CHAPTER XXVI.
"Day wanes; 'tis autumn's eventide again;
And, sinking on the blue hill's breast, the sun
Spreads the large bounty of his level blaze,
Lengthening the shades of mountains and tall trees,
And throwing blacker shadows o'er the sheet
Of the dark stream, in whose unruffled tide
Waver the bank-shrub and the graceful elm,
As the gray branches and their trembling leaves
Catch the soft whispers of the evening air."
George Lunt.
T was in the afternoon of a warm, bright day in October, that I left Boston for Norwich and New London, upon the Thames, in Connecticut, where I purposed to pass two or three days in visiting the interesting localities in their respective neighborhoods. I journeyed upon the great Western rail-way from Boston to Worcester, forty-four miles westward, where the Norwich road branches off in the direction of Long Island Sound, and courses down the beautiful valleys of the French and Quinebaug Rivers. Every rood of the way is agreeably diversified. Hill and mountain, lake and streamlet, farm-house and village, charmed the eye with a kaleidoscope variety as our train thundered over the road at the rate of thirty miles an hour. Yet memory can fix upon only a few prominent points, and these appear to make the sum of all which the eye gazed upon. Thus I remember the sweet Lake Cochituate, whose clear waters now bless the city of Boston with limpid streams. I remember it stretching away north from the rail-way, pierced with many green headlands, and rippled by the wings of waterfowl. Thus, too, I remember the beautiful little Mashapaug, * lying in a bowl of the wooded hills of Killingly, sparkling in the slant rays of the evening sun as we swept by and became lost among the rugged heights and dark forests at twilight.
The Quinebaug is dotted with pretty factory villages at almost every rift in its course; and, as we halted a moment at the stations, the serried lights of the mills, and the merry laughter of troops of girls just released from labor, joyous as children bursting from school, agreeably broke the monotony of an evening ride in a close car. We reached the Shetucket Valley at about half past seven o'clock, and at eight I was pleasantly housed at the Mer-
* This sheet of water is now known by the unpoetical name of Alexander's Lake, from the circumstance that a Scotchman, named Neil Alexander, settled there, and owned all the lands in the vicinity in the year 1720. The Indians, who called it Mashapaug, had a curious tradition respecting the origin of the lake. I quote from Barber's Historical Collections of Connecticut, p. 431: "In ancient times, when the red men of this quarter had long enjoyed prosperity, that is, when they had found plenty of game in the woods and fish in the ponds and rivers, they at length fixed the time for a general powwow—a sort of festival for eating, drinking, smoking, singing, and dancing. The spot chosen for this purpose was a sandy hill, or mountain, covered with tall pines, occupying the situation where the lake now lies. The powwow lasted four days in succession, and was to continue longer, had not the Great Spirit, enraged at the licentiousness that prevailed there, resolved to punish them. Accordingly, while the red people, in immense numbers, were capering about on the summit of the mountain, it suddenly gave way beneath them and sunk to a great depth, when the waters from below rushed up and covered them all, except one good old squaw, who occupied the peak which now bears the name of Loon's Island. Whether the tradition is entitled to credit or not, we will do it justice by affirming that in a clear day, when there is no wind, and the surface of the lake is smooth, the huge trunks and leafless branches of gigantic pines may be occasionally seen in the deepest part of the water, some of them reaching almost to the surface, in such huge and fantastic forms as to cause the beholder to startle!"
Arrival at Norwich.—A literary Friend.—Indian History of Norwich.—Uncas and Miantonomoh.
chants' Hotel in Norwich, a city beautifully situated at the confluence of the Yantic and Shetucket Rivers, whose wedded waters here form the broad and navigable Thames.
