Part 11

The friendship which Powhatan manifested towards the English at any time, was short-lived, and seems not to have been at all sincere. Constant deceptions were practised by him to gain his ends; and, so long as he lived, difficulties existed between him and the English. The noble Pocahontas was a sort of mediator between them, and often brought important intelligence, as seasonable aid, to the latter. On one occasion, after a long conference, in regard to a trade in provisions, in which deceptions were employed on both sides, and in which Powhatan endeavored to persuade Captain Smith and his men to treat with him in a friendly manner, and to throw aside their arms, Smith was about to resort to force in order to effect his object. Powhatan, however, succeeded in escaping from the conference, and in conveying his women, children, and effects into the woods. Even then he attempted to allure Smith into his presence unarmed, if possible, by sending him a present. Finding, at last, all artifices without effect, Powhatan resolved to fall upon the English in their cabins on the following night. But here Pocahontas interposed her kind offices, and was the means, most probably, of saving the life of Smith and his attendants. She came alone, in a dark night, through the woods, and apprised Smith of her father's design. For such a favor, Smith offered her whatever articles she would please to accept; but she declined taking any thing, and, with tears in her eyes, remarked, that if her father should see her with any thing, he would suspect what she had done, and instantly kill her. She then retired as she came, through the dismal forest.

After Smith's final departure from Virginia, the emperor's animosity against the whites was confirmed, as the English successor in the government, Lord De la War, was much less cautious and moderate in his measures with the Indians, severe as Smith's treatment of them was at times. The new governor, finding Powhatan not disposed to yield to his demands, proceeded to an act of horrid barbarity. Having got into his power an Indian prisoner, his lordship caused his right hand to be cut off. In this shocking condition he sent the poor creature to Powhatan. At the same time he gave the sachem to understand, that he would serve all the Indians in that manner, if they refused obedience any longer, and that he would destroy all the corn, which was then near to the harvest. Powhatan, consequently, could not but feel the most burning indignation against the Englishman.

Two years after Smith left Virginia, that is, in 1611, Captain Argal treacherously took the king's daughter prisoner, with a view to prevent him from doing injury to the English, as also to extort a large ransom from him, and such terms of peace as they should prescribe. On being informed of the captivity of Pocahontas, connected with the demand that he should restore to the English their men, guns, and tools, taken at different times by the Indians, the stern and wary chief became greatly embarrassed, and knew not what to do. They did not hear from him until at the expiration of three months, when he complied with their demand only in part. This did not satisfy Argal; the demand in full was reiterated; but Powhatan was again, for a long time, silent. The result was, that, in a year or two, Sir Thomas Dale took Pocahontas to the residence of her father, in hopes to effect an exchange, and bring about a peace. Powhatan was absent from home, and the party met with no kindly reception from the Indians, who seemed to take the presence of the English in dudgeon. The latter burned many of their Indian habitations, and gave out threats of other vengeance. This had the effect of inducing some of the Indians to come and make peace, as they called it. Pocahontas had then an opportunity of seeing two of her brothers, which gave her unbounded joy. After the marriage of this excellent Indian woman to Mr. Rolfe, the whites experienced less trouble from Powhatan; though it is believed that they were never entirely exempt from the effects of his policy or his power.

The successors of Powhatan were, first, Opitchapan, and, next, Opecancanough, both brothers of the emperor. Such was the law of the succession. The first-named chief seems never to have been noted for any distinguishing quality, but is spoken of as being feeble and decrepid. He compared unfavorably with his brother, who, in the council and in the field, was the most conspicuous personage among the Powhatans. He had, during the life-time of the late emperor, procured from the free tribe of the Chickahominies the title of their king.

It was Opecancanough who figured so disastrously in the great massacre of the whites, on the 22d March, 1622, which has been narrated in another place. It was kept a profound secret during four years, and burst upon the settlement like a bolt from heaven. In the vengeance, with which the English followed this act of treachery and blood, it was for some time supposed that Opecancanough was among the killed; but if history does not misguide us, the same sachem, twenty-two years afterwards, executed a still greater massacre upon the English. It is not known how long he had been plotting the extirpation of the whites, but in 1644, all the Indians over the space of country six hundred miles in extent, were joined in the enterprise. The governor and council had appointed a fast-day to be kept through the country upon Good-Friday for the success of the king. On the day before the intended fast, Opecancanough, borne in a litter, led his warriors forward, and commenced the work of death. He was supposed to be near one hundred years old at this time. The massacre commenced in the out-parts of the circumjacent country, and continued two days. The Indians fell suddenly upon the inhabitants, and killed all indiscriminately, to the number of three hundred. Their progress was checked by the arrival of Sir William Berkley, at the head of an armed force.

