CHAPTER XIV.
'O Christian warriors! wherefore did you thus
Forget the precepts of your Lord and Chief,
And lend yourselves to deeds of guilt and blood!
Did ye not know—or, knowing, did not heed—
Those solemn words of His, when death was nigh,
And He bequeathed a legacy of "peace"
To His disciples? They that take the sword
Shall perish with the sword. O, well it were
If ye who left your native land, and sought
A desert for the liberty of faith,
Had acted more according to that faith,
And sought to win the souls you rashly sent
To meet their God and yours!' ANON.
Yes, well, indeed, lied it been if the settlers had been able and willing to preserve, unbroken, the friendly relations with the Indians, which, after the first natural distrust felt by the natives towards the white strangers had subsided, they were, in several instances, able to establish. But such was not the case. They received many provocations from the natives, even from those who professed to be most friendly towards them, and also from the settlers who followed them from the mother-country; and they did not always meet these provocations in the truly Christian spirit which, it must be allowed, generally pervaded their councils, and actuated their public and private proceedings with the wild tribes by whom they were surrounded.
Even Masasoyt—their friend and ally—was about this time nearly estranged from them, and on the point of joining the Narragansetts in a project for their destruction. This change in his sentiments was the result of the machinations of Coubitant, assisted by the foolish pretensions and love of interference which rendered Squanto almost as dangerous as he was useful to his employers. His boasting tales about the power of the English settlers to imprison and to let loose the desolating plague at their will and pleasure, had been told to the Sagamore of the Wampanoges, as well as to Coubitant and Miantonomo; and suspicions had arisen in the breast of Masasoyt, which he vainly strove to infuse into his more enlightened and trustworthy son, Mooanam. Nothing that his father could say had any effect in weakening the friendship entertained by the young Sachem, and his brother Quadequina, towards the emigrants; and it was owing to this steady friendship that they were made acquainted with the altered feelings of the Sagamore in time to prevent their ripening into open hostility.
Mooanam communicated to the President the doubts and suspicions that had taken possession of his father's mind, and advised him immediately to send the faithful and devoted Hobomak to Packanokick, to endeavor to remove the evil impression, and restore his confidence in the Pilgrim Fathers. He also convinced both Bradford and his council that the conspiracy which Squanto had represented as already formed, and only waiting the concurrence of Masasoyt to be carried into deadly effect, was as yet in its infancy, and might, by judicious management, be altogether broken up. The Pokanokit interpreter had greatly exaggerated, in his report to the Governor, all that he had heard from Coubitant while at the Narragansett village; and had persuaded him, in spite of the opinion expressed by Rodolph, to believe not only that he and his people had been cursed by the Powows, but also that the tribes to which these satanic conjurors belonged were uniting for the common purpose of attacking and destroying the British settlement.
All this was done by Squanto, with no serious intention of injuring his new friends, but from a vain desire to make himself important, and show the extent of his knowledge and sagacity. His vanity was, however, very near proving fatal to him: for when the trusty Hobomak had explained to the Sagamore the real motives and intentions of the settlers towards the natives, and had convinced him that all the strange and mysterious stories that Squanto delighted to tell were either pure inventions or gross exaggerations, a second change was effected in the old Chief's feelings, and he sent to demand that the faithless interpreter should be immediately delivered up to him.
The Governor was extremely reluctant to comply with this demand, as he well knew how cruel and how summary were the judgements of the native Chiefs; and he, as well as the whole of the colony, felt a regard for Squanto, notwithstanding his folly and his errors. Nevertheless, the Pokanokit was a subject of the Sagamore, who had made an express stipulation in his treaty with the settlers that any of his people, who might take up their abode in the colony, should be given up to him whenever he required it; and therefore Bradford felt himself compelled to abandon Squanto to his fate.
The messengers who accompanied Hobomak on his return to New Plymouth were loaded with a quantity of valuable beaver-skins, which they laid in a pile at the Governor's feet, as a bribe to induce him to comply with Masasoyt's demand. These the Governor rejected with indignant scorn, observing that no man's life could be purchased from the English; and that if he resigned the interpreter into the power of his native sovereign, it was only because truth and justice required it, and not from any base motives either of fear or advantage.
Then the messengers approached the wretched man, who stood calmly awaiting the decision of the Governor; and he saw one of them draw from his belt the knife that Masasoyt had commanded him to plunge into the culprit's heart. But Squanto did not tremble. All the native fortitude, so characteristic of his race, was manifested in this awful moment; and the bystanders felt a respect for the Pokanokit that he had never before inspired.
