Smith making toys.
It is true there is no mention of Pocahontas saving the life of Smith in the "True Relation," but it must not be forgotten that it is confessed that the editor came upon his copy at second or third hand; that is, we suppose that it had been copied in MS. He also confesses to selecting what he thought "fit to be printed." "Can any one doubt," says Eggleston, "that the 'True Relation' was carefully revised, not to say corrupted, in the interest of the company and the colony? And, if so, what more natural than that the hostility of so great a chief as Powhatan would be concealed? For the great need of the colony was a fresh supply of colonists. Nothing would have so much tended to check emigration to Virginia (especially women) as a belief that the most powerful neighboring prince was at war with the settlement."
But Smith does mention the thrilling incident in his letter to Queen Anne, on behalf of his protege, and rings the changes on it. Said he, "Pocahontas, the King's most dear and well-beloved daughter, being but a child of twelve or thirteen years of age, whose compassionate, pitiful heart, of desperate estate, gave me much cause to respect her." . . . For "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."
The amiable young "princess," Pocahontas, became the first Christian convert in Virginia, as well as the first bride, when she married John Rolfe, in 1613. At her baptism she received the name "Lady Rebecca," no doubt in allusion to Rebekah, the wife of Isaac, who became the mother of two distinct nations and two manner of people.
In 1616 she and her husband went to England. Here the "Lady Rebecca" received great attentions at court and was entertained by the Bishop of London. Pocahontas remained in England about a year; and when, with her husband and son, she was about to return to Virginia, with her father's counselor, Tomocomo, she was seized with smallpox at Gravesend and died in June,1617, aged twenty-two.
It may assist the reader to remember the place by recalling that atGravesendher beautiful life came to anendand she found agraveunder the chancel of the parish church.
John Rolfe returned to Virginia and became a prominent official of the colony. His son, Thomas Rolfe, was taken to London, where he was brought up by an uncle. When he was a young man he came to Virginia, and, as "Lieutenant Rolfe," commanded Fort James, on the Chickahominy.
In 1644, when about twenty-six, he petitioned the Governor for permission to visit his great uncle, Ope-chan-ca-nough, and his aunt, Cleopatre, who still lived in the woods on the York river. He married a young lady of England, became a gentleman of "note and fortune" in Virginia, and some of the most prominent families of that State are descended from him.
John Randolph, of Roanoke, was the best known of his descendants and was proud of his Indian blood. His manner of walking and the peculiar brightness of his eyes are said to have shown his origin, and he once said he came of a race who never forgot a kindness or forgave an injury. Randolph was sixth in descent from Pocahontas, through Jane Rolfe, her grand-daughter. "And," as John Esten Cook says, "the blood of Powhatan mingled with that of his old enemies. Dead for many years, and asleep in his sepulcher at Orapax, the savage old Emperor still spoke in the voice of his great descendant, the orator of Roanoke."
The crafty Powhatan, seeing how much superior the English weapons were to his own, determined to possess some of them. Accordingly, after sparing the life of Captain Smith, he told him that they were now friends and that he would presently send him home, and when he arrived at Jamestown he must send him two great guns and a grindstone. He also promised to consider him his son and give him the country of Capahowosick.
Smith was shortly afterward sent to Jamestown with twelve guides and arrived safely after seven weeks' captivity. Here he treated his savage guides with great hospitality and showed Rawhunt, their leader, two demi-culverins (long cannon carrying a nine-pound shot) and a millstone to carry to Powhatan. The Indians, however, "found them somewhat too heavy." To give them a wholesome fright, Smith caused a cannon to be loaded with stone and fired among the boughs of trees filled with icicles. The effect may easily be imagined.
Presents of various toys and trinkets were now given the Indians for Powhatan and his family and they went away satisfied.
During the same winter Smith visited Powhatan in company with Newport. Attended by a guard of thirty or forty men they sailed as far as We-ro-wo-co-mo-co the first day. Here Newport's courage failed him. But Smith, with twenty men, went on and visited the chief at his town.
Powhatan exerted himself to the utmost to give his adopted son a royal entertainment. The warriors shouted for joy to see Smith; orations were addressed to him and a plentiful feast provided to refresh him after his journey. The great sachem received him, reclining upon his bed of mats, his pillow of dressed skin lying beside him with its brilliant embroidery of shells and beads, and his dress consisting chiefly of a handsome fur robe. Along the sides of the house sat twenty comely females, each with her head and shoulders painted red and a great chain of white beads about her neck. "Before these sat his chiefest men in like order, and more than fortie platters of fine bread stood in two piles on each side of the door. Foure or five hundred people made a guard behind them for our passage; and Proclamation was made, none upon paine of death to presume to doe us any wrong or discourtesie. With many pretty discourses to renew their old acquaintance, this great king and our captain spent the time, till the ebbe left our barge aground. Then renewing their feast with feates, dauncing and singing, and such like mirth, we quartered that night with Powhatan."
