealthy approach of the savages, and realizing the danger, he rushed out to engage once more in the din of battle, and to lead to victory. When he had performed this last service " for God's people," he returned again to his place of concealment, and the awe-struck inhabitants of Hadley saw him no more. The inhabitants and little garrison at Northfield were in an exposed position, at a distance from the main body of the military and other settlements. After the attack on the party who ventured out from the block-house there, Captain Beers was sent, with thirty-six men and some wagons, to bring away the remainder of the people and the stores. When this party had arrived within three miles of Northfield, they were attacked by a body of Indians lying in ambush. They fought till their ammunition was exhausted, and then were obliged to retreat, with a loss of twenty men, including the commander. They had, however, inflicted a greater loss on their assailants. Most of the survivors succeeded in reaching Hadley the same night, but one wandered in the woods six days, and came in almost famished. A stronger force, under Major Treat, was then sent up to Northfield, and, though the Indians undertook to waylay them, the men fought their way through, and brought off their friends in Northfield, that settlement being abandoned. At this stage of affairs, the Commissioners of the United Colonies met at Boston, and, after due deliberation, decided that the war was defensive in its origin, and should be carried on by the colonies jointly; and they ordered "that there be forthwith raised a thousand soldiers, whereof five hundred should be dragoons, or troopers with long arms." Massachusetts was to raise five hundred and twenty-seven men, Con- necticut three hundred and fifteen, and Plymouth one hundred and fifty-eight. The troops were raised from all the towns, and supplies collected for their maintenance. Astringent code of " articles of war" was adopted by the General Court of Massachusetts for the government of the forces of that colony, " to prevent profaneness, that iniquity may be kept out of the camp." Morality and religious duties were especially 39 2 KING PHILIP'S WAR. enforced by this code, and insubordination and other military offences were punished, some with death, and others "with some grievous pun- ishment." " By grievous punishment is meant disgracing by cashiering, the strappado, or riding the wooden horse to fetch blood." Meanwhile the Indians continued their hostile movements on the Connecticut. At Deerfield which after the abandonment of North- field was the most exposed settlement the Indians fired upon the in- habitants as they went to public worship. It was then deemed advisable to abandon this settlement also, and the people were removed to the towns further down the river. They had just harvested, and partially threshed, a considerable quantity of wheat, which they left behind, and a party of teamsters and soldiers was sent from Iladley to finish threshing and bring it away. This expedition consisted of eighteen wagons with their teamsters, escorted by a force of ninety picked men, " the flower of Essex," under Captain Lothrop. The party reached Deerfield with- out opposition, threshed and loaded the grain, and on the i8th of Sep- tember commenced their homeward march. They had proceeded several miles through a level country, thickly wooded, where they were exposed to an attack on either flank, but no sign of the presence of Indians was seen, and they began to be unsuspicious of danger and careless. Reach- ing a small stream bordered with thick woods, the teams found some difficulty in crossing, and those of the party who were in advance waited for the others to cross. During the halt the men laid aside their arms and began to gather the wild grapes which hung ripe upon the vines. It was a fatal imprudence. In the thick bushes lay concealed several hundred Indians, and suddenly a volley from as many muskets was dis- charged at the unsuspecting English, many of whom were killed. A fearful yell succeeded, and a swarm of savages sprang from their am- bush, and fell upon the disconcerted soldiers before they could seize their arms and form. Confusion and dismay followed. The troops fled, pursued by the Indians, who outnumbered them at least five to one. Lothrop, who exerted himself bravely to rally his men, soon fell, and the scattered soldiers could only fight each by himself. There was no hope of mercy from the savage foe, and they resolved to sell their lives dearly. Sheltering themselves behind trees, they fired upon the assailants, but the far more numerous Indians were equal if not superior marksmen, BLOOD T BROOK. 393 and the number of English rapidly diminished. At length the force was all but annihilated; only seven or eight escaping. One of these was shot and tomahawked, and being stripped was left for dead; but having revived after the Indians disappeared, he succeeded in making his way to Hadley. The little stream on whose banks this carnage took place has well been named " Bloody Brook." Captain Mosely, with a company of soldiers who had been stationed at Deerfield, and remained behind to protect the rear of the train from any sudden attack, heard the musketry five miles away, and hurried for- ward to the scene of the battle. He found the Indians scalping and stripping the dead, and opened a vigorous fire upon them. The sav- ages, though greatly superior in numbers, did not dare to face a well- ordered force in the open field, but they kept up the contest from their hiding-places for some time. At last Major Treat arrived with a hundred soldiers and fifty friendly Mohegans (who were still faithful to the pledges of Uncas), and drove the skulking enemy from the ground. The troops encamped for the night near the scene of the battle, and the next day they buried their fallen comrades, over whom a later genera- tion has erected a monument. The battle of Bloody Brook carried mourning into many a family in Ipswich, Salem, and other towns of Essex County, where the unfortunate company was enlisted, and caused intense excitement throughout Mas- sachusetts. With fire-arms in their hands, the Indians had become far more formidable than they had hitherto been regarded, and their mode of warfare by ambuscades and midnight surprises made them more dreaded than an enemy of far greater numbers would have been in the open field. The treachery of the natives was becoming general, and those who had hitherto lived on friendly terms with the inhab- itants of the frontier towns now showed a hostile spirit. The Indians about Springfield had from the first manifested a dispo- sition to live peaceably with their white neighbors. They were fre- quently in the town to barter or beg, and were always well treated. When hostilities were commenced elsewhere, the people of Springfield still trusted these Indians, who gave the most positive assurances of friendship, and no considerable force was posted there. But while the treacherous savages were making these professions, Philip, or his em- NO. x. 50 394 KING PHILIP'S WAR. issaries, was persuading them to join in the war, and they yielded to his influence. About a mile from the town they had a fort, and in it they gathered all the warriors of the tribe, and were joined by others who had already engaged in the war. A friendly Indian belonging near Windsor, in Connecticut, gave to some of the people of that place in- formation of the hostile gathering, and of the purpose to attack Spring- field. Warning was immediately sent to the threatened village, and also to Major Treat, who was stationed at Westfield with the Con- necticut troops. But the people of Springfield were so strongly per- suaded of the good faith of the neighboring tribe, that they would not credit the report, and took no measures for defence. Lieutenant Cooper, who was the military commander, was so confident that the report was unfounded that he rode out early in the morning with another man, with a design to go to the fort and discover the true state of affairs. They had not gone far from the town before they encountered some Indians, who, without waiting to parley, at once discharged their guns, wounding Cooper and killing his companion. Though severely hurt, Cooper kept his horse, and sped back towards Springfield to give the alarm. The people hurried from their homes as the fearful news was carried along, and gathered in the strongest houses in the midst of the village, still uncertain whether anything more serious would occur. The Indians soon appeared in large numbers on the outskirts of the town, and as they advanced, plundered and set fire to the unprotected houses and barns. The inhabitants were in the utmost consternation, and there was no commander to rally the men in defence of their homes and families. They could make only an irregular and feeble resistance, and they might ultimately have been all killed or captured, had not Major Treat fortunately come to their relief. Putting more faith in the report than the people of Springfield did, he lost no time in marching towards that place. But when he reached the Connecticut, he was delayed by the want of a sufficient number of boats to cross, and he was not in time to prevent the attack. The savages had already de- stroyed thirty dwelling-houses, and were closing around those in which the inhabitants had taken refuge, when he arrived. The appearance of the troops caused the Indians to pause in their work and then to retire. They had no disposition to face an organized body of whites ATTACK ON HATFIELD. in an open field, and their retreat was soon hastened by Major Treat's prompt attack. A fortnight after the attack on Springfield, the Indians appeared in force at Hatfield, and commenced a like exploit. But they found the people here better prepared for such a visit, and a small garrison ready to defend the place. A hot fire was opened on them, and after a sharp but short encounter, the assailants were driven off with considerable loss. This was the last appearance for a time of any large number of hostile Indians on the Connecticut. Short campaigns were the rule with them, and they were wont to disappear as suddenly and mysteriously as they came, plunging into the depths of the forest after a fight, whether suc- cessful or the reverse. Now they had apparently withdrawn to recu- perate; for, considering their numbers, they had suffered heavy losses. As that part of the country seemed to be abandoned by the enemy, many of the colonial troops also returned to their homes, and it was fondly hoped that the war was over. XLVI. KING PHILIP'S WAR. -THE NARRAGANSETTS. HILIP had by no means abandoned the war. He sought now to carry it to another field, and, by his personal appeals, or the efforts of his emissaries, he aroused the war spirit of the Narragansetts, and secured their alliance. That formidable tribe had, at the commencement of hostilities, promised neutrality; and while some of the bloody scenes were occurring on the western frontier, Canonchet, the sachem, with other chiefs, went to Boston, and agreed that the hostile Indians who had taken refuge with them should be surrendered within ten days. But the slaughter at Bloody Brook, and the other achievements of their countrymen at the west, aroused the ferocity of the savages, and they did not keep their en- gagement. When the day appointed for the surrender passed, and no Indians appeared, it became evident that the Narragansetts also were infected with the hostile spirit. Taking warning from the treacherous conduct of Philip, the Federal Commissioners determined not to parley with them, but promptly voted to raise an additional force of a thousand men to operate against these new enemies. Six weeks were allowed for col- lecting this force at the appointed rendezvous, and time was thus given the Narragansetts to reconsider their treacherous conduct. If they still failed to keep their promises, they were to be attacked without further delay. The force was raised and equipped with care, and Governor Winslow, of Plymouth, was appointed commander-in-chief. 39 6 AN INDIAN STRONGHOLD ATTACKED. 397 It was the middle of December before the quotas of the several col- onies assembled at Pettyquamscott. In the mean time the Indians had committed outrages on some small settlements in the region frequented by the Narragansetts, and the colonists were convinced that this tribe, if not the actual perpetrators, were privy to the deeds. From a prisoner Governor Winslow had ascertained that the principal body of the Nar- ragansetts were in a fortified position some eighteen miles distant, and he gave orders for an attack upon them on the following day, although it was Sunday, a day sacredly observed even in war by the Puritans, except in extraordinary cases. The position of the Indians was a strong one, being on a piece of upland, five or six acres in extent, surrounded by a swamp. It was also defended by several rows of palisades, and the only entrance was by a rude bridge, consisting of a felled tree, laid across the bog, opposite which was a block-house. In this enclosure the Narragansett warriors, to the number, as was then believed, of more than three thousand, were gathered, ready to resist an attack, or to start upon some sudden expedition against the English settlements. The weather was cold, and the snow lay deep upon the ground. The troops were without shelter, and they suffered much; but before light on the appointed morning they moved towards the position of the savages, and arrived before it an hour after noon. Notwithstanding their long and laborious march, they at once advanced to the attack. It was a difficult and dangerous work to cross the narrow bridge, or wade through the half frozen swamp. Seven or eight captains fell before the guns of the Indians in making this advance; but the men were not daunted by the loss of their officers, and pressed on with great spirit. The fight was desperate, and before the whole force could gain an entrance to the fort, those in advance were once driven out of it. But they soon rallied, and regaining the lost ground, drove the Indians back. The whole of the storming party having gained an entrance, the battle raged fiercely; the Indians fought desperately in defence of their last stronghold, and the English, enclosed in the fort with the savage foe, had no choice but to conquer or die. But the valor and endurance of the civilized soldier exceeded that of the savage, and at last the colonial troops were victorious. The Indians gave way, 398 KING PHILIP'S WAR. THE NARRAGANSETTS. and sought safety in flight, while the English applied the torch to the wigwams. The colonial loss in this conflict was seventy killed and one hundred and fifty wounded, many of whom afterwards died of their wounds. The loss of the Indians was supposed to be several hundred, and was so severe a blow to the Narragansetts that their power as a hostile tribe was completely broken. Though the colonial troops had achieved a victory, they were in a sorry condition. With their many wounded, they had no shelter from the severe cold and falling snow. Had the wigwams been spared, they might have found ample protection, as well as food from the Indian stores. Captain Church, who was a volunteer on this expedition, and from his knowledge of Indian habits proved a useful aid to Governor Winslow, remonstrated against the burning of the wigwams; but Winslow believed that his exhausted troops would be exposed to attack from the savages, who were supposed to swarm in the adjacent woods, and determined to withdraw to the place of ren- dezvous, where he could obtain food, of which the men were greatly in want. The troops, weary and cold, retraced their difficult march through the forest at night, the increasing depth of snow rendering it more and more laborious as they proceeded. They carried the wounded with them as carefully as possible, but several of them died on the way. During the retreat, Winslow, with some of his principal officers and the ministers who had been sent with the expedition, while attempting to pass around a swamp, lost their way, and wandered back to the scene of the conflict. Fortunately they were not surprised by the savages, and after " thirty miles' marching up and down," in the morning they reached the main body, of the army. The colonial forces remained at Wickford several weeks, suffering much from cold and hunger. Supplies sent to them by water failed to arrive, and at one time they were forced to kill horses for food. The Connecticut troops at length withdrew to Stonington, but the Massachu- setts and Plymouth levies still remained in the field, and were reinforced by troops from Boston. Nothing important, however, was accomplished; the Indians had scattered, and though some roving bands were occasion- ally encountered, no formidable force appeared or was heard of. After THE WAR NOT ENDED. 399 a campaign of two months, there seeming to be no occasion for their remaining longer, exposed to the cold and storms, the Massachusetts and Plymouth troops also returned home. The people in the larger settlements now felt that the war was sub- stantially over, and that since the defeat of the Narragansetts there was little danger to be feared. But they did not know the Indian character and mode of warfare. It soon became known, through friendly Indians, that the remnants of the hostile tribes had by no means given over the war. They professed to expect assistance from the French, and it was evident that they intended to transfer the seat of war to the interior of Massachusetts, and attack the exposed settlements there. The Narra- gansetts, who were reported to number seven hundred warriors, and were anxious to revenge their losses, had joined Philip, and most of the other scattered tribes were ready to unite in the war against the whites, who were regarded as the common enemy of their race. This informa- tion caused the Federal Commissioners to call for another levy of six hundred troops, who were ordered to assemble at Brookfield in three weeks. It was a short time for the colonies to raise such a force, but it was not short enough to prevent disaster. As if the Indians were informed of the purpose of the colonists, they at once resumed active hostilities, and fell upon the frontier towns which the troops were designed to protect. XI. VII. ATTACK ON LANCASTER. -MRS. ROWLAND- SON'S CAPTIVITY. ^N 1676 the town of Lancaster contained about fifty ^ houses and nearly three hundred inhabitants. Situated in a beautiful valley, with a rich alluvial soil, it was one of the pleasantest settlements in Massachusetts, and had grown more rapidly than most of the inland towns. The Reverend Joseph Rowlandson had come thither with the first settlers, and was the minister of the town. , When it became known through spies that the Indians were likely to attack the inland towns, Mr. Rowland- son went to Boston to represent the exposed condition of Lancaster, and to solicit aid from the authorities for its defence. But no imme- diate provision was made for the defence of that town, it being sup- posed that a general levy would be sufficient for the protection of all. Mr. Rowlandson, however, urged his suit so strenuously, and showed such strong reasons for immediate action, that a force of forty men, under Major Wadsworth, was sent to the relief of the endangered settlement. It was too late. On the loth of February, about sunrise, a large force of Indians suddenly appeared at Lancaster, and setting fire to the houses on the outskirts, killed such of the inmates as they found. The inhabitants, dreading such a visit, had made such preparation as they could by fortifying some of the stronger houses, and into these the people were gathered as speedily as possible. But all were unable to reach 400 ATTACK ON LANCASTER. 401 these places of refuge before the savages were upon them. Five per- sons were surprised in one house; the father and mother and an infant were killed, and two children were carried away as prisoners. Several were shot as. they ran, and their bodies treated with the greatest bar- barity in sight of their trembling neighbors. One man, seeing some Indians about his barn, went out to speak to them, and was shot. Burning houses and barns as they advanced, they at last came to the fortified houses. Climbing upon the barn of one of them, they fired down into the low fortification and killed three men before their move- ments were observed. With fearful yells they appeared in every direc- tion, discharging their guns at the houses in which the women and children were trembling with fear, while the men did their best to defend them. Mr. Rowlandson's house was one of those which were fortified, and in it were gathered some of the neighboring families, numbering, with his, thirty-seven persons. Mrs. Rowlandson's narrative of the attack and her subsequent captivity, which was written after her ransom, viv- idly describes the horrors of Indian warfare, and the sufferings of those who were so unfortunate as to fall into their hands as captives. It shows also the miserable condition to which the Indians were some- times reduced, and the Christian fortitude with which she endured her hardships. After describing the approach of the Indians, and the events men- tioned above, Mrs. Rowlandson's narrative continues: " At length they came and assaulted our house, such a doleful day my eyes never beheld before. The house stood upon the edge of a hill; some of the Indians got behind the hill, others into the barn, and others behind whatever would shelter them; from all which places they shot against the house, so that the bullets seemed to fly like hail, and soon they wounded one man among us, then another, and then a third. They had been about the house about two hours (according to my estimation in that amazing time) before they succeeded in setting it on fire, which they did with flax and hemp which they brought out of the barn. They set it on fire once, and one ventured out and quenched it; but they soon fired it again, and that kindled. Now the dreadful hour was come that I had often heard of others being called NO. xi. 51 MR S. ROWLANDSON'S CAPTIVITY. to, in time of war, but now mine own eyes saw it. Some in our house were fighting for their lives, while others were wallowing in their blood, the house being on fire over our heads, and the bloody savages were standing ready to bury the tomahawk in our heads if we stirred out. Now we could hear mothers and children crying out, ' Lord, what shall we do? ' I took my children, and one of my sisters hers, to go out and leave the house; but as soon as we made our appearance at the door, the Indians fired so fast that the bullets rattled against the house as if one had taken a handful of stones and thrown them, so that we were forced to give back. . . . But the fire increasing and roaring behind us, we must of necessity go out, though the Indians were gaping before us with their guns, spears, and hatchets to devour the prey. No sooner were we out of the house than my brother-in-law (having before been wounded, in defending the house, in or near the throat) fell down dead, at which the Indians scorn- fully shouted and halloed, and were presently upon him stripping off his clothes. The bullets flying thick, one of them went through my side, and the same through the bowels and hand of my poor child in my arms. One of my elder sister's children had his leg broken, which being perceived by the Indians, they knocked him on the head. Thus were we butchered by those merciless savages, the blood running down at our feet. My eldest sister being yet in the house, seeing the Indians hauling mothers one way and children another, and some wallowing in their blood, and being told that her son William was dead and that I was wounded, she exclaimed, f Lord, let me die with them!' No sooner had she said this than she was struck with a bullet, and fell down dead over the threshold. The Indians now laid hold on us, pull- ing me one way and the children another, saying, ' Come, go along with us.' I told them that they would kill me. They said if I was willing to go along with them they would not hurt me." The savages had triumphed. Of thirty-seven persons in the house but one escaped; twelve were killed, and the others, mostly women and children, were carried into captivity. The prisoners were divided among their captors, and having destroyed the greater part of the village, and night coming on, the assailants retired with their captives and booty. They withdrew about a mile, and then stopped for the night on a hill overlooking the desolated settlement. It was a terrible night for the DEATH OF THE WOUNDED CHILD. 403 captives, in the midst of their triumphant enemies. The rejoicing of the Indians over their exploits is thus described by Mrs. Rowlandson: " O, the roaring, and singing, and dancing, and yelling of those tawny creatures on that night! which made the place a lively resemblance of hell; and there was a sad waste made of horses, cattle, sheep, swine, calves, and fowls, which they had plundered in the town: some lay roasting, some burning, and some boiling, to feed our merciless enemies, who were joyful enough, though we were desolate." This improvident waste of food was characteristic of the savages, who shortly after were nearly starved. Suffering from the wound in her side, Mrs. Rowlandson was obliged to carry her more severely wounded child, who, being upwards of six years of age, was a heavy burden for her. The Indians permitted her to ride a part of the time, but otherwise they showed no pity for her sufferings or those of her child. Snow fell, and at night the unhappy captive was obliged to sit down in the snow before a little fire, with a few boughs behind her to shelter her from the wintry blast, and hold her poor fevered child through the long weary hours, without suste- nance, and with a heavy heart. The moaning of the child annoyed the Indians, and one after another came to her and told her that her master would soon come and knock the little sufferer on the head, thus adding to the grief and terror of the wretched mother. The threat, however, was not carried into execution, and for nine days the poor child lin- gered, carried constantly in her mother's arms, and receiving no suste- nance but a little water, while she daily grew weaker, till at last death put an end to her sufferings. The Indians buried the corpse, and had the grace to show the mourning mother the little grave. Anxiety for her children, who were also in the hands of the savages, added to the sorrows of her captivity, but several times her fears for their safety were relieved by brief interviews when they were in some neighboring village. The Indians, however, were always jealous of such interviews, and if any tears were shed were especially provoked, and separated the captives in a summary manner. Not long after Mrs. Rowlandson's capture a party of the Indians went to make an attack on Medfield, and their return from the suc- cessful expedition was celebrated with savage rejoicings. " They began 404 MRS. ROWLANDSON'S CAPTIVITT. their din," says the narrative, " when about a mile distant. O, the out- rageous roaring and whooping that there was! They signified by their noise and whooping how many were destroyed, which was twenty- three. Those who were with us at home were gathered together as soon as they heard the whooping, and every time the others went over with their number, those at home gave a shout that made the very earth ring again. And thus they continued to do until those who had been upon the expedition arrived at the sagamore's wigwam; then, O, the hideous insulting and triumphing there was over some English- men's scalps they had taken ! " But though this triumph of the savages over her countrymen added to the misery of the captive, it brought to her a source of consolation which sustained her through all her trials. One of the Indians gave her a Bible which was among his plunder; and cherishing that as the choicest of treasures, with pious trust in its counsels and promises, though she dared to read it only in secret, she found comfort and strength. The party of Indians with whom Mrs. Rowlandson was, soon after divided, and she was separated from her fellow-captives, among whom were her daughter, several children of her sisters, and one of her neigh- bors, a Mrs. Joslin. Upon this poor Avoman the savages afterwards indulged their cruelty in the most atrocious manner. She had with her a child two years old, and was soon to give birth to another. In her anxiety and distress she begged the Indians to let her go home, though she was many weary miles from the nearest settlement. Tired of her importunities, they gathered a large company, and setting her unclothed in the midst, they danced about her " in their hellish man- ner" for a long time, and then "knocked her and the child in her arms on the head." They then made a fire and put both the victims in it, threatening the other children, who with trembling witnessed the terrible scene, to serve them in like manner if they attempted to go home. One or two other vindictive murders of unfortunate prisoners were perpetrated, with only a little less atrocity, during Mrs. Rowlandson's captivity; but most of the captives, though they suffered terrible hard- ships, and were often treated with great cruelty, were spared so long as they did not murmur or sink in helpless sickness. There were some, however, whose fate was never known; and whether death came by STAR VA TION AND CR UEL TT. 405 the hatchet or the slower attacks of disease was only a matter of con- jecture. The severest suffering endured by the captives was the want of food. The Indians themselves were often reduced to the greatest straits, and the prisoners fared even worse than their captors. The food of the sav- ages was at first revolting to those who had been accustomed to the dishes of civilized life, but hunger soon made the small quantities allowed them more than palatable. But even these unsavory messes were often denied them, and Mrs. Rowlandson's narrative recounts many occasions when a few kernels of corn, or four or five ground- nuts, were her only food for days together. A piece of horse-liver, which was secreted in her pocket until it became loathsomely offensive, in order that it might not be taken from her, was devoured with avidity, and a few spoonfuls of weak broth made from horses' feet, which was grudg- ingly given her, was thankfully received as a slight relief to the pangs of hunger. Oftentimes she carried a small quantity of corn or peas for her mistress, but did not dare to partake of even the least quantity, lest she should provoke the wrath of the squaw and be treated to blows. Occasionally Mrs. Rowlandson was able to obtain a better supply of food by working for the savages, now and then making a shirt for some young Indian, or knitting or repairing stockings, for which she was paid by a gift from the limited stores of her employers. More often, how- ever, she was refused even the meanest allowance from the food pre- pared by her mistress, though her master was more generously disposed. Sometimes, driven with threats of violence from the cabin, she was obliged to seek shelter and food elsewhere; and though she was refused admittance to most of the neighboring wigwams, she found that not all the Indians, were devoid of humanity, and she was sometimes given a lodg- ing by their fire, and favored with a pittance of food by those who had little to give. Whenever she chanced to do anything that offended her captors, she was treated to blows or other punishment, especially at the hands of her mistress, who was much less tolerant than her master. Meanwhile the hopes which had sustained her that she would be rescued by the colonial troops, released on the payment of a ransom, or carried to Albany, were successively disappointed, and she began to despair of ever being restored to civilized life. At such times she 406 MRS. ROWLANDSON'S CAPTIVITY. had recourse to her Bible, which she cherished with the greatest care, concealing it from the jealous eyes of the Indians. On the banks of the Connecticut she met King Philip, who treated her kindly and with the dignity becoming a sachem. At his request she made his boy a shirt, for which he gave her a shilling. She also made him a cap, and for payment received an invitation to dine with the sachem. But the dinner was no very generous feast, and Philip appar- ently fared scarcely better than his half-famished followers. " I went," says Mrs. Rowlandson, " and he gave me a pancake, made of parched wheat fried in bears'-grease, about as large as my two fingers. I thought I never tasted of more pleasant food in my life." Philip's example induced other Indians to employ the captive in needlework or knitting, and she was thus able sometimes to obtain a better, though still mea- gre supply of food. At last the Indians moved eastward towards Wachusett, and soon the captives were encouraged with the hope of being ransomed. But the journey was a long and difficult one, with frequent halts and long delays, and a constant dearth of food. The Indians often had recourse to the refuse portions of dead horses, and Mrs. Rowlandson was only too glad to partake of a morsel of food that at other times would have been nauseating. The hope of final release, however, was a stronger sustenance than food. On one occasion her heart was gladdened by King Philip, who, as they approached Mount Wachusett, came to her, and taking her hand, said, " Two weeks more and you shall be mis- tress again." At Wachusett her master, who had been absent a long time, also appeared, and Mrs. Rowlandson relates an incident which illustrates the miserable life she must have led among her filthy cap- tors. " He inquired how long it was since I had washed me. I an- swered, not for months. He brought some water and told me to wash, and ordered his squaw to give me something to eat. She gave me some meat and some beans, and a small ground-nut cake. I was greatly refreshed by this kindness." Negotiations for the release of the captives were initiated by the Indians, who sent runners to Boston with proposals to that end. The messengers passed to and fro several times, and at last Mr. Hoar was sent as agent of the colonial authorities to pay the ransom demanded. THE CAPTIVE RANSOMED. 407 In reply to inquiries by the sagamores, Mrs. Rowlandson, with some misgivings lest she should name too little for their acceptance, or too much for her friends to raise, named twenty pounds as the sum which her husband would be able to pay for her release, and that sum was accepted. After some delay the ransom was paid, and Mrs. Rowland- son, with some others, was restored to her friends. But a number of the captives were still retained, among whom were Mrs. Rowlandson's children, the prolonged separation from whom, with a knowledge of what they must continue to suffer, clouded the joy for her own release. Happily her son was afterwards redeemed at Portsmouth, and her daughter at Providence. XLVIII. CONTINUATION AND END OF THE WAR. DEATH OF KING PHILIP. |T Lancaster, the Indians would doubtless have killed or taken captive more of the inhabitants but for the arrival of Wads worth, who had marched in all haste from Marlborough. With his small force he compelled the savages to retire. Soon after the town was abandoned, and the Indians then burned the remaining houses. The threat to attack other inland settlements was soon carried out. Before February had passed, Sudbury and Chelmsford were attacked, some of the houses burned, and several per- sons killed. At Medfield, before daybreak, the inhabitants were roused from their slumbers by the war-whoop of the savages, who burned half the town and killed twenty persons. Mendon had been deserted by its inhabitants, but their vacant houses were given to the flames by the enemy. Nor were the operations of the Indians confined to these inland towns: a hostile band came suddenly upon Weymouth, and burned seven or eight houses; and on the outskirts of Plymouth eleven whites were massacred. The Indians now appeared in various other quarters. Groton was attacked, and all its houses burned, though only one of its inhabitants was killed. At the same time an attack was made on Northampton, but was repulsed with some loss on both sides. Immediately after the savages appeared at Warwick, in Rhode Island, and destroyed all the houses but one, and the destruction of all the outlying houses in that region followed. While the good people of Marlborough were at 408 FRONTIER TOWNS ATTACKED. 