Gladly would each individual have interposed to save him; and breathlessly they watched the movements of the President, whose signal was to fix the moment of Squanto's death. Bradford hesitated: the word trembled on his lips, when suddenly looking towards the sea from the summit of the Burying Hill,' on which the assembly stood, he espied a shallop bounding over the waves, and advancing directly towards the shore beneath.
He made this a pretext—certainly, not a very well grounded onefor delaying the execution of Squanto's sentence; and declared that he would not give the fatal signal until he had ascertained the object and the contents of the approaching vessel. This faltering on the part of the Governor excited great wrath in the messengers of Masasoyt; and, without any farther parley, they took up their beaver skins, and departed to their home. Squanto's forfeited life was thus providentially spared; and the conduct of Bradford was, through Mooanam's good offices, overlooked b the Sagamore. But that life was not greatly prolonged. Very soon after this event he was seized with I virulent fever, while on a short journey with the Governor, and, in spite of all the care and attention that were bestowed on him, he died, much regretted by the whole colony.
The boat, whose seasonable approach had been the means of arresting the fatal stroke, was found to have been sent from some English fishing vessels, many of which now constantly frequented the shores of New England. It conveyed to the colony an addition of several able-bodied men, who were joyfully welcomed by the settlers, as laborers were just then much wanted, both in the fields and in the increasing town. These men were sent out by an English merchant named Weston, who had long endeavored to encourage the colonization of New England; but from very different motives to those which had actuated the Pilgrim Fathers, and led them to forsake the comforts of a European home for the toils and uncertainties of an American wilderness. A desire for profit appears to have been the ruling principle in Weston's mind. He was, therefore, very indifferent as to the moral character of the men whom he sent out to join the emigrants, and was only solicitous to secure a quick return of the money that he had expended: and, finding that the prospect of gain from a connection with the New Plymouthers was doubtful and tardy, he had resolved to found a colony himself.
For this purpose he had, some time previously, obtained a grant of a portion of land in Massachusetts, and sent over sixty men to cultivate it, in two ships, which he placed under the command of his brother-in- law. The arrival of this fresh band of emigrants had proved a fruitful source of trouble and annoyance to the first settlers, for they were chiefly idle and profligate vagabonds, who had no settled occupation at home, and no characters to sustain. Weston himself described them in a letter to Bradford, as 'tolerably rude and profane.' And a friend of the Pilgrims wrote from England to warn them against having any connection with the new colony: and recommended them to have it distinctly explained to the Indians, that they were a new and independent society, for whose conduct and good faith they could in no way be responsible.
Notwithstanding all these warnings, and the very unprepossessing appearance of the new emigrants, the Plymouthers had shown more kindness and hospitality than they had prudence and caution: and had received their countrymen into their own settlement on their arrival in America. They had even permitted on half of their number to reside at New Plymouth during the whole summer, while the strongest and healthiest had proceeded to Massachusetts to fix on a spot for their settlement, and prepare habitations. They had decided on a place called Wessagussett,[*] a little to the south of Boston; and thither they were afterwards followed by their companions from New Plymouth. The long residence of these men among the pious and high-minded Pilgrims had not, however, made any salutary impression on their minds: and all the kindness and hospitality they had received were most ungratefully forgotten.
[Footnote: New Weymouth]
In various ways the new colony vexed and annoyed the men of Plymouth; but in no way more seriously than by their conduct towards the natives, which was so different to the just and upright dealings of the Pilgrims, that the Indians began to lose their confidence in the white men, and to suspect deceit and imposition where hitherto they had only found truth and justice. Weston's colony was, indeed, scarcely settled at Wessagussett, before complaints were sent by the Indians to their friends at Plymouth, of the repeated depredations that were committed by the new settlers, who were continually carrying off their stores of corn, and other property: and these accusations were by no means surprising to Bradford and his council, as they had already detected them in many acts of theft during their stay at New Plymouth.
