Part 14

Here they staid over night, and learning that the Pequods held two forts, one at Mystic river and the other about three miles west of that, they resolved, contrary to their original plan of attacking both together, to make a united attack on the Mystic fort, and accordingly commenced their march. After a march of twelve miles, through forests and over hills and morasses, Mason reached the Pawcatuck. The day was very hot, and the men, through the great heat and a scarcity of provisions, began to faint. Here he halted for some time, and refreshed the troops. In the meanwhile, the Indians, who had previously boasted how they would fight, when they learned that the forts were to be actually attacked, and the dreaded Sassacus to be met, were overcome by their fears, and many of them returned home to Narraganset. But the intrepid Mason, resolving to advance, despatched a faithful Indian to reconnoitre the fort, who soon returned with information that the Pequods were unapprised of their danger, and appeared to be resting in entire security. The march was immediately rëcommenced towards Mystic river, and on the night of the 26th, the whole body encamped about three miles from the fort.

"The important crisis was now come when the very existence of Connecticut, under Providence, was to be determined by the sword in a single action, by the good conduct of less than eighty men." They proved themselves, as the event shows, worthy of the occasion, and properly conscious of the interest at stake. To God they looked for aid and courage, at an hour when the decision was to be made, whether all that they held dear in life should be secured, or wrenched from them for ever.

Two hours before day, the troops were in motion for the assault. At this juncture, Mason's Indians entirely lost their resolution, and began to fall back. The captain bid them not to fly, but to surround the fort at any distance they pleased, and there remain witnesses of the courage of the English. Without delay, the fort was approached on two opposite sides, the Pequods having just before been aroused from sleep by the cry of one of their number, "Owanux, Owanux!"--Englishmen, Englishmen! He had, at that instant, been awakened by the barking of a dog. While the Pequods were rallying, Mason's troops advanced, and poured in a fire through the openings of the palisades, and wheeling off to a side barricaded only with brush, rushed into the fort, sword in hand. Notwithstanding the suddenness of the attack, and their great confusion, the enemy made a desperate resistance. Concealing themselves in and behind their wigwams, they maintained their ground stoutly against the English, who, advancing in different directions, cut down every Indian they met. But the victory was not certain--it had not been achieved. Mason felt it to be an awful moment. Happily it occurred to him to burn the Indian wigwams. The shout was immediately uttered, "We must burn them!" It was done. In a few moments the mats, with which their dwellings were covered, were in a blaze, and the flames spread in every direction. As the fire increased, the English retired without the fort, and environed it on every side. The Indians now recovering courage, formed another circle exterior to that of the English.

The amazed Pequods, driven from their covert by fire, climbed the palisades, and presenting themselves in full view, more than one hundred were shot down. Others, sallying forth from their burning cells, were shot, or cut in pieces with the sword. In the mean time, many perished in the flames within the fort. The battle, in this locality, continued about an hour, and the scene of terror and blood is hardly to be described. Seventy wigwams were consumed, and between five and six hundred of the enemy, of all descriptions, strewed the ground, or were involved in the burning pile. This victory was achieved with the loss only of two men killed and twenty wounded.

In the course of the attack, in the interior of the fort, Captain Mason's life was in immediate danger. As he was entering a wigwam to procure a firebrand, a Pequod, perceiving him, drew his arrow to the head, with a view to pierce the captain's body. At this critical moment, a resolute sergeant entering in, rescued his commander from imminent peril by cutting the bow-string with his cutlass.

Although the result of the engagement was the complete overthrow of the Pequod camp, yet the situation of the Connecticut army was extremely dangerous and distressing. Two of their troops were killed, and at least one-fourth wounded; the remainder were faint with fatigue and want of food; they were in the midst of an enemy's country, many miles from their vessels, and their ammunition was nearly expended. The principal fortress of their enemy was but three miles distant, where there was a fresh army, which they knew would be filled with rage, on learning the fate of their comrades. In this perilous condition, while they were consulting on the course to be pursued, their vessels, as if guided by the visible hand of Providence, appeared in sight, steering with a fair wind into the harbor. The little band, however, were not permitted to reach Pequod harbor without additional fighting. For no sooner had the vessels been discovered, than three hundred Indians came from the other fort, and were disposed to attack Captain Mason's party. He, however, so disposed of his few available men, assisted by the Indians with him, who carried the wounded English, that the Pequods were prevented from coming so near as to do any mischief. But the balls of the English muskets took effect on several of their number; and though, when the enemy came in sight of the demolished fort, they raved, and tore their hair from their heads, and rushed forward with the utmost fury to demolish the English, they were taught to repent their rashness. Finding all attempts in vain, to break in upon the little army, they left the victors to pursue the remainder of their way to Pequod harbor unmolested. They entered it with their colors flying, and were received on board the vessels with every demonstration of joy and gratitude.