The next day Captain Newport came ashore and was received with savage pomp, Smith taking the part of interpreter. Newport presented Powhatan with a boy named Thomas Salvage. In return the chief gave him a servant of his named Namontack, and several days were spent in feasting, dancing and trading, during which time the old sachem manifested so much dignity and so much discretion as to create a high admiration of his talents in the minds of his guests.
Newport had brought with him a variety of articles for barter, such as he supposed would command a high price in corn. Not finding the lower class of Indians profitable, as they dealt on a small scale and had but little corn to spare, he was anxious to drive a bargain with Powhatan himself. This, however, the haughty chief affected to decline and despise.
"Captain Newport," said he, "it is not agreeable to my greatness to truck in this peddling manner for trifles. I am a great werowance and I esteem you the same. Therefore lay me down all your commodities together; what I like I will take and in return you shall have what I conceive to be a fair value."
Newport fell into the trap. He did as requested, contrary to Smith's advice. Powhatan selected the best of his goods and valued his corn so high that Smith says it might as well have been purchased in old Spain. They did not get four bushels, where they expected twenty hogsheads.
It was now Smith's turn to try his skill; and he made his experiment not upon the sagacity of Powhatan but upon his simplicity. Picking up a string of large brilliant blue beads he contrived to glance them as if by accident, so that their glint attracted the eye of the chief, who at once became eager to see them. Smith denied having them, then protested he could not sell them as they were made of the same stuff as the sky and only to be worn by the greatest kings on earth.
Powhatan immediately became "half-mad" to own "such strange jewels." It ended by Smith securing two or three hundred bushels of corn for a pound or two of blue beads. Having loaded their barges, they floated with the next tide. They also visited Ope-chan-ca-nough before their return and "fitted this chief with blue beads on the same terms."
On September 10, 1608, Smith was made President of the colony and things had begun to run smoothly when the marplot Newport returned with several wild schemes. He brought with him orders from King James for a coronation of Powhatan as Emperor, together with elaborate presents for the old chief. A more foolish thing was never perpetrated. Smith, with his usual hard sense, protested against it. He well knew that it would tend to increase the haughty chief's notions of his own importance and make it impossible to maintain friendly relations with him. Finding his opposition in vain he insisted on at least trying to get Powhatan to come to Jamestown for the ceremony, and even offered to go himself and extend the invitation to the chief.
Smith took with him four companions only and went across the woods by land, about twelve miles, to We-ro-wo-co-mo-co. Powhatan was then absent at a distance of twenty or thirty miles. Pocahontas immediately sent for him and he arrived the following day. Smith now delivered his message desiring him to visit "his father" Newport at Jamestown for the purpose of receiving the newly arrived presents and also concerting a campaign in common against the Monacans. But this proud representative in the American forest of the divine right of kings haughtily replied, "If your King has sent me a present, I also am a King and this is my land; eight days I will stay to receive them. Your father is to come to me, not I to him, nor yet to your fort neither will I bite at such a bait; as for the Monacans I can revenge my own injuries."
"This is the lofty potentate," says a charming writer, "whom Smith could have tickled out of his senses with a glass bead and who would have infinitely preferred a big shining copper kettle to the misplaced honor intended to be thrust upon him, but the offer of which puffed him up beyond the reach of negotiation."
After some further general conversation Smith returned with his answer. If the mountain would not come to Mahomet, then Mahomet must go to the mountain. The presents were sent by water around to We-ro-wo-co-mo-co and the two captains with a guard of fifty men went by land. Smith describes the ridiculous ceremony of the coronation, the last act of which shows that the old sachem himself saw the size of the joke. "The presents were brought him, his basin and ewer, bed and furniture setup, his scarlet cloak and apparel with much adoe put on him, being assured they would not hurt him. But a foule trouble there was to make him kneel to receive his crown; he not knowing the majesty, nor wearing of a crown, nor bending of the knee, endured so many persuasions, examples and instructions as tyred them all. At last by bearing hard on his shoulders, he a little stooped, and three having the crown in their hands, put it on his head, when by the warning of a pistoll the boats were prepared with such a volly of shot, that the king started up in a horrible feare, till he saw all was well. Then, remembering himself, to congratulate their kindness, he gave his old shoes (moccasins) and his mantell (of raccoon skins) to Captain Newport." The mountain labored and brought forth a mouse.
Little was heard of Powhatan for some time after this, except occasionally through the medium of some of his tribes, who refused to trade with the English in consequence of his orders to that effect. He had evidently become jealous, but appearances were still kept up, and in December, 1608, the Emperor (for he is now one of the crowned heads) invited the captain to visit him. He wanted his assistance in building a house, and if he would bring with him a grindstone, fifty swords, a few muskets, a cock and hen, with a quantity of beads and copper, he might depend upon getting a ship load of corn.