The harvest of this year was poor and scanty; and the great accession to their numbers, caused by the visit of Weston's settlers, had entirely consumed the stores of the Plymouthers, and reduced them again to actual want. Joyfully, therefore, they hailed the arrival of two ships from the mother country, laden with knives, beads, and various other articles, that would be acceptable to the Indians in the way of barter, and enable the settlers to purchase from them the necessary supply of provisions, for which they had hitherto been compelled to pay very dear in skins and furs. Meanwhile, the colony of Wessagussett was in a still worse condition. They had quickly consumed all the food with which the generous Plymouthers had supplied them, and had then stolen everything on which they could lay their hands. They had also sold almost all their clothes and bedding, and even their weapons; and were brought to such extreme necessity that they did not refuse to do the meanest services for the Indians who dwelt near their settlement, in return for such means of subsistence as the red men were able to furnish them with. For this condescension—so unlike the dignified yet kind deportment of the Plymouthers—the natives despised them, and treated them with contempt, and even violence. Thus early was the British name brought into disrepute with the Indians, when men bearing that name came among them for mere purposes of speculation and profit, and ware not governed by the Christian principles of humanity and justice that distinguished the earliest settlers in New England from all those who followed them. Nor did the evil consequences of their ill conduct rest with themselves. They fell also on the peaceably-disposed colony of Plymouth, and were the means of involving them in hostilities with the natives, which had hitherto been warded off by the kind and judicious management of the Governor and his assistants.
The general state of peace which had, up to this period, been maintained with the Indians, was greatly to be attributed to the bold and decisive measures that were always adopted by Miles Standish, the military chief of the little community, and the leader of every warlike expedition. He well knew how to impress the natives with a due respect, for he never tolerated the slightest injury or insult, and yet he never permitted his men to be guilty of any act of injustice or oppression towards the red men.
Since the arrival of Weston's disorderly colony, Captain Standish had shown himself even more decided in maintaining the rights and the dignity of the Plymouthers, and had endeavored to show the natives that they were not to identify the new comers with those whom they had already learnt to know and to respect. But at length, in spite of all these judicious measures, the Pilgrims were drawn into the quarrel that subsisted between their countrymen of Wessagussett and the natives; and, having drawn the sword, they certainly forgot the principles of mercy and humanity that had hitherto guided them. Active measures were, undoubtedly, called for; but cruelty and stratagem were unworthy of these Christian warriors.
The continued marauding expeditions of the men of Wessagussett had exasperated the neighboring tribes to the last degree; and the state of weakness to which they were reduced by their own thoughtless and improvident conduct, led the natives to suppose that they would fall an easy prey to their combined force. They, therefore, again formed a combination to attack and utterly destroy these oppressive intruders into their country. Probably the council of Chiefs, who met in the depths of the forest to arrange their plan of operations, would have contented themselves with contriving the destruction of the new and offending colony, which they might easily have effected had they confined their projected operations to that object alone. But there was one in the council who could not rest satisfied with such a partial vengeance on the white strangers; and his fiery eloquence, and false assertions and insinuations, prevailed over the rest of the Chiefs to disregard every treaty, and every obligation that ought to have bound them to the settlers of New Plymouth, and to include them also in their savage scheme of massacre and plunder.
The argument by which he finally overcame the scruples of those Chiefs who had allied themselves with the first emigrants, and had acquired a regard and respect for them, was one of self-preservation. He boldly asserted that the men of New Plymouth would never either pardon or forget the destruction of their countrymen of Wessagussett, but would immediately lay aside the mask of kindness and forbearance with which they had hitherto concealed their undoubted project of acquiring the dominion of the whole country, and gradually destroying the red men; and would call forth all their supernatural powers, and blast them with fire and plague, unless they were taken by surprise, and annihilated at one fell swoop. All the superstitious fears of the ignorant natives were thus aroused, and if there were any in the assembly who were too well acquainted with the white men to credit all that Coubitant asserted, they thought it either unsafe or unwise to express their opinions any further.
Happily for the settlers, one such faithful and friendly spirit was there to watch for their interests, and provide for their preservation. Masasoyt had resumed all his kindly feelings towards his English allies, since the misunderstanding occasioned by Squanto's meddling propensities had been explained away by the trusty Hobomak. He had also recently been visited by Edward Winslow, when he was afflicted with a severe illness, and the Christian soldier had ministered to his relief in a way that had excited both the wonder and the lively gratitude of the Sagamore. When, therefore, he obeyed the summons of Coubitant to join the general council of Chiefs, he had no intention of consenting to any hostile measures being undertaken against his powerful and beneficent friends. Weston's wild and disorderly crew had excited his anger in common with that of all the other neighboring Sachems; and he was quite willing to combine with his red brethren for their chastisement—perhaps, even for their utter destruction: but he did not confound the Pilgrim Fathers, who had never failed in truth and honesty, with the deceitful and marauding vagabonds who wore white faces, and called themselves Christian subjects of King James, while they acted like heathen savages.