Subsequently to this massacre (the date has not been ascertained), this bloody chief was taken prisoner. Sir William intended to send him as a present to the king of England. He was, however, prevented from doing it, by the assassination of Opecancanough. The soldier who was appointed to guard him, fired upon him, and inflicted a mortal wound, it having been, as was supposed, an act of private revenge. Just before the old chief expired, hearing a great noise and crowd around him, he ordered an attendant to lift up his eye-lids, as from age and fatigue the elasticity of his muscles was in a great degree impaired, when he discovered a multitude pressing around him, to gratify the morbid desire of beholding a dying sachem. Aroused with indignation, and little fearing death, he seemed to disregard the crowd; but raising himself from the ground in the spirit of his wonted authority, commanded that the governor should be called to him. When the latter came, the chief uttered in his hearing the impassioned remark: "Had it been my fortune to have taken Sir William Berkley prisoner, I would not meanly have exposed him as a show to my people," and soon after expired. An Indian, whom they afterwards had seized as prisoner, confessed that they attempted this destruction of the English, because they saw the latter "took up all their lands from them, and would drive them out of the country, and they took this season, for that they understood that they were at war in England, and began to go to war among themselves." These intrusions upon the Indian territory were, however, conformable to the grants of the proprietors, the Indians. Opecancanough could hardly have expected an entire conquest, as his people had already begun to melt away, and the villages of the English planters were springing up over an extent of country of over five hundred miles, with a comparatively large population.

Nickotawance succeeded Opecancanough as a tributary to the English. In 1648, he came to Jamestown in company with several other chiefs, and brought a number of beaver-skins to be sent to the English king. He delivered a prolonged address, which he concluded with the protestation, "that the sun and moon should first lose their glorious lights and shining, before he or his people should ever more wrong the English."

The successor of this chief is supposed to have been Totopotomoi, as he was king of Pamunkey in 1656. In that year, a body of western or inland Indians, to the number of six or seven hundred, came down from the mountainous country, and took possession of the territory about the falls of James river. This fact coming to the knowledge of the legislature of Virginia, which was then in session, it was resolved to dislodge the Indians from their new location, as their situation and proximity were considered dangerous to the whites. The war seems not to have been attended with any success on the part of the colony. The English leader, with one hundred men, and Totopotomoi with one hundred of his warriors, suffered extremely in an engagement. It appears, however, that a peace was not long after concluded with the Indians.

A renowned warrior, Nemattanow, not having been mentioned in the proper order of time, may be introduced here. He was supposed to have had an agency in bringing about the great massacre of 1622. He was, however, an object of jealousy to Opecancanough, the leader in that tragedy, on account of his popularity among his countrymen. He is said to have been an eccentric and vain person, being wont "to dress himself up in a strange attire and barbaric fashion with feathers," on which account he obtained the name of Jack-of-the-feather. As he had been engaged in many fights with the English, and, though particularly exposed, had never received a wound, he was considered by the Indians to be invulnerable. The cause and manner of his fate were the following: "Only about fourteen days before the massacre, Jack-of-the-feather went to the house of one Morgan, where he saw many such articles exhibited as were calculated to excite admiration in such people. Jack, perhaps, had not the means to purchase, but it seems he was resolved some how or other to possess them. He therefore told Morgan that if he would take his commodities to Pamunkey, the Indians would give him a great price for them. Not in the least mistrusting the design of Nemattanow, the simple Englishman set out for Pamunkey, in company with this Indian. This was the last the English ever heard of Morgan. However strange it may seem, Jack's ill-directing fate sent him to the same place again; and, what was still more strange, he had the cap of the murdered Morgan upon his head. Morgan's servants asked him where their master was, who very deliberately answered that he was dead. This satisfied them that he had murdered him. They therefore seized him, in order to take him before a magistrate at Berkley; but he made a good deal of resistance, which caused one of the captors to shoot him down. The singular part of the tragedy is yet to be related. Though mortally wounded, Nemattanow was not killed outright, and his captors, which were two stout young men, got him into a boat to proceed to Mr. Thorp's, the magistrate. As they were going, the warrior became satisfied that he must die, and with the most extraordinary earnestness, besought that two things might be granted him. One was, that it should never be told to his countrymen that he was killed by a bullet; and the other, that he should be buried among the English, so that it should never be discovered that he had died, or was subject to death like other men. Such was the pride and vanity exhibited by an Indian at his death."[18]