409 church, the Indians came suddenly from their hiding-places and burned the town, so that it was also abandoned. At the same time a force of fifty whites and twenty friendly natives, who were sent by the Plymouth government to protect their frontier, were lured into an am- bush by Canonchet, the Narragansett sachem, and his followers, and all the English save one, and half the friendly Indians, were killed. Im- mediately afterwards forty houses were burned at Rehoboth, and nearly as many more in Providence. All through the spring the Indians continued their work of destruc- tion. Appearing in various quarters, watching the habits of the people, and falling suddenly upon the villages, they plundered and burned the houses, and killed or captured such of the inhabitants as they could surprise. Seekonk, Wrentham, Middleborough, and even Plymouth suffered in this way, while in the interior, Andover, Sudbury, and Chelmsford met with like misfortune. But the colonial governments were not idle, and in Massachusetts especially great efforts were made to raise forces to stop the ravages of the Indians. Men were impressed into the military service under the most stringent laws, and all possible means were adopted to put an adequate army into the field. Resuming the offensive, the colonial forces soon obtained some im- portant advantages over the Indians. A Connecticut force, under Cap- tain Denison, moving into the Narragansett country, fell in with the party who had returned from the massacre of the Plymouth force above mentioned, and killed and captured a considerable number. Among the prisoners was the sachem, Canonchet, whose treachery was deemed worthy of death, and he was accordingly delivered over to the tender mercies of the Mohegans. Denison achieved other successes, and ma- terially weakened the Narragansetts, several of whose chiefs were killed or captured. Though Marlborough was abandoned by its inhabitants, a force of seventy men, under Captain Wadsworth, was stationed there to keep the Indians back from settlements nearer Boston. Receiving informa- tion that the savages had appeared near Sudbury, Wadsworth hastened in the night to the relief of that place. In the morning he met a band of about a hundred Indians, who fled before his attack. He pursued them into the woods, where he encountered several hundred more, who NO. xi. 52 4 io CONTINUATION AND END OF THE WAR. attacked him fiercely. Retiring to a hill, he kept up the contest through the day, killing many of the enemy. But the Indians were too numer- ous for his small force, which grew weaker from the loss of many men. They set fire to the dry grass, and the flames spread rapidly through the woods, so that with the smoke and heat the English were nearly blinded and suffocated. The Indians, taking advantage of this, redoubled the fury of their attack, and at last the little force was obliged to seek safety in flight. Only twenty of them escaped; more than forty were slain, among whom were Wadsworth and his lieuten- ant; while five or six were taken prisoners, to be tortured to death in the most cruel manner. A month later, after a number of unimportant skirmishes at the out- posts of the troops stationed along the Connecticut River, another severe conflict, with varied success, took place near the falls above Greenfield. An escaped prisoner brought intelligence that a large number of Indians were planting and fishing in that vicinity; and Captain Turner, who commanded the colonial forces in the upper towns, determined to attack them. Taking a hundred and eighty mounted men, after a night march of twenty miles, he came upon an Indian camp just at daylight. The camp was so situated that it was necessary to dismount and make the attack on foot. Leaving their horses where they could not be seen by the unsuspecting savages, the party advanced in silence to the edge of the camp, and then poured into the wigwams a volley of musketry. The surprise was complete, and the Indians, unprepared to resist, sought safety in flight, but many of them were killed as they rushed pell-mell from their cabins. The}' crowded to the river, and some escaped in canoes, while others, attempting to swim across, were carried over the falls and drowned. Meanwhile the troops kept up a constant fire upon them, and many were shot on the banks of the river and in the water. Three hundred Indians perished in this successful attack; and the sol- diers completed their victory by setting fire to the cabins and destroy- ing the stores which the savages had collected in preparation of another raid. The colonial troops lost but one man in the conflict. From that day the place has been known as " Turner's Falls," in honor of the commander. But this victory was too soon followed by a reverse. The firing FAILURE OF THE INDIANS. 411 was heard by another body of Indians not far away, and they hastened to the scene of the conflict. The troops soon found themselves attacked by a large number of the savages, and they were obliged to retreat, fortunately reaching their horses before they were discovered by the enemy. They hastened back towards the settlements, but the Indians followed, and swarmed along the line of their march. An Indian pris- oner told them that Philip was in pursuit with a thousand men, and this intelligence created a panic. Captain Holyoke, the second in com- mand, protected the rear of the flying column, and achieved distinction by the skill with which he held the enemy in check. But the savages pressed so closely that the troops broke up into small parties, one of which was cut to pieces in a swamp, and another was captured and reserved for a more cruel fate. Turner was killed on the way, and the command devolved upon Holyoke, who succeeded in bringing the force back to Hatfield with a loss of forty men. Encouraged by their success, the Indians soon after made an attack on Hatfield, and burned several buildings; but a small force coming to the relief of the town, the assailants were driven off. A little later, seven hundred Indians made a similar attempt on Hadley. Their attack was planned with some skill: while one party made an open assault on one side of the settlement, another lay in ambush on the opposite side, ready to fall upon the flying inhabitants. But there was a con- siderable force in the place, and as the Indians gained an entrance within the palisades with which some of the houses were surrounded, a cannon quickly put them to flight. Suffering for want of any considerable supply of food, the Indians were unable to continue a campaign in which they had suffered heavy losses, and they broke up into small parties. Their loss at Turner's Falls was a severe blow, and previous to the attack on Hadley they had met with reverses near Brookfield, where the colonial forces took a considerable number of prisoners, while in several minor con- flicts many of them had bean killed or severely wounded. With their limited numbers these losses had seriously reduced their strength, and they began to tire of a war carried on by the whites in a manner so contrary to Indian habits. Philip and his followers made their way back to the region where they had long dwelt. The proud sachem, 412 CONTINUATION AND END OF THE WAR. though discouraged by his want of success where he had promised so much, was not yet disposed to make peace. The fate of Canonchet told him that he had. nothing to hope from the English if he surren- dered, and, full of bitterness, he resolved to attack and burn yet a few more towns. A negro who had been taken prisoner by Philip's men, and who understood their language, heard them planning an attack on Taunton. Making his escape, he communicated the intelligence to the people of that town. A force was promptly sent to its defence; and when the savages came, they succeeded in firing only two houses before they were put to flight. It was Philip's last campaign. His men were pursued and defeated on all sides, and in despair he retired to the woods of Mount Hope. Chafing under the restraint imposed by the colonists, he had persuaded the most formidable tribes of his countrymen to join him in an attempt to throw off a yoke which was becoming irksome. Ignorant how much the colonists exceeded his race in numbers, and the strength which civilization gives, with the aid of fire-arms he had counted on success. But the Nipmucks had been decimated, the strength of the Narragan- setts had been completely broken, and the tribes of the Connecticut had suffered heavy losses. And now these allies had deserted him, some to surrender to the English, and others to seek refuge and food in remote quarters. Even among his own followers there were traitors; and when with the remnant of his tribe he returned to the home of his fathers, there were some who were ready to make peace for themselves by betraying him. Captain Church, with a force from Plymouth, had pursued Philip's men, taking many prisoners, among whom were the sachem's wife and son. With his few remaining followers the defeated chief was shut up at Mount Hope, the English holding the isthmus, which afforded the only escape by land. One of his tribe at this time, to avenge the murder of a brother by Philip, offered to .lead the colonial troops to the sachem's hiding-place. Under the guidance of this Indian, Church marched a party of soldiers by night to the vicinity of Philip's camp, and concealed them in the bushes at such points as the Indians would be likely to pass. When morning disclosed the presence of this force, DEATH OF KING PHILIP. DEATH OF KING PHILIP. the panic-stricken natives rushed in disorder from, their camp to escape through the surrounding line, and many of them fell under the heavy fire of the English. Near one of the paths, Church had posted one of his soldiers and a friendly Indian. As the surprised Indians sought safety in flight, Philip, half dressed, came running at full speed along this path. Both men levelled their pieces at him. The Englishman's gun missed fire, but the Indian's took effect. Philip fell dead with a bullet through his heart. His hands were cut off and sent to Boston, and his head, exposed on a pole, cheered a public thanksgiving in Plymouth. With Philip's death the war was well-nigh ended. Of the remnants of his tribe who had escaped, some were pursued and killed, captured, or driven to seek refuge with the Mohawks, while others voluntarily surrendered. Peace was once more established in Massachusetts and Plymouth, though the eastern tribes, prompted by Philip's bad ex- ample, still waged a cruel war in Maine. During the war ten or twelve towns in these two colonies had been wholly destroyed, and forty others had been more or less damaged by fire. Five or six hun- dred men, besides many women and children, had been massacred, or fallen in battle, or carried into captivity from which few escaped. Every town was filled with mourners; and though Philip had failed in his purpose, he had inflicted a terrible blow upon the colonists. He had called into action the bloodthirstiness, the treachery, the cruelty, all the evil passions of the savages, and let them loose upon the defenceless homes of the settlers. Thus inflamed to madness, the barbarians had shot unsuspecting men, applied the torch to dwellings, torn wives from their husbands and children from their mothers, and doomed them to the most cruel tortures of body and mind. They had dashed out the brains of babes, and with slow fires had burned their wounded cap- tives. They had carried away into a captivity from which they never returned, children whose hard and unknown fate was to their parents worse than death. Every evil that the cruelty and vindictiveness of savages could invent was practised in their warfare. Bereavement, loss of homes, ruin, wounds, were the dire results of such warfare to a large number of the whites. But upon his own race Philip had brought a retribution not less terrible. XLIX. MASSACRES AND CAPTIVITIES. j ING PHILIP'S war brought to the New England col- onists their first experiences in Indian warfare and cru- elty. For a long time afterwards, with intervals of quiet, the frontier settlements were subject to occasional out- rages from the savages; and hostilities with the French exposed them to more dangerous and fearful attacks from the Indian allies of the enemy. While these events generally do not come within the proposed limits of this work, a few incidents in the history of one of the frontier towns will illustrate the dangers to which their inhabitants were exposed, and the cruelty they suffered. Haverhill, or Pentucket, as the locality was called by the Indians, was for a long time a frontier settlement. To the north and west there were no towns between it and the wilderness occupied by native tribes, or traversed at will by the bands of Canadian savages. It was first set- tled about 1640, and towards the close of the century it was a some- what thriving settlement, containing a considerable number of houses scattered over a wide tract, on which were some good farms. During King Philip's war the town escaped any general attack, though several of its people were killed, and others were carried into captivity by some of the treacherous " praying Indians " who dwelt near by. For more than ten years afterwards the inhabitants were disturbed by noth- ing worse than theft and injury to property by the Indians. About 1688, however, the natives again indulged in hostilities, and small parties 414 FRENCH AND INDIAN WAR. 4*5 hovered around Haverhill, threatening the destruction of the more exposed houses and the massacre of their inmates. For the protection of the people, six of the stronger houses were garrisoned, and four others were designated as places of refuge in case of danger. But though in constant fear of an attack, the people of Haverhill were more fortunate than some of the towns in New Hampshire and Maine. Between 1690 and 1697, during the war between England and France known as King William's war, and during Queen Anne's war which soon followed, many of the frontier towns towards the north were at- tacked by roving bands of Indians, allies of the French, and Haverhill at last did not escape. This war was waged with characteristic cruelty by the Indians. Infants were dispatched with hasty cruelty, but older children, who were able to travel without becoming an incumbrance, were carried away to be adopted into the tribe and grow up as sav- ages. Some, however, were carried to Canada, where they were ran- somed by the French, and placed under the influence of priests or nuns, a fate which was as deeply deplored by their Puritan friends as captivity among the Indians. Men and women who were fortunate enough to be ransomed by the French generally succeeded in returning to their homes. In 1694, several towns in New Hampshire were attacked by a for- midable force of Indians, among them the settlement of Oyster River, or Durham, where ninety persons were killed or carried away as pris- oners. The people of Haverhill expected an attack, and made prep- arations for defence, but they experienced no more serious alarm than that created by a sentinel in one of the garrisons, who, during his watch, seeing a dark object near the house supposed it was an Indian. He promptly discharged his musket at it, and the rest of the garrison, being aroused, fired a volley at the suspicious object. But no more Indians appeared, and this one must certainly be dead, though he ap- parently maintained a pretty upright position for a man pierced by bullets. In the morning it was found that what was taken for a prowl- ing Indian was an innocent black petticoat which had been hung out to dry the previous afternoon. It was not till 1697 that a serious attack was made on the town. Early in March of that year a band of Indians appeared suddenly at MASSACRES AND CAPTIVITIES. Haverhill and attacked some of the more exposed houses, killing and taking prisoners about forty of the inmates, and burning the buildings. The incidents attending the movements of one of the parties of assail- ants are especially memorable, and are familiar to the readers of New England history. As this party advanced from one scene of their cruel exploits, they were seen by Mr. Dustan, who was at work in his field. They were moving towards his house, and while they were yet at some distance he hastened thither with the hope of saving his family by hurrying them to a garrisoned house. His family consisted of his wife, who was in bed with an infant only a week old, her nurse, and seven other children. He bade the children fly with all the speed they were capable of in the direction opposite to that from which the Indians were approaching, while he remained to assist his wife. Al- ready the yells of the savages were heard coming nearer and nearer, and before Mrs. Dustan could be dressed they were almost at the door. Alone, the anxious husband could not defend his house, and it was too late to save his wife. But his little children, who were flying for their lives, might yet be protected; and seizing his gun he hurried from the house, mounted his horse, and followed them. The yells of the assail- ants told him that they saw him and were coming in pursuit. Despair- ing of saving his little flock, whom he saw not far away on the road to a place of refuge, he resolved to take the one with whom he was most unwilling to part, and hasten on, leaving the rest to their fate. The youngest was but five years old, and the others, notwithstand- ing their fright, unwilling to desert their pet, had adapted their speed to the steps of the panting little one, so that they had made scanty progress. When the anxious father came up with them, he found he loved them all too well to choose only one for safety, that each was too dear for him to leave any to become victims to the merciless savages, while he himself escaped. He determined, therefore, to defend them all, or perish with them. His pursuers had already commenced firing at him. Encouraging the terrified children to keep on at their utmost speed, he returned the fire, and reloading his gun as he retreated, he kept up his fire with such effect that he held the cowardly enemy in check. Alter- nately firing and retreating, as fast as the weary limbs of the little ones could carry them, he kept the pursuers at bay, and notwithstanding the MRS. DUSTAN A CAPTIVE. 417 repeated discharge of their guns, both he and the children fortunately escaped all injury. At last, after a flight of more than a mile, the fugitives reached a fortified house where they happily found safety; and the Indians, never anxious to attack unless they greatly outnum- bered their opponents, withdrew to plunder and burn the houses they had already taken. While one party of the Indians had thus pursued Mr. Dustan and his children, another entered the house, where they found Mrs. Dustan partially dressed, and the nurse preparing to fly with the infant. With fierce threats they compelled the terrified women to quit the house without further preparation, and hurried them away to join a number of other prisoners. The hostile band had now accomplished all they could without resistance, and, Indian fashion, they withdrew as sud- denly as they had come. With their captives they began their march into the wilderness. Mrs. Dustan was a woman of strong will, and not- withstanding her feeble condition, her terror, and her anxiety for her children, she bore up with remarkable energy. The terrible position in which she found herself seemed to give her strength rather than weaken her. Partially clad, with one of her feet bare, she travelled on through alternate snow and mud, in the chilly wind of March, enduring hardships under which captives of more robust health and apparent vigor often succumbed. She was soon compelled to endure a greater cruelty than travelling barefooted through the slush and mud, under the taunts of her inso- lent captors. The nurse carried the infant, but they had not proceeded far before an Indian, who was annoyed by its cries, seized it, and before its mother's eyes dashed its head against a tree. The terror and anguish of the mother at this sight may be imagined, but her very terror gave her strength to continue the march. And it was well that it did, for the Indians, impatient at delays, summarily tomahawked those who lagged behind. Notwithstanding her feeble condition and the fatiguing march through snow and mud, Mrs. Dustan bore up with remarkable vigor, sleeping on the cold ground with no protection but a few pine boughs, and having little food to sustain her. Her nurse fortunately showed a similar endurance. Fear gave them strength, for they knew that a show of weakness or exhaustion would insure a speedy death. NO. xi. 53 418 MASSACRES AND CAPTIVITIES. After travelling several days over rocky hills and through miry swamps, the party reached the wigwam of the Indian who claimed them as his captives. Here in the crowded cabin they remained some time, during which the prisoners recovered from their fatigue. In the month of April the Indians, twelve in number, two athletic men, three women, and seven children of various ages, set out for a more distant settlement of their tribe, carrying their captives with them. The unfor- tunate women were informed by the Indians, with evident satisfaction, that upon their arrival at this settlement they would be obliged to run the gantlet, naked, between two files of Indians, the entire population of the town forming on either side, and scourging them as the}' ran. This cruel treatment of captives was customary with some of the na- tive tribes, and often ended in the death of the unfortunate victims. The dread of this ordeal determined the women to attempt to escape before it was too late. But how to do so was a difficult question to decide. Should they steal away and seek safety in flight, the more fleet-footed Indians would soon overtake them and bring them back to suffer tortures all the more cruel. If they sought to conceal them- selves, the cunning savages would be sure to track them to their hiding- place. There was no safety so long as there were any savages to pursue; and Mrs. Dustan, in her extreme horror at her impending fate, was nerved with a desperate resolution. Besides the two women, the Indians had another captive, a boy, who had been their prisoner for a longer time, and had with the facility of youth become familiar with their habits, and somewhat reconciled to his condition. Mrs. Dustan desired this boy to ask his master where was the proper place to strike a person on the head to insure death, and how to take off" a scalp. The Indian, who was probably pleased with the boy's apparent desire to become proficient in savage arts, will- ingly imparted the desired information. It was secretly communicated to Mrs. Dustan, who resolved to profit by it at once. The savages evidently had no fears, now that they were in the depths of the wilderness, that their captives would attempt to escape, and at night they all slept without leaving any one of their number to watch. Around the fire over which they had cooked their evening meal they stretched themselves to rest. The captives also lay down according to MRS. DUSTAN' S EXPLOIT. their custom, but not to sleep. Mrs. Dustan had imparted to them her desperate purpose, and they lay quietly, but anxiously listening for the heavy breathing which should tell that the savages were in a deep sleep, made more heavy by draughts of "fire-water" in which they had indulged. The moment for action had come, and Mrs. Dustan cau- tiously roused her companions. Taking a hatchet which lay beside the sleeping Indians, she stepped softly among them, and by the faint light of the flickering brands, dealt a fatal blow upon one and then another, so quietly and surely that they made no struggle. The nurse and the boy followed her example, and the three had dispatched nearly all when a groan from one of the victims aroused two of the sleepers, one of whom was a woman, and the other a small boy whom they pro- posed to spare. The woman was wounded, and both fled in terror into the woods. Mrs. Dustan in her desperation had imbibed the spirit of a savage, and in order to prove her terrible work, with the aid of her compan- ions she proceeded to take the scalps from her fallen foes. There were ten of them, and with these bloody trophies they started, taking a gun and ammunition belonging to one of the dead Indians, and such small supply of food as they could hastily snatch from the pouches of their victims. With all speed they travelled towards the Merrimac, and thence down its banks till they found a canoe. Fear, lest the woman who escaped should alarm some of the natives and cause pursuit, added to the speed of their flight. They were so fortunate, how- ever, as to escape pursuit, and not to fall in with any wandering party of Indians. They embarked in the canoe, and floating down the river at last reached Haverhill, much to the astonishment of their friends and neighbors, who had supposed them killed. Mrs. Dustan had also feared that her husband and children had been butchered by the Indians, and the joy with which they met again may be imagined. The bloody scalps were exhibited as a proof of the remarkable exploit, which was noised through all the colonies, and brought to Mrs. Dustan many congratulations. The General Court, in acknowledgment of her bravery and the hardships she had endured, gave her twenty-five pounds, and divided between her companions a like sum. In later years a monument in commemoration of her heroism has been erected at Haverhill. 4 20 MASSACRES AND CAPTIVITIES. Some years after the exploit of Mrs. Dustan, in 1708, Haverhill was again attacked by a band of French and Indians. They appeared sud- denly at dawn of day in the village, and separated into several parties the more quickly to dispatch their bloody work. They had been seen by one of the inhabitants who was abroad early, and he had fired his gun to alarm his neighbors. Though they had feared such an attack, and some of the houses were "garrisoned" by three or four soldiers each, all seem to have slept as if there were no danger, and the sav- ages were at their work before they were aroused. Having killed one woman as she fled to one of the garrisoned houses, the foremost party next made an attack on the house of the Rev. Mr. Rolfe, the minis- ter of the town. Mr. Rolfe and his family were aroused from their slumbers by the yells of the savages. Springing from his bed, he placed himself against the outer door, upon which the assailants were already beating, at the same time calling upon three soldiers, placed in the house to defend it, to come to his assistance. But these cowards were paralyzed with fear, and instead of making any attempt to defend the house, threw up their arms in despair. The Indians, who might have been driven off by these poltroons had they shown any courage, fired two shots through the door, one of which wounded Mr. Rolfe in the elbow. Unable longer, in consequence of pain and exhaustion, to hold the door against the assailants, he fled through the house and out the rear door, pursued by the Indians, who overtook him at the well and killed him. Others of the savages entering the house, soon dis- covered Mrs. Rolfe with an infant child, and while one buried his hatchet in the head of the mother, another dashed the infant's head against a stone. The other children of Mr. Rolfe were preserved by the prompt action of a negro servant, who at the first alarm carried them to the cellar, where she covered each with a large tub and then concealed herself. The. enemy did not overlook the cellar, but plundered it of everything valuable, and repeatedly passed the tubs under which the children were concealed, and took meat from a barrel behind which the black girl was hiding, but fortunately none were discovered in the dim light of the place. Another girl, who was an inmate of the house, also escaped by hiding in a chest. The cowardly soldiers, however, HA VERHILL A GAIN A TTA CKED. 421 seem not to have had sufficient energy to attempt to save themselves, and they were soon dispatched by the Indians. Meanwhile the other parties of savages were at work. Mr. Benja- min Hartshorne, seeing one of them approaching his house, started out, followed by his three sons, to call assistance, but every one of them was killed. His wife, with three or four other children, was left de- fenceless in the house, but with great presence of mind took her chil- dren, except an infant, whose cries she feared might reveal their hiding-place, and descended through a trap-door into the cellar, care- fully closing it after her. There they remained undisturbed while the Indians plundered the house above. The infant was left on a bed in the garret, and when the savages discovered it, they tossed it out the window. But, fortunately, under the window there was a pile of clap- boards, on which the child so fell that it was not seriously injured, and lived to become a stalwart man. Other houses were attacked by similar parties of the savages, and some of their inmates killed. One mother, flying from the house where her husband had been shot, with her infant in her arms, was over- taken by a fierce Indian and dispatched by a blow from his hatchet. With a mother's instinct she fell in a way to protect her child from injury. The savage unaccountably passed on without dashing out the child's brains, as was their custom, and after the massacre it was found alive on the bosom of its dead mother. A Mrs. Wainwright successfully resorted to artifice to save her fam- ily. The house was garrisoned by several soldiers, who, in the cham- bers, were preparing to defend it; but Mrs. Wainwright boldly unbarred the door and let the Indians in. She spoke to them kindly, and offered to furnish them with whatever they desired. The ferocity of the Indians was overcome by their amazement at this conduct, and they attempted no violence. They had learned the value of money, and they demanded that she should make good her offer by furnishing it. She promised to bring it, and being permitted to retire for that purpose, she took advantage of the opportunity and fled from the house with all her children except one daughter, who unfortunately was left behind, and was carried away to a captivity from which she never returned. When they found how they had been outwitted, the Indians were MASSACRES AND CAPTIVITIES. greatly enraged, and attacked the chambers with violence; but the sol- diers succeeded in driving them away and extinguishing the fire which they had kindled for the destruction of the house. Another woman, a Mrs. Swan, exhibited a sterner courage. As the Indians approached, Swan and his wife placed themselves against the narrow door to prevent their entrance, hoping to keep them at bay till assistance arrived, and thus save the lives of their children. Finding the door was not easily opened, two of the Indians braced themselves against it and pushed with all their strength, which proved too great for the besieged. The door yielded a little, and one of the savages was crowding himself in, when Mrs. Swan, knowing if they gained an en- trance that she, and her husband, and little ones would speedily be butchered, seized a long spit, such as was used in those days, and with all her strength drove it through the body of the foremost Indian. This unexpected resistance staggered the assailants. The wounded savage, howling with pain, hastily retreated, and the others followed, afraid to encounter so formidable a weapon. Meanwhile the people of the town were alarmed, and a force of armed men soon gathered. The Indians were always averse to a pitched battle, especially with anything like an equal force to oppose them, and the French who were with them do not appear to have taken an active part in the attack. As soon as organized resistance appeared, the enemy beat a hasty retreat, taking with them a number of prison- ers. The Haverhill men pursued, and had a skirmish in which they killed several of the Indians and retook some of the captives, but the greater part of the enemy were soon beyond pursuit. Such was the fearful warfare waged by the northern tribes, insti- gated by the French, upon the frontier settlements of New England during King William's war. Deerfield, Lancaster, and other exposed towns were attacked, and suffered in a similar manner. At Deerfield and Lancaster the French were as numerous as their Indian allies, and encouraged the latter in their savage and cruel practices. The settle- ments in Maine and New Hampshire fared even worse." The events above narrated illustrate the dangers to which all these frontier settlers were exposed, and the endurance and heroism displayed even by the women who were inured to the hardships of the early days. THE BOT CAPTIVES. 4 2 3 The sufferings of those who were so unfortunate as to be taken cap- tive by the Indians have already appeared in the foregoing narrative and in the story of Mrs. Rowlandson. The men who were taken were treated with the greatest cruelty, and were in many cases tortured to death or summarily dispatched by their enraged captors. Women fared a little better, but were often subjected to the severest trials of physical and mental endurance. Children, who were less feared, and who were less likely to attempt to escape, were generally spared the worst inflic- tions of savage malignity, and were sometimes treated with such kind- ness as the barbarous life of the natives could bestow. But even this was little better than cruelty to those who were torn from the comforts of a civilized home and the love and tender care of parents and friends. With the facility of youth to adapt itself to circumstances, captive chil- dren sometimes became inured to Indian life, forgetting the habits and affections of earlier years, and becoming little better than savages. Dm'ing the French and Indian war many were carried to Canada, where they were sold to the French, and were subsequently ransomed and restored to their families. A few escaped, but the difficulties which attended any attempt to fly were too great for the shrewdness and skill of children alone to overcome, and the severe punishment which would follow failure might well deter stouter hearts. The story is told, however, of two boys who were carried off from Haverhill, who outwitted their cunning masters and found their way back through the trackless wilderness to their homes. While at work in the fields, or gathering nuts in the woods, these boys, Isaac Bradley and Joseph Whittaker, were surprised by a roving band of Indians, who, without committing any further violence by which their presence might have been known, carried them rapidly away. Isaac was fifteen years old, rather small for one of his age, but strong and active, and very intelligent. Joseph was several years younger, and the very reverse of his companion, being an overgrown boy, clumsy in his movements, and lacking energy both of body and mind. The In- dians travelled northward with their captives till they reached Lake Winnipiseogee, where the boys were taken into the cabin of one of their captors. Here they fared as well as the Indians themselves, and were not ill used, according to the standard of savage life, Isaac being nursed through a raging fever by his master's squaw. 424 MASSACRES AND CAPTIVITIES. Isaac soon acquired a knowledge of the Indian language; and one day in winter, while he lay convalescent on a mat before the fire, he overheard the Indians talking of going to Canada in the spring and taking their captives with them. He knew little of geography, and less of the chances of escape through the good will or avarice of the French who might buy them; but he knew that Canada was still farther from his home and parents, and distance seemed to render their captivity more hopeless. He resolved that he would attempt to escape, even at the peril of his life, and from that time forward he revolved in his mind various plans by which he could accomplish his purpose. The snows were fast disappearing even in the shady ravines, and the blue waters of the lake appeared in the broader expanses between its many islands; and Isaac felt that he had no time to lose, for the Indians would soon be moving on their long journey. He had matured his plan, and fixed upon a night for putting it in execution; and it was not till the day before the appointed night that he told his fellow- captive of his purpose. Joseph begged that he might go with him, and not be left alone in that terrible captivity. But he was a heavy sleeper, and not easily aroiised, and Isaac was fearful that he would not awake without disturbing their Indian master or his squaw, and thus defeat the plan. To leave him, however, if the plan was success- ful, would be cruel, and he agreed to let him share the chances of escape. At night the whole family lay down to sleep. Joseph was soon snoring lustily, as usual; but Isaac's thoughts were full of his scheme, with its difficulties and its dangers, and he lay anxiously waiting for the moment when he could attempt its execution. At last the heavy and regular breathing of the Indians assured him that they were wrapped in profound slumber. Rising cautiously, he secured his master's flint and tinder for striking a light, and a small quantity of moose meat, the position of which he had carefully noted the evening before, and, car- rying them out of the cabin, concealed them in some bushes. He then returned to awake Joseph, who was still sleeping soundly, and cau- tiously shook him. But the tired boy had in his sleep forgotten the scheme which had so engrossed his companion's thoughts, and he said, petulantly and aloud, "What do you want?" Alarmed lest the Indians PERILS ESCAPED. 