Chapter 26

THE FIRST INDIAN WARS

[1637]

Troubles between the Indians and the whites arose so early as 1636. John Oldham was murdered on Block Island by a party of Pequot Indians. Vane of Massachusetts sent Endicott to inflict punishment. The Pequots in turn attacked the fort at Saybrook, and in 1637 threatened Wethersfield. They were planning a union with the Narragansets for the destruction of the English, when Roger Williams informed the Massachusetts colony of their designs and, at the urgent request of the governor and council, hastened to the chief of the Narragansets and dissuaded him from entering into the alliance.

The moment was critical. Captain Mason with about ninety English and seventy Mohegans, under their sachem, Uncas (a sub chief, who with his district, Mohegan, had rebelled against the Pequot sachem, Sassacus), was sent from Hartford down the Connecticut River. Entering the Sound, he sailed past the mouth of the Thames and anchored in Narragansett Bay, at the foot of Tower Hill, near Point Judith. He knew that keen-eyed scouts from the Pequot stronghold on the west bank of the Mystic River, near Groton, had, as his three little ships skirted the shore, been watching him, to give warning of his approach. He therefore resolved to come upon the enemy from an unlooked-for quarter. This plan was directly contrary to his instructions, which required him to land at the mouth of the Thames and attack the fort from the west side. He hoped, marching westward across the country, to take the enemy by surprise on their unprotected rear, while the Indians, trusting in the strength of their fort, as it fronted the west, should believe themselves secure.

Thirteen men had been sent back to the Thames with the vessels. Two hundred Narragansets had joined the expedition, though their sachem, Miantonomoh, thought the English too weak to fight the dreaded Pequots. Mason's enterprise was admirably planned, and he was as fortunate as he was bold and skilful. He divided his men into two parties. One, led by Underhill, climbed the steep ascent on the south side of the Indian village; the other, directed by Mason himself, mounted the northern slope. The garrison was buried in slumber, made more profound by carousals the preceding night. One Indian was heard to cry out "Englishmen" before the volley of musketry from the attacking force told that the white enemy had come. Mason entered a wigwam and fought, as did the others, hand-to-hand with the now awakened and desperate foe. Coming out with a firebrand and exclaiming "We must burn them," he set fire to the wigwam. The flames were quickly carried through the fort by the northeast wind. Underhill from his side applied powder. So rapidly did the flames spread that the English had difficulty in making good their escape, while the Pequots who escaped the sword were doomed to perish by fire. In an hour's time from four hundred to six hundred had fallen, more than half of them women and children. Of the Englishmen two were killed and about twenty wounded. In this dreadful slaughter the Narragansets had little share, for they had shown such fear that Mason had said to Uncas, "Tell them not to fly, but stand at what distance they please and see whether Englishmen will now fight or not."

With the approach of day three hundred Pequots advanced from a second fort intending to fight, but they were struck with horror at the sight of their dead fellow-warriors. Keeping the enemy at bay, the English marched to the vessels, which had arrived at Pequot Harbor, and, placing the wounded on board, continued their march to Saybrook. The remnant of the Pequots sought to escape from the country, moving westward along the Sound. Captain Stoughton, sent with one hundred and twenty Massachusetts men, was guided by the Narragansets to a swamp in which a little band of those hostile savages had hidden. The men were slain, offering little resistance. The women and children were divided among the Indian allies or sold into slavery by the colonists of Massachusetts Bay.