From the preceding brief notices of the hostile bearing of the savage tribes towards the early Southern planters, it will be apparent that the colonization of that portion of America was no easy matter. The jealousy of the Indians towards their new neighbors was soon excited; nor did the conduct of the colonists serve to allay, but rather to increase it. The cruelty and vindictiveness of the Indians cannot be justified; but in their circumstances may be found, perhaps, some small apology. This was their country: they were proprietors of the soil. Here they lived: here were their altars: here their fathers' sepulchres; and they regarded them with the veneration and love of which they were capable. Who can blame them? Who censure those feelings--that patriotism--that love of liberty, which, when found among civilized nations, are highly extolled? Among the Indian chiefs, there were men of no small sagacity; who, foreseeing the consequences to themselves and people of the thrift and extension of the English--can it be deemed strange that their anticipations were most sad? or that they should adopt every expedient which seemed likely to avert calamities to them most fearful?

FOOTNOTE:

[18] Book of the Indians.

IV. PLYMOUTH COLONY AND THE INDIANS.

EARLY Rencontre at Plymouth--Friendly intercourse established by means of Samoset--Kindness of Squanto--Intercourse with Massasoit--Contemplated Massacre defeated--Jealousy of Caunbitant--Notice of Hobomok.

In the early period of the settlements of New England, the difficulties with the Indians were of less frequent occurrence, than those which took place in the Virginia colony. The providence of God had prepared the way for the pilgrims to enter upon their wilderness inheritance. The power of the Indians had been weakened by sickness, or their dispositions softened, perhaps, in some cases, by their adversities. There were instances, certainly, of singular friendship toward the whites, on the part of these children of nature, as was manifested in Samoset, Massasoit, and others. But the character, objects, and policy of the pilgrims will account, in part, for the comparative freedom from Indian hostility which marked the early era of their settlement in this land. As they came to enjoy and disseminate their religion, they had no motive to irritate or disturb the aboriginal inhabitants. Wealth was not sought from them, nor any greater portion of the soil than would suffice for their wants, at the same time leaving to the Indian behind the boundless wilderness, which alone he cared for. They would have reclaimed him from heathenism, and taught him religion, science, and the arts of civilised life, had he been pleased to learn them. This was attempted, in some instances, but the success, though a matter of gratitude, was not at any time very considerable. The policy of the fathers was to cultivate peace with all the Indian tribes; and during many years, so far as the settlement of the eastern shore was concerned, the object generally was effected. Still occasionally difficulties would occur, and at length, under a new set of chiefs, the notes of savage warfare rung loud and long over the hills and vales of New England. But we will here speak more particularly of the earliest colony, Plymouth.

The first encounter had with the Indians, preceded the disembarkation of the company of adventurers. It was a select party of some fifteen or sixteen, who had landed with a view to explore the country. Overtaken by night, they set their watch, hoping doubtless to pass the night unmolested; but about midnight they heard a hideous cry. The cry then ceased, and it was then supposed that it had been the noise only of wolves and foxes. About five o'clock, however, they again heard a sudden and strange noise, which they knew to be the same voices, though they varied their notes. One of the company being abroad, came running in, and cried, "They are men, Indians! Indians!" and with this announcement came a shower of arrows. The whites ran out with all speed to recover their arms. The cry of the enemy was terrific, especially when they perceived what the whites were about to do. Their arms being secured, the Indians were ready to make an assault. One, who appeared to be the leader of the latter, a stout athletic man, stood behind a tree within a musket-shot, and there let his arrows fly at the English. Three several shots were poured in upon him without touching him--at length, one seemed to take effect, as he bounded off, and his company with him, yelling most hideously. It is not known that any blood was shed in this encounter, though the probability is, that the chief was wounded. Of the arrows that were left on the field, several were picked up, and sent as a curiosity to friends in England. Some of them were ingeniously headed with brass, some with harts' horn, and some with the claws of eagles.

An intercourse of an agreeable character between the pilgrims and the natives soon commenced, by means of _Samoset_, whose manner of introducing himself to the settlement has been mentioned in another portion of this work. The hospitality with which he was treated, secured his friendship and confidence, and he communicated to the settlers, in answer to their inquiries, whatever information he possessed respecting the Indians and the country. He is described by an early historian as having been a tall, strait man, the hair of his head black, long behind, and short before, none at all on his face. He ate and drank freely of that which was offered him; and, although they wished his absence at night, yet he was unwilling to leave, and they could not do otherwise than keep and watch him. This visit of the kind Samoset was an augury of good to the colony. It seemed purely a providential event.

