Part 3
And now I will speak somewhat of the savages in the country about—I mean the native Indians. The nearest that any dwell unto [Plymouth] is fourteen miles, and their town is called Manomet. Only without our pales dwells one Hobomok, his wives and his household (above ten persons), who is our friend and interpreter, and one whom we have found faithful and trusty. He I carry away with me to the southward. And now, likewise, in this bay wherein we live, in former time hath lived about 2000 Indians. Here is not one living now, nor not one living which belonged to this plantation before we came, so that the ground on which we are planted belongs to nobody.[76]
And now to speak of the king of the country, who is a great emperor among his people. Upon the occasion of the Governor’s marriage,[77] since I came, Massasoit was sent for to the wedding, where came with him his wife, the queen, although he hath five wives. With him came four other kings and about six score men with their bows and arrows—where, when they came to our town, we saluted them with the shooting off of many muskets and training our men. And so all the bows and arrows was brought into the Governor’s house, and he brought the Governor three or four bucks and a turkey. And so we had very good pastime in seeing them dance, which is in such manner, with such a noise that you would wonder. And at that time when we gave Massasoit his hat, coat, band and feather, I craved a boy of him for you, but he would not part with him; but I will bring you one hereafter.
And now to say somewhat of the great cheer we had at the Governor’s marriage. We had about twelve pasty venisons, besides others, pieces of roasted venison and other such good cheer in such quantity that I could wish you some of our share. For here we have the best grapes that ever you say[78]—and the biggest, and divers sorts of plums and nuts which our business will not suffer us to look for.
And now to speak somewhat of Massasoit’s stature. He is as proper a man as ever was seen in this country, and very courageous. He is very subtle for a savage, and he goes like the rest of his men, all naked but only a black wolf skin he wears upon his shoulder. And about the breadth of a span he wears beads about his middle. And these beads they make themselves, which they account as gold above silver before the beads we bring out of England.
Lastly, to speak a little in what peace and friendship we are with the savages, which peace we have had with Massasoit ever since our coming. And he never expressed his love more to us than of late; for in the Massachusetts there was a colony—I may rather say a company of idle persons, for they had no civil government among themselves, much less were they able to govern and rule Indians by them. And this plantation was begun about one year and one half since by one Mr. Weston,[79] who came this year to see his plantation. But by many notorious deeds among themselves, and also having in their necessity stolen corn from the Indians, the Indians began to condemn them and would have killed all the English, but they feared that when the English of Patuxet did hear what they had done, then they would set upon the squaw sachem in the Massachusetts and so kill all the Indians in the Massachusetts. Whereupon they determined another resolution: to cut the English at Patuxet, whom they stand in fear of now, and the English at Massachusetts both at one time. But in the mean time, the great Massasoit sent to Patuxet for some physic, because he was fallen very sick, and so, by God’s help, he was cured. And upon his recovery, he made known the plot of the Indians of Massachusetts against us, and told us that if we would not go fight with them, he would. So at the return of our surgeon from Massasoit, came a messenger from Mr. Weston’s plantation at Massachusetts, telling us that there was a plot against us by the Indians of Massachusetts. Whereupon the Governor, Mr. William Bradford (well worthy the place), sent Captain Standish with some six or seven others to the Massachusetts to bring away the head of him that made the broil. And so, by God’s goodness, he killed our chief enemy and five or six others without any hurt to our part, and brought away the head of the chiefest of them.[80] And [it] is set on the top of our fort, and instead of an ancient,[81] we have a piece of linen cloth dyed in the same Indian’s blood, which was hung out upon the fort when Massasoit was here. And now the Indians are most of them fled from us, but they now seek to us to make peace. But we are informed by Hobomok that eight shallops of Indians, well provided, are coming this way. They say themselves that they come to fight with other Indians that have killed a friend of theirs, but if they come at us to offer any violence, I doubt they will never carry their shallops back again—it may be, not with their lives. And these Indians, we hear, have muskets and fowling pieces, with powder and shot, which they have bought of the Frenchmen in Canada and of the Englishmen at the Isle of Monhegan; but that trade is already stopped by the King’s proclamations concerning the same trade.