Mason and Stoughton together sailed from Saybrook along the shore, while Uncas with his men tracked the fugitives by land. At Guilford a Pequot sachem was entrapped, shot, and his head thrust into the crotch of an oak-tree near the harbor, giving the place the name of Sachem's Head. Near the town of Fairfield a last stand was made by the hunted redskins, in a swamp, to which the English were guided by a renegade Pequot. The tribe with whom the Pequots had taken shelter, also the women and children, were allowed to give themselves up. The men were shot down or broke through and escaped. The wife of Mononotto fell into the hands of the English. This Indian squaw had once shown kindness to two captive girls, and by Winthrop's orders she was kindly treated in return. The Pequots, once so powerful, were well-nigh exterminated. Those taken prisoners were spared only to be held in bondage, Mononotto's wife with the rest. Some were absorbed by the Narragansets, others by the Mohegans, while the settlers of Connecticut, upon whom the war had fallen so heavily, came into possession of the Pequot land.

[l638]

For nearly forty years the New England colonies were not again molested, the merciless vigor with which they had fought making a lasting impression upon their blood-thirsty foes. The cruel slavery to which the surviving natives were subjected, the English justified by the example of the Jews in their treatment of the Canaanites.

[1642]

The Narraganset chief, Miantonomoh, had become the friend and ally of the English by a treaty ratified in 1636, mainly through the good offices of Roger Williams, In 1638, after the destruction of the Pequots, there was a new treaty, embracing Uncas with his bold Mohegans, and stipulating that any quarrel between Miantonomoh and Uncas should be referred to the English. In 1642 Miantonomoh was accused of plotting against the English, and summoned before the General Court at Boston. Though acquitted he vowed revenge upon Uncas as the instigator of the charge. His friendship for Roger Williams, as also for Samuel Gorton, the purchaser of Shawomet, or Warwick, R. I., which was claimed by Massachusetts, had perhaps created a prejudice against him. At any rate, when a quarrel arose between Uncas and Sequasson, Miantonomoh's friend and ally, while the latter naturally sided with Sequasson, the sympathies of the English were with Uncas, who had aided them against the Pequots. With the consent of Connecticut and Massachusetts Miantonomoh took the field against Uncas, who had attacked Sequasson. He was defeated and taken prisoner. Carried to Hartford he was held to await the decision of the Commissioners of the United Colonies at Boston. They would not release him, yet had no valid ground for putting him to death. The case was referred to five clergymen, and they voted for his execution. For this purpose the commissioners gave orders to turn the brave warrior over to Uncas, English witnesses to be present and see that no cruelty was perpetrated. The sentence was carried into effect near Norwich. Cutting a piece of flesh from the shoulder of his murdered enemy, Uncas ate it with savage relish, declaring it to be the sweetest meat he had ever tasted.

[1640-1643]

The Dutch, too, as we have to some extent seen already, felt the horrors of Indian warfare. Kieft, the Dutch director-general, a man cruel, avaricious, and obstinate, angered the red men by demanding tribute from them as their protector, while he refused them guns or ammunition. The savages replied that they had to their own cost shown kindness to the Dutch when in need of food, but would not pay tribute. Kieft attacked. Some of the Indians were killed and their crops destroyed. This roused their revengeful passions to the utmost. The Raritan savages visited the colony of De Vries, on Staten Island, with death and devastation. Reward was offered for the head of anyone of the murderers. An Indian never forgot an injury. The nephew of one of the natives who twenty years before had been wantonly killed went to sell furs at Fort Amsterdam, and while there revenged his uncle's murder by the slaughter of an unoffending colonist. Spite of warlike preparations by Kieft and his assembly in 1641-42, the tribe would not give up the culprit. The following year another settler was knifed by a drunken Indian. Wampum was indeed offered in atonement, while an indignant plea was urged by the savages against the liquor traffic, which demoralized their young men and rendered them dangerous alike to friend and foe. But remonstrance and blood-money could not satisfy Kieft. At Pavonia and at Corlaer's Hook [footnote: now in the New York City limits, just below Broadway Ferry, East River] the Dutch fell venomously upon the sleeping and unsuspecting enemy. Men, women, and children were slaughtered, none spared. In turn the tribes along the lower Hudson, to the number of eleven, united and desperately attacked the Dutch wherever found. Only near the walls of Fort Amsterdam was there safety. The governor appointed a day of fasting, which it seems was kept with effect. The sale of liquor to the red men was at last prohibited, and peace for a time secured.