The troops employed on this expedition, reached their homes in about three weeks from the time they embarked at Hartford. They were received with the greatest exultation. Benisons were poured forth on them from all lips. But to God, especially, as the helper of his people in their fearful trial, did the anthem of praise ascend from the domestic altar and the solemn assembly.

The Pequods, on the departure of Captain Mason, burned their wigwams, destroyed their principal fort, and were with difficulty restrained from putting their own chief, Sassacus, to death, as they looked upon him as the author of their calamity. They scattered themselves throughout the country, Sassacus, Mononotto, and seventy or eighty of their chief counsellors and warriors, taking their route over Hudson river. In the mean time, Massachusetts, hearing of the success of Mason, despatched a body of one hundred and twenty men under Captain Stoughton, to follow up the victory. Arriving in the enemy's country, the Massachusetts army, finding a body of that tribe in a swamp, made an assault upon them, with the aid of the Narragansets. Some twenty-eight were killed and a larger number taken prisoners.

The court at Connecticut ordered that forty men should be raised forthwith, for the further prosecution of the war, under the same commander. These troops formed a junction with the party under command of Stoughton at Pequod, and the conclusion was immediately to march in pursuit of Sassacus. They proceeded on their way as far as Quinnipiac (New Haven), where, after staying several days, they received intelligence that the enemy was at a considerable distance, in a great swamp to the westward. Here the Indians were met, and an engagement took place, under circumstances of great difficulty to the English, many of whom were nearly mired, but it was nevertheless attended with success. The fighting was of a most desperate character, the assailants finding it nearly impossible to master or dislodge the foe. Under the cover of a fog, after having been watched through the night, Sassacus and sixty or seventy of his bravest warriors broke through the English ranks, and escaped. About twenty Indians were killed, and one hundred and eighty were taken prisoners. The Pequods, who remained in the territory, amounting to some two hundred, besides women and children, were at length divided among the Narragansets and Mohegans, and the nation became extinct.

The character of this war, from the boldness and vigor with which it had been prosecuted, seemed to belong to the age of romance. It is replete with thrilling incident and daring adventure. Yet the sober, religious spirit and convictions of duty, which accompanied the pilgrims to battle, turn its chivalrous aspect into the features of stern reality and unavoidable necessity. It involved the fate of an infant republic and the interests of posterity. The conquest of the Pequods, while it was so fatal to one party, was productive of the most happy consequences to the other. It struck the Indians throughout New England with such a salutary terror, that they were contented to remain at peace nearly forty years.

VII. PHILIP'S WAR.

CAUSES of Philip's War--Character of Philip--General spirit of hostility among the Indians--Outbreak at Swansey--Expedition under General Savage--Expedition under Captain Church--Perilous situation of this latter party--Timely arrival of Captain Hutchinson--Second expedition of Captain Church--Critical situation of Philip--Effects his escape--Annoys the back settlements of Massachusetts--Treachery of the Nipmucks--Attack on Brookfield--Bloody affair at Muddy Brook--Attack on Springfield--Attack on Hatfield--Outrages at Northampton--Large force raised by Massachusetts, Plymouth, and Connecticut, against the Narragansets--Philip's fortress at Kingston, Rhode Island--Destruction of it--Lancaster destroyed--Other towns burned--Fatal affair at Pawtuxet river, Rhode Island--Stratagem of Cape Cod Indians--Attacks on Rehoboth, Chelmsford, Sudbury, &c.--Expedition of Connecticut troops--Conanchet captured--Long Meadow attacked--Hadley--Fortunes of Philip on the wane--Successful expedition against the Indians at Connecticut river falls--Attack on Hatfield--On Hadley--Remarkable interposition of a stranger at Hadley, supposed to be Goffe--Decline of Philip's power--Pursued by Captain Church--Death of Philip--Disastrous effects of the war--Philip's warriors--Annawon--Reflections.

To communities and nations, crises arrive, in which, through danger and sufferings, they are either overcome and extirpated, or spring forward to an improved condition after the first hurtful effect of the trial is passed away. The war with Philip constituted such a crisis to the New England colonies. Their danger was imminent--their sufferings were fearful, and the immediate consequences were lamentation, and weakness, and indebtedness. But their recuperative energies soon rëappeared, and a wide door thus became open to extended settlement and population.