And now, loving brother, I have little else to write of unto you—but only one thing I thank you kindly for, and that was for the last letter you sent me in England, wherein you desire [me] to hold fast to the truth and likewise to be diligent in my place. Of both which make no doubt—no! be persuaded that I will rather die a thousand deaths than once to shame God or my country. And now, seeing that I am entered into this place, doubt not but that I will always increase in knowledge. And indeed, when I undertook this voyage at first, I always held the art of navigation to be most hard and difficult, but now, through some practice and reading, I have attained to that I hope never to forget. And I hope by that time I see old England to be able to conduct a ship myself, safe into any harbor in New England. But God disposeth of all things. And truly, I never lived better to my content nor among those who can more respect me as the Company in old England and here[82] likewise do, who think nothing too good for me. I praise God, I have my health ’till now that I wrote this letter—but I mended apace.
And now, loving brother, I must make an end, although I think no pains sufficient to express my love unto you. I doubt not but you will show yourself a friend to me in taking care for that little stock I have. I am desirous it should increase—and in your hands, if you think it profitable to you. I know you will deal the more providently for me, because of divers reasons well known to yourself. I pray let that same £100 be taken of my Mr. Hawes or his heirs when it is due (and that will be about March, 1624), and if you and my brother Hawtry[83] think good, take it into your own hands. I have wrote to my brother Hawtry to buy me the books of English voyages, which will do me great good. I pray look that they be bought me, and send by this messenger that is come from New England and hath lived there three years. And he comes away about December from London, that he may come with the fishermen, to be here in February. I pray let those books be of the same voyages that is lately put forth by Mr. Purchas, minister about Ludgate.[84]
Thus much I have thought good to let you understand concerning the estate of myself and New England, and now I will take my leave of you, desiring the God of hosts to guide you and yours in your going out and coming, so that all your labors may prosper under your hands, and that your life in this world of misery may be such a life that may prepare you to a better in the world to come.
And thus, my kindest love and best affections being remembered to you, desiring you to accept of this mite (being compared to my mind). Likewise, as I am bound to respect, so let my love be remembered to my sister your wife, and to my worthy friend, Sir John Leventhorpe, and to his good lady, and all the rest of that noble house, as to my Lady Fowle and Sir John Fowle, my brother Thomas, and my sister Mary.[85] And I pray merrily tell her it will be no tarrying for me because I know not when I shall come into England. But I pray likewise tell [her] that I could here give her much land if she will come and live among this wild scene of Indians. I hope this will make her smile. And now, I pray let my love be remembered to my aunt Wolley, hoping that she will have me in her mind, although not in her eye; I mean I hope she will remember me at her death, which must be one day.[86] Pray remember me likewise to Mr. Denn and his wife and old goodwife Stracy, and to my worthy Adventurer Henry Stracy, who, if he claims his money, let him have it, I pray you, for I see it will come in with profit. Pray likewise remember my love to Mr. Bland and William Watson, and pray tell them thus much: that because a ship could not be got when I had cattle in my hands, and likewise because I could get nobody to join with me, I put that money into the common stock; and it shall be answered in that, which, if they be not contented, I will repay again. The like, I pray, do to goodman Wells. Remember me to him and tell him I find great need of his cousin, the potter.[87] I pray, sir, let them read this letter—either the same or a copy of the same—and so, likewise, I pray let my noble friend, Sir John Leventhorpe; although I have wrote to him, yet I refer him to particulars in your letters.
And so I take my leave of you; but I pray remember me to my father Adee and mother Adee, and to all the rest of my friends to whom I am by any way tied—as to Seth Haggar and Edward Skoles, whose so long continuance and good service in your house have caused me to speak well of them.
And thus I end, desiring the Lord to direct you in all your ways, words and actions, and to guide you by his Holy Spirit and so to enable you, that in what you have been wanting to glorify his name in this world among men, your heart may be more and more touched with the reverence of so great a God, and to labor more and more to glorify him here, that so you may be glorified by him in the world to come, where one day, if I see you not in this world, I make no doubt but to meet you, which God, for Christ Jesus’ sake grant unto us. And so I bid you, Farewell! Farewell in the Lord; and the God of heaven, earth, seas and all things be with you and protect you in your going forth and coming in. And so, being guided and directed by God’s holy angels, you may not be ashamed to show yourself before God and the Lord Christ at that great day of account when all things shall be made known. And so, even from my heart and soul, I take my leave of you and the rest of my other friends who are mentioned in my other letters. _Vale!_
I shall be glad to hear from you. In the beginning of December, pray send your letters to Mr. Sherley’s in Crooked Lane.[88] Divers matters I could write, but only this let me tell you: that I would entreat you to stir up a few friends to venture four or five hundred pounds with me when I come myself. For I then intend to make a voyage to fish, which I make no doubt but I can get two of one in eight months. This thing I thought good to impart to you, and do entreat you to provide such a course against I come home, if you can.