Soon, however, the redskins along the Hudson were again up in arms. The noted Underhill, who with Mason had been the scourge of the Pequots, came to the fight with fifty Englishmen as allies of the Dutch. Not waiting to be attacked, the Indians laid waste the settlements, even threatening Fort Amsterdam itself. At a place now known as Pelham Neck, near New Rochelle, lived the famous but unfortunate Mrs. Hutchinson, a fugitive from the persecuting zeal of Massachusetts. Here the implacable savages butchered her and her family in cold blood. Her little granddaughter alone was spared, and led captive to a far-off wigwam prison. Only at Gravesend, on Long Island, was a successful stand made, and that by a woman, Lady Deborah Moody, another exile from religious persecution, who with forty stout-hearted men defended her plantation and compelled the savages to beat a retreat.

[1645]

The colony was in extremity. New Haven refused to aid, because, as a member of the New England confederacy, it could not act alone, and because it was not satisfied that the Dutch war was just. An appeal was made by Kieft's eight advisers to both the States-General and the West India Company in Holland. The sad condition of the colonists was fully set forth, and the responsibility directly ascribed to the mismanagement of Kieft. At the same time, undismayed by the gloomy outlook, the courage of the sturdy Dutchmen rose with the emergency. Small parties were sent out against the Connecticut savages in the vicinity of Stamford. Indian villages on Long Island were surprised and the natives put to the sword. In two instances at least the victors disgraced humanity by torturing the captured.

In these engagements Underhill was conspicuous and most energetic. Having made himself familiar with the position of the Indians near Stamford, he sailed from Manhattan with one hundred and fifty men, landed at Greenwich, and, marching all day, at midnight drew near the enemy. His approach was not wholly unannounced, for the moon was full. The fight was desperate and bloody. The tragedy that had made memorable the banks of the Mystic in the destruction of the Pequot fort was now almost equalled. After the example of his old comrade Mason, Underhill fired the village. By flame, shot, or sword more than five hundred human beings perished.

While New Netherland was awaiting some message of cheer from Holland, a company of Dutch soldiers came from Curacoa, but they did little to follow up the successes already gained. Again the Eight sent a memorial to the company, boldly condemning the conduct of the director and demanding his recall. Their remonstrances were at last heeded, and the removal of the unpopular governor resolved upon. In 1647 Kieft set sail for Holland, but the ship was wrecked, and he with nearly all on board was drowned.

It was high time for a change. In the two years, 1643-45, while sixteen hundred Indians had been slain, Manhattan had become nearly depopulated. In 1645 peace was concluded, not only with the smaller tribes in the vicinity, but also with the powerful Mohawks about Fort Orange, and finally with all the Indians belonging to the Five Nations or acknowledging their authority. A pleasing incident of this treaty was the promise of the Indians to restore the eight-year-old granddaughter of Mrs. Hutchinson, a promise which they faithfully performed in 1646. The great compact was made under the shadow of the Fort Amsterdam walls, and the universal joy was expressed by a day of thanksgiving.

[1650-1660]

An interval of peace for ten years was now enjoyed, when the killing of a squaw for stealing some peaches led to an attack by several hundred of the infuriated savages upon New Amsterdam. They were repulsed here, but crossing to the shore of New Jersey they laid waste the settlements there. Staten Island, too, was swept with fire and sword. One hundred people were slain, 150 more taken captive, 300 made homeless. Peace was again effected and maintained for three years, when fresh quarrels began. It was not until 1660 that a more general and lasting treaty was brought about, on which occasion a Mohawk and a Minqua chief gave pledges in behalf of the Indians, and acted as mediators between the contending parties.

PERIOD II.

ENGLISH AMERICA TILL THE END OF THE FRENCH AND INDIAN WAR

1660--1763