The visit continued only until the next morning, but was repeated in the course of a day or two. His return then brought to the acquaintance of the colony other Indians who accompanied him. They were some of Massasoit's men, whose object was to trade with the English. As Samoset was charged not to let any who came with him bring their arms, these, therefore, left their bows and arrows at a distance from the place. They were entertained in a fitting manner; they ate liberally of the English victuals, and appeared very friendly; "sang and danced after their manner like antics." They were dismissed as soon as it could be done conveniently, without effecting any trade. Samoset, either being sick, or feigning himself so, would not depart, and contrived to continue several days longer. In this visit, some stolen articles were returned by the Indians, through Samoset's influence.

At the next visit he made, he was accompanied by Squanto, as once before related. The latter was said to be the only native of Patuxet (the Indian name of Plymouth) living there at that period. His captivity and residence in England had prepared him, by understanding the English language, to render service to the colony. Squanto, it appears, was the only person that escaped the great sickness at Patuxet. The extent of its ravages, as near as can be judged, was from Narraganset bay to Kennebec, or, perhaps, Penobscot, and is supposed to have commenced about 1617, and its continuance between two and three years, as it was nearly abated in 1619. According to the account of the Indians, it was a terrific scene, the deaths occurring with such frequency, that the living were not able to bury the dead. In the language of an author of the time, "they died in heaps as they laid in their houses, and the living, that were able to shift for themselves, would runne away, and would let them dy, and let their carcasses ly above the ground without buriall. For in a place where many inhabited, there had been but one (referring to Squanto) left alive to tell what became of the rest." When the pilgrims arrived in this country, their bones were thick upon the ground in many places. Squanto, with another Indian and several Englishmen, was employed, on one occasion, to go in search of an English boy, who had been lost in the woods. Having been informed of some Indians that the boy was at Nauset, they proceeded in a vessel to that place, joined also by Iyanough, the sachem of Cummaquid, and two of his men. Aspinet, the chief at Nauset, being informed by Squanto that his English friends had come for the boy, he came with a great train, and brought the boy with him, one carrying him through the water. Not less than an hundred Indians appeared on this occasion, half of whom attending the boy to the boat, the rest standing aloof, with their bows and arrows, looking on. The child was delivered up in a formal manner, covered with beads, and Aspinet embraced the opportunity of making peace with the English, the latter giving him a knife, as also one to the kind Indian who first entertained the lost boy, and brought him to Nauset.

Squanto had shown his early attachment to the English, in his conduct towards Captain Dermer, who visited the country the year before the pilgrims arrived here. When the Indians would have killed him on some occasion, Squanto successfully pleaded in his behalf. They had in view the avenging of some murders, which a foreigner, an Englishman, had a while before inflicted on their people. These two Indians, Samoset and Squanto, remained with the English, instructing them how to live in their country. Squanto became an important personage in the Indian politics. He was in the main friendly to the English; but his devices to enhance himself in the eyes of his new friends, or to make himself great in the eyes of his countrymen, were not always wise, and were not, unfrequently, mischievous. In 1622 he forfeited his life by plotting to destroy that of Massasoit. On that occasion, the latter went to Plymouth, burning with rage against Squanto, but the governor succeeded in quieting him for that time. Soon after, he sent a messenger to entreat the governor's consent to his being put to death; but the latter would not be persuaded to yield to his request. Squanto denied all knowledge of the plot. The English, however, seemed well satisfied that Squanto had laid this shallow scheme to set them against Massasoit, thinking they would destroy him, by which means he expected to become chief sachem himself; and this seems the more probable, as Massasoit was, for some time, irreconcilable, because they withheld Squanto from him. When the English understood his object, they assured the Indians that they did not concur in the plot, and that they would do no injury to them, unless the Indians began with the whites. Squanto was sharply reproved by the governor, but he was so necessary to the welfare of the colony, in respect to its intercourse with the Indians, that he was retained there.

The following instance is related of his manœuvres to possess his countrymen with great fear of the English: He told them that the English kept the plague buried in one of their store-houses, and that they could send it at any time to any place, to destroy whatever persons or people they would, though they themselves stirred not out of doors. This piece of information was of course calculated to inspire them with great terror. Some sagacious Indians at length discovered the trick, by inquiring of the English respecting it.

Squanto died during an expedition or trading voyage, which was undertaken among the Indians of Cape Cod, to buy corn in a time of scarcity. He was pilot on this occasion. He was seized with sickness in the midst of the undertaking, his disorder being a fever, and he bleeding much at the nose, which the Indians reckon a fatal symptom, the disease soon overpowered him. He desired the governor would pray for him, that he might go to the Englishman's God. He bequeathed his effects to sundry of his English friends, as remembrances of his affection.