Forth, this is a most ordinary voyage undertaken.
Thus I rest,
your most loving brother,
EMMANUEL ALTHAM.
I have sent my sister Altham six ears of Indian corn and beans to sow in her garden. Also, I have sent you a tobacco pipe which I had of the Indians.
Emmanuel Altham to Sir Edward Altham
March, 1623/1624.
Loving and kind brother,
My love being remembered to you and the rest of my loving friends, these few words being caused by the fitness of a messenger, they are to let you understand that I am in good health and so have been a long time, as I hope also of you.
I have been upon a voyage to the southward of New England, where we have discovered many brave places where never any Christians were before. And this part of the country—I mean to the southward of New England—is far better land and more commodious places for situation than are in any part of this country besides.[89] For there is not only good ground in abundance, with excellent good timber, but here are great store of furs which now the Dutchmen get because our Company of New England have not sent by us so good trucking stuff as they should have, and so have disappointed themselves much. Insomuch that whereas we thought for to have got with our pinnace three or four hundred pounds worth of skins, we have now got small store, to my exceeding great grief.
But this is not all they have hindered themselves of, for in their plantation is the better half women and children, and divers of the rest are very unwilling, so that only the burden of the plantation lieth on the shoulders of some few who are both honest, wise and careful.[90] And if it were not for them few, the plantation would fall, and come to nothing—yea, long before this time; and it is so much the more likely because that now by a sudden fire one half of the plantation was burnt down by fire, upon the 5th of November last, wherein was burnt and spoiled the goods of all such that came this last time into New England and are now by reason of this loss forced to come again for England.[91]
But, although it hath pleased God to lay his heavy hand on these poor people and plantation, yet the fault is neither in some of the planters here nor in the unfruitfulness of the country. For I assure thus much: that a better country was never seen nor heard of, for here are a multitude of God’s blessings; but they are not to be enjoyed by idle people that think to have all things at wishing for. But if men will take pains at first, they may live afterwards bravely. Indeed, in this country is no clothes to be had, nor divers other things which a man may make a good shift without. Yea, here is all things to be had to a contented mind; and it is not for men to live here that think of their former prosperity and company—friends and kinsfolk, but it is good for such that resolve to forget and leave all these things for a time, and do labor as they think to live by it hereafter.
Neither can I speak but well of the profits that are to be raised here by fishing—indeed, it is such that you would admire. But the best actions whatsoever, being badly undertaken, come to little or no effect. So this plantation, being undertaken by men unexperienced in plantations, is like to feel the smart of it. And also, how is it possible that those men that never saw fishing in their lives should raise profit by fishing? And if they had known it never so well, yet if they had not [been] able of body, they could not perform any matter; for how shall women and children do men’s labors? The reason, in conclusion: this I say to you, that unless some other means be taken, which to do is impossible, no means of profit can be raised to the Adventurers for their money again.
If any man thinks to adventure money to have land, this I tell thee: that if they will give me a very small matter, I will make sure to them 10,000 acres of as good land as any in England. And this I am sure of. But although at this time I do fully declare to you the estate of this plantation, yet I pray conceal it ’till others have reported the like. And although these matters may seem strange to you, in regard of the ample relations that have been made in the praise of this plantation, yet take it no otherwise than thus: that it hath been the Company’s fault in England, who have sent over so many helpless people that the Governor here (who is a wise gentleman) will not entertain some of them. And secondly, their fault hath been that the planters here have not had good trucking stuff to please the Indians. Indeed, no question, if we had commodity, we might have skins great store. And now I hope this is apparent to you, that the fault is not in the country, which is so good that if my ability would reach, I would settle some plantation—and yet, I hope I would not over-reach myself with hopes—but until that time I do resolve, if I can conveniently, to come hither a-fishing yearly, if God bless me homewards. And I do not doubt but to do the like that other men do, for other ships that come the last year (and this year) have got more fish than their ships could carry; and so carry it for Spain and sell it for great rates. But of this hereafter, if God bless me now home.