At first, Masasoyt met the malignant arguments and false assertions of Coubitant with an open and generous statement of the upright conduct of the strangers towards himself and his tribe, during the three years of their residence in New England; and urged the assembled Chiefs to beware how they attempted to molest men whose power to resist and punish any such attempt was only equaled by their willingness and ability to benefit those who treated them with confidence and integrity. But he soon perceived that his arguments in favor of mercy and justice were powerless, when opposed to the fierce and crafty harangues of Coubitant; and he, therefore, forbore to make any further reply, and even appeared to acquiesce in the decision of the council, that the only means of securing the safety and independence of the Indian tribes was utterly to exterminate the invaders.
The proposed plan for accomplishing this barbarous project, was first to surround and fall on the miserable and sickly colony of Wessagussett; and then, before the news of the massacre could reach New Plymouth, to hasten thither, and wreak on its unsuspecting and unprepared inhabitants the same fierce vengeance.
The day and hour were fixed, and every necessary preliminary was minutely arranged; and then the council broke up, and the Chiefs returned to their respective dwellings, to collect and fully arm their followers, and prepare to meet again at the appointed time and place, with both hands and hearts read to execute the bloody deed.
Masasoyt retired like the rest; and, attended by the little band of warriors who formed his bodyguard, be took the forest path that led to his dwelling at Packanokick. But he did not long pursue that path. When he had proceeded such a distance through the forest as to feel sure that he should not, by turning to the right, cross the route of any of the other Chiefs, he dismissed all his followers, except two of the most trusty and confidential. The rest he desired to proceed immediately to Packanokick, and inform his people that they must prepare for a warlike expedition, and that he was going to visit his son, Mooanam, in order to give him directions to join in the enterprise with that portion of the tribe that was under his authority.
This was very far from being the truth; but the Indian Sagamore considered that every falsehood and stratagem was allowable, and even meritorious, that could further a desired object, especially if that object was so undoubtedly good in itself as that which now engrossed his thoughts and wishes. He did not know that it is sin to do evil that good may come; and therefore we must judge him by his generous motives, and not by his heathen practice.
Having thus freed himself from those on whose discretion and fidelity he could not fully rely, he changed his course, and traveled straight towards New Plymouth. There was no beaten track through the tangled woods in that direction; but the position of the sun, and the appearance of the trees, were sufficient guides for the sagacious Indian Chief, and, in spite of his advanced age, he pursued his way with vigor and activity. Frequently his path was obstructed by the luxuriant growth of underwood, or by the cable-like creepers that hung in every direction, crossing each other like the rigging of a ship, and presenting obstacles that nothing but the tomahawks that hung from the girdles of the natives enabled them to overcome. With these weapons— ever ready, in the hand of an Indian, either to cut his way through the forest, to fell the timbers for his wigwam or his canoe, to slay the game that his arrows have brought to the ground, or to cleave the skull of his enemy—did old Masasoyt and his devoted followers divide the large tough climbing plants that obstructed their passage. Sometimes, also, when the sun was totally obscured and the necessary windings in their course would hive rendered them uncertain whether they were following the right direction, these useful tomahawks enabled them to consult the Indian compass.
The manner in which these children of the wilderness supply to themselves the want of that invaluable instrument is both curious and ingenious, and it proved of essential use to the Wampanoge Chief on this occasion. Whenever he found himself at fault from the absence of the sun, or any other direct indication of the proper course, he raised his battle-axe, and struck a heavy blow at some neighboring pine or birch tree, on each side of which he cut a deep notch, and then, by examining the grain of the wood, he could tell which was the north, and which the south side—the former being easily ascertained by the greater closeness of the concentric rings, and consequent hardness of the fiber. The sap being more drawn to the south side by the action of the sun, causes the rings on that side to swell more; and this operation of nature has been observed by nature's children, and employed by them as a sure guide in their long wanderings through the pathless forests where they find a home.
The journey to New Plymouth was rather a long one; but the Sagamore and his companions were each provided with a small quantity of their usual travelling food, nokake—or meal made of parched maize—which they carried, in true Indian fashion, in their hollow leathern girdles. When they came to a pond, or brook, they paused to eat a few handsful of this simple provision, which is so dry that it can only be swallowed when either water or snow is at hand, ready to wash down each mouthful; and, consequently, in summer the natives have sometimes to travel long distances before they can avail themselves of the food that is already in their hands.