The causes of the war lay partly in the condition of the colonies, and partly in the character of Philip. The English settlements were extending far into the wilderness, the home of the Indian, and were rapidly increasing in strength. The natives viewed them as intruders, and considered the probability that, at no distant day, they would be dispossessed of the heritage of their fathers. They were jealous of the designs of the English, and impatient under the encroachments already made. They viewed themselves as the proper lords of the forest, and they now saw that their hunting grounds were abridged, and the wild animals on which they depended for subsistence, were disappearing, as the white man felled the trees, and cultivated the soil, and reared his dwellings.

In view of this progress of the whites, nothing seemed to remain to the native savage but to be forced from his loved haunts, and to lose his cherished possessions, or to arouse, and by a desperate effort of strength and valor to regain all that he once owned.

The individual among the Indians whose foresight most clearly discerned the state of things, and whose spirit was equal to the emergency of attempting to resist it, was _Pometacom._ He was styled _Philip_ by the English, a nickname given him on account of his ambitious and haughty temper, and by this name he is chiefly known in history. He was the sachem of the Wampanoags, residing at Mount Hope, a younger son of the famous Massasoit, the friend of the whites.

Philip had not spared any pains for a long time to effect a conspiracy, and to unite the Indians in a general war against the colonists; but it happened that before his plan was matured, his intentions, and those of the Indians generally, were revealed to the English. The Indian who betrayed him was Sausaman, one of Eliot's converts. For this he was murdered by Philip's men; three of whom were seized, tried, and executed. This was the signal for blood. The first attack of the Indians was upon Swansey, several of whose inhabitants were killed.

Philip soon after suddenly left his place of residence and his territory to the English. The occasion of his precipitate retreat, was the following: Additional assistance being needed, the authorities of Boston sent out Major General Savage from that place, with sixty horse and as many foot. They scoured the country on the march to Mount Hope, where Philip and his wife were supposed to be at that time. They came into his neighborhood unawares, so that he was forced to rise from dinner, and he and all with him fled farther up into the country. They pursued him as far as they could go for swamps; and killed fifteen or sixteen in that expedition.

At the solicitation of Benjamin Church, a company of thirty-six men were put under him and Captain Fuller, who on the 8th of July marched down into Pocasset Neck. This force, small as it was, afterwards divided--Church taking nineteen men, and Fuller the remaining seventeen. The party under Church proceeded into a point of land called Punkateeset, now the southerly extremity of Tiverton, where they were attacked by a body of three hundred Indians. After a few moments' fight, the English retreated to the sea-shore, and thus saved themselves from destruction; for Church perceived that it was the intention of the Indians to surround them. They could expect little more than to perish, but they knew they were in a situation to sell their lives at the dearest rate. Thus hemmed in, Church had a double duty to perform--that of preserving the spirit of his followers, several of whom viewed their situation as desperate, and erecting piles of stone to defend them.

As boats had been appointed to attend upon the English in this expedition, the heroic party looked for relief from this quarter; but though the boats appeared, they were kept off by the fire of the Indians, and Church, in a moment of vexation, bid them be gone. The Indians, now encouraged, fired thicker and faster than before. The situation of the English was now most forlorn, although as yet, providentially, not one of them had been wounded. Night was coming on, their ammunition nearly spent, and the Indians had possessed themselves of a stone house that overlooked them; but, just in season to save them, a sloop was discovered bearing down towards the shore. It was commanded by a resolute man, Captain Golding, who effected the embarkation of the company, taking only two at a time in a canoe. During all this time, the Indians plied their fire-arms; and Church, who was the last to embark, narrowly escaped the balls of the enemy, one grazing the hair of his head, and another lodging in a stake, which happened to stand just before the centre of his breast. The band under Captain Fuller met with a similar fortune, but escaped by getting possession of an old house, close upon the water's edge, and were early taken off by boats. He had two of his party wounded.

Church soon after joined a body of English forces, and again penetrated Pocasset, and renewed his skirmishes with the enemy. The main body of the English, not long after, arrived at the place; on which, Philip retired into the recesses of a large swamp. Here his situation, for a time, was exceedingly critical; but at length he contrived to elude his besiegers; and, effecting his escape, fled to the Nipmucks, by whom he was readily received.

Soon after the war began, an effort had been made by the governor of Massachusetts to dissuade the Nipmucks from espousing the cause of Philip. But at the time, not agreeing among themselves, they would only consent to meet the English commissioners at a place three miles from Brookfield on a specified day. The English authorities deputed Captains Hutchinson and Wheeler to proceed to the appointed place. They took with them twenty mounted men, and three Christian Indians as guides and interpreters. On reaching the place agreed upon, no Indians were to be seen; upon this, the party proceeded still further; when, on reaching a narrow defile, they were suddenly attacked. Eight men were killed outright, and three mortally wounded; among the latter, was Captain Hutchinson. With the above loss, a retreat was effected; and, under the guidance of the three Christian Indians, the remnant made their way to Brookfield.