Indeed, the Lord hath preserved me miraculously. For, coming to anchor by a great many sands, when it was little wind, it proved at last great store of wind and a great storm, insomuch that our anchors came home and almost laid us upon the sands. And the storm increasing, we were fain to cut our mainmast overboard, and had much ado to save our lives in our ship. But thanks be to God, we were saved and our ship, and are at this time in a good harbor at Patuxet,[92] blessed be God! And here in this harbor we are to stay this winter, for this country is subject to wonderful storms in the winter time; and here it is very cold weather. Yet we have very poor fare here all this winter, being cold water[93] and beef, sometimes, because we have but little of it; and now and then we have good store of fowl. But for all these crosses and disheartenings, I was never better nor better contented in my life, which I thank God for, for I know it cannot be mended with wishes and wailings.
Thus much have I declared unto you concerning our plantation, entreating you to keep it close from the Company and not to think the worse of this country, in which nature hath almost emptied herself to replenish it. And although our beginning is bad, yet I hope that the fishing voyage I am now bound out upon will bring somewhat to the Adventurers, and also enable my own judgment to undertake the like for myself, if God prosper me now. Indeed, if the making of salt here did not require a greater charge of money from the Company, it would do well; but this I say: that if salt be made here to reap store of profit, it requires a greater charge than hath been laid out already, which I think the Company will not disburse without seeing more hopes of profit.
Thus entreating you not to expect me before I come, for when it will be I know not—indeed, I do not desire to come before I have made what profit I can to the Adventurers; which, if it may not be, I have done my utmost and I hope they will accept of it. In the mean time, my love and well wishes being remembered to you, to my sister and to all your children, especially to my three cousins, James, John and Leventhorpe.[94] I pray likewise remember my service to my most worthy and kind friend, Sir John Leventhorpe and his Lady, to both whose services I acknowledge myself bound many ways. Likewise, pray remember me to Sir John Fowle and his Lady, and to my brother Thomas, and also to my sister Mary, and to all the rest of that worthy stock. Also, pray have my love remembered to Mr. Denn and his wife, and also to Henry Stracy, goodman Watson, and Mr. Bland and Thomas Wells.[95] And pray tell them that if they mislike their adventure I have put into the Company for them, I will return them their monies again; but I pray do you agree with them as you will. I pray, good sir, be as a loving brother to me (which I doubt not of) in increasing my little stock which, if God take me away, may be the better for yours. But whether I live or die, you shall never be the worse for it. Thus, loving, loving brother, have I wrote in haste, entreating you to hold me excused if I have done anything that might not seem worthy of your love. Thus taking my leave of you, of the rest of my good friends, I bid you farewell, entreating the Lord to be with you and to guide you in your ways; that so, you having dealt honestly and conscionably here, serving the Lord in truth and uprightness of heart, you may for the same be rewarded in the kingdom of heaven, where all tears and sorrows shall pass away; which God, for Christ’s sake, grant unto us. Even so, Farewell, loving brother; and, if it be God’s will, to send us once again to meet.
Your ever-loving and kind brother, till death,
EMMANUEL ALTHAM.
I pray remember my love to Edward Skoles and Seth Haggar.[96] And I pray let Edward Skoles know I would have wrote to him, but my leisure would not give me leave.
Emmanuel Altham to James Sherley
May, 1624.
Most worthy friends,
Your loving letters I have both received much about one time (being about the middle of April, 1624), wherein I conceive both your great love and care over me, which for my part shall never be rewarded with ingratitude. It pleased God that your ship called the _Charity_ arrived at Plymouth in New England about five weeks after her departure from the English coast, but the certain day I know not, because I was at that time sixty leagues from thence at Pemaquid a-fishing. But after she had delivered her passengers and goods, she went immediately to Cape Ann, where, in all likelihoods, they are like to make a good voyage, if God withhold it not. For in all possibility, the settled course which yourself and the Company have taken will bring in much profit—for indeed, it is the only means above all other. Yet notwithstanding, the trade of furs may help, but that is not so sure a thing, by reason of divers (as I may call them) interlopers.