Smith accepted the invitation and set off with a pinnace and two barges manned by forty-six volunteers. It was on this occasion that a severe storm drove Smith and his men to seek shelter and spend Christmas with friendly Indians, where they enjoyed the good cheer and hospitality mentioned elsewhere in this narrative.
They reached We-ro-wo-co-mo-co January 12, quartered without much ceremony at the first house they found, and sent to Powhatan for a supply of provisions. The wily old chief furnished them with plenty of bread, venison and turkeys, but pretended not to have sent for them at all. In reply Smith asked if he had forgotten his own invitation thus suddenly, and then produced the messengers who had carried it, and who happened to be near at hand. Powhatan affected to regard the whole affair as a mere joke and laughed heartily. Smith reproached him with deceit and hostility. The chief replied by wordy evasions and seemed very indifferent about his new house. He demanded guns and swords in exchange for corn, which Smith, of course, refused. By this time the captain was provoked and gave the chief to understand that necessity might force him to use disagreeable expedients in relieving his own wants and the need of the colony. Powhatan listened to this declaration with cool gravity and replied with corresponding frankness. Said he, "I will spare you what I can and that within two days. But, Captain Smith, I have some doubts as to your object in this visit. I am informed that you wish to conquer more than to trade, and at all events you know my people must be afraid to come near you with their corn so long as you go armed and with such a retinue. Lay aside your weapons then. Here they are needless. We are all friends, all Powhatans." The information here alluded to was probably gained from the two Dutchmen who had deserted the colony and gone among the Indians.
A great contest of ingenuity now ensued between the Englishman and the savage, the latter endeavoring to temporize only for the purpose of putting Smith and his men off their guard. He especially insisted on the propriety of laying aside their arms.
"Captain Smith," he continued, "I am old and I know well the difference between peace and war. I wish to live quietly with you and I wish the same for my successors. Now, rumors which reach me on all hands make me uneasy. What do you expect to gain by destroying us who provide you with food? And what can you get by war if we escape you and hide our provisions in the woods? We are unarmed, too, you see. Do you believe me such a fool as not to prefer eating good meat, sleeping quietly with my wives and children, laughing and making merry with you, having copper and hatchets and anything else—as your friend—to flying from you as your enemy, lying cold in the woods, eating acorns and roots, and being so hunted by you meanwhile that if but a twig break, my men will cry out, 'There comes Captain Smith.' Let us be friends, then. Do not invade us with such an armed force. Lay aside these arms."
But Smith was proof against this eloquence, which, it will be conceded, was of a high order. Believing the chief's purpose was to disarm the English and then massacre them, he ordered the ice broken and the pinnace brought nearer shore. More men were then landed preparatory to an attack.
The white man and the Indian were well matched in general intelligence, insight into character and craftiness. No diplomacy inferior to that of the Indian Emperor could have so long retained the upper hand of Smith. No leader of less courage and resources than John Smith could so long have maintained a starving colony in the hostile dominions of the great Powhatan.
While waiting until the re-enforcements could land. Smith tried to keep Powhatan engaged in a lengthy conversation. But the Indian outwitted him. Leaving three of his handsomest and most entertaining wives to occupy Smith's attention, Powhatan slipped through the rear of his bark dwelling and escaped, while his warriors surrounded the house. When Smith discovered the danger he rushed boldly out. Flourishing his sword and firing his pistol at the nearest savage he escaped to the river, where his men had just landed.
The English had already traded a copper kettle to Powhatan for eighty bushels of corn. This was now delivered, and with loaded muskets they forced the Indians to fill the boat.
By the time this was done night had come on, but the loaded vessel could not be moved until high tide. Smith and his men must remain ashore until morning. Powhatan and his warriors plotted to attack them while at their supper. Once again Pocahontas saved Smith. Slipping into the camp she hurriedly warned him of his danger and revealed the whole plot. The captain offered her handsome presents and rewards, but with tears in her eyes she refused them all, saying it would cost her her life to be seen to have them.
Pocahontas
Presently ten lusty warriors came bearing a hot supper for the English and urging them to eat. But Smith compelled the waiters first to taste their own food as an assurance against poison. He then sent them back to tell Powhatan the English were ready for him.
No one was permitted to sleep that night, but all were ordered to be ready to fight any moment, as large numbers of Indians could be seen lurking around. Their vigilance saved them, and with the high tide of the morning the homeward trip was commenced.
Such benefits resulted from the marriage of Rolfe and Pocahontas that Governor Dale piously ascribed it to the divine approval resting on the conversion of the heathen, and reflecting that another daughter of Powhatan would form an additional pledge of peace, sent Ralph Hamer and the interpreter, Thomas Savage, to Powhatan to procure a second daughter for himself.
They found the aged chief at Matchcat, further up the river than We-ro-wo-co-mo-co, and after a pipe of tobacco had been passed around Powhatan inquired anxiously about his daughter's welfare, "her marriage, his unknown son, and how they liked, lived and loved together." Hamer answered that they "lived civilly and lovingly together," and "that his daughter was so well content that she would not change her life to return and live with him, whereat he laughed heartily and said he was very glad of it."