Early in the morning I started in search of celebrities, and had the good fortune to meet with Edwin Williams, Esq., the widely-known author of the "Statesman's Manual" and other standard works. Norwich is his birth-place, and was his residence during his youth, and he is as familiar with its history and topography as a husbandman is with that of his farm. With such a guide, accompanied by his intelligent little son, an earnest delver among the whys and wherefores in the mine of knowledge, I anticipated a delightful journey of a day. Nor was I disappointed; and the pleasures and profit of that day's ramble form one of the brightest points in my interesting tour. I procured a span of horses and a barouche to convey us to Lebanon, twelve miles northward, the residence of Jonathan Trumbull, the patriot governor of Connecticut during the Revolution. While the hostler is harnessing our team, let us open the chronicles of Norwich and see what history has recorded there.
Like that of all the ancient New England towns, the Indian history of Norwich, commencing with the advent of the English in that neighborhood about 1643, is full of romance, and woos the pen to depict it; but its relation to my subject is only incidental, and I must pass it by with brief mention.
Norwich is in the midst of the ancient Mohegan country, and Mohegan was its Indian name. Uncas was the chief of the tribe when the English first settled at Hartford, and built a fort at Saybrook, at the mouth of the Connecticut River. He formed a treaty of amity with the whites; and so fair were his broad acres upon the head waters of the Pequot River, now the Thames, that the sin of covetousness soon pervaded the hearts of the Puritan settlers. Wawekus Hill, now in the center of Norwich, was a famous observatory for his warriors, for eastward of them were the powerful Narragansets, sworn enemies of the Mohegans, and governed by the brave Miantonômoh, also a friend of the white men. In the spring of 1643 the flame of war was lighted between these powerful tribes, and Miantonômoh led his warriors to an invasion of the Mohegan country. His plans were secretly laid, and he hoped to take Uncas by surprise. For this purpose six hundred of his bravest warriors were led stealthily, by night marches, toward the head waters of the Pequot. At dawn, one morning, they were discovered at the Shetucket Fords, near the mouth of the Quinebaug, by some of the vigilant Mohegan scouts upon the Wawekus. From the rocky nooks near the falls of the Yantic, a canoe, bearing a messenger with the intelligence, shot down the Thames to Shantock Point, where Uncas was strongly fortified. With three or four hundred of his best warriors he marched to meet Miantonômoh. They confronted at the Great Plains, a mile and a half below Norwich, on the west side of the Thames. A fierce conflict ensued. The advantage gained by Uncas by strategy * was maintained, and the Narragansets were put to flight, closely pursued by the Mohegans. Through tangled woods and over rocky ledges, across the Yantic, and over the high plain of Norwich toward the Shetucket Fords, the pursued and pursuers swept like a blast. Two swift-footed Mohegans pursued Miantonômoh with unwearied pertinacity, and finally outstripped him, he being encumbered with a heavy corselet. They impeded his progress, but did not attempt to seize him, that honor being reserved for their chief. As soon as Uncas touched Miantonômoh, the latter halted and sat down in silence. He was conducted in triumph to Shantock, where Uncas treated him with generous kindness and respect. The conflict had been brief, but thirty of the Narragansets were slain. Among the prisoners were a brother of the captive king, and two sons of Canonicus, his uncle Uncas, probably fearing that the Narragansets would make an attempt to recapture their
* When Uncas saw the superior number of Miantonômoh's warriors, he sent a messenger to that chief to say, in the name of Uncas, "Let us two fight single-handed. If you kill me, my men shall be yours; if I kill you, your men shall be mine." Miantonômoh, suspecting treachery, disdainfully rejected the proposition. Uncas then fell on his face, a signal previously agreed upon with his warriors, who, with bent bows, rushed upon the Narragansets, who were carelessly awaiting the result of the conference, and thus put them to flight.