425 should be waked, Isaac lay down again and pretended to sleep till he felt sure that they were unconscious of the noise. He could not relinquish the purpose on which his thoughts had so long dwelt, and to attempt to wake Joseph was to endanger its success, and might insure a fearful punishment. It was perhaps the last and only chance he would have, and he resolved to attempt to escape alone. He stepped carefully out of the wigwam and proceeded with caution to the place where he had hidden his small store of provisions. The waning moon was just risen above the hills, and afforded light sufficient for him to find his way without difficulty, and he determined to travel with all speed. While pausing to take up his provisions he heard footsteps, and trembled with fear as he supposed his design had been thus early dis- covered. He was equally surprised and relieved, however, to see Joseph approaching alone. The latter had been moved by some mysterious influence to awake, and finding his companion gone, he arose and hastened after him. Listening a moment to learn if any one else had been disturbed, the two then started on their perilous journey. They knew only that they must travel southward through the pathless forest, and in that direction they hastened on with speed prompted by an intense desire to escape, and fear of the consequences should they be overtaken. They thus hurried on till daylight, when, weary, and afraid of being seen if they continued their journey, they concealed themselves in a hollow log. Morning was not far advanced when they heard the dis- tant barking of dogs, which gradually came nearer. It was evident that their flight had been discovered and the Indians were in pursuit. The dogs came nearer, and at last made a stand at the log and barked furiously. Well might the fugitives be terrified at the threatened dis- covery; but Isaac had sufficient presence of mind to speak to the dogs, which recognized his voice and ceased barking. He then threw to them the moose-meat to distract their attention from the hiding-place, and they were busy with the dainty food when several Indians came along and passed close by the log without pausing to notice the dogs, or examining, with their usual care, for the trail of the fugitives. The dogs soon trotted after their master, and the terror of the boys subsided. Lying in the log through the day, with only a little corn bread to NO. xi. 54 426 MASSACRES AND CAPTIVITIES. appease their hunger, they again started on their journey at night. In the darkness, before the moon rose, they travelled with much difficulty, the thick bushes tearing their flesh, and the jagged rocks or soft mo- rasses delaying their weary limbs. At daylight they again found a hiding-place, and through the day they rested, and slept in spite of their anxiety. Night called them again to pursue their journey, and hope and fear alike urged them on. They now believed that pursuit had been abandoned, though there was still danger of meeting some roving band of natives, who would surely carry them back to captivity, and perhaps to death. But they were so anxious to hurry on that they travelled day and night, pausing to rest only when their weary and mangled limbs refused to carry them. Their moose-meat had been sacrificed to quiet the dogs, and their bread had been soon exhausted; but they killed a pigeon, and captured a turtle, both of which they were compelled to devour raw. These, with roots and buds, were all the sustenance they had; and the pangs of hunger were added to the pains of lacerated and swollen limbs, and they grew weaker day by day. But thoughts of home, and the hope of again seeing their par- ents, and brothers, and sisters, sustained them, and they persevered in making short stages till the eighth day of their flight. Then the younger boy could travel no farther. Weary with the long and laborious jour- ney, and weak from the want of food, his limbs refused to carry him, and he no longer had the will to proceed. Isaac, whose native energy still sustained his weakened body, endeavored to encourage him. He dug roots for him to eat, and brought water for him to drink, but the poor boy was too feeble in mind and body to be aroused to any fur- ther effort. He lay down in apathetic despair; and Isaac, unable to help him, and feeling that he, too, must succumb if he did not soon find help, with a sorrowful heart left his companion, hoping against hope that some relief might yet reach him before it was too late. They had for several days been following a stream which Isaac knew must eventually lead to the sea-coast, where he might hope to reach some settlement. Alone he now proceeded along its banks, sor- rowing for his helpless companion, and with a will much stronger than his weary limbs. He had not travelled far before he saw, at some distance, a newly-raised frame of a building. Rejoiced at this discov- SAFETY AT LAST. 427 ery, which told him that he was not far from some settlement, he retraced his steps to the spot where he had left his feeble mate. He found Joseph still lying as he had left him, utterly despairing of help, and too weak even to lament his unhappy fate. He told what he had seen, and aroused Joseph's hope; and after rubbing his limbs for a long time, he succeeded in getting the poor boy upon his feet. Assist- ing him to walk, and sometimes carrying him upon his back, he encouraged him with hopes of speedy relief. Thus, with slow and laborious steps, they proceeded till night again overtook them; but they saw a light in the distance, and were encouraged to exert all their remaining strength. At last they reached a settlement, and utterly ex- hausted, emaciated, with bleeding limbs, they were kindly taken care of at Saco Fort. Eight days and nights they had travelled through the trackless wilderness, with scarce any food save one pigeon, a small turtle, and a few roots. What a relief it was, after their long captivity and weary journey, to find themselves once more among people of their own race, escaped from their captors, and safe from pursuit ! They were kindly cared for, and Isaac soon recovered his strength sufficiently to find his way from settlement to settlement till he reached his home in Haverhill, where he was welcomed as one restored from the dead. Joseph, younger and more exhausted, was seized with a violent fever immediately upon his arrival at the fort, and for a long time his recovery was doubtful. Before he was able to travel, his father, hearing from Isaac the joyful news of his escape, arrived at the fort to carry him back to the tender embraces of his mother. L. ROYAL TYRANNY IN NEW ENGLAND, AND THE SPIRIT OF LIBERTY. OW the Virginia colonists were animated with the spirit of civil liberty, which led them to resist the oppres- sion of Sir William Berkeley, has been related in a previous chapter. All the colonists from England brought with them a high sense of their rights as Englishmen. The people of New England were especially strenuous in their assertion and maintenance of their rights and privileges. From the first, they asserted their independence of the mother country in many respects, though in others they acknowledged allegiance to the home govern- ment. The Massachusetts colony had, under its charter, managed its own affairs, and its example had been followed by those colonies which were its offshoots. During the existence of the English commonwealth, the sympathy between the colonists and the dominant party of the mother country had secured them from the application of the Naviga- tion Acts of Parliament to their commerce, and not until the restoration of the Stuarts did they experience any serious interference with the rights and privileges which they had claimed and enjoyed. If they were sometimes called to answer complaints against their conduct, they had never yielded any precious right, or abandoned any valuable privilege. When the commonwealth crumbled, and the monarchy was restored under Charles II., the people of New England were in no haste to 428 ROTAL COMMISSIONERS IN NEW ENGLAND. 429 acknowledge the king, from whom, they were justly fearful they could expect no special favor. They hoped for a counter revolution, which should restore the Puritan commonwealth; but when it was certain that the monarchy was firmly established, they acknowledged allegiance, as formerly, to the king, and took measures to secure from him a recog- nition of the rights they had hitherto enjoyed. While seeking such a recognition from the king, the people of Massachusetts were none the less determined jealously to maintain those rights, and to yield nothing of the privileges granted by their charter. They soon had an opportunity to show how firm was their resolution. The Puritan colony, which was an epitome of the commonwealth, could not be allowed to exist undisturbed. Royal commissioners were sent to regulate the affairs of New England. They came with a fleet fitted out to reduce the Dutch settlements on the Hudson, and estab- lish the claim of the Duke of York, afterwards James II., to that ter- ritory; and after arranging that business, they were to inquire into the manner in which the charters of New England had been exercised, and were invested with discretionary powers " to provide for the peace of the country." The commissioners were received with coldness by the people of Massachusetts, who were not disposed to trust to the discretion of royal agents. They were determined not to allow any entering-wedge to be driven into their political fabric, which should open the way for tyranny, and they took a stand on their chartered rights before the commission- ers attempted to exercise the authority with which they were invested. To show their loyalty to the king, the general court voted to raise men for the expedition against the Dutch settlements. The authority of the commissioners to interfere in the affairs of the colony was scru- pulously denied. Without accomplishing more in Massachusetts than to test the constant determination of the colonists to maintain their chartered rights, the commissioners proceeded with the fleet to the Hudson, where their proceedings will be mentioned in a subsequent chapter. While affairs in New York were in process of settlement, the com- missioners visited Connecticut, where they seem to have adopted the* policy of dividing the colonies in sentiment; and in order to play off 43 o ROTAL TTRANNT, AND THE SPIRIT OF LIBERTT. Connecticut against Massachusetts, they adopted a conciliatory course. In the settlement of the boundary between that colony and New York, and in other matters, they deferred to the wishes of Connecticut, and thus secured the good-will of the people. The younger Winthrop, by his ability, accomplishments, and influence at court, had recently suc- ceeded in obtaining from Charles II. a liberal charter, under which the colonies of Hartford and New Haven were united. Though the union was not at first regarded with favor by New Haven, the favor- able terms of the charter had the natural effect of making the people generally loyal to the monarch who had thus manifested his one merit of good-nature towards them or their admirable agent. No dislike of the commission was manifested by the magistrates or people, and in their report to the king, the commissioners praised the " dutifulness " of Connecticut, in contrast with the disaffection of Massachusetts. In Rhode Island, the commissioners met with a like favorable recep- tion. Through the favor of the king, and the devoted efforts of Clarke, that colony had also recently received a charter of remarkable liberality. The people, always loyal, and dependent on the mother country, had no fears that so recent a grant would be disturbed; and they doubtless hoped to derive some advantage from the commission, which might put them in a position of equality with the other colonies. The com- missioners, therefore, found nothing of which to complain, and much to commend. Meanwhile they were engaged in a controversy with Massachu- setts, whose government would not submit to their interference in its affairs. Plymouth, weak in numbers and wealth, but strong in the love of independence, was no more disposed to submit than her more pow- erful neighbor. The commissioners promised a much desired charter, if the people would recognize the royal prerogative, and allow the king to select their governor. The general assembly took the propo- sition into respectful consideration, but remembering the independence and quiet they had hitherto enjoyed, they replied, with strong protesta- tions of loyalty to the king, that they preferred to continue under the simple form of government which they then had. The calm and defer- ential, though firm manner in which their proposals were met, afforded the commissioners no opportunity for a quarrel, however much they may have been nettled at their failure. A CONFLICT OF AUTHORITY. But in Massachusetts they found a different temper. The first settlers had brought with them a charter which they regarded as the palladium of their liberties. Under it they had governed themselves, and maintained an independence of the mother country, prospering as no other colony had prospered. Government and people were jealous of any interference which might in any degree invalidate their charter, and the commissioners had a sorry time in asserting their authority. Nothing substantial was yielded by the colonists, and their firmness .led to a series of bitter disputes. At last, the commissioners tired of their unavailing efforts to coax the obstinate Puritans, and of argument in which they were continually worsted resolved to assert the author- ity with which the royal commission invested them. They publicly announced their intention to hold a court to decide some of the questions over which they claimed to have jurisdiction. A case was made up, and the colony was cited to appear as defend- ant. This was an assumption of their prerogative which the general court could not tolerate, and they forbade the proceedings, and disre- garded the summons. The commissioners, in turn, paid no heed to the general court, and persisted in their course. The general court had long been supreme in Massachusetts, and they proposed to remain so. They therefore prepared to measure strength with the meddlers. The day appointed for the trial arrived, and the commissioners, with due ceremony, prepared to hold their court and proceed with the cause. But they found their match in the stubborn colonists. The people were all astir, indignant at the attempt to override their charter, and anxious to learn what was to be the result of the controversy. While they awaited the hour appointed by the commissioners for the trial, a herald appeared and sounded a trumpet. The crowd gathered in all haste about him as he made a public proclamation, in the name of the king and by authority of the charter, to all the people of the colony, that, " in observance of their duty to God, to the king, and to their constituents, the general court could not suffer any to abet his majesty's honorable commissioners in their proceedings." A murmur of approval ran through the crowd; and the herald proceeded to two other places where, with a like flourish of the trumpet, he repeated the solemn proclamation. This measure had the desired effect; the 43 2 ROYAL TYRANNY, AND THE SPIRIT OF LIBERTY. proclamation of the general court was not to be disregarded; neither defendant nor witnesses, nor even spectators, attended the court of the commissioners, who found themselves only the objects of ridicule. Disgusted with their want of success, and with the obstinacy of Massachusetts, which they could overcome neither by fear nor favor, the commissioners abandoned the contest, and proceeded to New Hamp- shire, where the influence of Massachusetts followed them; and to Maine, where they found more favor, but still experienced the opposition of the elder colony. Then followed a long controversy, which was trans- ferred to England, whither some of the leading men of Massachusetts were summoned to negotiate concerning the claims of the colony to Maine, and to answer for the contumacy of the general court. At last, the corrupt and sensual court of Charles II. was too much engrossed with its pleasures to care much for the far-off Puritan colony, whose high notions of its chartered rights profligate courtiers could not under- stand. New England affairs were neglected for the more pleasing intrigues of a licentious court, and New England prospered by the neglect. Then followed King Philip's war, which was fought through with- out any aid from the mother country. The war, indeed, served only to attract the attention of the English ministry once more to the refrac- tory Puritan colony. While the people of Massachusetts were yet suf- fering from its effects, and the savages were still practising their cruelties in Maine, Edward Randolph was sent as a royal messenger to reopen the dispute as to jurisdiction. Massachusetts was becoming too powerful, and her influence must be circumscribed; and her right to jurisdiction over New Hampshire and Maine was denied by the privy council. But, as yet, the precious charter was not called in question. Massachusetts then by purchase secured possession of the grant which had been made to Gorges, under which the contest had begun, and a controversy arose whether proprietary rights carried with them the right of jurisdiction. New Hampshire was more thoroughly severed from Massachusetts, and made a royal province. Massachusetts, with a determined spirit, maintained her rights be- fore the privy council, and, though with constant fear and anxiety for the issue, -generally with success. But her enemies were reinforced A WRIT OF ^UO WARRANTO. 433 by the merchants and manufacturers of England, who regarded her growing prosperity with jealousy, and sought to secure a monopoly of colonial trade. They complained of the long total disregard of the Navigation Acts on the part of the colony; and their influence, even in that day, was such, that it was not long before the question was raised, whether the charter under which the colonists had so long shielded themselves had a legal existence. The monarchy could not well deny the validity of a charter granted under the royal hand of James I.; but in order to accomplish the purpose of the friends of prerogative and the enemies of Massachusetts, it was suggested that it might be abrogated for cause. For several years the matter remained unsettled, and the general court adopted some measures to show their recognition of the crown, such as putting up the king's arms in the court-house; but they yielded nothing of their rights under the charter. The people were aware how their liberties were threatened, and they anxiously discussed the policy to be pursued. The clergy, who had always taken the lead in political affairs, were outspoken in their opinion that it was a religious duty to maintain the charter, and they consolidated public sentiment against any surrender of the liberties secured by it. The general court truly represented the people, and were firm in their resolution not to yield anything voluntarily. Meanwhile, the power of the king, through the schemes of hungry courtiers, the blind submission of the church of England, and the apathy of the English people, had become more and more despotic, and the friends of popular liberty had perished on the scaffold. The time was at last ripe to proceed against the recusant colony, and summon it before a tribunal subservient to the king. A writ of quo ivarranto was issued, and the obnoxious Randolph was sent with it to Massa- chusetts. The lurking good-nature of the king prompted him to send with the writ a declaration promising the royal favor, and the fewest alterations of the charter consistent with the maintenance of a royal government, if the colony would quietly submit. The magistrates, feeling that further resistance before a tribunal bound to do the king's will would be fruitless, were disposed to trust to this promise, and submit. They resolved " not to contend with his NO. xi. 55 434 ROYAL TYRANNY, AND THE SPIRIT OF LIBERTY. majesty in a court of law," but to send agents to remind him of his promises and receive his commands. The vote, as usual, was submit- ted to the deputies for their approval, and was by them discussed for many days. They faithfully represented the people, and, after their long deliberation, they voted not to consent to the proposition. If they were to be deprived of their liberties, it should be by no voluntary act of theirs. The king was asked to forbear; but all such appeals were now in vain, and the prosecution proceeded to its predetermined conclusion; the charter was adjudged to be forfeited, and Massachusetts was at the mercy of the king and a corrupt court. Before a new order of things was actually commenced in the colony, Charles II. died; and James II., a worse ruler, and a more narrow- minded man, succeeded him on the throne. Knowing the new king to be a papist, cold-hearted, and an enemy of popular liberty, indul- ging in a baser sensuality than that of his brother, and without his natural generosity, the people looked for the government which was to be vouchsafed to them, with gloomy forebodings. It was not altogether pleasant when, after nearly a year's delay, Joseph Dudley, a native of Massachusetts, but faithless to the charter, and an avowed royalist, came to assume, for a time, the government of the colony. They had feared that a more dangerous man might be sent; and though to this extent it was a relief, it was also a source of regret and indignation that a son of Massachusetts should come to represent the triumph of royal prerogative over their chartered liberties. With Dudley came the old enemy of the colony, Randolph, with authority to exercise a censorship over the press, and a disposition to practise other devices of petty tyranny. The old government was formally set aside, and the new order of things proclaimed. While a few sycophants were ready to support the royal commission, the people generally looked on with sorrow and dis- quiet. The authority of Dudley was only temporary; and after a few months, Sir Edmund Andros came, duly commissioned as royal gov- ernor of New England; and then the people realized more fully that they lived no longer under their precious charter, but in a royal province. Andros had been the representative of James II. while he was yet the Duke of York, when the Dutch settlements on the Hudson were ANDROS IN CONNECTICUT. 435 surrendered a second time to the English, and the grant of a vast ter- ritory, from Maine along the frontier of Massachusetts and Connecticut to the Delaware, was confirmed to him by a royal charter. This grant to the Duke of York covered the territory as far as the Connecticut River, and Andros, not long after assuming the government of New York, as the province was named by the English, had tested the spirit of New England when he proceeded with some armed vessels to assert his jurisdiction as far as that river. As soon as this expedition was known in Connecticut, the aged deputy-governor, Leete, convened the assembly, who, representing the will of the people, prepared to resist any invasion of their territory or rights. Orders were sent to the com- mander of the fort at Saybrook, not to surrender to, or recognize the claimant. The orders arrived just as Andros demanded the surrender of the fort. The garrison was composed of the Connecticut militia, who knew little about war, but were imbued with the spirit of inde- pendence, and the only answer to the summons was the raising of the English flag over the fort, and a shout of defiance. Andros did not desire to resort to a conflict, or feared the result, and endeavored to accomplish his purposes by a peaceful conference. He asked permis- sion to land, for the purpose of an amicable interview, and being allowed to do so with a small retinue, he immediately, on reaching the fort, assumed authority, and ordered the duke's patent to be proclaimed. The Connecticut yeomen were not thus to be overreached, and in the king's name the herald was ordered to desist, and the proclamation of the colonial assembly was read. This determined spirit, which was enforced by the resolute looks of the colonial troops, "was more than the duke's representative had anticipated. He found himself in a pre- carious situation, and he was glad to retire, apparently escorted, and in fact driven to his boat. This attempt had given Andros an idea of the Puritan spirit of New England, and, together with his subsequent acts of oppression by com- mand of his master, had made him known to the people of Massachu- setts as an instrument of tyranny. His arrival at Boston was, therefore, more unwelcome than that of Dudley, and an augury of evil days to come. He came with the pomp and display which he considered belonged to his office, in the showy dress of the court, scarlet, and 436 ROYAL TYRANNY, AND THE SPIRIT OF LIBERTY. gold, and lace, which contrasted strongly with the more sober garb of the former governors and magistrates. Among the crowd who wit- nessed the landing of the governor and his retinue, there were, of course, some who, averse to the spirit of Puritanism, welcomed the change, and manifested their satisfaction by cheers; but the mass of the people looked on coldly and sullenly. Andros saw, at the outset, that he had come to govern " a perverse people." The royal governor was authorized to appoint the members of his council, and he took care to appoint a majority who would be merely subservient courtiers. This council made the laws; and the people, who had always enjoyed the privilege of choosing their own rulers, soon felt that they were simply the subjects of a despotism. Episco- pacy was to- be sustained, and free printing-presses were not to be tolerated. The governor was further authorized to maintain his gov- ernment, which was but the will of a tyrant, by force. A body of English soldiers was placed in the fort, and the militia was under the governor's control, though he could expect little aid from them. With such authority, responsible only to the king, whose notion of government was simply the exercise of his prerogative, it is not strange that the most tyrannical measures followed. Acts of real oppression and of petty tyranny were indulged in at the pleasure of Andros and his subordinates, who had come to gain wealth by the plunder of the colonists. Personal liberty was set at nought, and long-established rights and privileges were derided. Taxes and fees were multiplied at the will of the officers. Town meetings were prohibited as acts of sedition and riot. The religious services of the Puritans were subjected to various annoyances, and the Episcopal service was performed by force. The title to lands was ignored, notwithstanding the king had declared that their properties should be granted to the people "accord- ing to their ancient records." Andros and Randolph insisted that new grants must be taken, for which exorbitant fees were exacted in order to bring in "vast profits" to the hungry spoilsmen. If a landholder pleaded his grant under the charter, he was told that it was made void by the forfeiture of that instrument. If he showed an Indian deed, he was informed that it was "worth no more than the scratch of a bear's paw." If the record of town grants was produced, it was EPISCOPACT IN A PURITAN MEETING-HOUSE. 437 declared " not worth a rush." There was no way to escape the rapa- cious tyrants; the poor farmer must pay the fee which impoverished him, or be ejected from the lands he had subdued and long enjoyed. And the proceeds of these exactions were appropriated to the support of the tyrannical government and the emoluments of officers. These measures of oppression were accompanied by acts of petty tyranny scarcely less annoying and painful to the people. They were constantly reminded of their subjection, and told that they had no rights. No encouragement was given to schools, and the methods of supporting religious worship were abolished. The services of the meet- inf-house were ridiculed, and the Puritans were asked to contribute O ' towards the erection of a church for the Episcopal service, which they esteemed as little better than papacy. Soon after his arrival, Andros demanded the use of one of the meeting-houses for the performance of the church service. The Puritan elders declared that they could not consent to such a use of their meeting-house, and the worthy sex- ton said he would not ring the bell. The refusal defeated the first demand; but the tyrant whose power was absolute found a way to accomplish his purpose. By threats he succeeded in having the meet- ing-house opened, and the bell rung. Then, with his retinue, he pro- ceeded thither, and an Episcopal clergyman, in gown and surplice, read from the Book of Common Prayer in the Puritan meeting-house. The people of Massachusetts did not meekly endure these acts of petty tyranny, nor willingly submit to the exactions of the arbitrary government. In some of the towns they refused to pay the taxes levied upon them. The ministers, as always before, were foremost in pro- claiming the right of resistance to tyrants. Prosecutions and imprison- ment followed; packed juries rendered verdicts as the subservient magistrates directed. The writ of habeas corpus was denied, and when as Englishmen the prisoners appealed to the protection of Magna Charta, a provincial Jeffries replied, "Think not the laws of England follow you to the ends of the earth." The time had not come for forcible resistance, but the spirit of liberty animated the people. But they first sought, though with little hope, for some relief by an appeal to the king; and Increase Mather was sent to England on this errand, in spite of the law prohibiting any one to leave the country without permission. 438 ROYAL TYRANNY, AND THE SPIRIT OF LIBERTY. Randolph, who entertained a personal hatred towards Mather, as well as a dislike for all Puritan clergymen, and was the willing instrument for all petty tyranny, attempted to prevent his departure; but, by means of disguise, the minister succeeded in evading pursuit, and got on board a vessel about to sail for England. The people of Rhode Island and Connecticut still lived under the liberal charters granted by Charles II.; but Andros had been appointed by James II. governor of all New England, and soon after his arrival in Boston he demanded the surrender of the charter of Rhode Island. Governor Clarke, by whose labors the charter had been obtained, desired a delay; but Andros was determined to assert his authority. A writ of quo nuarranto had already been issued against the charter, and, in view of the fate of Massachusetts, the government resolved not to contend. Proceeding to Rhode Island, Andros dissolved the government, broke its seal, and appointed five citizens members of his council, who, responsible only to him, should administer the affairs of the colony. In the autumn of 1687, Andros, with some of his council and an armed guard, went to Connecticut to assume control of that portion of his province. Against the charter obtained by the younger Winthrop, a writ of quo nuarranto had also been issued. More determined than the people of Rhode Island, the colony asserted its chartered rights, and appealed to the king. The result of the proceedings was yet unknown when Andros arrived in Hartford. The colonial assembly was in session, and the royal governor, with his retinue, marched into the hall and arrogantly demanded the surrender of the charter. The people of Connecticut were much like those of Massachusetts, and their representatives were not disposed to yield to the demand without discussion. Governor Treat pleaded with great zeal and able argument for the charter granted by the late king, and was supported by the magistrates and deputies. Andros was a keen lawyer, and argued in reply. The debate continued till evening, and candles were brought in. The citizens, stirred by the report of the proceedings, crowded into the hall to hear the debate. The cherished charter lay on the table before the governor, and Andros probably only waited for some crisis in the proceedings to seize the precious instrument and tear it into fragments. THE CHARTER OAK. But that opportunity did not occur. There were those present who were bold enough, by a hastily formed but well-executed plot, to pre- vent the outrage. Suddenly the not over-numerous candles were extin- guished, and, in the darkness, William Wadsworth quietly seized the parchment and passed out through the crowd. When the candles were relighted, the subject of discussion had disappeared, and could not be found. While Andros looked on in anger, and others in wonder, and some of the royal governor's followers were disposed to cry treason, Wadsworth hurried to an ancient oak, in the hollow of which he con- cealed the precious charter. There it remained till a new revolution brought it once more to light; and the noble tree, always afterward known as the " Charter Oak," was cherished with the greatest rever- ence till time's ravages at last destroyed it. The disappearance of the written charter, however, was of little consequence to Andros. Its authority was denied, and the government established upon it was subverted. To the records of the assembly he added the word Finis, and, appointing a new council, formally estab- lished an arbitrary government founded on the royal prerogative. The spirit of liberty, which, from the first, had burned in the hearts of the people of New England, was not crushed by the oppression of the agents of royalty. They were ready to resist, as nearly a century later they resisted. They only bided their time, and waited patiently till peaceful efforts to regain their rights should be exhausted. The time for action, and their relief, came sooner than they anticipated. While the minions of a tyrannical king were oppressing the colo- nies in his name, and for their own emolument, the bigoted and des- potic mona'rch himself was preparing the way for a revolution in England. At last, the long-threatening storm burst: William, Prince of Orange, invited by Tories and Whigs, Church of England and Pres- byterians, landed in England to assume the government; and James II., deserted by priests, friends, and children, fled to the Continent. Early in the spring of 1689, a vessel arrived at Boston, bringing a messenger to announce the glorious news of the great revolution in the mother country. The intelligence spread rapidly as soon as it was told to those who first communicated with the ship; but when it reached the ears of the governor, the messenger was forthwith impris- 440 ROYAL TYRANNY, AND THE SPIRIT OF LIBERTY. oned. It was too late, however, to suppress the exciting news. In a few hours it was known throughout the town, and was quickly borne even to the remote settlements. Knots of citizens discussed it and its consequences, greatly to the alarm of the agents of the dethroned tyrant; and (| ministers stirred the whole people with discourses adapted to the times, declaring that the day of deliverance was at hand. For two weeks the excitement, though repressed, continued, and the spirit of revolt ripened. Alarmed at the " general buzzing among the people," Andros sent orders to the commander of the fort to have his soldiers ready for action, and similar orders to the commander of a frigate lying in the harbor. But one morning, two days after the orders were given, this naval officer, as he stepped on shore, probably with contempt for the " buzzing " of the citizens, suddenly found him- self a prisoner in the hands of a party of stalwart ship-carpenters. This was a signal for the people to gather, and they were soon col- lected in formidable numbers. The royalist sheriff hastened to quiet and disperse the multitude, and he too was held as a prisoner. The crowd then demanded of the commander of the militia the colors and arms of the regiment. Holding his office by appointment of Andros, he refused the demand; but it was enforced by threats, and companies were soon formed under their 'old officers. Meanwhile several royal officers were arrested, and the governor, with his adherents, hastened to the fort for safety. There he desired to hold a conference with the ministers and other leading citizens, but they were too wary to trust themselves in the power of the tyrant, and the conference was declined. The revolt was now in full progress, the several companies of militia assembled at the town-house, and boys paraded the streets with clubs. The proceedings of the people, though revolutionary, were not riot- ous. They assembled in the town-house after the manner of former town meetings which had been suppressed by the royal governor to consider their duties and the requirements of the hour. The venerable colonial governor, Bradstreet, a relic of the earliest days of the colony, and a representative of the spirit of civil liberty which animated the Puritan pioneers, was present, and was hailed with shouts of welcome, as the very opposite of the arrogant and tyrannical Andros. The men ANDROS A PRISONER IN BOSTON. ANDROS A PRISONER. 