Powhatan now asked the particular cause of Mr. Hamer's visit. On being told it was private, the Emperor ordered the room cleared of all except the inevitable pair of queens, who sat on either side of the monarch. Hamer began by saying that he was the bearer of a number of presents from Governor Dale, consisting of coffee, beads, combs, fish hooks and knives, and a promise of the much-talked-of grindstone whenever Powhatan would send for it. He then added that the Governor, hearing of the fame of the Emperor's youngest daughter, was desirous of making her "his nearest companion and wife." He conceived there could not be a finer bond of union between the two people than such a connection; and, besides, Pocahontas was exceedingly anxious for her sister's companionship at Jamestown. He hoped that Powhatan would at least suffer her to visit the colony when he should return.
Powhatan more than once came very near interrupting the delivery of this message. But he controlled himself, and when Hamer had finished, the Emperor gracefully acknowledged the compliment, but protested that his daughter had been three days married to a certain young chief. To this the brazen Hamer replied that this was nothing; that the groom would readily relinquish her for the ample presents which Governor Dale would make, and further that a prince of his greatness might easily exert his authority to reclaim his daughter on some pretext. To this base proposition the old sachem made an answer of which the nobility and purity might have put to shame the unscrupulous Hamer. He confessed that he loved his daughter as his life and though he had many children he delighted in her most of all. He could not live without seeing her every day and that would be impossible if she went among the colonists, for he had resolved upon no account to put himself in their power or to visit them. He desired no other pledge of friendship than the one already existing in the marriage of his Pocahontas, unless she should die, in which case he would give up another child. He concluded with the following pathetic eloquence: "I hold it not a brotherly part for your King to endeavor to bereave me of my two darling children at once. Give him to understand that if he had no pledge at all, he need not distrust any injury from me or my people. There has already been too much of blood and war; too many of my people and of his have already fallen in our strife, and by my occasion there shall never be any more. I, who have power to perform it, have said it; no, not though I should have just occasion offered, for I am now grown old and would gladly end my few remaining days in peace and quiet. Even if the English should offer me injury, I would not resent it. My country is large enough and I would remove myself further from you. I hope this will give satisfaction to my brother, he can not have my daughter. If he is not satisfied, I will move three days' journey from him and never see Englishmen more."
His speech was ended. The barbarian's hall of state was silent. The council fire unreplenished had burned low during the interview and the great crackling logs lay reduced to a dull heap of embers—fit symbol of the aged chieftain who had just spoken.
As Mason well says, "Call him a savage, but remember that his shining love for his daughter only throws into darker shadow the infamous proposition of the civilized Englishman to tear away the three days' bride from the arms of her Indian lover and give her to a man who had already a wife in England. Call him a barbarian, but forget not that when his enemies hungered he gave them food. When his people were robbed, whipped and imprisoned by the invaders of his country, he had only retaliated and had never failed to buy the peace to which he was entitled without money and without price. Call him a heathen, but do not deny that when he said that, if the English should do him an injury, he would not resent it but only move further from them, he more nearly followed the rule of the Master, of whom he was ignorant, than did the faithless, pilfering adventurers at the fort, who rolled their eyes heavenward and called themselves Christians."
No candid person can read the history of this famous Indian with an attentive consideration of the circumstances under which he was placed without forming a high estimate of his character as a warrior, statesman and a patriot. His deficiencies were those of education and not of genius. His faults were those of the people whom he governed and of the period in which he lived. His great talents, on the other hand, were his own and these are acknowledged even by those historians who still regard him with prejudice.
Smith calls him "a prince of excellent sense and parts, and a great master of all the savage arts of government and policy."
He died in 1618, just one year after the untimely death of Pocahontas, "full of years and satiated with fightings, and the delights of savage life." He is a prominent character in the early history of our country and well does he deserve it. In his prime he was as ambitious as Julius Cæsar and not less successful, considering his surroundings. He and Pocahontas were the real "F. F. V.'s," for, beyond controversy, they were of the "First Families of Virginia."
"Welcome, Englishmen!"A terrific peal of thunder from a cloudless sky would not have astonished the Plymouth Fathers as did these startling words. It was March 16, 1621, a remarkably pleasant day, and they had assembled in town meeting to plan and discuss ways and means for the best interests of the colony. So engrossed were they with the matter under consideration they did not notice the approach of a solitary Indian as he stalked boldly through the street of this village until he advanced towards the astonished group, and with hand outstretched in a friendly gesture and with perfectly intelligible English addressed them with the words, "Welcome, Englishmen!" The astonished settlers started to their feet and grasped their ever ready weapons. But reassured by his friendly gestures and hearty repetition of the familiar English phrase in which only kindness lurked, the settlers cordially returned his greeting and reciprocated his "welcome," which is the only one the Pilgrims ever received.