Surrender of Miantonômoh to the English.—Unjust Decision.—Murder of Miantonômoh.—Settlement of New London
chief, sent him to Hartford, and surrendered him into the custody of the English, agreeing to be governed in his future conduct toward his prisoner by their advice. Miantonômoh was imprisoned until September, when the commissioners of the United Colonies, at their meeting in Boston, after debating the question whether it would be lawful to take the life of Miantonômoh, referred his case to an ecclesiastical tribunal, composed of five of the principal ministers of the colonies. Their decision was in favor of handing him over to Uncas for execution, without torture, within the dominions of that sachem. Delighted with the verdict of his Christian allies, the equally savage Mohegan, with a few trusty followers, con-, ducted Miantonômoh to the spot where he was captured, and, while marching unsuspicious of present danger, a brother of Uncas, at a sign from that chief, buried his hatchet in the head of the royal prisoner. Uncas cut a piece of flesh from the shoulder of the slain captive and ate it, saying, "It is very sweet; it makes my heart strong." Satisfied revenge made it sweet; and no doubt his heart felt stronger when he saw his powerful enemy lying dead at his feet. The whole transaction was base treachery and ingratitude. Miantonômoh had been the firm friend of the whites on Rhode Island, and his sentence was a flagrant offense against the principles of common justice and Christianity. He was buried where he was slain, and from these circumstances the place has since been called the Sachem's Plain. *
The Narragansets, burning with revenge, and led by Pessacus, a brother of Miantonomoh, invaded the Mohegan country in the spring of 1645. Plantations were laid waste, and Uncas, with his principal warriors, was driven into his strong fortress at Shantock. There he was closely besieged, but found means to send a messenger to Captain Mason, the destroyer of the Pequots, then commanding the fort at Saybrook. As in duty bound, that officer sent succor to his ally, not in men, for they were not needed, but in provisions. Thomas Leffingwell, a young man of undaunted courage, paddled a canoe up the Pequot at night, laden with many hundred weight of beef, corn, pease, &c., and deposited them safely within the fort at Shantock. This timely relief was made known to the besiegers by hoist ing a piece of beef upon a pole above the ramparts of the fort. Unable to break down the fortress, the Narragansets raised the siege and returned to their own country. This invasion was repeated, and with almost fatal effect to Uncas. The English saved him, and, finally, after nearly twenty years of strife, the hatchet was buried between these tribes.
It was in the midst of these hostilities that the younger Winthrop and others commenced a settlement at Pequot Harbor, now New London; and in 1659 Uncas and his two sons signed a deed at Say-brook, conveying a tract of land, "lying at the head of the Great River," nine miles square, to Thomas Leffingwell and others, for a value consideration of about three hundred and fifty dollars. Leffingwell had thirty-five associates, and there founded the city of Norwich, at the head of the plain now known as the old town, or up town. It is not my province to trace the progress of settlement, but simply to note the prominent points
* The spot where Miantonômoh was buried is a little northward of the village of-Greenville, on the west bank of the Shetucket, and about a mile and a half from Norwich. A pile of stones was placed upon his grave, and for many years a portion of his tribe came, in the season of flowers, and mourned over his remains, each one adding a stone to the tumulus. At length their visits ceased, and the voice of tradition being seldom heard at that isolated spot, the proprietor of the land, ignorant of the fact that the pile of stones was sepulchral and sacred to patriotism, used them in the construction of the foundation of a barn. On the 4th of July, 1841, the people of Greenville celebrated, by a festival, the erection of a monument to Miantonômoh, on the spot where he was slain. It is a block of granite eight feet high, and about five feet square at the base, hearing the inscription Miantonômoh. 1643. I did not visit the spot, but, from description, I think the initial letter I, at the beginning of this chapter, is a fair representation of it.
** Owaneko was a bold warrior in his youth, and was distinguished in King Philip's War. In maturity, having lost the stimulus of war, "he used to wander about with his blanket, metonep, and sandals, his gun, and his squaw," says Miss Caulkins, "to beg in the neighboring towns, quartering himself in the kitchens and outhouses of his white friends, and presenting to strangers, or those who could not well understand his imperfect English, a brief, which had been written for him by Mr. Richard Bushnell. It was as follows
"'Oneco king, his queen doth bring
To beg a little food;
As they go along their friends among
To try how kind, how good.
Some pork, some beef, for their relief;
And if you can't spare bread,
She'll thank you for your pudding, as they go a gooding,
And carry it on her head.'"
Settlement of Norwich.—Mohegan Cemetery.—Uncas's Monument.—Revolutionary Spirit.—Owaueko