441 who had long been honored as magistrates were there, and the min- isters, who, as the royalists declared, were responsible for this " long- contrived piece of wickedness," were not wanting with encouragement and advice. A provisional government was organized by making the old magistrates, who had gone out with the overthrow of the charter, a council of safety, with Bradstreet as their president; and a solemn declaration of the purposes of the insurrection was adopted and sent out to all the other towns of the colony, inviting their co-operation. Already the stirring news had spread to many of those towns, and on the other side of the Charles River a thousand armed yeomen assem- bled to take part in any conflict which might ensue. Meanwhile the " train-band " soldiers of Boston proceeded to con- summate the revolution by an actual overthrow of the hated govern- ment inflicted by the deposed king. The fort which was then the defence of Boston was on a hill in the south-easterly part of the penin- sula, known as Fort Hill as long as it existed, and was a work of some strength for the times. At the foot of the hill, near the water, was a battery, called the " sconce," a small work mounted with several guns. A body of the militia moved along the shore towards this bat- tery, and, at their approach, the few soldiers who held it retired hastily to the fort on the hill. The battery was seized, and the guns turned towards the fort. The garrison was small, and as the forces of the insurgents were evidently becoming too formidable, Andros thought that the place of safety for him was on board the frigate which lay in the harbor with ports open and guns out. He attempted to escape, with his followers, but the whole party was captured, and marched through the streets as' prisoners. The arrogance and contempt with which he and his creatures had treated the people of Boston, were now repaid with jeers, as, in his scarlet coat but with manacled hands, he was paraded in disgrace on his way to prison. The revolution was soon accomplished. Numbers of armed men came in from the country. Andros was compelled to deliver up the keys of the castle. The blustering lieutenant, who commanded the frigate after the capture of the captain, found it expedient to surren- der. The fort was occupied by the militia. The proclamation of Wil- liam and Mary had not yet been received; but the people assumed NO. xii. 56 44 2 ROYAL TYRANNY, AND THE SPIRIT OF LIBERTY. their old privileges, and most of the towns voted to resume, the old charter. Representatives were chosen, and once more the general court assembled. Plymouth, Rhode Island, and Connecticut soon received the news of the proceedings in Boston, and each in turn speedily subverted .the government established by Andros, and re-established the one which he had overturned. The mysteriously rescued charter of Connecticut was brought from its hiding-place, and the closed records of the gen- eral assembly were again opened. The people of Rhode Island, with one mind, voted "to lay hold of our former gracious privileges in our charter contained." The sons of the Pilgrims at Plymouth put the agent of Andros in jail, and quietly resumed their former government under the compact framed in the cabin of the Mayflower. Thus did the people of New England assert their rights, and foster the spirit of liberty and independence which they bequeathed to their children. Three quarters of a century later, that spirit, in all the colonies, was displayed with increasing energy, and contended against far greater odds, till ultimately, in a long and exhausting war, it achieved inde- pendence and established a nation; the same spirit that aroused the citizens of Boston, and called thither the armed yeomen of Massachu- setts to aid in the overthrow of tyranny, that afterwards mustered the " embattled farmers " at Concord bridge, and defended Bunker Hill. LI. WITCHCRAFT. HEN Europeans first settled in America, the belief in witchcraft was universal among civilized nations. It had come down from the dark ages, and thousands of victims had been condemned as witches, tortured, and burned at the stake. Coming to a vast, unbroken wil- derness, into which the light of true religion had never penetrated, and inhabited by heathen who were believed to be worshippers and agents of devils, the superstition which the colonists shared in common with all people of that age was by no means diminished. The mysterious forest seemed the fitting abode of evil spirits, who were more powerful here than elsewhere, because of the incantations of the Indians, and the absence of the counteracting influence of the worship of God. Romanist and Protes- tant alike believed that here they had to contend with the spirit of darkness, who ruled his worshippers, the natives, if he did not openly wage war upon Christians. The more strict they were in the observ- ance of religious services, the stronger was this belief; and among the Protestants, the Puritans of New England were the most ready to put faith in the superstition. Happily, among the settlers there were few of that class of evil-disposed and idle persons, railers at sacred things and experts in necromancy, who might be charged with dealings with Satan, and who, in Europe, furnished the great number of victims who suffered for witchcraft; else it is quite probable that such madness as was displayed at a later day would have been manifest from the first. 443 WITCHCRAFT. But 'the Puritans were not alone in their belief in witchcraft, or readi- ness to punish witches. Even under the mild and liberal government of Penn, two Swedish women were indicted for witchcraft, under instruc- tions from the governor himself; and they escaped by reason of some defect in the indictment, rather than from any unwillingness to punish the offence. It is said that Penn, on one occasion, in the early days of Philadelphia, when a woman was charged with being a witch and riding a broomstick through the air, declared there was no law against that method of locomotion, and she might so ride as often as she pleased; but if this be true, he had probably modified his opinions if he prompted the indictment of the Swedish women. The first case of punishment for witchcraft in New England that is recorded took place in 1648. Margaret Jones, of Charlestown, who, like many another old woman, administered "herbs and simples" to the ailing, and, as is usual with that class of persons, mingled a good many superstitious notions with her prescriptions, came to be much feared by some of her neighbors. She had probably acquired some knowledge of the virtues of roots and herbs from the Indians, and it was supposed that she had also learned some of their sorcery, especially as she had some disagreeable qualities, and was " a railer and liar if not a witch." She took no pains to disavow the supernatural powers ascribed to her, but on the contrary encouraged the belief in them, as it made her more of a terror to her neighbors. The natural result of such a reputation was, that she was accused of being a witch, and practising the " malignant touch." She was tried, found guilty, and condemned to death. She was executed in Boston, in June, and " the same day and hour there was a great tempest;" a thunder-shower, common at that period of the year, was supposed by the superstitious to be the raging of the spirit of darkness at the punishment of his agent, or a manifestation of his delight at securing her soul. In 1651, Mary Parsons, of Springfield, murdered her infant, and otherwise conducted herself so insanely that she was thought to be a witch, the only way of accounting for her singular pranks, accord- ing to the notions of some of her neighbors. She was indicted for the murder of her child, and also for " having familiarity with the devil as a witch." At the trial, the evidence was not sufficient to convict her MISTRESS ANN HIBBINS. 445 on the latter indictment, and she was acquitted; but she confessed the murder, and was condemned to death. The next year, Hugh Parsons, the husband of Mary, was also charged with making a covenant with the devil, and by his wicked practices inflicting injury on some of his neighbors. What the real trouble was with the Parsons family does not appear; but they had in some way become obnoxious to some of the good peo'ple of Spring- field, and their resentful dispositions probably suggested witchcraft. Parsons was indicted and tried, and the jury found him guilty. It was necessary, however, that the verdict should be approved by the magis- trates, and they withheld their approval. The case, therefore, came before the general court, and that body decided that the charge of witchcraft was not sustained. Parsons escaped; but had the public mind been wrought up to the madness shown at a later day, there would have been little chance for him. Hutchinson intimates that a woman in Dorchester and another in Cambridge were condemned and executed as witches about the same time that Mary and Hugh Parsons were tried; but the colonial records do not mention any such victims. A more notable case occurred in Boston in 1656. Mrs. Ann Hib- bins was the widow of a prominent citizen, and the sister of Deputy- Governor Bellingham, and therefore occupied a prominent position. She probably had a shrewish temper, and after her husband's death she managed to quarrel with her neighbors. When a waspish woman unfortunately gets into such unpleasant relations with those about her, t she is very apt to go from bad to worse, and Mrs. Hibbins's sharp tongue undoubtedly did not spare her enemies. Gossip and slander had painted her worse than she was, and she retorted in no measured terms,; but she had to contend alone against a united body of gossips and persecutors. At first, she was subjected to the censure of the church; but that had no effect, unless it was to loose her tongue against things held sacred by the Puritans; and that made her still more odious. She was sharp-eyed and keen-witted; and once, when she saw two of her persecutors conversing in the street, she railed at them for talking about her, and charged them with saying certain things which, under the circumstances, any woman might have guessed. But this was proof that she had supernatural powers of reading the 446 WITCHCRAFT. thoughts of others, or hearing their whispers when far removed from her, and she could possess such powers only by dealing with Satan. She was accordingly accused of witchcraft, and was tried by the gen- eral court. The strongest evidence against her was, that she had rightly guessed what two gossips were saying about her; but this, with the reports current concerning her violent language and actions, was enough, and she was convicted, and sentenced to be executed. There were those who defended her against the charge of witchcraft, but their efforts in her behalf were fruitless, and they only succeeded in bringing themselves into trouble. Joshua Scottow, a citizen of respecta- bility, and a selectman, who testified in her favor, and perhaps used some language reflecting upon her accusers, was punished for taking her part, and was obliged to write a humble apology therefor. Efforts were made to save the unfortunate woman from the gallows, but they were unavailing, and she was executed; but in the last hours of her life she manifested less of the supposed characteristics of a witch than some of those who had persecuted her. When it was too late, there was a change in public opinion, and the accusers of Mrs. Hibbins found themselves regarded with resentment, and shunned for bearing false witness against her. Prosecutions for witchcraft were not confined to Massachusetts ; several cases occurred in Connecticut, where the accused were tried and condemned in much the same manner. In 1662, a number of women were accused of being witches, and, when brought to trial, one of them made the most preposterous confessions of her dealings with the devil, which were accepted as true, in spite of their absurd- ity. They were found guilty, and condemned to death, and were prob- ably all executed. In 1679, the phenomena known in later times as "spiritual manifesta- tions," occurred at the house of one William Morse, in Ipswich, where there were mysterious rappings and violent movements of furniture and utensils, which not only disturbed the comfort of the family, but brought them into disrepute with their neighbors, who were greatly alarmed at what they conceived were the doings of Satan. Caleb Powell, a sea- faring friend of Morse, who visited the house, and was not prevented by an excess of piety from inquiring into the phenomena, was convinced A WITCH CONDEMNED. 447 that a youth, who was an inmate of the family, was the cause of all the trouble. Pie agreed, if permitted to take this youth to sea with him, that the house should be rid of the disturbances. After some parley- ing, it was agreed that he should take the boy to sea; and with this agreement the mysterious commotion ceased. Powell, however, had the propensity of many sailors, and told some extravagant stories of his experiences; and having little fear of the devil, talked with consid- erable freedom about the Prince of Darkness, and his power to exor- cise evil spirits. This, with the fact that the deviltry ceased when he prevailed upon Morse to let him take away the boy, was enough to satisfy some of the neighbors that he had dealings with .the devil; and he was accused of witchcraft. He was brought before the magistrates of the county and tried. The evidence was not sufficient to convict him, but the court found "such grounds of suspicion of his dealing" with Satan that he was obliged to pay the costs of his prosecution. Though Powell was acquitted, the belief that somebody practised witchcraft was still entertained by the neighbors; and as old women were supposed to be the most ready to become the tools of Satan, old Mrs. Morse, the grandmother of the troublesome boy, was accused. Her case was carried before the Court of Assistants at Boston, and although the evidence against her was exceedingly frivolous, she was convicted, and sentenced to be hanged. She was, however, reprieved till the next session of the court; and afterwards, from time to time, till the dep- uties, reflecting the popular feeling, expressed their disapprobation. The magistrates, however, did not yield to the outcry, and the poor old woman remained in jail, with the sentence hanging over her, till she petitioned to have her case disposed of one way or the other, and her suspense ended. There was not much in her conduct while so con- fined to sustain the verdict of the jury, and after a long confinement she was finally released. For some years after this, witchcraft seems to have subsided. Those who had an ambition to pretend to supernatural powers were by no means numerous, and jealous gossips found few of their neighbors whose conduct was open to suspicion of diabolical practices. But in 1692, the belief in witchcraft, which had from the first had a strong hold upon the minds of most of the people of New England, reached a climax 448 WITCHCRAFT. in the delusion which prevailed at Salem. It is not intended to dwell upon the sickening details of that unhappy period, the results of min- gled delusion and chicanery, of malice and religious zeal, of false tes- timony and mockery of justice, of hysteria, epilepsy, and conspiracy, and cruel acting. Few of those then living were among the pioneers in the settlement of that region, but they inherited the belief from the earliest colonists; and it is only proposed to show, briefly, to what mad- ness this credulity could be carried under the religious system of the Puritans, and the social condition of the colonists. But while the delusion in that little village was remarkable for its excess, it should be remembered that it was by no means peculiar to its people, or the product of Puritanism; for while "witches" had hitherto been rare in New England, the gallows and the stake had, with little intermission, found scores if not hundreds of victims in Europe condemned for this crime, as it was then universally considered among the Christian nations. As in many other delusions, its excess here wrought its cure, and New England saw the folly, and abandoned the practice of pun- ishing an imaginary spiritual oftence long before its penalties were discarded in Europe. The delusion which was carried to such excess at Salem was pre- ceded by, and perhaps had its origin in certain strange proceedings in a respectable family in Boston in 1688. The children of Mr. John Goodwin began to behave in an unaccountable manner, going through various contortions of their bodies, uttering strange cries, apparently suf- fering severe tortures, and otherwise showing symptoms of some mal- ady which the physician could only account for on the ground that they were bewitched. They barked like dogs, mewed like cats, and are soberly reported to have flown like geese, " their toes barely touch- ing the ground." One of them was exceedingly expert in the various performances, especially in riding an imaginary horse about the house, which was done with such skill that the astonished spectators believed she was really mounted on an invisible animal. The strange conduct of these children excited general interest and alarm, the belief that it was caused by the agency of evil spirits being almost universal. The Rev. Cotton Mather, who witnessed their proceedings, and who felt that by virtue of his office as minister it was his duty to fight the COTTON MATHER AND THE GOODWIN GIRL. 449 devil in this attack upon some of his flock, took the most expert per- former into his family, that he might exorcise the evil spirit that trou- bled her. He had rather a sorry time of it, for the girl played all manner of pranks upon him; sometimes to his astonishment, and often to his great annoyance. She would read in the Prayer Book, but could not be persuaded to read in the Bible, and this was supposed to be proof positive that she was under the influence of Satan. When he spoke to a visitor in Latin, Greek, and Hebrew, successively, she guessed his meaning, but when he spoke in the Indian tongue, she professed not to understand; and this was supposed to indicate that the devil who controlled her had not yet mastered the language of the aborigi- nes. She was artful enough to humor the doctor's belief and notions respecting the things which were distasteful to the evil spirit, and she flattered him by intimating that the devil could not come into his study. She did not, however, content herself with this style of acting, but sometimes acted with great violence, disturbing the reverend gentle- man while writing his sermon by throwing great books at his head, and otherwise annoying him. Dr. Mather probably considered even these demonstrations as rather complimentary than otherwise, since they indicated Satan's impotent hostility towards him. While this girl was acting at Dr. Mather's, the other children were performing at homo, though probably with less effect, since the most accomplished actor and teacher was absent. Boston and Charlestown ministers held a fast at Mr. Goodwin's house, and thereby it was sup- posed that the youngest child was relieved from its sufferings. But according to the doctrine of demonology, the sufferers must be afflicted through some human agent of the evil spirits, and suspicion was fixed upon a weak and infirm old woman, who was a Roman Catholic, as the witch by whom they were tormented. This woman had incurred the displeasure of Mrs. Goodwin, and she had retorted with violent and threatening language. She was a poor outcast, weak in mind, and a Papist; altogether, she was just the person to be accused as a witch, and it was assumed that she was the agent of the devil in afflicting the children. She was arrested and tried for witchcraft, and her answers to questions which she did not understand were taken to be admissions that she was in league with Satan. She was found guilty, NO. xu. 57 45 WITCHCRAFT. condemned and executed, and the bewitched children were in due time relieved. The story of the Goodwin children was told by Cotton Mather in a pamphlet which was read with wonder and awe in most of the families of Massachusetts. The performances of the boy in the family of Mr. Morse, already mentioned, were also recounted, while tales of witches in England were the most thrilling romances and the only ones of- the day. That all these tricks and tortures were the doings of Satan, neither Mather nor his readers doubted, and an uneasy feel- ing pervaded the community, which was easily stirred by a recurrence of similar events. Whether prompted by a growing disquietude respecting the super- natural, by Cotton Mather's account of the performances of the Good- win children, or by the wild suggestions of an Indian woman, a number of girls in Salem village, an outlying district of Salem town, were in the habit of meeting at the house of Rev. Mr. Parris, the minister of the village, to practise fortune-telling and necromancy, or tricks which had the appearance of the supernatural. They were of various ages, from eleven to twenty years, one of them a daughter of Mr. Parris, others the daughters of substantial residents, or servants in their fam- ilies. With them was joined an Indian woman, named Tituba, who had been brought as a slave from New Spain in the family of Mr. Parris. This , woman, who was full of the superstition of her race, probably gave direction to the proceedings of the girls which resulted in the sad scenes which followed. At first they confined themselves to tricks in which they became quite expert, and exhibited them to the astonishment of their friends. They next indulged in strange antics which were so much like the wild proceedings of Indian sorcerers and their dupes, that their origin might well be ascribed to the teachings of Tituba. They would apparently be seized with spasms and fits, drop insensible on the floor, and writhe in fearful tortures. With some these sufferings were, perhaps, the effects of imagination; but with others they were undoubtedly mere pretences. As they attracted notice, they very naturally increased in frequency and violence, and created great alarm among their friends. The village physician was called, and having neither sufficient acumen to see through THE AFFLICTED CHILDREN OF SALEM. 45* the acting, nor sufficient skill to prescribe a remedy for such apparent suffering, he gravely decided that the children were bewitched: a con- clusion to which the medical men of that day not infrequently came in cases which they could not comprehend. " The malignant touch " of some one who had become the agent of the devil was declared to be the cause of these tortures. The prevailing belief in witchcraft accepted this decision of the doctor as reasonable and only too cor- rect; and the whole community, with a few exceptions, became greatly alarmed. People flocked to see the children in their tortures and con- vulsions, and the tortures and convulsions increased with the increasing interest in them. They were not confined to private dwellings and week-days, but came at last to be exhibited on Sunday, in the meet- ing-house, greatly to the disturbance of the exercises. Ministers were then called to consider the matter; and the ministers agreed with the doctor, that it was the work of Satan, grown more bold than ever. Doubtless, while the alarmed spectators beheld the "afflicted chil- dren," as they were called, taking for granted that they were suffering from an " evil hand," it was asked in whispers who was the wicked instrument through whom the devil wrought this mischief. :t Who is the witch?" was a fearful whisper heard by the children. It was one which very soon they were called upon to answer; and then the art- fulness and acting 6f some of these girls were called more seriously into play. Did they confer together to select the persons to be accused? They had ample opportunity to do so; and when, at last, they were urged to say who it was that bewitched them, they unitedly pro- nounced the names of three women, two of whom Sarah Good and Sarah Osborn were persons of whom the community were ready to believe anything bad; and the other was Tituba, the Indian woman, who was named with deliberate cunning, in order better to carry out the imposture. Meanwhile, the excitement in the community had reached such a height that, under the lead of the Rev. Mr. Parris, in whose house had been commenced the folly and tricks which led to the wicked accusa- tions, there was a general demand for the prosecution of the accused. Two of the magistrates residing in the vicinity, Hathorne and Corwin, were called upon to issue warrants for the arrest of the supposed 45 2 WITCHCRAFT. witches, and to examine them. The magistrates shared in the general belief in the "bewitched" condition of the "afflicted children," and entered upon the examination with minds convinced in advance of the guilt of the accused. The children went through their contortions, and cried out that the accused were torturing them; and the magistrates, assuming that it was all true, sought by leading questions to obtain some admission from the unfortunate women that should condemn them. They persisted in their innocence, except Tituba, who con- fessed that she had dealings with the devil, and by her confession and artful answers confirmed the belief in the guilt of the others. After a mockery of judicial examination they were committed for trial. The " reign of terror " was thus commenced ; and having once begun their accusations, the " afflicted children " soon named others as their tormentors, while the prosecutors increased in zeal and in num- bers. Persons of good social position and of excellent and pious life were accused, especially such as were not carried away by the delu- sion. They were examined in the same prejudiced manner, the chil- dren becoming more and more expert in their manifestations of torture, and more artful in their methods of accusation. The excitement spread through the colony, and people came from far and near to witness the examinations and the pretended torments of the " afflicted children." The latter, too, were reinforced by the accession of several married women to their number. A special court was convened for the examina- tion of the increasing number of the accused, and the ministers united in urging on the prosecutions, that the schemes of Satan might be defeated. Sermons were preached to arouse magistrates and people to proceed with the greatest rigor against all the instruments of the devil, and the whole religious and social life of the community was engrossed with the delusion. The few who were not carried away by it were accused, or in great danger of being accused as witches. This sad state of affairs was brought about by the acting of most, with perhaps the effects of imagination on others of the " afflicted chil- dren." "These girls," says Upham, "by long practice in ? the circle,' and day by day, before astonished and wondering neighbors gathered to witness their distresses, and especially on the more public occasions of the examinations, had acquired consummate boldness and tact. In ACTING Of THE AFFLICTED CHILDREN. 453 simulation of passions, sufferings, and physical affections; in sleight of hand, and in the management of* voice, and feature, and attitude, no necromancers have surpassed them. There has seldom been better acting in a theatre than they displayed in the presence of the aston- ished and horror-stricken rulers, magistrates, ministers, judges, jurors, spectators, and prisoners. No one seems to have dreamed that their actings and sufferings could have been the result of cunning or impos- ture. . . . The prisoners, although conscious of their own innocence, were utterly confounded by the acting of the girls. The austere prin- ciples of that generation forbade, with the utmost severity, all theatrical shows and performances. But at Salem village and the old town, in the respective meeting-houses, and at Deacon Nathaniel IngersolPs, some of the best playing ever got up in this country was practised; and patronized, for weeks and months, at the very centre and heart of Puritanism, by 'the most straitest sect' of that solemn order of men. Pastors, deacons, church-members, doctors of divinity, college professors, officers of state, crowded, day after day, to behold feats which have never been surpassed on the boards of any theatre; which rivalled the most memorable achievements of pantomimists, thaumaturgists, and stage-players; and made considerable approaches towards the best performances of ancient sorcerers and magicians, or modern jugglers and mesmerizers." What relation the conduct and acting of the "afflicted children" bear to the phenomena of modern "spiritualism" may be an interest- ing question to those who believe that such performances were invol- untary; but the exposed tricks of recent times may well lead one to believe that deception was not an unknown art in 1692. Malice and revenge for real or fancied affronts were too evidently the motives of some of these false accusers, fhe real evil spirits that caused so much excitement and anguish, acting not through the unfortunate victims, but through these pretenders. If some were carried away by imagination and a thoughtless zeal to perform their part well, the elder girls, who gave direction to the tragedy, were the cool, calculating actors who were moved by malice and cunning. When the jails were filled with the accused, and the unfortunate victims were brought to trial, the court and juries shared in the gen- 454 WITCHCRAFT. eral excitement, and under the influence of the ministers manifested a readiness to do their part, " that Satan's kingdom might be suppressed, weakened, -brought down, and at last totally destroyed." Convictions were easy on the absurd testimony which was presented, and when a jury once acquitted one of the accused, the court refused to receive the verdict, and sent them back to find the friendless victim guilty. Not to dwell upon the sad story, many convictions had taken place, and condemnation to death promptly pronounced against the convicts; a score of unfortunates were led, amid the jeers of the spectators, up to the "Witches' Hill" in Salem, and died upon the gallows; but still the jails were full of the accused, and the charges continued, per- sons of more and more note in social position, and even young and guileless children, being selected as the culprits. Thoughtful men began to ask when these mad proceedings would end. One fearful punish- ment appalled all but the craziest and most violent of the prosecutors. Giles Corey, whose wife had been one of the earliest accused, and whose testimony had unintentionally sustained the charge, was at a later day himself charged with witchcraft. That his property might not be taken from his heirs by attainder if he were convicted and hanged, he refused to plead. Several times he was arraigned, but he firmly adhered to his resolution neither to plead "guilty" nor "not guilty." The court was at a loss how to proceed; but at last resorted to an old law of England, and condemned the stern old man to be pressed to death by heavy weights. The terrible sentence was carried into effect. The gradually increased pressure could not change the sufferer's purpose, and he only bade the executioners " pile on more weights " to end the torture.* * A few who had already been condemned were executed after this terrible death had been inflicted on Giles Corey. But enough lives had been sacrificed, and a fierce reaction began in the public mind. * Even Cotton Mather and other ministers, who had urged on the pros- ecutions, began to doubt the wisdom of their work. The judges who had condemned the victims repented of their zeal, and some, through * The case of Giles Corey and his wife, Martha, is the subject of one of Mr. Longfellow's " New England Tragedies," in which the spirit of the proceedings and the character of the par- ties are portrayed with close adherence to the tragic reality. THE RESULTS AND THE END. 455 the remainder of their lives, bore a heavy burden on their consciences. Those who had busied themselves as accusers were looked upon with aversion. The jails were opened, and the survivors of the accused were permitted to return to their homes. One hundred and fifty were thus discharged, besides a number of children who had been detained in private houses. In all, several hundred had been accused. The delusion, produced by the foolish pranks, followed by the wicked devices of some young girls who were carried away by their imagina- tions or their malice, had resulted in the death of a score of innocent persons, and had brought mourning, estrangement, remorse, to the com- munity; but it brought to light a better reason, and ended the perse- cution of alleged witches. LII. BETWEEN THE LINES OF HISTORY. ||T has been suggested by one who takes a genial view of life, and who has studied human nature,* that certain pleasant experiences may be written between the lines of New England history : the attempts of youth to enjoy the things of youth, new ribbons or new vests, songs other than psalms, love, walks of young men and maidens together, possibly a frolic in some out- lying farm-house, whose inmates were not so austere as to forbid it, or whose absence offered a golden opportunity. The grave chroniclers of the early days were ignorant of these episodes in the staid life of the Puritan colonies, or omitted them as frivolous and wicked devices. Yet who can doubt that, notwithstanding all the restraints that hemmed it about, youth would still be youth, and in spite of homily and reproof would sometimes steal the pleasures which austere elders were disposed to deny it? Indeed, here and there in the pages of sober historians we have glimpses of the working of human nature for its own enjoyment, while the records of the courts show the punishments which sometimes followed. In the absence of pious elders who felt the weight of the church on their shoulders, the younger members of their families would have a frolic, the pleasures of which were too soon brought to an end by the sudden appearance of the scandalized parent. Not all who came over were church-members, nor very austere in * Robert Collyer. 45 6 AN OUTLYING FARM-HOUSE. 457 their notions, though they were good, orderly people, who were glad enough to bear with the austerity of the Puritan leaders, so they could escape ecclesiastical oppression in England. Thrifty and industrious, they were good farmers and good citizens. We may imagine the homes of this class, at least, as not always governed by over-strict rules to cloud the sunshine of the young. And among the church- members there was not always that severity of countenance or of thought which would prohibit all mirth or pleasure, if it were not the sacred Sabbath-time, or a day set apart for humiliation and fasting. Let the reader picture to himself one of these " outlying farm- houses " after the early years of peril and hardship had passed. A frame house of stout oaken beams, covered with rough boards that grew dark under sunshine and storm, one story in height, with a high, thatched roof that in the rear sloped nearly to the ground, affording ample room for the family, who did not desire each a separate apart- ment. In the centre a huge stone chimney divided the house into a spacious kitchen on the one side and sleeping-rooms on the other. In the former was a wide fireplace, in which could be piled K back-logs and fore-sticks " four or five feet long, and yet afford room for children to sit against the comfortable jambs. High up in the mouth of the chim- ney, where the smoke constantly ascended, hung a store of bacon for future use. Along the beams and joists that supported the garret floor hung strings of dried apples, and golden pumpkins for the Thanksgiv- ing pies, and here and there a bunch of savory herbs which the good- wife had carefully raised and preserved for pleasant seasoning to her dishes, or bitter but wholesome draughts for the ailing. At evening, around the spacious hearth, the family gathered for an hour or two of homely tasks. The blazing pine knots afforded a light which put to shame the tallow candle on the table. The goodman and his hired man repaired some farming implement, or nailed new soles upon their heavy shoes. The goodwife at her spinning-wheel spun the yarn with which the grown-up maidens knit long hose. On the hearth the smaller children roasted chestnuts from the ample store they had gathered in the woods. Nor were these various employments carried on in silence and under stern restraint. The children laughed over their bursting chestnuts; the goodman told of his exploits at the NO. xir. 58 458 ^ BETWEEN THE LINES OF HISTORT. plough, and challenged his man to a contest in felling trees. The goodwife gave pleasant instruction to her daughters in spinning or knitting, or told some story of her youthful days in Old England. If the maidens were a little demure, their eyes would sometimes wander towards that hired man, a frank-faced, hearty lad, and they smiled approval when he accepted their father's challenge, and laughed out- right at some sally of his wit. Though not austere, these good people were religious; and ere the pine knots were burnt out, they laid aside their work, and the good- man read aloud in the Bible, almost the only book the house could boast, and offered up a prayer. And then the boys ran a race for their bed, the girls disappeared more quietly, and the elders, carefully raking up the fire, and covering it with ashes, soon followed the others to rest. It was an early hour; but long before the dawn they must be up at their morning tasks. In the quiet autumn days at such a farm there were sometimes more joyous occasions. When the harvest was gathered, and a goodly stock of ripened ears of corn was piled in the barn, the young people gathered for a husking-frolic, when work and pleasure were combined. Rapidly the crisp husks were stripped from the golden ears, with many a joke and peal of laughter. If at first some of the youths were bash- ful, and some of the girls demure, numbers of like youthful age soon put to flight all excessive shyness, and young men and maidens min- gled their voices in the merry din, pelted each other with the harm- less husks, and eagerly watched for the appearance of the red ear, which brought a half-desired, half-shunned reward. There was no reproving elder to stop the fun; only the mild-eyed cattle looked on in wonder at the unwonted scene. If the good man for whose benefit this merry labor was performed should chance to come near, he wisely kept out of sight, that he might not mar the joy, or hinder the busy hands. The sun had set, and deepening shadows gathered in the barn ere the corn and husks were parted. When the work was finished, and a great heap of golden ears lay before them, the girls retired to the house, while the young men gave the impatient cattle their evening meal, and finished the farmer's " chores," and then with glad expec- SOCIAL MEETINGS. THANKSGIVING. 