"He who would have friends must show himself friendly." This their dusky guest had done and it paved the way for a pleasant interview, which resulted in mutual good. Knowing that the way to the heart lies through the stomach, they at once gave their visitor "strong water, biscuit, butter, cheese and some pudding, with a piece of mallard."
The heart of the savage was gained: the taciturnity characteristic of his race gave way and he imparted valuable information, much of it pertaining to things they had long desired to know. They ascertained that his name was Samoset, that he was a subordinate chief of the Wampanoag tribe, and his hunting-grounds were near the island of Monhegan, which is at the mouth of Penobscot Bay. With a strong wind it was but a day's sail eastward, but it required five days to make the journey by land. This was a noted fishing place and he had learned something of the English language from crews of fishing vessels which frequented his coast. He told them the country in their vicinity was called Pawtuxet; that four years previous a terrible pestilence had swept off the tribes that inhabited the district, so that none remained to claim the soil.
He also informed them that a powerful sachem named Massasoit was their nearest neighbor. He lived about Montaup (afterward corrupted by the English into Mount Hope), and was chief of the Wampanoag tribe as well as head sachem of the Pokanoket confederacy of thirty tribes. Massasoit, he said, was disposed to be friendly. But another tribe, called the Nausets, were greatly incensed against the English, and with just cause. Samoset was able to define this cause, which also served to explain the fierce attack the Pilgrims received from the savages in their memorable "First Encounter."
It seems that a captain by the name of Hunt who had been left in charge of a vessel by Captain John Smith, while exploring the coast of New England in 1614, had exasperated the Indians beyond endurance. Captain Smith thus records this infamous crime in his "Generale Historie of New England." "He (Hunt) betraied foure and twentie of these poore salvages aboord his ship, and most dishonestly and inhumanely for their kind usage of me and all our men, carried them with him to Maligo, and there for a little private gaine sold those silly salvages for Rials of eight; but this vilde act kept him ever after from any more emploiement to these parts."
Samoset had heard from his red brothers all about this kidnapping, as well as the attack on the Pilgrims in revenge for it.
The sequel of Hunt's outrageous crime is quite interesting. He sold his victims, as we have seen, at Malaga, for eighty pounds each, but some of them, including an Indian by the name of Squanto, were ransomed and liberated by the monks of that island.
Squanto now went first to Cornhill, England, afterward to London. Here he acquired some knowledge of the English language and obtained the friendship and sympathy of Mr. John Slaney, a merchant of that city, who protected him and determined to send the poor exile back to his native land.
About this time (1619) Sir F. Gorges was preparing to send a ship to New England under the command of Captain Thomas Dermer, and it was arranged for Squanto to embark on board this ship. "When I arrived," says Dermer in his letter to Purchas, "at my savage's native country, finding all dead (because of the pestilence), I traveled along a day's journey to a place called Nummastaquyt, where, finding inhabitants, I dispatched a messenger a day's journey further west, to Pacanokit, which bordereth on the sea; whence came to see me two kings, attended with a guard of fifty armed men, who being well satisfied with that my savage and I discoursed unto them (being desirous of novelty) gave me content in whatsoever I demanded. Here I redeemed a Frenchman and afterwards another at Masstachusitt, who three years since escaped shipwreck at the northeast of Cape Cod."
One of these two "kings," as the sachems were frequently entitled by the early writers, must have been Massasoit, the other was probably his brother, Quadepinah.
The good Captain Dermer was faithful to his trust and delivered the poor exile Squanto to his native land, but not to his own people at Plymouth, as they had been swept off by the pestilence in his absence. He, however, became a loyal subject of Massasoit. He was introduced to the English settlers at Plymouth by Samoset on his third visit. Squanto was disposed to return good for evil, and forgetting the outrage of the knave who had kidnapped him and remembering only the great kindness which he had received from his benefactor, Mr. Slaney, and from the people generally in London, in generous requital now attached himself cordially to the Pilgrims and became their firm friend. His residence in England, as we have stated, had rendered him quite familiar with the English language, and he proved invaluable, not only as an interpreter, but also in instructing them respecting fishing, woodcraft, planting corn and other modes of obtaining support in the wilderness.
Squanto brought the welcome intelligence that his sovereign chief, the great Massasoit, had heard of the arrival of the Pilgrims and was approaching to pay them a friendly visit, attended by a retinue of sixty warriors. An hour later Massasoit and his warriors, accompanied by his brother, Quadepinah (sometimes written Quadequina) appeared on a neighboring hill. The wily sachem was well acquainted with the conduct of the unprincipled Hunt and other English seamen who had skirted the coast and committed all manner of outrages on the natives, and he was too wary to place himself in the power of strangers, respecting whom he entertained such well grounded suspicions. He therefore took a position on a hill where he could not be taken by surprise and in case of attack could retreat if necessary.