They were, however, immediately followed by the Indian foe. Luckily, there was barely time to alarm the inhabitants, who, to the number of seventy or eighty, flocked into a garrison-house. It was slightly fortified about the exterior side, by a few logs hastily thrown up, and in the interior by a few feather beds suspended to deaden the force of the bullets. The house was soon surrounded by the enemy, and shot poured upon it in all directions. But the fire of the besieged kept the Indians from a very near approach. By persevering exertions, the English were enabled to maintain themselves, until a force under Major Willard came to their relief. He was in the vicinity of Lancaster with forty-eight dragoons, when he learned the critical condition of Brookfield. With a forced march of thirty miles, he reached the place the following night.

At the very time Major Willard arrived at Brookfield, the Indians were contriving some machinery to set the garrison on fire. They first endeavored to effect their purpose by fire-arrows, and rags dipped in brimstone tied to long poles spliced together. But this method was without effect, while it exposed them to the deadly fire of those within the building. They next filled a cart with hemp, flax, and other combustible materials; and this, after they set it on fire, they thrust backward with their long poles. But no sooner had the flame began to take effect, than it was extinguished by an unexpected shower of rain.

Major Willard soon left the region of Brookfield, and marched the principal part of his forces to Hadley, for the protection of the settlements in that quarter. When he had completed his business, he returned to Boston, leaving Lathrop and Beers at Hadley. A considerable number of christianized Indians, belonging to the neighborhood of Hadley, occupied a small fort about a mile above Hatfield. On the occurrence of the difficulties in that region, these, as all other Indians, were watched and suspected of conniving with Philip. To put their fidelity to a test, Captains Lathrop and Beers, with a force of one hundred and eighty men, ordered these Indians to surrender their arms. They hesitated to do so then, but promised a speedy compliance. Yet, on the following night, August 25th, they left their fort, and fled up the river towards Deerfield to join Philip. The English captains commenced a pursuit early the next morning, and came up with them at a swamp, opposite to the present town of Sunderland, where a warm contest ensued. The Indians fought bravely, but were finally routed, with a loss of twenty-six of their number. The whites lost ten men. The Indians, who escaped, joined Philip's forces, and Lathrop and Beers returned to their station in Hadley.

Near the middle of September, Captain Lathrop was sent from Hadley, with eighty-eight men, to bring away some corn, grain, and other valuable articles from Deerfield. It was at that very time that the company under Captain Mosely, then quartered at Deerfield, intended to pursue the enemy. But upon the 10th of the month, "that most fatal day, the saddest that ever befel New England," Lathrop's company was attacked by the Indians, who had selected a place very advantageous to their purpose, knowing that the English with their teams would pass the road at the spot. The place was at the village now called Muddy Brook, in the southerly part of Deerfield, where the road crossed a small stream (as it now does), bordered by a narrow morass. Here the Indians, in great force, had planted themselves in ambuscade; and no sooner had Lathrop arrived at the spot, than the Indians poured a heavy and destructive fire upon the columns, and then rushed furiously to close engagement. The English ranks were broken, and the scattered troops were every where attacked. Those who survived, after the first onset, met the foe individually, and endeavored to sell their lives as dearly as possible. Seeking the covert of a tree, each one selected an object of attack, and the awful conflict now became a trial of skill in sharp shooting, on the issues of which life or death was suspended. But the overwhelming superiority of the Indians, as to numbers, left no room for hope on the part of the English. They were cut down every instant from behind their retreats, until nearly the whole number were destroyed. The dead, the dying, the wounded, strewed the ground in every direction. Out of nearly one hundred, including the teamsters, only seven or eight escaped from the bloody spot. The wounded were indiscriminately massacred. This company consisted of choice young men, "the very flower of Essex county, none of whom were ashamed to speak with the enemy in the gate." Eighteen of the men belonged to Deerfield.

Captain Mosely, being only four or five miles distant, heard the sound of musketry, and reasonably concluded what was the cause of the report. By a rapid march for the relief of Lathrop, he arrived at the close of the struggle, when he found the Indians stripping and mangling the dead. At once he rushed on in compact order, and broke through the enemy, charging back and forth, and cutting down all within range of his shot. After several hours of gallant fighting, he compelled the Indians to flee into the more distant parts of the forest. His loss amounted to two killed and eleven wounded.