459 tation followed, bearing the foaming pails of milk. In the house they found a bountiful table spread, and, with appetites sharpened by their toil and merriment, promptly attacked the plain but abundant fare. " Many a sweet thing was whispered behind a doughnut, and many a sentiment lurked in a pie." These young men and young women thus becoming acquainted, were by no means too austere or too demure to fall in love, and a husking frolic often led to love-making of the robust sort and speedy weddings. There were not many long court- ships in those days, and early marriages were the rule. Land was plenty; and industry in the field and thrift in the house made happy homes. But social meetings were not confined to the " boys and girls." The older men, indeed, gave little time to such enjoyment; but the matrons were somewhat given to gossip then as when were they not? "Spin- nings " were then in vogue, and the thrifty goodwives, each carrying her spinning-wheel, went to some neighbor's house, where they entered into a lively competition in spinning yarn from the wool of her little flock, or thread from the flax grown on her farm. At such gatherings, the clatter and whirring of the wheels by no means drowned the voices of the spinners. All the events of the neighborhood, and the virtues and faults of those who were not present, were freely discussed. The matches, real and imaginary, that grew out of .the last husking frolics were commented on in a manner that should have made the ears of some of the boys and girls tingle. Nor were these dames always sweet- tempered; ill-natured remarks, which found a ready repetition, some- times caused heart-burnings and sorrow, and perhaps retaliation. But let us hope that these were exceptions. In 1623, after the Pilgrims had gathered a fair harvest on their little plantations, Governor Bradford sent out a party to hunt for game, " that they might have more dainty and abundant things for a feast, and rejoice together after they had enjoyed the fruits of their labors." That was the origin of the New England Thanksgiving, which at an early day became a regular autumnal festival. The Merry Christmas of Old England was wholly ignored, and even abhorred as a day associated with popery and with the persecution of the English hierarchy. But as Englishmen, the colonists had a desire to enjoy the festivities and 460 BETWEEN THE LINES OF HISTORT. good will of such a day, and they accordingly substituted a day appointed by the magistracy, which, in accordance with their predom- inant religious character, was first of all a day of pious "thanksgiving and praise," and secondarily an occasion for feasting and good cheer. In the lapse of time the good cheer has come to be the chief instead of the secondary consideration. Yet the New England Thanksgiving is not a riotous holiday, but a home festival, a day for the reunion of families and the indulgence of the pure affections, and as such it is a precious legacy of the Pilgrims and Puritans to their descendants. The peculiar characteristic of the day as a home festival has come down from those primitive farm-houses above described. Under those humble roofs first began the custom of family gatherings to celebrate the harvest festivities. Thither came on that day children who had gone forth from the parental roof to service elsewhere, or to establish new homes, the less fortunate relative who had no other home to wel- come him, and those who had no children to gather around their board. Most of them, according to custom, had attended the Thanksgiving services at the " meeting-house," and having fulfilled this pious duty, they came prepared to devote the rest of the day to homely festivities and pleasant intercourse. Willing hands made light work, and in due time the table was spread with an abundance of good cheer. The turkey and chickens, pampered for this day's feast, appeared in a dress of ruddy brown, the very sight of which was appetizing. The garden patch furnished its choicest productions; goodly loaves of brown bread told of the gener- ous yield of the cornfields; the golden pumpkin appeared in tempting pies; the little orchard contributed its rosy apples, and the forest its sweet nuts. A portly jug of cider and mugs of home-brewed beer were not wanting to moisten the more substantial food. Though the formalities of more aristocratic tables were unknown, the company did not forget to bow their heads while the host asked a blessing and gave thanks for the bountiful provision of Providence. Then how joy- ously the feast proceeded ! with what grateful hearts these bounties were partaken of! with what happiness were these kindred assembled once more around the hospitable board ! With the elders, remem- brances of former days and more straitened circumstances mingled with THANKSGIVING EVENING. 461 thoughts of present comforts to make the thanksgiving more genuine. The young recalled the toils, the exploits, and the joys of childhood, recounted the experiences of the past year, or whispered hopes for the future. When the feast was over, the women cleared away the fragments, while the men repaired to the barn to inspect the cattle, to guess at the weight of the hay-mow, to tell of achievements with the scythe, the plough, or the axe, and to talk of the various interests of the farmer; and the children scrambled to the woods to glean a few more nuts, or chase some squirrel that ventured from his winter nest. Twi- light brought all again around the old, familiar hearth, where the cheery fire blazed brightly, and threw grotesque and dancing shadows on the walls. The children roasted apples and chestnuts over the coals, jests passed freely among the young men and women, the goodman played a game of draughts with his eldest guest, corn and beans being the opposing forces, and the goodwife told some quaint tradition of the past. An early hour broke up the little circle with hearty good-nights and blessings. The guests who did not live too far away mounted their rough wagon or their steady horse, the young wife clinging close behind her husband, a folded blanket serving for saddle and pillion, and thus they rode homeward in the moonlight. Such is the story of the " outlying farm-houses " that we may read between the lines of history; how shall we read the 'unwritten tales of life in the larger towns? There people were brought closer together, and social life, if restrained by stern laws and austere customs among the more rigid Puritans, would nevertheless assert itself, and would not be content with the meetings at the Sabbath service or the weekly lecture. The men met in the market-place and discussed the prices and prospects of merchandise, or the political and religious questions that divided the general court and the people. The women visited, and over their knitting and sewing found food for gossip, and some- times for scandal, in the doings of their neighbors which were scrupu- lously watched. Fashion, even in those days, and among the Puritans, held some sway, so that the court found occasion to pass sumptuary laws. Many of the settlers of the wealthier sort brought with them the notions of the mother country, where a royal court and wealthy 462 BETWEEN THE LINES OF HIS TORT. aristocracy set the example of costly and stylish dress, and demanded it from those who made pretensions to gentle birth or honorable posi- tion. Boston had been settled but a year when some of the women were thought to be extravagant in dress, and the court " bade the Elders urge it upon the consciences of the people that they should avoid cost- liness of apparel and following of new fashions." But it so happened that the Elders' wives belonged to a class who considered dress as a badge of social distinction, and this attempt to check fashion did not accom- plish much. At a later day, when there was no court or titled and wealthy aristocracy at hand to set the fashion, and stern Puritanism was in the ascendant not only in New England but in Old England, fashion had comparatively fewer followers, and sumptuary laws were more rigidly observed. But custom and the laws allowed some distinc- tion of class in dress, and of course there were some who went as far as possible, without offending, in the style and trimming of their gar- ments; and scarlet bodices and costly ruffs, and other adornments that grieved the austere Puritan, were not unknown in Boston. Spite of the watchful eyes of gossips, young men and maidens would meet and walk together on the Common. An English visitor about the year 1663, in a description of Boston, wrote, "On the south there is a small but pleasant Common, where the gallants, a little before sunset, walk with their Marmalet-Madams, as we do in Morefields, till the nine-o'clock bell rings them home to their respective habitations; when presently the constables walk their rounds to see good order kept, and to take up loose people." Doubtless there was much courting done in those days on that Common, where soft words could be whispered more freely than in the homes of the fair ones. And when the unwel- come curfew rang, how slow was the pace of some of the happy pairs, and how long the lingering at the gate, spite of constable or Mrs. Grundy! Were there not gay times, too, for these young folks when little parties of them went out to the farms at Muddy River? A good long row it was for the young men, in their deeply-laden boat, across the broad "back bay," and up the Muddy River winding through the marshes to a point where the wooded upland invited them to debark. There, in the golden autumn days, was there not many a merry shout and laugh as the holiday party gathered chestnuts amid a shower of prickly burs shaken SECRET TEARS. 463 down by some adventurous climber? A return by moonlight across the shining water, a slow drifting with the tide to prolong the pleas- ure, was a very natural way for youth to finish the excursion. Per- haps there were some dull homilies read, and some tears shed, when the truant maidens came tardily home; but the homilies were soon forgotten, and the tears soon dried, as newly awakened hopes brought dreams of a happy future. The Puritan burial-place was no blooming garden nor shady grove, beautiful with rural art and costly sculpture, but it was often a well- chosen site on an eminence looking out upon the sea or down upon the homes of the living. Their austere notions and gloomy faith for- bade the decoration of the tomb with flowers, or that pious care for the last resting-place of friends and kindred which characterizes their descendants. The pathway to the cemetery was seldom trod except to fill a new grave. But with all their religious austerity which looked apparently with so little love upon the untenanted " tabernacle of the flesh," many a heart yet yearned after the lifeless forms that were laid away to rest; sometimes a bereaved widow or stricken mother has stolen away from formal words of consolation or admonition, and sought the desolate burial-place to pour out her human grief upon the grassy mound that covered husband or child. And in their homes the few- memorials of the departed, trifles though they were, were cherished as the dearest treasures of those human hearts, and often bedewed with secret tears. LIIL MAINE.-THE POPHAM COLONY AT SAGADAHOCK. HE same year that a settlement was made at James- town, in Virginia, under the auspices of the London Company, the Plymouth Company fitted out an expe- dition to establish a colony in North Virginia, the name of Virginia being then given to all the continent claimed by the English. Previous to that time both French and English traders and explorers had visited the coast of Maine, and had claimed the country for their respective sovereigns. Three years before, De Monts had attempted a settlement at the mouth of the St. Croix, of which mention has been made in a previous chapter. When that ill-chosen place was aban- doned, and a better situation was sought, the French sailed along the coast, entered Penobscot Bay, Casco Bay, and the Kennebec, where they erected a cross, and formally took possession of the country in the name of their king. They found places which invited a settlement; but the natives were unfriendly, and the harbor of Port Royal seemed more attractive. Leaving this part of Acadia, as the whole region between the fortieth and forty-sixth parallels of latitude was named in the grant to De Monts, they returned to the basin of Port Royal, and established their ill-fated settlement there. Previous to this, Bartholomew Gosnold and Martin Pring had sev- erally visited the coast under the English flag, and laid claim to it in behalf of their sovereign. Traders of both nations had even before 464 WEYMOUTH SAILING UP THE PENOBSCOT. WETMOUTH ON THE PENOBSCOT. 465 this touched at some places on the coast; but Pring was the first to give any account to the English of the shores along which he sailed, as Cham- plain shortly afterwards was the first to describe them to the French. Pring spoke of the country in glowing terms, having "goodly groves and woods, and sundry sorts of beasts," while the neighboring waters abounded in fish superior to those taken at Newfoundland. George Weymouth, sent out by the Earl of Southampton and others in order to maintain the English claim of prior possession, reached the coast of Maine the same year that De Monts withdrew to Port Royal. Touching at the island of Monhegan, he sailed among the islands that stud the waters of the coast till he reached a pleasant harbor, which he named " Pentecost Harbor," near the mouth of St. George's River. Here the adventurers landed, and visited the natives, whom they found friendly, and regaled themselves on fish and game. They were highly delighted with the country, which abounded with " various sorts of trees, besides vines, currants, spruce, yew, angelica, and divers gums," while on the shores there were plenty of shell-fish, some of which contained pearls. Here they planted a small garden, and were somewhat amazed at the rapid vegetation of the seeds and growth of the plants, the first planted by English hands in Northern Virginia. From Pentecost Harbor, Weymouth proceeded to Penobscot Bay, and ascended the river in a pinnace, carrying a cross which he planted at the end of his journey. As they sailed up the broad river in the early summer, when the forests were clothed in their brightest foliage, and the grass waved green on the banks and in the shady coves, and the waters sparkled in the rays of an unclouded sun, the voyagers were delighted with the country. Some, "who had been travellers in sundry countries and in most famous rivers, affirmed them not comparable to this, the most beautiful, rich, large, secure harboring river that the world affordeth." Such was the account these visitors carried back to England of the attractions of Northern Virginia. The intercourse of Weymouth and his men with the natives had from the first been friendly, and a profitable trade had been carried on, in which the English exchanged knives and trinkets for valuable furs. But at last a dispute arose, and Weymouth seized four or five of the NO. xn. 59 466 MAINE. THE POPHAM COL ONT AT SA GADAHOCK. Indians and confined them in the hold of his ship. The natives were greatly disturbed, and resorted to various stratagems \o induce the Eng- lish to leave the ship, hoping by treachery to retaliate for the impris- onment of their friends, or to release them. Their efforts, however, were fruitless; and soon after Weymouth sailed for England, carrying four of the captives with him, and leaving in the hearts of the natives a hatred of the English which was cherished for a long time. The reports brought by Pring and Weymouth made the influential members of the Plymouth Company more anxious to plant a colony -in so attractive a region, and to -reap the advantages of a promising trade. Lord John Popham (Chief Justice of England) and Sir Ferdinando Gorges took especial interest in the enterprise, and by their efforts an expedition was fitted out for the purpose of establishing a colony. A hundred emigrants were enlisted, besides the sailors, and they were amply provided with ordnance, household utensils, agricultural and mechanical implements and supplies. A form of government was drawn up sufficiently comprehensive and grand for a great state, which its authors undoubtedly expected the colony would soon become. A colo- nial council was created, consisting of eight members, each with some sounding title of office. To one of these, George Popham, a brother of the chief justice, was given the chief command, and Raleigh Gilbert, a nephew of Sir Walter Raleigh, was the second in rank. Leaving England the last of May, the expedition arrived on the coast of Maine the 8th of August. Touching at various points, the colonists at last landed on a small island at the mouth of the Sagada- hock, and assembling on the shore, they devoutly thanked God for their safe arrival, and listened to an appropriate sermon by the clergyman who was sent out as the spiritual shepherd of the flock. The patent was read, and a code of laws promulgated; and these formalities com- pleted, the adventurers prepared to establish themselves in their new home. Some slight buildings were erected, and wells were sunk for water. But they soon found that they had made a poor choice for the site of their habitation, for the water was brackish and nauseating, and the island was too small for them to occupy with advantage, and too far from the main land to permit a free intercourse with the natives, from which they hoped to profit. They therefore abandoned the island THE HARDSHIPS OF WINTER. 467 and proceeded to the mainland on the western side of the river, where they took possession of a peninsula formed by the sea on one side and a creek on the other. It was a pleasant situation, convenient for the purposes of trade, and well adapted for habitation. Here they constructed a fort and one large house and barn, as well as several small cabins, which they found were altogether too slight for protection from the storms and cold of winter. The autumn was far advanced when their buildings were completed, and the snow-flakes had commenced to fly. What the winter would be in this untried climate they were utterly ignorant; but they made such preparation as their experience and the increasing cold suggested. Early in Decem- ber the ships which brought them over sailed for England, leaving only forty-five of the hundred emigrants to brave the rigors of the winter, and endure the hardships of a life in the wilderness. Two of the Indians whom Weymouth had carried to England returned with Popham's company to their .native land, and through their good offices the adventurers established friendly relations with the neighboring savages. They commenced a trade in furs with the " Vashaba," or great chief of that region, and with enterprise and pru- dence might have driven* a prosperous business. But like most of the expeditions fitted out at that time from Europe, the company, with the exception of the leaders, was composed of reckless and thriftless adven- turers if not criminals. They were not inclined to labor, nor to prac- tise economy or fair dealing with the natives. The winter was exceedingly severe; and, unused to the rigors of such a climate, they suffered severely in their poor habitations. It is quite probable that under such circumstances discontent and disorder prevailed. They had a good supply of provisions when the ships left; but in midwinter their storehouse was burned, and they lost a good part of their sup- plies. Sickness prevailed, though not of a fatal character, and the settlers were thoroughly disheartened. The Indians of the neighbor- hood subsequently had a tradition of another misfortune which befell the company. It was said that a quarrel occurred between the colo- nists and the natives in which one of the former was killed, and the others were driven from the fort, leaving their provisions, arms, and powder. The natives, in the course of their plunder, broke open some 468 MAINE. THE POPHAM COL ONT AT SA GADAHO CK. casks of powder, which, becoming scattered near a fire, was ignited, and the whole exploded with a fearful result. A number of Indians were killed, and, what was of more serious consequence to the colo- nists, nearly everything in the fort was destroyed. Dismayed at the report and the destruction they witnessed, the Indians supposed that it was a manifestation of the anger of the Englishman's God, and they immediately sought to make amends by offering a renewal of friendship. Whether this tradition contains the truth, or the storehouse was burnt through their own carelessness, the result to the colonists was the same. They were reduced to a short allowance of food, and were, in a measure, dependent upon the natives. They suffered more se- verely from the cold, and before spring came were in a miserable con- dition. George Popham, the president of the colony, died, and was succeeded by Raleigh Gilbert, the next in command; but it may well be believed that the imposing frame of government which had been provided was of little use in managing these half-starved and reckless adventurers. Meanwhile, upon the return of the ships to England, preparations were made, through the influence of Lord Popham and Gorges, to fit them out again with new supplies and more settlers. The vessels sailed from England well-laden with provisions, and in clue time -arrived at Sagadahock. But they brought intelligence that w r as more important in determining the fate of the colony than the ample supplies. Just before they left England, Lord Popham, the chief patron of the enterprise, and Sir John Gilbert, brother of Raleigh Gilbert, the new president, had died. This intelligence, coming to men already disheartened, put an end to the attempt at settlement. Gilbert, who was heir to his brother's estate, found it necessary to return at once to England, and none of the other high officers of the company felt any ambition to rule over a colony with such blighted prospects. Instead of landing the supplies, the demoralized adven- turers gladly embarked, and returned to England, carrying with them the most discouraging accounts of the rigors of the climate and the hostility of the natives. The country which in summer appeared so attractive to Pring and Weymouth, these incapable adventurers, as an END OF THE POPHAM COLONY. 469 excuse for their abandonment of the enterprise, represented as an intolerably cold and sterile region, "not inhabitable by our English nation." Such was the end of the Popham colony. It had no experienced leader, accustomed to hardships and fertile in resources, to instruct and encourage the adventurers in their untried difficulties. The principal men were gentlemen whose life in England had not fitted them to endure the rigor of the climate, or to meet the exigencies of a settle- ment in the wilderness. Had Captain John Smith been one of the leaders of the company, by his energy, bravery, and fertility of re- sources, he might have made the colony a permanent one; but without him the settlement at Jamestown might have been nearly as short-lived as that at Sagadahock. LIV. MAINE. -PLANTATIONS AND TRADING-POSTS. [FTER the failure of the Popham colony, no attempt was made by the Plymouth Company to plant another, though the coast was frequently visited by English ves- sels for fishing and trading purposes, and at various points temporary stations were established. Though the Plymouth Company was negligent, Gorges was especially anxious that the English claim to the coun- try should be maintained by a continual occupation of some parts of it; but he found it difficult to induce any parties to em- igrate for the purpose of settling. He encouraged adventurers, however, to visit the shores of Maine, and sent out Richard Vines to explore the coast, collect facts in relation to the country, and select an eligible situation for the establishment of a colony. Vines was engaged in this business at the time of the pestilence which swept away large numbers of the Indians between Narragansett and the Penobscot, several years before the Pilgrims landed at Plymouth, and he passed a winter in the cabins of the natives during the prevalence of the disease. But though the Indians were stricken down with it all about, and in the same cab- ins where the Englishman found shelter, neither Vines nor any of his companions were attacked by it. Vines was a physician, but he does not appear to have given any distinct idea of the character of the fatal disease. He found the winter more tolerable than the Popham colo- nists had represented it, and the country sufficiently attractive to induce him to make further visits, and to obtain from Gorges a grant of lands 470 CAPTAIN SMITH'S FAILURE. 471 on the river Saco. He was at Saco in 1617, and between that year and 1623 he established a settlement there, in a very small way, and was the first permanent English settler in Maine. From the first he took pains to conciliate the Indians, and always lived on friendly terms with them, driving a profitable trade in furs. A fair explorer, he had given Gorges a very good description of the coast and the character of the country, and when established af Saco he made himself ac- quainted with the region in that vicinity. In 1642, he went up the Saco River to the White Mountains, and if he was not the first white man who visited that Alpine region, he was the first to give any idea of the height of the mountains and their distance from the coast. He had been preceded by a man from Exeter, who visited the moun- tains the previous year, and brought back wonderful stories of the glittering stones he saw. Previous to the expedition of Vines, Captain Smith explored the coast from the Penobscot to Cape Cod, and subsequently made a map of it, and gave to the country the name of New England. Smith's report revived the desire to colonize the country, and he labored ear- nestly to enlist the nobility and merchants in an expedition for that purpose. The desire to colonize, however, was greatly in excess of the desire to emigrate for the purpose of settling in this wilderness. He succeeded in securing the outfit of three vessels, but only fifteen settlers were obtained, and these were hired for the purpose. Smith prepared to sail in the spring of 1617, with the intention of commen- cing a colony; but he was so long delayed by head winds that he finally abandoned the undertaking, and the country he had named did not experience the advantage of his energy and ability in the establishment of a settlement. The Plymouth Company, having obtained a new and more favorable charter, made extensive grants to Gorges and John Mason. The Eng- lish claimed the territory of Acadia, where the French had established some settlements, and through the freebooter Argall had asserted their rights. But the French had subsequently maintained possession by continuing their small trading-posts ; and Gorges, fearful that they would extend their settlements into New England, a part of which at least they claimed to be included in Acadia, succeeded in obtaining a 472 MAINE. PLANTATIONS AND TRADING-POSTS. patent from the king granting to Sir William Alexander of Scotland the greater part of Acadia, to which was then given the name of Nova Scotia. It was intended to settle the country thus granted with Scotch emigrants; but the attempts made were not very successful, though Sir William at last succeeded, " after subduing the French, or removing 1 O } o them to Virginia," in planting one colony there, and holding possession of the territory until it was transferred by treaty to the French. Gorges, having thus secured a barrier against French aggression, projected an extensive plan for colonizing the region between the Mer- rimack and Sagadahock, of which a patent had been granted to him and Mason under the name of the " Province of Laconia." A number of merchants and others were induced to join with the grantees in forming a company for the purpose of establishing settlements and prosecuting the fur trade and fisheries. Under the auspices of this company a number of vessels visited the coast, and trading-posts and fishing villages were commenced, some of which became permanent settlements. Monhegan was an island which had for some years before this been frequently visited by the English fishing-vessels, and occupied from time to time for the purpose of curing fish. In 1622, through the enterprise of Gorges and his associates, it became a continuous settle- ment, though its inhabitants were constantly changing. Similar settle- ments or plantations were soon after commenced at Sagadahock, Pemaquid, Damariscotta, and some other places. They were small affairs, and the settlers had not come out of any devotion to principle, or to escape persecution, like the Pilgrims at New Plymouth, but for the purposes of gain, and not a few of them as hired servants of the merchants in England. They were, however, the early pioneers in the settlement of Maine. As soon as colonization was commenced, the Plymouth Company determined to unite all the settlements, including New Plymouth, under one civil government. They accordingly sent out Robert Gorges as governor-in-chief, with Francis West as admiral, and William Morrell, an Episcopal minister, as superintendent of religious affairs. Neither of these officers met with much success in their respective departments, and were quite ignored by the Pilgrims at Plymouth. Gorges and West THE ENTERPRISE OF GORGES. 473 succeeded, however, in exciting opposition among the traders and fish- ermen, and complaints were so loud in England that the Commons demanded a surrender of the Plymouth Company's charter. Gorges defended the company with great spirit and ability ; but parliament complained to the king that the charter was a grievance to the nation which they desired should be recalled. Though the king did not com- ply with the demand, public sentiment was so strong against the com- pany and its recent proceedings that its plans and expeditions were abandoned, and Robert Gorges was called home. Disappointed in his more ambitious efforts, Gorges determined to plant a colony at his own expense. He selected a place on Agamen- ticus or York River, and sent out a party of emigrants better selected and better provided for the founding of a permanent colony than any that had hitherto come to the coast of Maine. There were artisans to build vessels and saw-mills as well as houses, and laborers with oxen to clear and cultivate the ground, and to get timber. It was designed to be a self-supporting colony, and Gorges during his life exerted him- self to make it successful and prosperous. When Charles I. came to the throne of England, and married a French princess, the marriage treaty provided that the jurisdiction of Acadia should be resigned to France. This treaty conflicted with royal grants already made, and created not a little feeling among the English people who were interested in the trade with the new world. Gorges succeeded in obtaining a postponement of the concessions agreed upon in the treaty, and Sir William Alexander procured from the king a confirmation of his grant. The king also resisted the demands of the advocates of free fisheries that the charter of the Plymouth Company should be revoked. A war with France followed soon afterwards, during which there were few attempts to establish plantations or trading-posts. At the close of the war, the rising contention between the king and the people caused great numbers to desire a refuge in the new world. The Plymouth Company, apparently ignoring the patent already granted to Gorges, and probably with his acquiescence, proceeded to make new grants of the territory between the Merrimack and the Penobscot to the various applicants, and in a few years had thus conveyed all the NO. xu. 60 474 MAINE. PLANTATIONS AND TRADING-POSTS. land along the coast between those rivers. But under none of these patents was any considerable colony established. The grants were made chiefly to English merchants and others, who sent out agents and ser- vants to commence plantations, but had no idea of going themselves. One grant, ridiculed as the " Plough Patent," was made to parties who undertook to plant a small agricultural colony at Sagadahock. It con- sisted of "ten husbandmen," and considerable money was expended in providing for improvements. But the company soon became dissatis- fied, and at the end of one year abandoned the enterprise. The adven- turers who came to Maine at that period had a great contempt for agriculture, and of all other pursuits except the fisheries and fur-trading. Among the patents granted at this time was one of a tract on the Kennebec to the Pilgrim colony of New Plymouth. As early as 1625, the settlers at Plymouth had sent their shallop up the Kennebec to trade for furs. Before that, they had visited Monhegan for provisions, and had learned that an advantageous trade could be carried on in this region. In 1627, they had procured a patent to secure to themselves the exclusive right to trade on the Kennebec; but the limits of the patent and the privileges granted were rather indefinite, and when other grants were rapidly disposing of the territory, a new and more certain patent was obtained. For many years the Plymouth people maintained their trading-house on the Kennebec, and carried on a fair business with the natives, obtain- ing from them furs which were subsequently exchanged for the supplies needed by the colony. The trading-house was managed by a master and two or three assistants, and their trade was so fairly conducted, and they were always so friendly, that the Indians found no cause for complaint. But in 1639, the natives of that region, from some cause, were short of provisions, and a party of them determined to take what they supposed was the easiest way of supplying their immediate wants, namely, to kill the Englishmen and seize their stores. To put their plan into execution, they happened to select Sunday, which the Plymouth men observed as strictly as their brethren at home. Coming stealthily about the house, several of the Indians found the master reading his Bible, and his usually cheerful face wore an exceedingly solemn expression. When they entered the house, he was greatly disturbed by this inter- TRADING-POSTS OF THE PILGRIMS. 475 ruption of his meditations and desecration of the quiet Sabbath-time, and he received them with a cold and severe manner quite unlike his usual friendly and familiar greeting. The master's solemn and perhaps angry look, and the book, which was then regarded by the Indians as a supernatural charm, immediately aroused their superstitious fears, and believing that he had divined their purpose by consulting the sacred pages, they abandoned their bloody design. The Plymouth settlers appear to have been quite as enterprising as any of the adventurers who established trading-posts on the coast of Maine. In 1626 they erected a trading-house on Penobscot Bay, and opened a traffic with the Indians of that region, exchanging wampum, procured from the Wampanoags and Narragansetts, for beaver-skins and other furs. This was the most easterly trading-post of the English on the coast of Maine, and when the claims of France to Acadia were again asserted, it was exposed to the attacks of the French. The treaty of St. Germains, which followed the war above referred to, surrendered to France all the places occupied by British subjects in New France and Acadia, thus at last carrying out the provisions of the marriage treaty. Acadia was the name applied by the French to a region of indefinite extent westward, while the English considered that it was only coextensive with the territory they called Nova Scotia. Here was a fine opportunity for dispute and contention, and it was for a long time improved. The trading-post of the Plymouth colony on Penobscot Bay, being the most easterly establishment of the English, was the most exposed to aggression by the French, and was the first to suffer from it. One fine morning in June, 1632, the commander of the post, with a number of men, started out on a trading excursion among the Indians, leaving three or four men in charge of the fortified house. During the absence of this party, a French vessel appeared in the bay, and, approaching the post, represented that they had put into the harbor in distress, and asked permission to repair their leaky vessel and refresh themselves. The favor was readily granted by the men at the post, and the Frenchmen were invited to come on shore. The invitation was accepted ; and having landed, and entered the fort, they discovered its weak condition, and immediately abandoned the character of needy mariners and became 476 MAINE. PLANTATIONS AND TRADING-POSTS. freebooters. Seizing the arms, they ordered the unsuspecting keepers of the trading-house to surrender, on pain of death; and they then com- menced plundering the place of all its valuable contents. A stock of furs and all the arms and provisions were taken, and the unfortunate keepers were compelled to aid in loading the booty on board the boat. Having thus treacherously rifled the post, the robbers sailed away, bid- ding the luckless Englishmen tell their master to "remember the Isle of Re," the scene of a brilliant victory of the French over the Eng- lish in the then recent war. With such men as Bradford and Miles Standish to encourage them, the Plymouth colonists were not dismayed by this act of piracy, although the loss was to them a serious one. They still maintained the station, and continued their traffic; and the next year they went farther east, and established a new trading-house at Machias, which they garrisoned with five or six trusty men, well armed, being determined to hold per- manent possession of the place. Meanwhile, after the surrender of Acadia by the English, the French monarch made extensive grants in that territory to some of his sub- jects. The chief of these grants was to Razilla, the French officer who received the surrender; and a subordinate one was to La Tour, a Prot- estant, who had previously obtained a grant from Sir William Alexan- der, and fortified it by confirmations from both the English and the French kings. La Tour's object was a profitable traffic, and, with an arrogant spirit and a somewhat violent temper, he determined to suffer no interference with what he claimed as his exclusive rights. When he heard that the English had established a trading-house at Machias, he at once determined to destroy it, because it was too near, though not within his grant. It was at least within the domain of the king of France, as he claimed, and could not be permitted to exist. Pro- ceeding with a sufficient force to Machias, he demanded the surrender of the post. This was refused by the little garrison, who undertook to defend their charge. Two of them, however, were killed by the assailants, who then gained possession of the house. Rifling it of every- thing that was valuable, La Tour returned to Port Royal, taking with him the surviving defenders as prisoners. The Plymouth colonists sent Mr. Allerton to Port Royal to recover PILGRIM TRADING-POSTS DESTROYED. 