As they seemed unwilling to approach nearer, Squanto was sent to ascertain their designs, and was informed that they wished some one should be sent to hold a parley. Edward Winslow was appointed to discharge this duty, and he immediately waited on the sachem and conveyed a present consisting of a pair of knives and a copper chain with a jewel attached to it. Also a knife, a jewel to hang on his ear, "a pot of strong water, a good quantity of biscuit and some butter" for Quadepinah. Massasoit received him with dignity, yet with courtesy. Mr. Winslow, with the aid of Squanto as interpreter, addressed the chief in a speech of some length, to which the Indians listened with the decorous gravity characteristic of the race. The purport of the speech was that King James saluted the sachem, his brother, with the words of peace and love; that he accepted him as his friend and ally; and that the Governor desired to see him and to trade and treat with him upon friendly terms.
Massasoit made no special reply to these words, probably for the sufficient reason that he did not fully comprehend the drift of it, except the last clause. He observed the sword and armor of Winslow during the harangue, and, when he had ceased speaking, signified his disposition to commence the proposed trade immediately by buying them. They were not, however, for sale; and after a brief parley Winslow was left behind as a hostage in the custody of Quadepinah, while Massasoit and twenty unarmed followers met Standish, Williamson and six musketeers at the brook which divided the parties.
Ope-Chan-Ca-Nough
The sachem and his retinue, marching in Indian file one behind the other, led by the chief, were escorted to the best house in the village. Here a green rug was spread upon the floor and several cushions piled on it for his accommodation. Presently Governor Carver entered the house in as great state as he could command, with beat of drum and blare of trumpet, and a squad of armed men as a bodyguard. The Governor took the hand of Massasoit and kissed it. The Indian chieftain immediately imitated his example and returned the salute.
The two leaders now sat down together and regaled themselves with refreshments consisting chiefly of "strong waters, a thing the savages love very well; and the sachem took such a large draught of it at once as made him sweat all the while he staid." The white man's "firewater" thus in evidence in this treaty has been the most fruitful source of the red man's ruin from that day to the present time. Following are the terms of the treaty concluded upon this occasion:
1. That neither he nor any of his (Massasoit's) should injure or do hurt to any of their people.
2. That if any of his did any hurt to any of theirs, he should send the offender, that they might punish him.
3. That if anything were taken away from any of theirs, he should cause it to be restored, and they should do the like to his.
4. That if any did unjustly war against him, they would aid him; and if any did war against them, he should aid them.
5. That he should send to his neighbor confederates, to inform them of this, that they might not wrong them, but might be like wise comprised in these conditions of peace.
6. That when his came to them upon any occasion, they should leave their arms behind them.
7. That so doing, their sovereign lord, King James, would esteem him as his friend and ally.
Such was the first treaty made with the Indians of New England, which remained in force fifty-four years. Nor was Massasoit or any of the Wampanoags during his lifetime convicted by the harshest revilers of his race of having violated or attempted to violate any of its provisions. It was eminently satisfactory to both parties to the compact, but a close reading will show hints (as usual) of the white man overreaching his red brother. In the first place they got an immense territory for a few baubles and gewgaws, part of which were utterly useless. Then, too, the Indians were required to come unarmed in their interviews with the Pilgrims, but we fail to find it stated that the white men should leave their pieces behind them on going among the Indians. It is also noticed that the Indians were to aid the English should any foe war against them, and the English should aid the Indians should any foe "unjustly war against them." Why this word "unjustly" on the one side and not on the other? And who was to decide the matter? Certainly the Puritans. But to their credit be it said, they did send aid to their ally promptly in his time of need, as we shall see.
Massasoit is thus described in the Pilgrim's Journal: "In his person he is a very lusty man in his best years, an able body, grave of countenance and spare of speech; in his attire little or nothing differing from the rest of his followers, save only in a great chain of white beads about his neck; behind his neck, attached to the chain, hangs a pouch of tobacco which he drank (smoked) and gave us to drink. His face was painted with a seal red, and he was oiled both head and face that he looked greasily." He and his companions were picturesquely dressed in skins and plumes of brilliant colors. Being tall, strongmen, and the first natives whom most of the colonists had ever seen near at hand, they must have impressed them as a somewhat imposing as well as interesting spectacle.
After the conclusion of this famous treaty, Massasoit was conducted by the Governor to the brook and rejoined his party, leaving hostages behind. Presently his brother, Quadepinah, came over with a retinue, and was entertained with like hospitality. The next day, on an invitation from the chief, Standish and Allerton returned his visit and were regaled with "three or four ground-nuts and some tobacco." Governor Carver sent for the chief's kettle and returned it "full of pease, which pleased them well, and so they went their way."