477 the men and goods, but the messenger met with a cold and haughty reception from La Tour. When Mr. Allerton demanded by what author- ity he had seized the men and property, he arrogantly replied, " I have taken them as lawful prize; my authority is from the king of France, who claims the coast from Cape Sable to Cape Cod. I wish the Eng- lish to understand, if they trade to the eastward of Pemaquid, I shall seize them, and my sword is all the commission I shall show." Some years afterwards the son of La Tour applied to Massachusetts for aid against his rival D'AuInay; and, in striking contrast with his father's arrogance, his manner was so pleasing and persuasive that he secured the good will of many of the leading men of the colony, and obtained, if not the open alliance of the Puritan government, permission to fit out an expedition against D'AuInay, who was then besieging his fort at St. John's. Two or three years afterwards, the trading-post of the Plymouth colonists at Penobscot shared the fate of that at Machias. General Razilla, the chief officer and representative of France in Acadia, sent D'AuInay, his subordinate, in a ship of war to take possession of the country as far as Pemaquid. That officer, who was of a violent tem- per and greedy of gain, finding the Plymouth trading-house within the jurisdiction claimed for France, plundered it of its contents, and drove the men away, bidding them tell their friends that a French fleet would be sent against all the English settlements as far south as the fortieth degree. " And know," he added, " that my commission is from the king of France!" But the commission from the king of France did not deter the peaceful Pilgrims from asserting their rights. They chartered a large vessel, armed it, and dispatched it to the Penobscot, under the com- mand of a Captain Girling, while the doughty Miles Standish, the faith- ful defender of the colony, accompanied it in a shallop. Girling was hired to recapture the place, and was to receive a quantity of beaver- skins if he succeeded, and nothing if he failed. Anxious to win the beaver, he commenced firing at too long range for his guns, and wasted his ammunition without effect. While the French laughed at his inef- fectual shots, and Standish looked on with anger and contempt, Girling found that he had burnt all his powder without earning the beaver. 478 MAINE. PLANTATIONS AND TRADING-POSTS. The attempt to recover the post thus failed, and Standish, after furnish- ing Girling with more powder, returned in disgust to Plymouth, to tell the colonists that they must thereafter confine their trading to the Kennebec. Meanwhile the other settlements or plantations on the coast of Maine, with two or three exceptions, were scarcely more permanent than the trading-posts of the Pilgrims. They were occupied by 'adven- turous traders, or hirelings, who had no desire or purpose to settle permanently in the country, and were ready to leave as soon as profit or pay ceased. In England the Plymouth Company was unable to con- tend longer with the assaults of merchants and rival companies against its charter, . and notwithstanding the efforts of Gorges in its defence, it was forced to yield to public opinion if not to the royal revocation. Before dissolving, the company divided their patent into twelve royal provinces which were to be drawn by lot in the presence of the king. Two of these were assigned to Gorges, who alone seems to have taken much interest in colonizing America; and few if any of the other divisions were ever formally granted by royal charter. Gorges was ambitious to secure for his family vast proprietary rights in New England, and a position of honor as well as profit there. When the king appointed " Lords Commissioners of all his American Plantations," Gorges ob- tained through them a commission as Governor-General of New Eng- land. A man-of-war was built to convey him to his new domain, and to remain there for the defence of the country. But in launching, this vessel was so damaged that she could not be sent to sea, and no other being provided, Gorges never came to exercise the authority he coveted. Domestic affairs so occupied the attention of the king and parliament that no further attempt was made at that time to establish a general government in New England; and Gorges himself, abandoning all thought of it, devoted his attention only to the success of plantations within his own patent. The settlement at Agamenticus was the object of his special regard and care. In 1641 he gave it a charter as a town or borough, and invested the inhabitants with power to choose a mayor and eight alder- men, who were to make laws, erect fortifications, hold courts, and exer- cise other powers of government over a territory extending three miles A FALSE ALARM. THE CITY OF GEORGIANA. 479 every way from the church chapel. The exclusive privileges granted the inhabitants of Agamenticus brought them in conflict with the pro- vincial government ; but the difference was amicably settled by the latter recognizing the immunities of the borough. The next year, Gorges, desirous of showing still greater favor to the settlement, executed a new charter, by which he made it a " city," under the name of Georgiana, or Gorgeana. The territory covered by this charter contained twenty-one square miles, upon which, in scat- tered hamlets, were about two hundred and fifty inhabitants. The gov- ernment consisted of a mayor, twelve aldermen, twenty-four common councilmen, and a recorder, to be elected annually by the freeholders. Their powers were somewhat more extensive than those granted to the mayor and aldermen of the borough; and to maintain the dignity of their office as justices, the mayor and aldermen of the city were author- ized to appoint four sergeants, whose badge of office was a white rod, and who were to serve all judicial precepts. This government was authorized to make any laws it saw fit, not repugnant to the laws of England or those of the province, to erect fortifications, and generally to enjoy all the liberties and privileges granted by the charter of Bris- tol in England. The first mayor under the city charter was Edward Godfrey, one of the earliest adventurers who' settled on the coast of Maine. For more than ten years this ambitious form of municipal govern- ment performed its functions and exercised its authority over the sparsely settled territory of Georgiana. Annually the citizens or free- holders assembled and elected their mayor, aldermen, common council- men, and recorder, and as the number to be elected was no insignificant part of the whole number of electors, they must have taken great sat- isfaction in voting for each other. No very large proportion of the set- tlers were men of character and worth, and some queer people were elevated to the dignity of office. But notwithstanding all the supposed advantages of this corporate government, Georgiana increased but little during the ten years of its existence. Some persons, driven from other settlements for offences or scandalous practices, sought a refuge there, and stirred up trouble, and these were the principal accessions to the population. 480 MAINE. PLANTATIONS AND TRADING-POSTS. This corporate government was an object of ridicule and contempt with the people of Massachusetts. Winthrop, writing of affairs in Maine, says they have " lately made Agamenticus, a poor village, a corporation, and a tailor their mayor." That the Church of England was maintained there, and excommunicants and exiles from the Puritan colony found there a refuge, made the " city " an object of dislike and jealousy as well as ridicule. Gorges himself must have laughed could he have seen what sort of a city he had created here in the wilderness. Over all his twenty- one miles of "city limits" a hundred houses, perhaps, had been erected; a few of them, some built at his expense, were of a superior charac- ter, but most of them were the poor habitations of the early settlers. The inhabitants were engaged in felling trees and hewing timber, or in cultivating some small patches on their farms. When the court days came round, there was doubtless some parade to maintain the dignity of the magistrates, after the manner of the mother country, and the inhabitants made an idle day of it. We have no record of these pro- ceedings, or of the " lord-mayor's procession " which we may believe marched through the stump-obstructed "street" to the primitive town- house where the courts were held. The four sergeants, with their white wands, were of course on duty: the church-beadle, the blacksmith, the carpenter, and the shoemaker. Not over-particular in their costume, their work-day aprons, perhaps, served to cover the tatters of their clothes; .but the white wands gave them authority and distinction, which were duly reverenced by the idlers and boys who came out to witness the civic display. Preceded and followed by two of these functiona- ries, the mayor, recorder, and twelve aldermen, swelling with the dig- nity of their office, proceeded to the seat of justice. Having taken their places, the beadle, as chief of the sergeants, made proclamation, while the others, with their white rods, kept order among the people who had followed the procession into the court-house. The court being duly opened, the fourteen solemn magistrates, some of whom, doubtless, were versed in "Crowner's Quest Law," proceeded to hear complaints and try causes. But it may well be believed that the court was not overbur- dened with business, though it is only fair to suppose that justice was administered in a rough sort of way, both to offenders and suitors. ILL-CONSIDERED ATTEMPTS AT COLONIZATION. 48 1 Gorges, at least, saw how ill-considered were the attempts which had been made to establish settlements in Maine, and he himself de- scribes the character of those settlements in giving the reasons for their failure. In his narrative he wrote : :t We have been endeavoring to found plantations in a wilderness region, where men, bred up jn a land of villages, farms, and plenty, could hardly be hired to stay; or if induced to become residents, they must be fed in idleness from their master's crib, yet with few or no returns. . . . Trade, fishing, lum- ber, these have been the phantoms of pursuit; while there has been a criminal neglect of husbandry the guide to good habits, the true source of wealth, and the almoner of human life." But Gorges discovered too late the mistaken policy under which adventurers had been sent to Maine. His opportunities for planting a successful colony had passed away, and it was left for others to profit by his experience. The permanent settlements of Maine were estab- lished, and slowly increased, independent, for the most part, of the schemes of great proprietors and avaricious merchants. NO. XIII. 6 1 LV. CONFLICTS OF RIVAL FRENCH CLAIMANTS. N the early part of the seventeenth century an appeal to the "dread arbitrament of "war" was the usual way of settling the disputes of nations or factions. Might made right, and force was resorted to more frequently than diplomacy to settle rival claims even of a petty nature. The grants of the French king and the com- pany of New France in Acadia were as conflicting as those from the Plymouth Company in Maine, and led to contentions which seriously affected the English colonies. To Gen- eral Razilla had been given the command of the whole Acadian coun- try when it was transferred by England to France. La Tour had purchased an extensive tract from Sir William Alexander before the transfer, and had also obtained a grant from the French monarch, which had been recognized by Razilla. He claimed the territory from the basin of Minas to Passamaquoddy as exclusively under his jurisdiction, and established himself at the mouth of the river St. John, where he constructed fortifications, and whence he undertook to carry on a traffic with the Indians and the English settlements. La Tour, however, had a formidable rival who had obtained a grant and located himself to the westward of the former, on the eastern side of Penobscot Bay. He also raised fortifications, and established himself, as if permanently, in the neighborhood of a good harbor on the one side, and of a numerous tribe of Indians on the other. D'Aulnay was a subordinate officer of Razilla, arid when that general died, in 482 LA TOUR AND D'AULNAT. 483 1635, he considered himself as his successor, and entitled to exercise authority over territory claimed by La Tour, and as far westward as the Penobscot. La Tour was not disposed to submit to any authority superior to his own, and contentions soon arose between the rival claim- ants. Numerous petty contests respecting jurisdiction took place, and, in order to quiet them, the king of France ordered D'Aulnay to confine his authority to the country of the " Etechenims," as the Indians be- tween the St. John and the Penobscot were called. La Tour was a Protestant, and D'Aulnay was a Catholic; and while Catholics and Huguenots were fighting in France, it was not to be expected that these rivals, of different faiths, would smother their am- bition or their enmity so far away from any paramount authority. Their contests took on something of the color of the religious contest of the old country. D'Aulnay relied on the Catholics in France and the Jesuit missionaries in' Acadia for support of his pretensions, and La Tour looked to the Puritans of New England for countenance of his rival claims, and even for material aid. He sent a messenger to Boston proposing a treaty or agreement for free trade between Massachusetts and his settlement, and that Massachusetts should also furnish him with assistance in a war against D'Aulnay. The proposal for free trade was readily accepted, but the other proposal was not acceded to, as La Tour's authority to enter into such an alliance for hostile purposes was not shown. La Tour, the next year, went to Boston himself, where he made a favorable impression, and concluded an agreement for free trade, while as a Protestant he felt assured of the sympathy of the Puritans as against his Catholic antagonist. A profitable trade with La Tour's settlement was commenced by the merchants of Boston, and continued for a short time, when it was suddenly brought to a close by D'Aulnay. That officer had not been idle while his rival was at work, and through the machinations of his friends in France he had procured an order from the king for the arrest of La Tour as a rebel and outlaw. One of the Boston vessels, touch- ing at Pemaquid, on its return from St. John, chanced to fall in with D'Aulnay. Learning whence the vessel had come, D'Aulnay gave the master a copy of the decree of outlawry against La Tour, and bade him "take it to the governor of Massachusetts, and tell him, if vessels 484 CONFLICTS OF RIVAL FRENCH CLAIMANTS. dare persist in a trade between the English colonies and St. John, I will make prize of them." Having procured this formidable order for the termination of his rival's career, D'Aulnay did not long content himself with threats. Unlike the English colonists, he had a considerable military force at his command; and while La Tour, through his partisans in France, was endeavoring to obtain a revocation of the order, or a mitigation of the penalties pronounced against him, D'Aulnay organized an expe- dition against St. John, consisting of several armed vessels with five hun- dred men. With this force he blockaded the harbor of St. John, and closely besieged La Tour's fort, relying on famine, rather than assault, for its reduction. Supplies had not been collected within the fort in anticipation of a siege, and the aspect of affairs for La Tour was gloomy enough, as he saw little prospect of relief. While troubled with anxious forebodings as to his fate should he be captured by D'Aulnay, La Tour saw in the offing a long-expected ship from France, laden with supplies, and bearing a large number of Prot- estant fugitives. He determined, if possible, to intercept her before she should fall into the hands of his enemy; and leaving the fort, accompanied by his wife, he put off in a boat, and succeeded in reaching her while at some distance from D'Aulnay's squadron. As soon as he was on board, the ship bore away for Boston, where she arrived in safety. There La Tour earnestly sought the aid of the Puritans against his Catholic antagonist, whom he represented as their natural enemy. He met with much sympathy; and Madame La Tour com- mended herself as a pious Protestant, whose influence ably seconded her husband's entreaties. While some of the Puritans were ready to afford the desired aid against a national and religious enemy, there were others who as strenuously objected to taking part in a contest between foreign factions, and presented strong arguments why the Massachusetts government should remain neutral. Massachusetts, indeed, as one of the new confederacy of colonies, could not engage in a war without the assent of the commissioners, and such consent was hopeless. But though the government could take no action, La Tour was informed that he could charter ships, and enlist as many volunteers as he could induce to join him, at his own expense. He promptly acted on this Z?' 'A ULNA T AND THE PURITANS. 485 suggestion, and mortgaging his property at St. John to raise the means, he chartered four vessels, armed them with thirty-eight guns, and, besides the crews, enlisted nearly a hundred soldiers. With this squad- ron, and the French ship that had brought him to Boston, he sailed for St. John. D'Aulnay was far from expecting a hostile visit when this squadron appeared and commenced a sudden and furious attack. He was com- pelled to leave his station and seek safety in flight. His enemy gave chase, and pursued him to Penobscot, where he ran three of his ves- sels on shore, and fortified his position in the most expeditious manner. A party of La Tour's men landed, and an engagement ensued, in which a number were killed and wounded on each side, but without any decisive result. The commander of the chartered squadron declined to continue longer in La Tour's service, the object of the expedition having been accomplished in driving D'Aulnay away from St. John. Having captured one of his ships well-laden with furs, the squadron returned to Boston to divide the spoils. Meanwhile the Massachusetts authorities had dispatched a messen- ger to Penobscot to inform D'Aulnay, that, though they would not have been " backward to do themselves justice " had he molested them in their right of free trade, yet, as a colony, they had taken no part in La Tour's expedition, and had simply permitted him to fit it out at -his own expense. D'Aulnay was not prepared to quarrel with Massachu- setts, but he determined to crush his rival in spite of her, and to stop all trade between the English colonists and La Tour. An attempt to carry out the latter purpose led to a rash and foolish conflict which greatly exasperated D'Aulnay. Three men of some distinction in their respective settlements, Vines of Saco, Shurt of Pemaquid, and Wannerton of New Hampshire, to whom La Tour was indebted, took passage for St. John for the pur- pose of collecting the money due them. On the way, they stopped at Penobscot, where they were forcibly detained by D'Aulnay, and were with some difficulty liberated, after several days' detention, by the influ- ence of Shurt, to whom D'Aulnay was indebted for favors. Proceeding then to St. John, they did not succeed in collecting their dues; but they heard that D'Aulnay's garrison was small, and short of supplies; and 486 CONFLICTS OF RIVAL FRENCH CLAIMANTS. Wannerton, who was a man of violent temper, and felt a bitter .resent- ment for the wrong and indignity he had suffered at Penobscot, deter- mined to be revenged. He collected a party of twenty men, armed them, and sailed for Penobscot. Landing his men, he proceeded to D'Aulnay's farm-house, five or six miles from the fort. Wannerton knocked at the door, and fiercely demanded admission. As the door was opened, he received a shot, and fell, mortally wounded. His men rushed in, and, returning the fire, killed one of the inmates, when the others surrendered. The assailants then set fire to the house, killed the cattle, and destroyed all else. They then departed, before D'Aulnay received intelligence of the outrage. When he heard of it, the choleric Frenchman was enraged, and, with violent threats, he issued orders to make prize of every vessel of the English colonies found east of Penobscot. When his threats were known in Boston, the governor demanded an explanation, and assured him that, while La Tour could not expect more aid from the colonists, the right to trade at St. John would be protected. The Massachusetts colony was already strong enough to be respected; and D'Aulnay after- wards acknowledged that he had been hasty, and sent an agent to Boston to negotiate a treaty, and to show his authority for proceeding against La Tour as an outlaw. The Massachusetts authorities, in the negotiations that followed, endeavored to bring about a reconciliation between the rival Frenchmen; but D'Aulnay's representative assured them that nothing but complete submission would save La Tour's head, and that his wife, who was then in Boston, should not be permitted to go to St. John, as she was the cause of his rebellion. A treaty of amity and free trade was, however, agreed to by the governor and D'Aulnay's agent, subject to ratification by the ruler of Penobscot and the Commissioners of the United Colonies. Madame La Tour had arrived in Boston a short time before D'Aul- nay's messenger. She had been to Europe in her husband's behalf, and had taken passage in an English vessel, the master of which had engaged to carry her to St. John; but the vessel had made a circuitous voyage, touching at various places for trade, and, after a long and tedious pas- sage, instead of going to St. John, landed her at Boston. She was a woman of unusual energy; and, indignant that she should be so long MADAME LA TOUR. 487 detained, and then, in violation of the contract made with her, left at a place so distant from her destination, to reach which she would now be exposed to capture by D'Aulnay, she commenced suits against the master of the ship for bringing her to Boston, and against the mer- chant who had chartered the ship, for an unnecessary detention of nearly six months on board. She laid her damages in a sum sufficient to enable her to provide an outfit strong enough to resist any attempt of D'Aulnay to capture her. The suits were tried before the Court of Assistants, and, whether from the justice of her cause, or the influence of her character and presence, she was successful. She recovered two thousand pounds, a very large sum in those days, and with the money she promptly chartered three English ships then lying in Boston harbor, and sailed to St. John. Meanwhile D'Aulnay, at Penobscot, had heard of Madame La Tour's presence in Boston, and confidently reckoned on her capture, which he desired almost as much as that of La Tour himself, on account of her earnest Protestantism and her important service to her husband. When he learned that she had left Boston, and in such a way as to defy any attempt to intercept her, he was greatly disappointed, and in his anger he declared he would pay no regard to the treaty entered into with those perfidious Puritans. Moreover, he vowed he would yet make a prisoner of this brave lady, and execute his rival. When Madame La Tour arrived at St. John, her husband was absent on a trading or marauding expedition. She took command of the fort, and prepared, with a slender garrison, to defend it against any attack; and she drove away some Jesuits who, in her absence, had established themselves at the settlement. The priests, in time, found means to inform D'Aulnay that La Tour was absent, and his fort was in a weak condition and could be easily captured. The angry com- mander of Penobscot determined to improve the opportunity, and, early in the spring, he proceeded in an armed ship to St. John. On the way, he fell in with a vessel from Massachusetts, laden with supplies, and, true to his threat to pay no regard to the treaty recently nego- tiated, he seized it, and put the crew ashore on a desolate island, with- out arms, compass, or the means of making a fire. The snow was deep, and the weather cold; and, deprived of a part of their clothing, 488 CONFLICTS OF RIVAL FRENCH CLAIMANTS. and sheltered only by a dilapidated hut, the unfortunate crew suffered intensely. D'Aulnay proceeded with his prize to St. John, and, moor- ing his ship before the fort, commenced an attack, which at first seemed to have considerable effect. But Madame La Tour, who commanded the garrison in the absence of her husband, was not disposed to have the fort battered down without resistance, and the guns of the fort were so well served that twenty of D'Aulnay's men were killed, and a num- ber of others wounded, while his ship was so much damaged that he was glad to warp her away under a protecting bluff" for repairs. -Unable to renew the attack, D'Aulnay returned more angry than ever to Penobscot. On the way, he took the suffering crew from the island where he had left them, and from Penobscot sent them home in a miserable shallop, half clothed, and with a scanty supply of pro- visions. For this outrage, Massachusetts sent a messenger to demand immediate satisfaction, charging him with violating a sacred treaty. But D'Aulnay had not yet ratified the treaty, and utterly refused to do so, and threatened the Massachusetts colony with his sovereign's hos- tility. Assuming that he was the injured party, he said he would wait for an explanation of the conduct of the Puritan colony till the next spring. Unwilling to resort to hostilities, Massachusetts concluded to wait till a more favorable time for negotiation. After a long delay, during which D'Aulnay effectually stopped all trade between the English settlements and St. John, he sent three com- missioners to Boston to treat with the colonial government, and to demand a payment of damages for injuries done at various times. This demand was considered preposterous by the governor and magistrates of Massachusetts, who summed up a much greater loss by the colo- nists from D'Aulnay's unwarrantable interference with their rights. They resolved, however, to be generous, and, waiving their own de- mands, to send an elegant present to the choleric Frenchman to flatter his pride and testify their friendly disposition. Some time previous to this, a Spanish viceroy in Mexico had sent a costly sedan as a present to his sister in the West Indies. By some mischance this sedan, instead of reaching the lady for whom it was intended, fell into the hands of an English sea-captain, who brought it to Boston and presented it to Governor Winthrop. The governor was MADAME LA TOUR A PRISONER AT PENOBSCOT. MADAME LA TOUR A PRISONER. 489 not disposed to use this luxury, and perhaps had a lurking prejudice against it as formerly belonging -to Papists, or some doubts as to the morality of the manner in which it had come into the possession of the giver. Here was an opportunity to get rid of a piece of trouble- some furniture, and at the same time to turn it to good account. Stolen from Papists, it might very properly be bestowed upon a Papist, and be no longer a constant reminder of doubts and scruples. Accord- ingly the sedan was sent to the ruler of Penobscot, as a token of the good will of the governor and magistrates of Massachusetts. The previ- ously rejected treaty of peace and amity was signed; but how D'Aulnay received the present as a satisfaction of his demands is not recorded, though Madame D'Aulnay, doubtless, greatly enjoyed the sedan. The prevention of trade between the English colonies and St. John reduced that place to want; and before the close of the winter after D'Aulnay's treaty with Massachusetts, La Tour again left his fort in the charge of his wife, and went on a cruise for provisions. From the Jesuits, who still held communication with St. John, D'Aulnay learned the condition of the garrison, and proceeded with all the force he could command to make another attack. Madame La Tour again defended the place with a bravery worthy of a nobler husband; but D'Aulnay made a fierce assault, and, after the loss of a number of men, succeeded in carrying the fort. He took Madame La Tour a prisoner, and put the small garrison of French and English to the sword. He then plundered the place of all that was valuable, and returned to Penobscot with his prisoner, and spoils amounting to many thousand pounds. Arriving at Penobscot, D'Aulnay conducted his prisoner into his fortified and rather extensive house. As he led her into the hall, he said, with the manner of a courtier, but with a tone of triumph, " Madame, it gives me the greatest pleasure to welcome you to my abode. You shall have whatever comforts we ourselves enjoy; but remember, you are my prisoner, and if you attempt to escape, some- thing disagreeable may happen." BtSobft LlbfUTj Then turning to Madame D'Aulnay, who approached, he said to her, " Madame, permit me to introduce to you the wife of my greatest NO. xrn. 62 49 CONFLICTS OF RIVAL FRENCH CLAIMANTS. enemy, nay, my greatest enemy herself, since it is her heresy and energy that inspire her husband's rebellion." Madame D'Aulnay received the unfortunate prisoner with haughty coldness. She had no word or look of sympathy for a sister in her misfortune. She was a bigoted Catholic, and Madame La Tour was known as an earnest Protestant, whose heresy she regarded with feel- ings akin to horror. She congratulated her husband on his success with an air of triumph which drove the steel deeper into the heart of the brave but unhappy prisoner, who, without further parley, was con- ducted to the apartment assigned her. Little did Madame D'Aulnay then think that in a few years she would succeed this unfortunate woman as the wife of La Tour. Madame La Tour was detained at Penobscot as a close prisoner; but her captivity was speedily ended. A firm Protestant, she had been driven from her native France by Catholic persecution, and with untiring devotion she had labored to advance her husband's interests. Separated from him now, as she might well believe, forever, and in the hands of her most inveterate enemy, she could not endure the indignities to which she was subjected, and the utter ruin which had overwhelmed her husband's estate while in her charge. Her spirits sank, and her health failed, and, within three weeks after she was made a prisoner, she died of grief. D'Aulnay's triumph was complete; for he rightly believed that it was Madame La Tour's spirit which had sustained his rival in their long contest, and, though he might have wished that she had lived to be the means of ultimately capturing her husband, he felt sure that La Tour's career was ended. But La Tour, despite his present misfortunes, was destined in the end to triumph over his enemy. Returning to St. John to find that his wife was the prisoner of his bitter enemy, and that he was despoiled of all his property except his thrice-mortgaged lands, unable to find the means even for a paltry trade, he sought assistance from Sir David Kirk, at Newfoundland. Disappointed there, he obtained a passage to Boston, where he had the assurance to ask for further aid, notwith- standing the debts he still owed for former relief. By his plausible words, and his seductive manners, he succeeded in gaining the good will of several merchants, who furnished him with a vessel manned by LA TOUR TURNS PIRATE. a crew of Englishmen and Frenchmen, and well supplied with articles with which he might traffic with the Indians. No longer guided by his wife, and having neither her, nor home, nor property to hold him to even the appearance of an honest life, La Tour determined to add piracy to the fraud with which he had already wronged his English friends. He conspired with the master of the vessel, and some of the French crew, to put the Englishmen ashore, and run away with the vessel and cargo. This project was not carried out without resistance on the part of the Englishmen, one of whom was wounded by La Tour; but, after a fierce struggle, they were over- come, and left upon a desolate shore, in midwinter, where they would have perished but for the succor of some friendly Indians. Having committed this act of cruelty and piracy, La Tour sailed away on some unknown expedition, and disappeared from the waters of Nova Scotia and Maine for several years. During that time, D'Aul- nay lived undisturbed by any rival claims, and asserted his authority, unquestioned, over Nova Scotia, and the territory of Maine east of the Penobscot. He was a bigoted Catholic, and his settlement at Penob- scot was the resort of the Jesuits and other missionaries who thence extended their labors among the Indians, and gained an influence with them which secured their friendship to the French and their enmity to the English settlers. While the outlawed La Tour was absent in parts unknown, D'Aulnay died. Some months after that event the wan- derer again appeared, and possessing still the accomplishments and manners which had secured the good will of the Puritans of Boston, he became a successful suitor for the hand of his old enemy's widow, and succeeded to his place and estate. This good fortune, however, did not make him any more disposed to do justice to those who had befriended him in his adversity; and merchants of Boston who had been beguiled into investments on his fair promises were never repaid. Within the borders of Maine the French had settlements at Penob- scot, Mount Desert, Machias, and on the St. Croix. The settlers, gen- erally, were of a poor quality, ignorant, unenterprising, and indolent, under the control of a military government and a bigoted priesthood, and the settlements were far from flourishing. The French, however, were always on good terms with the Indians, among whom the priests 492 CONFLICTS OF RIVAL FRENCH CLAIMANTS. labored with a certain sort of success in making converts, the ceremo- nies of the Catholic church appealing forcibly to the superstition of the natives. French and Indians mingled freely, and often lived together in the wigwams of the latter. D'Aulnay and La Tour, in their traffic, furnished the natives with fire-arms and ammunition, contrary to the general policy of the English colonists. But while the French held such cordial relations with the Indians, the possession and use of fire- arms by the latter boded evil only to the English settlers. Hostility to the English was artfully encouraged by officers and priests, and in time led to many outrages and the shedding of much blood. In this connection, mention may be made of the career of a French- man some years after the period already referred to. After his marriage of D'Aulnay's widow, La Tour rebuilt his fort and residence at St. John, and enjoyed several years of quiet. St. John, Penobscot, and several other French forts and settlements, were then captured by a naval force fitted out at Boston. This force was intended to operate against the Dutch at New Netherlands; but peace having been made before the armament was ready, it was sent with some of the English ships that had come to reduce New Amsterdam to assert the old claim of a prior right to all the territory east of the Penobscot. The French were unpre- pared for such unsuspected hostilities, France and England being then at peace, and the forts were easily captured. Notwithstanding the cir- cumstances under which the places were captured, Cromwell refused to restore them, and the territory was held by the English for a dozen years or more, when it was again surrendered by Charles II. to the French. During this interval there came to America, among the officers of the French troops, the Baron St. Castine, who, after some years of service, when his regiment was disbanded, received a liberal grant of lands, in common with his fellow-officers. Castine, with a few follow- ers, settled at a place on the eastern shore of Penobscot Bay, which still bears his name. There he established a trading-house of consid- erable importance ; but he seems to have been disgusted with the uneventful life of such a settlement, and, plunging into the wilderness, he took up his abode with the Abenaqui or Terratine Indians. He was enamoured with savage life, and adapted himself to it so readily that THE BARON CASTINE. 