The next interview the colonists had with Massasoit was in July, 1621. At this time an embassy consisting of Edward Winslow and Stephen Hopkins, with Squanto as interpreter, was sent to make the sachem a formal visit at Montaup, his seat near the Narragansett bay. The objects of this embassy were, says Mourt, "that forasmuch as his subjects came often and without fear upon all occasions amongst us, becoming, in fact, a sad annoyance to the colonists as they went to the sea shore in search of lobsters and to fish. Men, women and children always hanging about the village, clamorous for food and pertinaciously inquisitive." It was partly to abate this nuisance and "partly," says the old chronicle, "to know where to find our savage allies, if occasion served, as also to see their strength, explore the country, make satisfaction for some injuries conceived to have been done on our parts, and to continue, the league of peace and friendship between them and us." The "injuries" here mentioned refer to the fact that the colonists shortly after their arrival found corn buried in the ground. Seeing no inhabitants in the neighborhood, "but some graves of the dead newly buried," they took the corn with the intention of making full satisfaction for it whenever it became practicable. The owners of it were supposed to have fled through fear. It was now proposed that the owners of this corn should be informed by Massasoit, if they could be found, that the English were ready to pay them with an equal quantity of corn, English meal, or "any other commodities they had to pleasure them withal"; and full satisfaction was offered for any trouble which the sachem might do them the favor to take. All of which shows that the Pilgrim Fathers were scrupulously just in their dealings with the Indians.
The two ambassadors and their guide, bearing presents for the sachem, started on their journey through the forest. Much they marveled at the well-nigh infallible skill of Squanto in always leading right, even when confronted with a mazy labyrinth of paths pointing in every direction. They met several bands of Indians en route, and partook of such hospitality as they had to offer. Their number was augmented by six stalwart savages, who insisted not only on bearing them company but bearing their arms and baggage. At the various fords the friendly Indians carried the Englishmen over dry-shod upon their shoulders, which is quite remarkable, in view of the proverbial laziness of the Indians in general and those of the New England coast in particular.
In due time the envoys arrived at Montaup, or Sowams, the residence of Massasoit. The sachem was not at home, but was quickly summoned by a runner and was saluted by his visitors with a discharge of musketry. He welcomed them heartily after the Indian manner, took them into his lodge and seated them by himself. The envoys then delivered their message and presents, the latter consisting of a copper chain and a horseman's coat of red cotton embroidered with lace. Massasoit proudly hung the chain about his neck and arrayed himself in this superb garment without delay, evidently enjoying the admiration of his people, who gazed upon him at a distance. The great chief now gathered his leading warriors around him, and after the pipe of peace had been smoked by all, he answered the message in detail. Expressing his desire to continue in peace and friendship with his neighbors, he promised to promote the traffic in furs, to furnish a supply of corn for seed and, in short, to comply with all their requests.
The two commissioners stated the case concerning the too frequent and protracted visits of the Indians to the colony with great tact and delicacy, assuring the sachem that he himself or any he might send would always be welcome. "To the end that we might know his messengers from others," wrote Winslow, "we desired Massasoit, if any one should come from him to us to send the copper chain, that we might know the savage and harken and give credit to his message accordingly."
As it grew late and he offered no more substantial entertainment than this, "no doubt for the sound reason," as Thatcher says, "that he had nothing to offer," his guests expressed a desire to retire for the night. The chief at once complied with their request in the language of Winslow, "He laid us on the bed with himself and his wife, they at one end and we at the other, it being only planks laid a foot from the ground, and a thin mat upon them. Two more of chief men, for want of room, pressed by and upon us, so that we were worse weary of our lodging than of our journey."
The next day the two ambassadors had no breakfast, but the morning was taken up in receiving, as visitors, several subordinate sachems and their warriors, and in witnessing Indian games which had been gotten up for their entertainment. About noon Massasoit, who had gone hunting at dawn, returned, bringing with him two large fishes which he had speared or shot with arrows. These were soon boiled and divided among forty persons this was the first meal taken by the envoys for a day and two nights.
The afternoon passed slowly away and again the two white men went supperless to bed, only to spend another sleepless night, being kept awake by vermin, hunger and noise of the savages. Friday morning they arose at dawn resolved to immediately commence their journey home. At this Massasoit greatly importuned them to remain longer with him. "But we determined," they recorded in their graphic narrative, "to keep the Sabbath at home, and feared that we should either be light-headed for want of sleep, for what with bad lodgings, the savages' barbarous singing (for they used to sing themselves to sleep), lice and fleas within doors and mosquitoes without, we could hardly sleep all the time of our being there; we much fearing that if we should stay any longer we should not be able to recover home for want of strength; so that on the Friday morning before the sun rising we took our leave and departed, Massasoit being both grieved and ashamed that he could no better entertain us." It is thus apparent that Massasoit, in spite of his many virtues and the conceded fact that he was the greatest chief of all the New England tribes of this period, was in his housekeeping the smallest possible removed above brute life.
With the streams and bays swarming with fish, the neighboring forest filled with turkey, deer and other game, he and his people seem to have lived in semi-starvation. This fact is all the more startling when it is contrasted with the great abundance enjoyed by Powhatan, Joseph Brant, Red Jacket and others, mentioned elsewhere, and their tribes. But it is also true of this great chief that despite his pinching poverty, when the test came he proved to be pure gold refined by fire.