493 he soon won the respect of the savages. He learned their language, taught them the advantages of military organization, and acquired so great an influence over them that they made him a great chief. To maintain his influence, and identify himself more fully with the tribe, he accepted the hand of a daughter of one of the chiefs, who was offered to him as a wife. He was made the great war-chief of the nation, and could summon all the warriors to follow him in any war- like expedition he chose to undertake. He was always on the side of the French, and^ hostile to the English, by whom he was regarded with fear and jealousy. He led his dusky warriors in several attacks on the English posts, captured Pemaquid, and fought in several engagements in Canada and Nova Scotia. He even planned an expedition against Boston, in which, with his Indian warriors, he was to operate on land, while a naval force attacked the place from the harbor; but this project was never undertaken. Under his rule, the Indians imbibed his national hatred of the English, in addition to their native hostility to the whites, while the bigotry of the Catholic missionaries taught the savages intol- erance. Although Castine was a wild and reckless adventurer, and while in the army had been guilty of debauchery which had sometimes brought him to grief, his joining the Abenaquis was no temporary notion. He lived faithfully attached to his one wife,* though Indian customs encour- aged him to accept the hands of other " princesses," and was contented to hold his savage court in the wilderness, though a large inheritance invited him back to France. Nor did he forget the civilized love of accumulation; but he* established a trading-house at his first settlement, and by his influence and shrewd offers of reward he obtained great quan- tities of furs from his native subjects, which he exchanged for " good dry gold," and such gifts for his tawny subjects as would bring him additional stores of peltry. In this way he amassed a large fortune, which, however, was of little use in his chosen style of living, except to prepare hostile expeditions, and ultimately to provide liberal dowries for his several half-Indian daughters, who received a civilized educa- tion, and married Frenchmen of prominence in the colony. A son was * Another account states that he had four or five native wives, " with whom he lived by turns." 494 CONFLICTS OF RIVAL FRENCH CLAIMANTS. reared both as a Frenchman and an Indian; for while he received such instruction adapted to his rank as a French nobleman, as circumstances would admit, he was trained in savage arts also, and was made a chief of the tribe. After his father's death, the younger Castine was captured by an English expedition in " Lovewell's war," and carried to Boston, where he was charged with attempting, as a French officer, to instigate the savages to war. With the self-control of the Indian and the dig- nity of a French nobleman he denied the charge. " By my mother," said he, " I am a Tarratine sachem, and all my life has been passed with that nation. As their chief, it was my duty to be present at their councils, and I was there not by any orders from the governor of Can- ada. The dress I wear is not the uniform of a French officer, but one I choose as suited to my rank." After being detained several months as a prisoner, the young Castine was released; and soon after he abandoned his wasting tribe and went to France, to enter upon the inheritance which his father had so strangely neglected. Castine was an exaggerated type of many of the French settlers in Acadia. Numbers of them sought the society, and engaged in the pur- suits and pastimes of the savages. They were content with life in a wigwam and with Indian wives, and preferred the chase, with long intervals of idleness, to any regular industry. Under the control of the priests, who did not condemn such a course of life, they aided the latter in extending their influence over the Indians. The readiness with which the French adapted themselves to Indian habits secured the friend- ship of the natives, and Gallic and religious hostility to the English encouraged a like disposition in the savages. END OF VOL. I. NOTE. For the matter of chapters VII. to XI. inclusive, as well as of chapters IV. and V., the author is especially indebted to the admirable works of Mr. Francis Parkman, " The Pioneers of France in the New World," and " The Jesuits in North America in the seventeenth Century," which give the English reader by far the best, and indeed the only complete and connected his- tory of the early French efforts at colonization in America and conversion of the natives. To those works, the results of extensive research, and which combine the charms of romance with strict fidelity to historical fact, the reader is referred for a more full and interesting description of the events and characters outlined in the above-named chapters. 495 INDEX TO VOLUME I. ACADIA, French settlement in, 61-78. AGAMENTICUS, settlement of, 473; made a "city," 479; a civic procession in, 480. ALARM, false, Dudley's account of a, 278. ALDF.N, John, Standi.sh's proxy in courtship, 280 ANCIKNT and Honorable Artillery, 292. ANDROS, Sir Edmund, royal governor of New Eng- land, 434; at Saybrook, 435; in Massachusetts, 431; tyrannical course of, 436. 437; in Connecti- cut, 438; resistance to, in Boston, 440; taken prisoner, 441 ; government of, subverted, 442. ARGALL, Thomas, expeditions of, against the French settlements, 73, 74, 156; deputy-governor of Virginia, 170; tyrannical conduct of, 170, 171. BACON, Nathaniel, Jr., character of, 196, 197; re- fused a commission to fight Indians, 198 ; elected member of the assembly, and imprisoned, 199; marches with volunteers into Jamestown, and demands a commission, 200; denounced as a rebel, 200; organizes a revolutionary govern- ment, 201; defeats the Indians, 202; besieges Jamestown, 203; defeats Berkeley, 204; death of, and failure of his plans, 205. BELLINGHAM, Richard, governor, scandalous con- duct of, 283. BERKELEY, Sir William, governor of Virginia, 189, 192; and Bacon, 198-204; marches against Ba- con, 200; flight of, 200; attempt to capture, 202; returns with a military force to Jamestown, 203; attacks Bacon, and is defeated, 204; recovers power,2O5; vindictive spirit of, 206; death of, 207. BKRMUDAS, Somers wrecked on, 148. BIARD. Father, in Acadia, 70-75. BIENCOURT at Port Royal, 71 ; conflict with the Jesuits, 71-75. BLACKSTONE, William, at Shawmut, 249. BLOCK ISLAND, attack on Indians of, 313. BLOODY BROOK, battle of, 392. BOSTON settled, 255; stocks and pillory set up in, 266; Sunday services in, in the early days, 290; Ancient and Honorable Artillery in, 292; Qua- kers arrive in. 353; laws against Quakers pro- claimed in, 355; execution of Quakers in, 361; Andros in. 435, 436; resistance to Andros in, 440; witchcraft in, 445, 448. BOTELER, Lady Anne, 328. BRADFORD, William, 209; governor of Plymouth, 214; sends defiance to Canonicus, 221; charac- ter of, 245, 246; romance in the life of, 281. BRADLEY, Isaac, captivity and escape of, 423-427. BR^BEUF, the Jesuit, labors of, among Indians, 97- 101. BREWSTER, William, Elder, 243; character of, 247. BROOKE, Lord, 261, 307. BROOKFIELD, fight with Indians at. 387. BROWNE, John and Samuel, opposed to the Puritan system, 252 ; sent back to England, 253. CANADA, French expeditions to. 56, 79. CANONICUS, hostile message of, 221. CAPTIVE boys, story of, 423-427. CAROLINA, Fort, 34, 48. CARPENTER, Alice, 281. CARTIER in Canada, 56. CARVER, John, governor of Plymouth colony, 209, 213; death of, 214; character of, 245. CASTINE, or St. Castine, Baron, 492-494. CEREMONY on public occasions among the Pil- grims, 216, 284. CHAMPLAIN in Acadia, 61-67; ' n Canada, 79-91; winters at Quebec, 81 ; fights the Indians' bat- tles, 85, 87, 90. CHASTES, Aymar de, 61. CHILDREN, the afflicted, at Salem, 450-453. CHRISTISON, Wenlock, a Quaker, 364. CHURCH, Captain, the Indian fighter, 386, 412. CHURCH, New England, in the olden time, 289. CODDINGTON, William, 275, 298, 300. COLIGNY, Admiral, 31. CONANT, Roger, 240, 248. CONCORD, journey of colonists to, 259. CONGREGATIONAL CHURCHES, origin of, 287. CONNECTICUT, emigration from Massachusetts to, 305, 306; sufferings of first settlers in, 306; In- dian murders in, 310; trouble with the Dutch in, 337, 343; Andros in, 438; charter of, con- cealed, 439. CONNECTICUT RIVER, Dutch trading-post on, 303; Pilgrim establishment on, 304. COREY, Giles, pressed to death for witchcraft, 454. COTTON, Rev. John, 273; mild reply of, to an in- sult, 279. CRADOCK, Matthew, 254. DALE, Sir Thomas, high marshal of Virginia, 154; arrives at Jamestown, 154; efficient management of, 154; returns to England, 157. DARE. Virginia, baptism of, in. DARTMOUTH, Indian attack on, 386. 497 INDEX TO VOLUME I. D'AULNAY drives Plymonth traders from the Pe- nobscot, 477; conflict of, with La Tour, 482-491.- DAVENPORT, Rev. John, 325 ; regicides protected by, 369-372- DELAWARK, Lord, appointed governor of Virginia, 141; arrives at Jamestown, 151; wise adminis- tration of, 152 ; river named after. 153. DIXWELL, John, the regicide, 375, 376. DRAKK, Sir Francis, attacks St. Augustine, 54; helps the colony at Roanoke, 107. DRESS among the Puritans, 461. DUDLEY, Joseph, 434. DUDLEY, Thomas, deputy-governor of Massachu- setts colony, 255, 277; describes a false alarm, 278; quarrel of, with Winthrop, 279. DUST AN, Mr., defends his family, 416. DUSTAN, Mrs., captivity and escape of, 417-419. DUTCH and English contentions in Connecticut, 337-345- DYER, Mary, a Quaker, 360; sentenced to death, and reprieved, 361 ; again sentenced, and exe- cuted, 362. EATON, Theophilus, 325 ; governor of New Haven, 327- EDUCATION encouraged by the Puritans, 293. ELIOT, John, apostle to the Indians, 347-349. ENDICOT. John, leads the first colony to Massachu- setts, 251; stern Puritanism of, 253; cuts down Morton's May-pole. 263; expedition against the Indians of Block Island and Connecticut, 313,314; and the Quakers, 352, 355, 356, 363; and the regicides, 367. FARM-HOUSES of the olden time, 457, 458. FENWICK. George. 327. FLORIDA, Ponce de Leon's expedition to, 7; Nar- vaez's expedition to, 9; De Soto's expedition to, 10; Huguenots in, 31-48; scenery of, 35; first permanent settlement in, 49-55. FRENCH claimants in Maine, conflicts of, 482-494. GALLUP, John, bold exploit of, 312. GARDINER, Christopher, a base adventurer, 264. GATES, SirThomas. 141, 152, 154; arrives at James- town, 150; abandons Jamestown, 151; and re- turns, 151 ; prevents a recall of the colony, 154; returns to Virginia, 155. GEORGIANA, " city " of, 479. GOFFE, William, the regicide, 366-375, 390. GOODWIN, John, children of. 448-450. GORGES, Sir Ferdinand, 242, 466, 470, 478, 479, 481. GORGES, Robert, 243, 249. GORTON, Samuel, obnoxious to the Puritans, 275; punishment of, 276. GOSNOLD, Bartholomew, expedition of, to New England, 113. 114, 464; names Cape Cod, 114; unsuccessful attempt to plant a colony, 114; in Virginia, 116. 120. GOURGUES, Dominique de, avenges the massacre of the Huguenots, 47, 48. GRENVILLE, Sir Richard, 105, 108. HADLEY. Indian attack on, 390, 411. HAMOR. Thomas, escape of, from Indians, 179. HARTFORD, Connecticut, settled, 307; expedition from, against Indians, 318; troubles with the Dutch at, 337. HAKVARD COLLEGE founded, 293. HAVERHILL, Indian attacks on, 415, 420. HAWKINS, Sir John, succors the Huguenots, 41. HAYNES, John, at Hartford, 307; character of, 308. HIBBENS, Ann, tried and executed for witchcraft, 445. 44; HOOKER. Rev. Mr., lead* a colony to Connecticut, 306. HUGUENOT colony in Florida, 31-48; massacre of, by Spaniards, 44. HUSKING-FROLICS, 458. HUTCHINSON, Anne, 261 ; proclaims freedom for religious opinion, 273; banished from Massachu- setts, 274; goes to Rhode Island, 274, 298. INDIANS, baptism of, in Acadia, 69; Jesuits among, 97-102; massacre by. in Virginia, 177; war with, in Virginia, 182 ; murders by, in Connecticut, 310; war with, in Connecticut, 318-324; captive, sold as slaves by Massachusetts, 324; war with, in Massachusetts (fee King Philip s War). ISLE OF DEMONS, 57. JAMESTOWN and Captain John Smith, 115-145; set- tlement of, 116; Indian attack on, 119; character of settlers, 116, 127, 128, 142; fatal sickness at, 120, 140; discontent and mutiny at, 122, 127, 140, 155; want of food at, 122, 140, 147; miserable condition of inhabitants, 150; departure of sur- vivors from, 151; return to. 151; church in, 152; official display at, 153: idle habits of settlers of, 154; burned by Bacon. 204. JESUITS in Acadia, 69-75; in Canada, 92-102; ef- forts of, to convert Indians. 97-102 ; before hostile Indian councils, 99, too; dangers and persecu- tion incurred by. ico, IOI. JOHNSON, Isaac, 256. JOHNSON, Lady Arabella, death of, 256. JONES, Margaret, executed for witchcraft, 444. KING PHILIP'S war, 384-413. KIRK, Admiral, 94. LANCASTER, Indian attack on, 400. LANE, Ralph, governor of the Roanoke colony, 105. LA TOUR destroys the Plymouth trading-post at Machias, 476; conflict of, with D'Aulnay. 482-491. LA TOUR, Madame, in Boston, 486; defends St. John, 488; taken prisoner by D'Aulnay, 489. LAUDONNIKRE, Rene de, commander of Huguenot colony in Florida, 33. LEDDRA, William, a Quaker, executed, 362. LE FLECHE, Father, baptizes Indians, 69. LE MOYNE, a French artist in Florida, 35. LESCARBOT at Port Royal, 65. LIBERTY, spirit of, in New England, 428-442. LYFORD, Rev. Mr., expelled from Plymouth, 241. MAINE, explorations and first settlement in, 464- 469; plantations and trading-posts in, 470-481; rival French claimants in, 482-494. MARGUERITE, 57. MASON, Captain John, in Pequot war, 318-321. MASSACHUSETTS, Endicot leads the first colony to, 251; privations of early settlers of, 251, 255; a Puritan commonwealth founded in, 253; mor- tality among the settlers of, 256; government established in, 257; increased emigration to, 258; religious dissensions in, 261 ; persecution of Qua- kers in, 352-363; interior settlements in, 377 ; quo ivarranto against charter of, 433; charter of, ad- judged forfeited, 434; revolution in, 440, 441. INDEX TO VOLUME I. 499 MASSACHUSETTS BAY, pioneer settlers about, 248. MASSACRES and captivities, 414-427. MASSASOIT, treaty with, 215; visit of, to Plymouth, 216; friendship of, for the Plymouth settlers, 217. MASSE, Father, in Acadia, 70-75. MATTHEWS, Captain, a Virginia gentleman, 187. MAVERICK. Samuel, at Noddle ; s Island, 250. MAYFLOWER, voyage of the, 208. MAYHEW, Thomas, labors of, among Indians, 350. MAY-POLE at Merry Mount, 237. MEDFIELD, Indian attack on, 408. MENENDEZ, Pedro, threatens the Huguenots, 42 ; appointed governor of Florida, 49; plants a col- ony at St. Augustine, 51; treachery of, 45, 46; career of, in Florida, 55. MERRY MOUNT, settlement at, 236; carousals at, 236, 237 ; reckless conduct of settlers, 237 ; Stand- ish suppresses a nuisance at, 238. MIANTONOMOH, 331-335; condemned to death by advice of the ministers, 335; death of, 335. MILITARY organization of the Puritans, 291. MISSISSIPPI RIVER, discovery of, by De Soto, 23. MONHEGAN, 472. MONTS, Sieur de, colonizes Acadia, 61-67; ' n Can- ada, 79. MORTON, Thomas, 223; master of Merry Mount, 236 ; his account of Standish's exploit at Wey- mouth, 238, 239; sent to England, 239; return to Merry Mount, 263; punished and again ban- ished, 264. MOSAIC LAW in New Haven colony, 327. MOUNT DESERT, French attempt to settle at, 73; prevented by Argall, 73. MULLINS, Priscilla, 280. NARRAGANSETTS, suspicions of, in Massachusetts and Connecticut, 331-333 ; defeated by the Mohe- gans, 334; defeat of, 397. NARVAEZ, Pamphilo de, 9. NAUMKEAG selected for settlement, 249. NEW HAVEN, settlement of, 325 ; Mosaic law in, 327; and the Dutch, 343. NEWPORT, Captain, commander of ships carrying the colonists to Jamestown, 118, 119, 126, 127, 129, 132. 152. NINIGRET, the Niantic chief, 342. NORTH CAROLINA, English pioneers in, 103; first settlement in, abandoned, 108. NORTHFIELD, fight with Indians near, 391. NORTON, Rev. John, 353, 355, 356. OLDHAM, John, ignominiously expelled from Plym- outh. 241 ; at Cape Ann, 248. OPECHANCANOUGH, chief of Pamunkey, 123, 137, 177. 183. PARRIS, Rev. Mr., 450, 451. PARSONS, Hugh and Mary, accused of witchcraft, 444' 445- PEOJ;OT WAR, 315-324. PHILIP of Pokanoket, 379; fears of, in Plymouth, 379-381 ; hostile attitude of. towards the whites, 380-383: commences war. 384; secures alliance of Narragansetts, 396; continues the war, 398; retires to Mount Hope, 412; death of, 413. PIERCE, John, 242. PILGRIMS, the, at Plymouth, 208-219; arrive at Cape Cod, 209; land at Plymouth, 211; spirit! and character of, 211,212; compact of, 212 ; sick- ness among, 213; privations of, 218, 219; send aid to Wessagusset, 224; leaders of, 245-247; punishment of offences among, 267; trading- posts of, in Maine, 474-477. PLYMOUTH, landing of the Pilgrims at, 211; the first house built at, 213; famine at, 218, 219; plot of hostile Indians against, 213; charter and government of, 242-244. POCAHONTAS saves Smith's life. 125, 159; enter- tains Smith, 130; warns Smith of danger, 135; story of, 158-168; friendship for Smith, 161, 162; taken prisoner by Argall, 162; baptized, 164; John Rolfe a suitor for her hand, 164; marriage of, 164, 165; visits England, 165; interview with Smith, 167; death of, 168. PONCE DE LEON and Florida, I ; search for the Fountain of Youth, 7 ; death of, 8. PoNTGRAvf: in Acadia, 61, 63. POPHAM Colony in Maine, 464-469. PORT ROYAL (Acadia), settlement at, 63; winter pastimes at, 65, 66. PORT ROYAL (South Carolina), French colonists at, 31. POUTRINCOURT, Baron de, settlement of, at Port Royal (Acadia), 62-77. POWELL, Caleb, accused of witchcraft, 447. POWHATAN, 119, 124, 163 ; coronation of, 131 ; treachery of, 135. PRINCE, Mary, and the Puritan ministers, 355. PRING, Martin, 464. PROVIDENCE, founded by Roger Williams. 296; re- ligious liberty in, 297; fanatics and radicals in, 300; quarrels and disturbances in. 301. PUNISHMENT of offences in Massachusetts, 266; among the Pilgrims, 267. PURITANS, the, in Massachusetts, 252 ; opponents to the system of, sent to England, 253; abuse of, by malcontents in England. 264, 265 ; laws of, 266, 268; intolerance of, 269; religion of, 287; military organization among, 291 ; jealousy of, tow:irds Rhode Island, 299; persecution of Qua- kers by, 352-365; believers in witchcraft, 443; some more genial traits of, 456-463. QUAKERS, persecution 0^352-365; fanaticism of, 362, 363; whipping and other punishments of, 364; a reaction in favor of, 364. QUEBEC, settlement at, 79, 80: Jesuits at. 92: sur- rendered to the English, 94; restored to the French, 95. RALEIGH, Sir Walter, first English colony in Amer- ica planted by, 103; second colony of, 109; ef- forts of. to succor his colony, 112. RANDOLPH, Edward, 432, 434. RASIERES, Isaac de, messenger from New Amster- dam to Plymouth, 284. RATCLIFF, Philip, punishment of, 265. REGICIDES, the, 366-376. RELIGION among the Puritans, 287. RHODE ISLAND, first settlement on, 298; agitators and fanatics in, 300; belligerent proclivities of people of, 301. RIBAUT, 31, 41, 46. ROANOKE ISLAND, unsuccessful settlement on, 103; the lost colony of, 109-113. ROBERVAL, expedition of, to the St. Lawrence, 56. ROBINSON, Rev. John, 229, 245 ; prevented from coming to Plymouth, 243. ROLFE, John, 150, 157 ; sent to make peace with 500 INDEX TO VOLUME I. Powhatan, 163 ; marriage of, to Pocahontas, 164, 165. ROWLANDSON, Mary, captivity of, 401-407. ROYAL tyranny in New England, 428-439. SABBATH, the, strict observance of, by the Puri- tans, 288. SACHEMS' HEAD, 323. SACHEMS' PLAIN, 336. SACO, settlement at, 471. SAINT AUGUSTINE, Spanish settlement of, 49-55; life in, 52 ; Sir Francis Drake at, 54. SAINT CROIX RIVER, French settlement on the, 62. SAINT JOHNS RIVER, Huguenots settle on the. 33. SAINT LAWRENCE RIVER, French expeditions to, 56-60. SAINT MARKS, fortress of, 52. SALEM, settlement at, 251 ; Roger Williams at, 270; witchcraft in, 448, 450-454. SAMOSET welcomes the Pilgrims, 215. SAN MATTED, 48. SAY AND SEAL, Lord, 261, 307. SAYBROOK, Fort. 307, 327. SMITH, John, Captain, in Virginia, 116; the lend- ing spirit of the colony, 116; previous adven- tures of, 117; management of the colony devolved upon, 121; suppresses a mutiny, 121 ; captured by Indians, 123; condemned to death, and saved by Pocahontas, 125, 159, 160; condemned by the col- onists, 126; plots against, 116, 126, 132, 144; deal- ings with the Indians, 134-139; bravery of, 137, 139; captures the chief of Paspahegh, 139; acci- dent to, 144; returns to England, 144; services of, in Virginia, 144, 145; his career, 145; appeal to the queen inbehalf of Pocahontas, 165; names New England, 471. SOMERS, Sir George, 141, 152, 153; wrecked on the Bermudas, 148; escapes, 149, 150; death of, 153. SOTO, Ferdinand de, expedition of, 10-30; discov- ers the Mississippi, 23; death of, 28. SPINNING-BEES, 459. SPRINGFIELD, William Pynchon at, 307; Indian attack on. 393, 394. SqyANTO, Indian interpreter, 215. STANDISH, Miles, Captain, 209, 235; first expedi- tion of, against Indians, 217; goes to defence of Weymouth, 225; encounter with Pecksuot, 226; defeats the Indians at Weymouth, 227; return of, to Plymouth, 229; suppresses a nuisance at Merry Mount, 238; at Cape Ann, 240; character and services of, 247; courtship of, 280. STOCKS set up in Boston, 266. STUYVESANT at Hartford, 339. SUNDAY, strict observance of, by the Puritans, 288; services in Boston in the early days, 290; even- ing, 291. SWAN, Mrs., bold exploit of, 422. SWANSEY, King Philip's attack on, 384. THANKSGIVING, New England, origin of, 459; in the farm-house, 460 THORPE, Mr., a friend of the Indians in Virginia, 178. TlTUBA, 450-452. TURNER'S FALLS, battle of, 410. UNCAS, 331; hostility of, to Miantonomoh, 332; treacherous conduct of. 333"; a faithful friend to the Connecticut colonists, 336. UNDERHILL, John, Captain, 316; in Pequot war, 318, 321,322. UNITED Colonies of New England, 329. VANE, Sir Henry, character of, 260; chosen gov- ernor of Massachusetts, 261 ; favors the views of Anne Hutchinson, 273. VINES, Richard, settles at Saco, 471. VIRGINIA, named by Queen Elizabeth, 104; first permanent settlement in, 115; new settlements in, 147, 156; proposed recall of colonists in, 154; first assembly in, 172; introduction of slaves into, 173; marriageable women sent to, 173; disposal of wives to settlers in, 174; massacre of settlers in, by Indians, 177-182; character of colonists of, 184-188; prosperous condition of, 186; products of, 186; under the Commonwealth. 189-192; loy- alty of, to the Stuarts, 189; submits to the Par- liamentary force, 191 ; rejoicing in, at restoration of monarchy, 192. WADSWORTH, Captain, battle with Indians, 409. WAINWRIGHT, Mrs., cool artifice of, 421. WESSAGUSSET, adventurers settle at, 221; reckless character of settlers, 222; trouble with Indians at, 223; vicarious punishment at, 223; plots of hostile Indians against, 223; Miles Standish at, 226; fight with Indians, 227. WESTON, Thomas, at Wessagusset, 221. WEYMOUTH, George, on the Penobscot, 465. WEYMOUTH (fee Wessagusset). WHALLEY, Edward, the regicide, 366-373. WHEELWRIGHT, Rev. John, 273; banished from Massachusetts, 274; settles at Exeter, 274. WHIPPING-POST, stocks, and pillory in Boston, 266. WHITE, John, governor of second colony in Ro- anoke, 109, 112. WHITTAKER, Joseph, captivity and escape of, 423- 4-7- WILLARD, Major Simon, settles at Concord, 259; commands expedition against Indians, 343 ; re- lieves Brookfield, 388. WILLIAMS, Roger, opinions of, 269-271; opposi- tion of Puritan clergy to, 270; "dangerous doc- trines" of, 271 ; the champion of religious liberty, 272; sentence of exile against, 272; at Provi- dence, 296; goes to England for a charter, 299; character of, 300; foils the Pequot emissaries to the Narragansetts, 317. WINGFIELD, president of the council at Jamestown, 116: attempts to desert Jamestown, 121. WINSLOW. Edward, 209; visit of, toMassasoit, 230- 234; character and services of, 246; visits the Connecticut River, 303; commands an expedi- tion against the Indians, 396. WINTHROP, John, governor of Massachusetts col- onv, 254; arrival of, in Massachusetts, 255; again chosen governor ,273 ; benevolence and humor of, 278; visits Plymouth, 285; and Chickatabot, 286. WINTHROP, John, the younger, establishes a fort at Saybrook, 307 ; character of, 309. WITCHCRAFT, 443-455. WOLLASTON, Mount. 236. WOMEN, marriageable, sent to Virginia, 173; dis- posal of, to settlers, 174. WOTTON. surgeon at Jamestown, 116, 120. WYATT, Sir Francis, governor of Virginia, 175. YEARDLEY, George, deputy-governor of Virginia, 169; governor, 171. TO BE COMPLETED IN TWENTY- FO"OTl PARTS. Price Fifty Cents each. FROM FLORIDA, 1510, TO CALIFORNIA, 1849. IT is with the greatest satisfaction and confidence that the Publishers offer to the public this interesting and indisputably most elegant work which has ever been issued, in parts, in this country. The purpose of the work is, with historic outlines of the explorations and settlements of Europeans in America, and of the later emigration westward, to delineate events and incidents which illustrate the character- istics of the Pioneers, including, under that name, the cruel Spanish bigot and fierce French Huguenot in Florida, the thriftless adventurer and the proud cavalier of Virginia, the tolerant Catholic of Maryland, the exclusive Puritan of New England, the fearless Jesuit of Canada and the Mississippi valley, the peaceful Quaker of Penn- sylvania, the thrifty Dutch trader of New Netherlands, the daring backwoodsman, the sturdy descendant of the early colonists seeking a new home in the wilderness, the Mormon of Utah, the gold-hunter of California, and others who have braved danger and suffered privations on the frontiers of civilization. The history of these various pioneers is a record of terrible hardships endured and fearful perils encountered, of strange events and romantic episodes, of religious zeal and superstitious fanaticism, of persecution and martyrdom, of sturdy courage and daring exploits. Massacres by Spaniards, French, English, and savages, by turn chill the blood of the reader ; the early enslavement of natives is avenged by the sad captivity of whites ; war and famine are followed by peace and plenty ; and, with persistent energy and strong arms, civilization establishes itself on the Atlantic coast, subdues the forest, makes the wilderness bloom, and advances westward, over mountains and across plains, to the Pacific. The materials have been gathered over a wide field, and always from authentic sources ; and the work has been written by the author of a recent illustrated History of the late Civil War, which has been acknowledged to be among the best of the contemporary histories of that eventful period. In the artistic department of the work the Publishers can confidently challenge competition. The illus- trations are all from original drawings, made expressly and exclusively for this work, by F. O. C. DARLEY, W. L. SHEPPARD, G. PERKINS, and others, from subjects selected by the author, and the artists have added to their reputations as the leading designers of America. The initial letters of the chapters were also designed and engraved expressly for this work. The engraving has been under the special and personal supervision of Mr. GEORGE T. ANDREW, of the firm of JOHN ANDREW & SON, by whom, with W. J. LINTON, A. V. S. ANTHONY, and others, it has been executed in a style unequalled by any similar work ever attempted in this country. Printed at the well-known University Press, these illustrations, as well as the letter-press, are wholly American, and may well be offered in this Centennial year, as a beautiful specimen of American art and workmanship. CONDITIONS OF PUBLICATION. The work will be published in SEMI-MONTHLY PARTS, and printed on highly calendered toned paper, of superior quality, made expressly for this -work. Each Part will contain four Engravings and forty pages of Letter-press, and -will be completed in TWENTY- FOUR PARTS, at 50 cents each, payable on delivery, the carrier not being allowed to give credit or receive pay in advance. No subscription -will be taken for less than ONE ENTIRE COPY ; and as the Publishers pledge themselves to perform their part as above stated, they -will consider every subscriber pledged to receive the work agreeably to the present conditions. Cy SUBSCRIBERS REMOVING, OR NOT BEING REGULARLY SUPPLIED, WILL PLEASE NOTIFY THE PUBLISHERS, BY MAIL OR OTHERWISE. SAMUEL WALKER & CO., 18 Arch Street, Boston. TO BE COMPLETED XXT TWEITTY-FO'O'B. PARTS. Price Fifty Cents each. FROM FLORIDA, 1510, TO CALIFORNIA, 1849. IT is with the greatest satisfaction and confidence that the Publishers offer to the public this interesting and indisputably most elegant work which has ever been issued, in parts, in this country. The purpose of the work is, with historic outlines of the explorations and settlements of Europeans in America, and of the later emigration westward, to delineate events and incidents which illustrate the character- istics of the Pioneers, including, under that name, the cruel Spanish bigot and fierce French Huguenot in Florida, the thriftless adventurer and the proud cavalier of Virginia, the tolerant Catholic of Maryland, the exclusive Puritan of New England, the fearless Jesuit of Canada and the Mississippi valley, the peaceful Quaker of Penn- sylvania, the thrifty Dutch trader of New Netherlands, the daring backwoodsman, the sturdy descendant of the early colonists seeking a new home in the wilderness, the Mormon of Utah, the gold-hunter of California, and others who have braved danger and suffered privations on the frontiers of civilization. The history of these various pioneers is a record of terrible hardships endured and fearful perils encountered, of strange events and romantic episodes, of religious zeal and superstitious fanaticism, of persecution and martyrdom, of sturdy courage and daring exploits. Massacres by Spaniards, French, English, and savages, by turn chill the blood of the reader ; the early enslavement of natives is avenged by the sad captivity of whites ; war and famine are followed by peace and plenty ; and, with persistent energy and strong arms, civilization establishes itself on the Atlantic coast, subdues the forest, makes the wilderness bloom, and advances westward, over mountains and across plains, to the Pacific. The materials have been gathered over a wide field, and always from authentic sources ; and the work has been written by the author \>f a recent illustrated History of the late Civil War, which has been acknowledged to be among the best of the contemporary histories of that eventful period. In the artistic department of the work the Publishers can confidently challenge competition. The illus- trations are all from original drawings, made expressly and exclusively for this work, by F. O. C. BARLEY, W. L. SHEPPARD, G. PERKINS, and others, from subjects selected by the author, and the artists have added to their reputations as the leading designers of America. The initial letters of the chapters were also designed and engraved expressly for this work. The engraving has been under the special and personal supervision of Mr. GEORGE T. ANDREW, of the firm of JOHN ANDREW & SON, by whom, with W. J. LINTON, A. V. S. ANTHONY, and others, it has been executed in a style unequalled by any similar work ever attempted in this country. Printed at the well-known University Press, these illustrations, as well as the letter-press, are wholly American, and may well be offered in this Centennial year, as a -beautiful specimen of American art and workmanship. CONDITIONS OF PUBLICATION. The -work will be published in SEMI-MONTHLY PARTS, and printed on highly calendered toned paper, of superior quality, made expressly for this work. Each Part will contain four Engravings and forty pages of Letter-press, and will be completed in TWENTY- FOUR PARTS, at 50 cents each, payable on delivery, the carrier not being allowed to give credit or receive pay in advance. No subscription will be taken for less than ONE ENTIRE COPY ; and as the Publishers pledge themselves to perform their part as above stated, they will consider every subscriber pledged to receive the work agreeably to the present conditions. J3P SUBSCRIBERS REMOVING, OR NOT BEING REGULARLY SUPPLIED, WILL PLEASE NOTIFY THE PUBLISHERS, BY MAIL OR OTHERWISE. SAMUEL WALKER & CO., 18 Arch Street, Boston. TO BE COMPLETED XXT TWEXTTY-FOTJPv PARTS. Price Fifty Cents each. FROM FLORIDA, 1510, TO CALIFORNIA, 1849. IT is with the greatest satisfaction and confidence that the Publishers offer to the public this interesting and indisputably most elegant work which has ever been issued, in parts, in this country. The purpose of the work is, with historic outlines of the explorations and settlements of Europeans in America, and of the later emigration westward, to delineate events and incidents which illustrate the character- istics of the Pioneers, including, under that name, the cruel Spanish bigot and fierce French Huguenot in Florida, the thriftless adventurer and the proud cavalier of Virginia, the tolerant Catholic of Maryland, the exclusive Puritan of New England, the fearless Jesuit of Canada and the Mississippi valley, the peaceful Quaker of Penn- sylvania, the thrifty Dutch trader of New Netherlands, the daring backwoodsman, the sturdy descendant of the early colonists seeking a new home in the wilderness, the Mormon of Utah, the gold-hunter of California, and others who have braved danger and suffered privations on the frontiers of civilization. The history of these various pioneers is a record of terrible hardships endured and fearful perils encountered, of strange events and romantic episodes, of religious zeal and superstitious fanaticism, of persecution and martyrdom, of sturdy courage and daring exploits. Massacres by Spaniards, French, English, and savages, by turn chill the blood of the reader ; the early enslavement of natives is avenged by the sad captivity of whites ; war and famine are followed by peace and plenty ; and, with persistent energy and strong arms, civilization establishes itself on the Atlantic coast, subdues the forest, makes the wilderness bloom, and advances westward, over mountains and across plains, to the Pacific. The materials have been gathered over a wide field, and always from authentic sources ; and the work has been written by the author of a recent illustrated History of the late Civil War, which has been acknowledged to be among the best of the contemporary histories of that eventful period. In the artistic department of the work the Publishers can confidently challenge competition. The illus- trations are all. from original drawings, made expressly and exclusively for this work, by F. O. C. DARLEY, W. L. SHEPPARD, G. PERKINS, and others, from subjects selected by the author, and the artists have added to their reputations as the leading designers of America. The initial letters of the chapters were also designed and engraved expressly for this work. The engraving has been under the special and personal supervision of Mr. GEORGE T. ANDREW, of the firm of JOHN ANDREW & SON, by whom, with W. J. LINTON, A. V. S. ANTHONY, and others, it has been executed in a style unequalled by any similar work ever attempted in this country. Printed at the well-known University Press, these illustrations, as well as the letter-press, are wholly American, and may well be offered in this Centennial year, as a beautiful specimen of American art and workmanship. CONDITIONS OF PUBLICATION. The -work -will be published in SEMI-MONTHLY PARTS, and printed OH highly calendered toned paper, of superior quality, made expressly for this ivork. Each Part -will contain four Engravings and forty pages of Letter-press, and will be completed in TWENTY- FOUR PARTS, at 50 cents each, payable on delivery, the carrier not being allowed to give credit or receive pay in advance. No subscription -will be taken for less than ONE ENTIRE COPY ; and as the Publishers pledge themselves to perform their part as above stated, they will consider every subscriber pledged to receive the work agreeably to the present conditions. jy SUBSCRIBERS REMOVING, OR NOT BEING REGULARLY SUPPLIED, WILL PLEASE NOTIFY THE PUBLISHERS, BY MAIL OR OTHERWISE. SAMUEL WALKER & CO., 18 Arch Street, Boston. TO BE COMPLETED IXT TWEXTTY-FO'O'R PARTS. Price Fifty Cents each. FROM FLORIDA, 1510, TO CALIFORNIA, 1849. IT is with the greatest satisfaction and confidence that the Publishers offer to the public this interesting and indisputably most elegant work which has ever been issued, in parts, in this country. The purpose of the work is, with historic outlines of the explorations and settlements of Europeans in America, and of the later emigration westward, to delineate events and incidents which illustrate the character- istics of the Pioneers, including, under that name, the cruel Spanish bigot and fierce French Huguenot in Florida, the thriftless adventurer and the proud cavalier of Virginia, the tolerant Catholic of Maryland, the exclusive Puritan of New England, the fearless Jesuit of Canada and the Mississippi valley, the peaceful Quaker of Penn- sylvania, the thrifty Dutch trader of New Netherlands, the daring backwoodsman, the sturdy descendant of the early colonists seeking a new home in the wilderness, the Mormon of Utah, the gold-hunter of California, and others who have braved danger and suffered privations on the frontiers of civilization. The history of these various pioneers is a record of terrible hardships endured and fearful perils encountered, of strange events and romantic episodes, of religious zeal and superstitious fanaticism, of persecution and martyrdom, of sturdy courage and daring exploits. Massacres by Spaniards, French, English, and savages, by turn chill the blood of the reader ; the early enslavement of natives is avenged by the sad captivity of whites ; war and famine are followed by peace and plenty ; and, with persistent energy and strong arms, civilization establishes itself on the Atlantic coast, subdues the forest, makes the wilderness bloom, and advances westward, over mountains and across plains, to the Pacific. The materials have been gathered over a wide field, and always from authentic sources ; and the work has been written by the author of a recent illustrated History of the late Civil War, which has been acknowledged to be among the best of the contemporary histories of that eventful period. In the artistic department of the work the Publishers can confidently challenge competition. The illus- trations are all from original drawings, made expressly and exclusively for this work, by F. O. C. DARLEY, W. L. SHEPPARD, G. PERKINS, and others, from subjects selected by the author, and the artists have added to their reputations as the leading designers of America. The initial letters of the chapters were also designed and engraved expressly for this work. The engraving has been under the special and personal supervision of Mr. GEORGE T. ANDREW, of the firm of JOHN ANDREW & SON, by whom, with W. J. LINTON, A. V. S. ANTHONY, and others, it has been executed in a style unequalled by any similar work ever attempted in this country. Printed at the well-known University Press, these illustrations, as well as the letter-press, are wholly American, and may well be offered in this Centennial year, as a beautiful specimen of American art and workmanship. CONDITIONS OF PUBLICATION. The work -will be published in SEMI-MONTHLY PARTS, and printed on highly calendered toned paper, of superior quality, made expressly for this work. Each Part will contain four Engravings and forty pages of Letter-press, and will be completed in TWENTY- FOUK PARTS, at 50 cents each, payable on delivery, the carrier not being- allowed to give credit or receive pay in advance. No subscription will be taken for less than ONE ENTIRE COPY ; and as the Publishers pledge themselves to perform their part as above stated, they will consider every subscriber pledged to receive the work agreeably to the present conditions. 