Thatcher informs us that "Massasoit's friendship was again tested in March, 1622, when an Indian known to be under Squanto's influence came running in among a party of colonists with his face gashed and the blood fresh upon it, calling out to them to flee for their lives, and then looking behind him as if pursued. On coming up he told them that the Indians under Massasoit were gathering at a certain place for an attack upon the colony; that he had received his wounds in consequence of opposing their designs and had barely escaped from them with his life. The report occasioned no little alarm, although the correctness of it was flatly denied by Hobbamak, a Pokanoket Indian residing at Plymouth, who recommended that a messenger be sent secretly to Sowams for the purpose of ascertaining the truth. This was done and the messenger, finding everything in its usually quiet state, informed Massasoit of the reports circulated against him. He was excessively incensed against Squanto, but sent his thanks to the Governor for the opinion of his fidelity which he understood him to retain, and directed the messenger to assure him that he should instantly apprise him of any conspiracy which might at any further time take place;" This whole affair seems to have been a plot on the part of Squanto, out of jealousy, to array the colonists against their ally, but happily for both parties it miscarried through the common-sense suggestion of Hobbamak.
Early in the spring of 1623 news came to Plymouth that Massasoit was very sick at his home, and it was determined to send Mr. Winslow to pay him a second visit in token of the friendship of the colonists. That gentleman started on his journey at once, taking with him Hobbamak as guide and interpreter, and accompanied by "one Master John Hampden, a London gentleman who had wintered with him and desired much to see the country and the Indians in their wigwam homes." This Hampden afterward became Cromwell's distinguished friend and counselor, and is alluded to in Gray's "Elegy."
The envoys had not gone far before they met some Indians who told them Massasoit was dead. The white men were shocked and Hobbamak began to wail forth his chief's death song: "Oh, great sachem. Oh, great heart, with many have I been acquainted, but none ever equaled thee." Then turning to his companions he said, "Oh, Master Winslow, his like you will never see again. He was not like other Indians, false and bloody and implacable; but kind, easily appeased when angry, and reasonable in his requirements. He was a wise sachem, not ashamed to ask advice, governing better with mild, than other chiefs did with severe measures. I fear you have not now one faithful friend left in the wigwams of the red men." He would then break forth again in loud lamentations, "enough." says Winslow, "to have made the hardest heart sob and wail." But time pressed, and Winslow, bidding Hobbamak "leave wringing of his hands" and follow him, trudged on through the forest until they came to Corbitant's village. The sachem was not at home but his squaw informed them that Massasoit was not yet dead, though he could scarcely live long enough to permit his visitors to close his eyes.
Believing that while there was life there was hope, the envoys pressed on and soon reached Massasoit's humble abode. "When we arrived thither," wrote Winslow, "we found the home so full that we could scarce get in, though they used their best diligence to make way for us. They were in the midst of their charms for him, making such a fiendish noise that it distempered us who were well, and therefore was unlike to ease him that was sick. About him were six or eight women who chafed his arms, legs and thighs, to keep heat in them. 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, but his sight was wholly gone, he asked who was come. They told him Winsnow, for they can not pronounce the letter L, but ordinarily N in the place thereof. He desired to speak with me. When I came to him they told him of it, he put forth his hand to me, which I took. Then he said twice, though very inwardly, 'Keen Winsnow?' which is to say, 'Art thou Winslow?' I answered 'Ahhe,' that is, 'Yes.' Then he doubled these words: 'Matta neen wonckanet namen Winsnow'; that is to say, '0, Winslow, I shall never see thee again;'" Hobbamak was now called in and desired to assure the sachem of the Governor's kind remembrance of him in his affliction, and to inform him of the medicine and delicacies they had brought with them for his use. Winslow, who seems to have possessed some knowledge of the healing art, then proceeded to use measures for his relief, consisting of a "confection of many comfortable conserves," which soon worked a cure. The convalescent sachem said, "Now I know that the English are indeed my friends, and love me; while I live I will not forget this kindness."
As Martyn well says, "Nobly did he keep his word; for, after requesting 'the pale-face medicine' to exercise his skill upon others of his tribe, who were down with the same disease which had laid him low, his gratitude was so warm that he disclosed to Winslow, through Hobbamak, the fact that a widespread and well matured conspiracy was afoot to exterminate Weston's colony, in revenge for injuries heaped upon the Indian; that all the northeastern tribes were in the league; and that the massacre was to include the Pilgrims also, lest they should avenge the fall of their neighbors."
"A chief was here at the setting of the sun," added Massasoit, "and he told me that the pale-faces did not love me, else they would visit me in my pain, and he urged me to join the war party. But I said, 'No.' Now, if you take the chiefs of the league and kill them, it will end the war-trail in the blood of those who made it, and save the setllements." The chief's advice was afterward taken by Miles Standish and his men, and proved to be successful in nipping the conspiracy in the bud.