1ST SUBSCRIBERS REMOVING, OR NOT BEING REGULARLY SUPPLIED, WILL PLEASE NOTIFY THE PUBLISHERS, BY MAIL OR OTHERWISE. SAMUEL WALKER & CO., 18 Arch Street, Boston. TO BE COMPLETED I1T TWEITTY- FO'U'R PARTS. Price Fifty Cents each. FROM FLORIDA, 1510, TO CALIFORNIA, 1849. IT is with the greatest satisfaction and confidence that the Publishers offer to the public this interesting and indisputably most elegant work which has ever been issued, in parts, in this country. The purpose of the work is, with historic outlines of the explorations and settlements of Europeans in America, and of the later emigration westward, to delineate events and incidents which illustrate the character- istics of the Pioneers, including, under that name, the cruel Spanish bigot and fierce French Huguenot in Florida, the thriftless adventurer and the proud cavalier of Virginia, the tolerant Catholic of Maryland, the exclusive Puritan of New England, the fearless Jesuit of Canada and the Mississippi valley, the peaceful Quaker of Penn- sylvania, the thrifty Dutch trader of New Netherlands, the daring backwoodsman, the sturdy descendant of the early colonists seeking a new home in the wilderness, the Mormon of Utah, the gold-hunter of California, and others who have braved danger and suffered privations on the frontiers of civilization. The history of these various pioneers is a record of terrible hardships endured and fearful perils encountered, of strange events and romantic episodes, of religious zeal and superstitious fanaticism, of persecution and martyrdom, of sturdy courage and daring exploits. Massacres by Spaniards, French, English, and savages, by turn chill the blood of the reader ; the early enslavement of natives is avenged by the sad captivity of whites ; war and famine are followed by peace and plenty ; and, with persistent energy and strong arms, civilization establishes itself on the Atlantic coast, subdues the forest, makes the wilderness bloom, and advances westward, over mountains and across plains, to the Pacific. The materials have been gathered over a wide field, and always from authentic sources ; and the work has been written by the author of a recent illustrated History of the late Civil War, which has been acknowledged to be among the best of the contemporary histories of that eventful period. In the artistic department of the work the Publishers can confidently challenge competition. The illus- trations are all from original drawings, made expressly and exclusively for this work, by F. O. C. DARLEY, W. L. SHEPPARD, G. PERKINS, and others, from subjects selected by the author, and the artists have added to their reputations as the leading designers of America. The initial letters of the chapters were also designed and engraved expressly for this work. The engraving has been under the special and personal supervision of Mr. GEORGE T. ANDREW, of the firm of JOHN ANDREW & SON, by whom, with W. J. LINTON, A. V. S. ANTHONY, and others, it has been executed in a style unequalled by any similar work ever attempted in this country. Printed at the well-known University Press, these illustrations, as well as the letter-press, are wholly American, and may well be offered in this Centennial year, as a beautiful specimen of American art and workmanship. !$$: t- CONDITIONS OF PUBLICATION. The -work will be published in SEMI-MONTHLY PARTS, and printed on highly calendered toned paper, of superior quality, made expressly for this -work. Each Part will contain four Engravings and forty pages of Letter-press, and will be completed in TWENTY- FOUR PARTS, at 50 cents each, payable on delivery, the carrier not being allowed to give credit or receive pay in advance. No subscription will be taken for less than ONE ENTIRE COPY ; and as the Publishers pledge themselves to perform their part as above stated, they will consider every subscriber pledged to receive the work agreeably to the present conditions. 5^ SUBSCRIBERS REMOVING, OR NOT BEING REGULARLY SUPPLIED, WILL PLEASE NOTIFY THE PUBLISHERS, BY MAIL OR OTHERWISE. SAMUEL WALKER & CO., 18 Arch Street, Boston. TO BE COMPLETED IN TWENTY- FO'U'B. PARTS. Price Fifty Cents each. FROM FLORIDA, 1510, TO CALIFORNIA, 1849. I T is with the greatest satisfaction and confidence that the Publishers offer to the public this interesting and indisputably most elegant work which has ever been issued, in parts, in this country. The purpose of the work is, with historic outlines of the explorations and settlements of Europeans in America, and of the later emigration westward, to delineate events and incidents which illustrate the character- istics of the Pioneers, including, under that name, the cruel Spanish bigot and fierce French Huguenot in Florida, the thriftless adventurer and the proud cavalier of Virginia, the tolerant Catholic of Maryland, the exclusive Puritan of New England, the fearless Jesuit of Canada and the Mississippi valley, the peaceful Quaker of Penn- sylvania, the thrifty Dutch trader of New Netherlands, the daring backwoodsman, the sturdy descendant of the early colonists seeking a new home in the wilderness, the Mormon of Utah, the gold-hunter of California, and others who have braved danger and suffered privations on the frontiers of civilization. The history of these various pioneers is a record of terrible hardships endured and fearful perils encountered, of strange events and romantic episodes, of religious zeal and superstitious fanaticism, of persecution and martyrdom, of sturdy courage and daring exploits. Massacres by Spaniards, French, English, and savages, by turn chill the blood of the reader ; the early enslavement of natives is avenged by the sad captivity of whites ; war and famine are followed by peace and plenty ; and, with persistent energy and strong arms, civilization establishes itself on the Atlantic coast, subdues the forest, makes the wilderness bloom, and advances westward, over mountains and across plains, to the Pacific. The materials have been gathered over a wide field, and always from authentic sources ; and the work has been written by the author of a recent illustrated History of the late Civil War, which has been acknowledged to be among the best of the contemporary histories of that eventful period. In the artistic department of the work the Publishers can confidently challenge competition. The illus- trations are all from original drawings, made expressly and exclusively for this work, by F. O. C. DARLEY, W. L. SHEPPARD, G. PERKINS, and others, from subjects selected by the author, and the artists have added to their reputations as the leading designers of America. The initial letters of the chapters were also designed and engraved expressly for this work. The engraving has been under the special and personal supervision of Mr. GEORGE T. ANDREW, of the firm of JOHN ANDREW & SON, by whom, with W. J. LINTON, A. V. S. ANTHONY, and others, it has been executed in a style unequalled by any similar work ever attempted in this country. Printed at the well-known University Press, these illustrations, as well as the letter-press, are wholly American, and may well be offered in this Centennial year, as a beautiful specimen of American art and workmanship. CONDITIONS OF PUBLICATION. The -work will be published in SEMI-MONTHLY PARTS, and printed on highly calendered toned paper, of superior quality, made expressly for this -work. Each Part 'will contain four Engravings and forty pages of Letter-press, and will be completed in TWKNTY- FOUR PARTS, at 50 cents each, payable on delivery, the carrier not being allowed to give credit or receive pay in advance. No subscription will be taken for less than ONE ENTIRE COPY ; and as the Publishers pledge themselves to perform their part as above stated, they will consider every subscriber pledged to receive the work agreeably to the present conditions. iy SUBSCRIBERS REMOVING, OR NOT BEING REGULARLY SUPPLIED, WILL PLEASE NOTIFY THE PUBLISHERS, BY MAIL OR OTHERWISE. SAMUEL, WALKER & CO., 18 Arch Street, Boston. TO BE COMPLETED I1T TWENTY - FOT7R PARTS. Price Fifty Cents each. FROM FLORIDA, 1510, TO CALIFORNIA, 1849. IT is with the greatest satisfaction and confidence that the Publishers offer to the public this interesting and indisputably most elegant work which has ever been issued, in parts, in this country. The purpose of the work is, with historic outlines of the explorations and settlements of Europeans in America, and of the later emigration westward, to delineate events and incidents which illustrate the character- istics of the Pioneers, including, under that name, the cruel Spanish bigot and fierce French Huguenot in Florida, the thriftless adventurer and the proud cavalier of Virginia, the tolerant Catholic of Maryland, the exclusive Puritan of New England, the fearless Jesuit of Canada and the Mississippi valley, the peaceful Quaker of Penn- sylvania, the thrifty Dutch trader of New Netherlands, the daring backwoodsman, the sturdy descendant of the early colonists seeking a new home in the wilderness, the Mormon of Utah, the gold-hunter of California, and others who have braved danger and suffered privations on the frontiers of civilization. The history of these various pioneers is a record of terrible hardships endured and fearful perils encountered, of strange events and ( romantic episodes, of religious zeal and superstitious fanaticism, of persecution and martyrdom, of sturdy courage and daring exploits. Massacres by Spaniards, French, English, and savages, by turn chill the blood of the reader ; the early enslavement of natives is avenged by the sad captivity of whites ; war and famine are followed by peace and plenty ; and, with persistent energy and strong arms, civilization establishes itself on the Atlantic coast, subdues the forest, makes the wilderness bloom, and advances westward, over mountains and across plains, to the Pacific. The materials have been gathered over a wide field, and always from authentic sources ; and the work has been written by the author of a recent illustrated History of the late Civil War, which has been acknowledged to be among the best of the contemporary histories of that eventful period. In the artistic department of the work the Publishers can confidently challenge competition. The illus- trations are all from original drawings, made expressly and exclusively for this work, by F. O. C. BARLEY, W. L. SHEPPARD, G. PERKINS, and others, from subjects selected by the author, and the artists have added to their reputations as the leading designers of America. The initial letters of the chapters were also designed and engraved expressly for this work. The engraving has been under the special and personal supervision of Mr. GEORGE T. ANDREW, of the firm of JOHN ANDREW & SON, by whom, with W. J. LINTON, A. V. S. ANTHONY, and others, it has been executed in a style unequalled by any similar work ever attempted in this country. Printed at the well-known University Press, these illustrations, as well as the letter-press, are wholly American, and may well be offered in this Centennial year, as a beautiful specimen of American art and workmanship. CONDITIONS OF PUBLICATION. The -work -will be -published in SEMI-MONTHLY PARTS, and printed on highly calendered toned paper, of superior quality, made expressly for this work. Each Part will contain four Engravings and forty pages of Letter-press, and -will be completed in TWENTY- FOUR PARTS, at 50 cents each, payable on delivery, the carrier not being allowed to give credit or receive pay in advance. No subscription will be taken for less than ONE ENTIRE COPY ; and as the Publishers pledge themselves to perform their part as above stated, they will consider every subscriber pledged to receive the work agreeably to the present conditions. CS^ SUBSCRIBERS REMOVING, OR NOT BEING REGULARLY SUPPLIED, WILL PLEASE NOTIFY THE PUBLISHERS, BY MAIL OR OTHERWISE. SAMUEL WALKER & CO., 18 Arch Street, Boston. TO BE COMPLETED IXT TWENTY- FO'CTB. PARTS. Price Fifty Cents each. FROM FLORIDA, 1510, TO CALIFORNIA, 1849. IT is with the greatest satisfaction and confidence that the Publishers offer to the public this interesting and indisputably most elegant work which has ever been issued, in parts, in this country. The purpose of the work is, with historic outlines of the explorations and settlements of Europeans in America, and of the later emigration westward, to delineate events and incidents which illustrate the character- istics of the Pioneers, including, under that name, the cruel Spanish bigot and fierce French Huguenot in Florida, the thriftless adventurer and the proud cavalier of Virginia, the tolerant Catholic of Maryland, the exclusive Puritan of New England, the fearless Jesuit of Canada and the Mississippi valley, the peaceful Quaker of Penn- sylvania, the thrifty Dutch trader of New Netherlands, the daring backwoodsman, the sturdy descendant of the early colonists seeking a new home in the wilderness, the Mormon of Utah, the gold-hunter of California, and others who have braved danger and suffered privations on the frontiers of civilization. The history of these various pioneers is a record of terrible hardships endured and fearful perils encountered, of strange events and romantic episodes, of religious zeal and superstitious fanaticism, of persecution and martyrdom, of sturdy courage and daring exploits. Massacres by Spaniards, French, English, and savages, by turn chill the blood of the reader ; the early enslavement of natives is avenged by the sad captivity of whites ; war and famine are followed by peace and plenty ; and, with persistent energy and strong arms, civilization establishes itself on the Atlantic coast, subdues the forest, makes the wilderness bloom, and advances westward, over mountains and across plains, to the Pacific. The materials have been gathered over a wide field, and always from authentic sources ; and the work has been written by the author of a recent illustrated History of the late Civil War, which has been acknowledged to be among the best of the contemporary histories of that eventful period. In the artistic department of the work the Publishers can confidently challenge competition. The illus- trations are all from original drawings, made expressly and exclusively for this work, by F. O. C. DARLEY, W. L. SHEPPARD, G. PERKINS, and others, from subjects selected by the author, and the artists have added to their reputations as the leading designers of America. The initial letters of the chapters were also designed and engraved expressly for this work. The engraving has been under the special and personal supervision of Mr. GEORGE T. ANDREW, of the firm of JOHN ANDREW & SON, by whom, with W. J. LINTON, A. V. S. ANTHONY, and others, it has been executed in a style unequalled by any similar work ever attempted in this country. Printed at the well-known University Press, these illustrations, as well as the letter-press, are wholly American, and may well be offered in this Centennial year, as a beautiful specimen of American art and workmanship. CONDITIONS OF PUBLICATION. The -work will be published in SEMI-MONTHLY PARTS, and printed on highly calendered toned paper, of stiperior quality, made expressly for this ivork. Each Part will contain four Engravings and forty pages of Letter-press, and will be completed in TWENTY- FOUR PARTS, at 50 cents each, payable on delivery, the carrier not being allowed to give credit or receive pay in advance. No subscription will be taken for less than ONE ENTIRE COPY ; and as the Publishers pledge themselves to Perform their part as above stated, they will consider every subscriber pledged to receive the work agreeably to the present conditions. \3T SUBSCRIBERS REMOVING, OR NOT BEING REGULARLY SUPPLIED, WILL PLEASE NOTIFY THE PUBLISHERS, BY MAIL OR OTHERWISE. SAMUEL WALKER & CO., 18 Arch Street, Boston. TO BE COMPLETED I1T TWElTT'y.FOTJB. PARTS. Price Fifty Cents each. FROM FLORIDA, 1510, TO CALIFORNIA, 1849. IT is with the greatest satisfaction and confidence that the Publishers offer to the public this interesting and indisputably most elegant work which has ever been issued, in parts, in this country. The purpose of the work is, with historic outlines of the explorations and settlements of Europeans in America, and of the later emigration westward, to delineate events and incidents which illustrate the character- istics of the Pioneers, including, under that name, the cruel Spanish bigot and fierce French Huguenot in Florida, the thriftless adventurer and the proud cavalier of Virginia, the tolerant Catholic of Maryland, the exclusive Puritan of New England, the fearless Jesuit of Canada and the Mississippi valley, the peaceful Quaker of Penn- sylvania, the thrifty Dutch trader of New Netherlands, the daring backwoodsman, the sturdy descendant of the early colonists seeking a new home in the wilderness, the Mormon of Utah, the gold-hunter of California, and others who have braved danger and suffered privations on the frontiers of civilization. The history of these various pioneers is a record of terrible hardships endured and fearful perils encountered, of strange events and romantic episodes, of religious zeal and superstitious fanaticism, of persecution and martyrdom, of sturdy courage and daring exploits. Massacres by Spaniards, French, English, and savages, by turn chill the blood of the reader ; the early enslavement of natives is avenged by the sad captivity of whites ; war and famine are followed by peace and plenty ; and, with persistent energy and strong arms, civilization establishes itself on the Atlantic coast, subdues the forest, makes the wilderness bloom, and advances westward, over mountains and across plains, to the Pacific. The materials have been gathered over a wide field, and always from authentic sources ; and the work has been written by the author of a recent illustrated History of the late Civil War, which has been acknowledged to be among the best of the contemporary histories of that eventful period. In the artistic department of the work the Publishers can confidently challenge competition. The illus- trations are all from original drawings, made expressly and exclusively for this work, by F. O. C. DARLEY, W. L. SHEPPARD, G. PERKINS, and others, from subjects selected by the author, and the artists have added to their reputations as the leading designers of America. The initial letters of the chapters were also designed and engraved expressly for this work. The engraving has been under the special and personal supervision of Mr. GEORGE T. ANDREW, of the firm of JOHN ANDREW & SON, by whom, with W. J. LINTON, A. V. S. ANTHONY, and others, it has been executed in a style unequalled by any similar work ever attempted in this country. Printed at the well-known University Press, these illustrations, as well as the letter-press, are wholly American, and may well be offered in this Centennial year, as a beautiful specimen of American art and workmanship. - i3Ef - CONDITIONS OF PUBLICATION. The -work -will be published in SEMI-MONTHLY PARTS, and -printed on highly calendered toned paper, of superior quality, made expressly for this work. Each Part will contain four Engravings and forty pages of Letter-press, and will be completed in TWENTY- FOUR PARTS, at 50 cents each, payable on delivery, the carrier not being allowed to give credit or receive pay in advance. No subscription will be taken for less than ONE ENTIRE COPY ; and as the Publishers pledge themselves to perform their part as above stated, they will consider every subscriber pledged to receive the work agreeably to the present conditions. iy SUBSCRIBERS REMOVING, OR NOT BEING REGULARLY SUPPLIED, WILL PLEASE NOTIFY THE PUBLISHERS, BY MAIL OR OTHERWISE. SAMUEL WALKER & CO., 18 Arch Street, Boston. TO BE COMPLETED IXT TWENTY- FOUR PARTS. Price Fifty Cents each. PROM FLORIDA, 1510, TO CALIFORNIA, 1849. IT is with the greatest satisfaction and confidence that the Publishers offer to the public this interesting anc indisputably most elegant work which has ever been issued, in parts, in this country. The purpose of the work is, with historic outlines of the explorations and settlements of Europeans if America, and of the later emigration westward, to delineate events and incidents which illustrate the character istics of the Pioneers, including, under that name, the cruel Spanish bigot and fierce French Huguenot in Florida the thriftless adventurer and the proud cavalier of Virginia, the tolerant Catholic of Maryland, the exclusivi Puritan of New England, the fearless Jesuit of Canada and the Mississippi valley, the peaceful Quaker of Penn sylvania, the thrifty Dutch trader of New Netherlands, the daring backwoodsman, the sturdy descendant of th< early colonists seeking a new home in the wilderness, the Mormon of Utah, the gold-hunter of California, ant others who have braved danger and suffered privations on the frontiers of civilization. The history of thesf various pioneers is a record of terrible hardships endured and fearful perils encountered, of strange events anc romantic episodes, of religious zeal and superstitious fanaticism, of persecution and martyrdom, of sturdy courage and daring exploits. Massacres by Spaniards, French, English, and savages, by turn chill the blood of the reader the early enslavement of natives is avenged by the sad captivity of whites ; war and famine arc followed by peacf and plenty ; and, with persistent energy and strong arms, civilization establishes itself on the Atlantic coast, subdues the forest, makes the wilderness bloom, and advances westward, over mountains and across plains, to the Pacific. The materials have been gathered over a wide field, and always from authentic sources ; and the work has been written by the author of a recent illustrated History of the late Civil War, which has been acknowledged t( be among the best of the contemporary histories of that eventful period. In the artistic department of the work the Publishers can confidently challenge competition. The illus- trations are all from original drawings, made expressly and exclusively for this work, by F. O. C. DARLEY W. L. SHEPPARD, G. PERKINS, and others, from subjects selected by the author, and the artists have added to theii reputations as the leading designers of America. The initial letters of the chapters were also designed anc engraved expressly for this work. The engraving has been under the special and personal supervision of Mr, GEORGE T. ANDREW, of the firm of JOHN ANDREW & SON, by whom, with W. J. LINTON, A. V. S. ANTHONY, and others, it has been executed in a style unequalled by any similar work ever attempted in this country. Printed al the well-known University Press, these illustrations, as well as^the letter-press, are wholly American, and may well be offered in this Centennial year, as a beautiful specimen of American art and workmanship. CONDITIONS OF PUBLICATION. The ivork will be published in SEMI-MONTHLY PARTS, and printed on highly calendered toned paper, of superior quality, made expressly for this work. Each Part will contain four Engravings and forty pages of Letter-press, and will be completed in TWENTY- FOUR PARTS, at 50 cents each, payable on delivery, the carrier not being allowed to give credit or receive pay in advance. No subscription will be taken for less than ONE ENTIRE COPY ; and as the Publishers pledge themselves to perform their part as above stated, they will consider every subscriber pledged to receive the work agreeably to the present conditions. S3P SUBSCRIBERS REMOVING, OR NOT BEING REGULARLY SUPPLIED, WILL PLEASE NOTIFY THE PUBLISHERS, BY MAIL OR OTHERWISE. t SAMUEL WALKER & CO., 18 Arch Street, Boston. TO BE COMPLETED ZU TWEiTT^-FOTJR Price Fifty Cents each. FROM FLORIDA, 1510, TO CALIFORNIA, 1849. - IT is with the greatest satisfaction and confidence that the Publishers offer to the public this interesting and indisputably most elegant work which has ever been issued, in parts, in this country. The purpose of the work is, with historic outlines of the explorations and settlements of Europeans in America, and of the later emigration westward, to delineate events and incidents which illustrate the character- istics of the Pioneers, including, under that name, the cruel Spanish bigot and fierce French Huguenot in Florida, the thriftless adventurer and the proud cavalier of Virginia, the tolerant Catholic of Maryland, the exclusive Puritan of New England, the fearless Jesuit of Canada and the Mississippi valley, the peaceful Quaker of Penn- sylvania, the thrifty Dutch trader of New Netherlands, the daring backwoodsman, the sturdy descendant of the early colonists seeking a new home in the wilderness, the Mormon of Utah, the gold-hunter of California, and others who have braved danger and suffered privations on the frontiers of civilization. The history of these various pioneers is a record of terrible hardships endured and fearful perils encountered, of strange events and romantic episodes, of religious zeal and superstitious fanaticism, of persecution and martyrdom, of sturdy courage and daring exploits. Massacres by Spaniards, French, English, and savages, by turn chill the blood of the reader ; the early enslavement of natives is avenged by the sad captivity of whites ; war and famine are followed by peace and plenty ; and, with persistent energy and strong arms, civilization establishes itself on the Atlantic coast, subdues the forest, makes the wilderness bloom, and advances westward, over mountains and across plains, to the Pacific. The materials have been gathered over a wide field, and always from authentic sources ; and the work has been written by the author of a recent illustrated History of the late Civil War, which has been acknowledged to be among the best of the contemporary histories of that eventful period. In the artistic department of the work the Publishers can confidently challenge competition. The illus- trations are all from original drawings, made expressly and exclusively for this work, by F. D. C. DARLEY, W. L. SHEPPARD, G. PERKINS, and others, from subjects selected by the author, and the artists have added to their reputations as the leading designers of America. The initial letters of the chapters were also designed and engraved expressly for this work. The engraving has been under the. special and personal supervision of Mr. GEORGE T. ANDREW, of the firm of JOHN ANDREW & SON, by whom, with W. J. LINTON, A. V. S. ANTHONY, and others, it has been executed in a style unequalled by any similar work ever attempted in this country. Printed at the well-known University Press, these illustrations, as well as the letter-press, are wholly American, and may well be offered in this Centennial year, as a beautiful specimen of American art and workmanship. CONDITIONS Of PUBLICATION. The work will Ic published in SEMI-MONTHLY PARTS, and printed on highly calendered toned paper, of superior quality, made expressly for this work. Each Part will contain four Engravings and forty pages of Letter-press, and will be completed in TWENTY- FOUR PARTS, at 50 cents each, payable on delivery, the carrier not being allowed to give credit or receive pay in advance. No subscription will be taken for less than ONE ENTIRE COPY ; and as the Publishers pledge themselves to perform their part as above stated, they will consider every subscriber pledged to receive the work agreeably to the present conditions. SUBSCRIBERS REMOVING, OR NOT BEING REGULARLY SUPPLIED, WILL PLEASE NOTIFY THE PUBLISHERS, BY MAIL OR OTHERWISE. SAMUEL WALKER & CO., 18 Arch Street, Boston. TO BE COMPLETED I1T T WENT Y- FOT7B, PARTS. Price Fifty Cents each. FROM FLORIDA, 1510, TO CALIFORNIA, 1849. IT is with the greatest satisfaction and confidence that the Publishers offer to the public this interesting anc indisputably most elegant work which has ever been issued, in parts, in this country. The purpose of the work is, with historic outlines of the explorations and settlements of Europeans hi America, and of the later emigration westward, to delineate events and incidents which illustrate the character istics of the Pioneers, including, under that name, the cruel Spanish bigot and fierce French Huguenot in Florida the thriftless adventurer and the proud cavalier of Virginia, the tolerant Catholic of Maryland, the exclusive Puritan of New England, the fearless Jesuit of Canada and the Mississippi valley, the peaceful Quaker of Perm- sylvania, the thrifty Dutch trader of New Netherlands, the daring backwoodsman, the sturdy descendant of th< early colonists seeking a new home in the wilderness, the Mormon of Utah, the gold-hunter of California, anc others who have braved danger and suffered privations on the frontiers of civilization. The history of these various pioneers is a record of terrible hardships endured and fearful perils encountered, of strange events and romantic episodes, of religious zeal and superstitious fanaticism, of persecution and martyrdom, of sturdy courage and daring exploits. Massacres by Spaniards, French, English, and savages, by turn chill the blood of the reader; the early enslavement of natives is avenged by the sad captivity of whites ; war and famine are followed by peace and plenty ; and, with persistent energy and strong arms, civilization establishes itself on the Atlantic coast, subdues the forest, makes the wilderness bloom, and advances westward, over mountains and across plains, to the Pacific. The materials have been gathered over a wide field, and always from authentic sources ; and the work has been written by the author of a recent illustrated History of the late Civil War, which has been acknowledged tc be among the best of the contemporary histories of that eventful period. In the artistic department of the work the Publishers can confidently challenge competition. The illus- trations are all from original drawings, made expressly and exclusively for this work, by F. O. C. BARLEY, W. L. SHEPPARD, G. PERKINS, and others, from subjects selected by the author, and the artists have added to their reputations as the leading designers of America. The initial letters of the chapters were also designed and engraved expressly for this work. The engraving has been under the special and personal supervision of Mr. GEORGE T. ANDREW, of the firm of JOHN ANDREW & SON, by whom, with W. J. LINTON, A. V. S. ANTHONY, and others, it has been executed in a style unequalled by any similar work ever attempted in this country. Printed at the well-known University Press, these illustrations, as well as the letter-press, are wholly American, and may well be offered in this Centennial year, as a beautiful specimen of American art and workmanship. CONDITIONS OF PUBLICATION. The work -will be published in SEMI-MONTHLY PARTS, and printed on highly calendered toned paper, of superior quality, made expressly for this ivork. Each Part 'will contain four Engravings and forty pages of Letter-press, and will be completed in TWENTY- FOUR PARTS, at 50 cents each, payable on deli-very, the carrier not being allowed to give credit or receive pay in advance. No subscription -will be taken for less than ONE ENTIRE COPY ; and as the Publishers pledge themselves to perform their part as above stated, they -will consider every subscriber pledged to receive the work agreeably to the present conditions. r EP SUBSCRIBERS REMOVING, OR NOT BEING REGULARLY SUPPLIED, WILL PLEASE NOTIFY THE PUBLISHERS, BY MAIL OR OTHERWISE. SAMUEL WALKER & CO., 18 Arch Street, Boston. (U15flROH TO BE COMPLETED IN TWENTY- FOUR PARTS. Price Fifty Cents each. FROM FLORIDA, 1510, TO CALIFORNIA, 1849. IT is with the greatest satisfaction and confidence that the Publishers offer to the public this interesting and indisputably most elegant work which has ever been issued, in parts, in this country. The purpose of the work is, with historic outlines of the explorations and settlements of Europeans in America, and of the later emigration westward, to delineate events and incidents which illustrate the character- istics of the Pioneers, including, under that name, the cruel Spanish bigot and fierce French Huguenot in Florida, the thriftless adventurer and the proud cavalier of Virginia, the tolerant Catholic of Maryland, the exclusive Puritan of New England, the fearless Jesuit of Canada and the Mississippi valley, the peaceful Quaker of Penn- sylvania, the thrifty Dutch trader of New Netherlands, the daring backwoodsman, the sturdy descendant of the early colonists seeking a new home in the wilderness, the Mormon of Utah, the gold-hunter of California, and others who have braved danger and suffered privations on the frontiers of civilization. The history of these various pioneers is a record of terrible hardships endured and fearful perils encountered, of strange events and romantic episodes, of religious zeal and superstitious fanaticism, of persecution and martyrdom, of sturdy courage and daring exploits. Massacres by Spaniards, French, English, and savages, by turn chill the blood of the reader ; the early enslavement of natives is avenged by the sad captivity of whites ; war and famine are followed by peace and plenty ; and, with persistent energy and strong arms, civilization establishes itself on the Atlantic coast, subdues the forest, makes the wilderness bloom, and advances westward, over mountains and across plains, to the Pacific. The materials have been gathered over a wide field, and always from authentic sources ; and the work has been written by the author of a recent illustrated History of the late Civil War, which has been acknowledged to be among the best of the contemporary histories of that eventful period. In the artistic department of the work the Publishers can confidently challenge competition. The illus- trations are all from original drawings, made expressly and exclusively for this work, by F. O. C. DARLEY, W. L. SHEPPARD, G. PERKINS, and others, from subjects selected by the author, and the artists have added to their reputations as the leading designers of America. The initial letters of the chapters were also designed and engraved expressly for this work. The engraving has been under the special and personal supervision of Mr. GEORGE T. ANDREW, of the firm of JOHN ANDREW & SON, by whom, with W. J. LINTON, A. V. S. ANTHONY, and others, it has been executed in a style unequalled by any similar work ever attempted in this country. Printed at the well-known University Press, these illustrations, as well as the letter-press, are wholly American, and may well be offered in this Centennial year, as a beautiful specimen of American art and workmanship. CONDITIONS OF PUBLICATION. The work will be published in SEMI-MONTHLY PARTS, and printed on highly calendered toned paper, of superior quality, made expressly for this work. . Each Part will contain four Engravings and forty pages of Letter-press, and will le completed in TWENTY- FOUR PARTS, at 50 cents each, payable on delivery, the carrier not being allowed to give credit or receive pav in advance. . . .No stibscription will be taken for less than ONE ENTIRE COPY; and as the Publishers pledge themselves K perform their part as above stated, -they will consider every subscriber pledged to receive the work agre,^y to the present conditions. ^SUBSCRIBERS REMOVING, OR NOT BEING REGULARLY SUPPLIED, WILL PLEASE NOTIFY THE t UBLISHERS, BY MAIL OR OTHERWISE. ^ i_ o+ ~+ Q^ot^n SAMUEL WALKER & CO., 18 Arch Street, Boston.