Immediately on his arrival at New Plymouth, the Sagamore repaired to the dwelling of Bradford; and, requesting a private interview—at which no one was allowed to be present except the Wampanoge interpreter Hobomak—he informed him of the conspiracy of the natives, and warned him to be well prepared for the intended attack. Could he have given this warning, and ensured the safety of his allies, without betraying the whole of the conspirators' projects, he would gladly have done so; for he both despised and hated the men of Wessagussett, and he was willing that they should he treated as they seemed disposed to treat such of his race as they could get into their power. He even made an attempt to persuade Bradford to leave them to the fate they so well deserved, and to connive at their destruction, which would remove an increasing evil from the first colony.
But the President soon convinced him that such a course would be altogether at variance with the precepts and principles of that religion in which he gloried, and which it was his chief aim, and that of all his Christian brethren, to exalt and make honorable in the eyes of the natives: and that, therefore, no selfish considerations could induce them to abandon their countrymen to destruction, notwithstanding their ingratitude towards themselves, and their ill conduct towards the Indians.
With this decision Masasoyt was extremely dissatisfied: but he could not now withdraw the information he had imparted, even if he desired it; and he also felt it to be most politic to secure the friendship of the white men, even if it should involve the sacrifice of the lives of some of his own countrymen, and interfere with their projects of vengeance on their foes. This was most likely to be the case in the present instance; for the Governor was excited to great indignation by the intelligence f this second conspiracy, in which several of the Chiefs who had signed the treaty with Captain Standish were concerned; and he immediately summoned the gallant soldier, and the rest of his council, to deliberate on the best means of defeating it.
It now only wanted three days of the time appointed for the gathering of the red warriors, and the attack on Wessagussett. No time was, therefore, to be lost; and it was soon determined that Standish, with a band of eight men, should march the following morning at day-break, and come stealthily upon the savages before they could he fully prepared for the assault. It was a bold—perhaps a rash—measure, for so small a party to go forth, and encounter the native forces thus combined. But Standish, though a man of prudence and discretion, was a stranger to fear; and he and his followers had already learnt the power of order and discipline, in compensating for any disadvantage of numbers. It was, therefore, with cheerful confidence that the military force of the settlement prepared for their march and they plainly showed on what that confidence was founded, by requesting the prayers of the congregation for their success.
A great part of the night was, accordingly, spent in prayer; and the blessing of the God of truth and mercy was solemnly asked upon an enterprise that the leaders well knew was about to be carried out by fraud and cruelty.
At sunrise, the soldiers met on 'the Burying Hill,' and the staff of office was given, with much solemnity, to Captain Standish, by the pious and venerable Brewster. They had already taken leave of their wives and families, who did not altogether share the cheerful exultation displayed by the Puritan warriors; and who were not permitted to be present at this final ceremony, lest their anxious fears should disturb the composure of their husbands and fathers. Notwithstanding this characteristic prohibition, Helen, and her younger daughter Edith, had ventured to station themselves in the path that led down 'the Burying Hill,' in the direction in which Standish and his men were to march, that they might take one more farewell of Rodolph before he left them on an expedition which, to their minds, seemed fraught with danger and uncertainty; and where they feared he might again be exposed to the vengeance of his untiring foe.
The gallant little band marched down the hill, and came where Edith and her child stood waiting, beneath a tree, for what might be their last look on one most dearly loved; and when Rodolph saw them he forgot the strictness of discipline and order required by his commander, and left the ranks to indulge the feelings of his heart, by again embracing his weeping wife and child.
The stern captain instantly recalled him; and when he saw a tear glistening in the eye of the husband and father, a slight expression of wonder and contempt passed over his countenance. He marveled that so brave a soldier and so strict a Puritan as Rodolph Maitland should still remain subject to so much worldly weakness. But Standish was not, at that time, a married man; and he was very deeply imbued with all the severe and unbending principles of his sect, which even went so far as to demand the suppression of all natural feelings—making it a fault for a mother to kiss her children on the Lord's day—and inflicting actual punishment on the captain of a ship for having embraced his wife on 5 Sunday, when, after a long separation, she hurried to meet him, as he landed from the vessel! To such puerile littlenesses will even great minds descend.
Rodolph was unmoved by the commander's contemptuous glance. He knew his own unflinching Puritan principles, and his own undaunted courage; and he knew his value in the eyes of Standish. The captain knew it also, for he never liked to go on any enterprise that required bravery and cool judgement without securing the aid of Maitland; and although the tenderness of his friend's feelings, and the warmth of his domestic attachments—so different to the coolness and apathy which was so prevalent in the community—were a continual subject of surprise and pity to the iron-hearted leader, yet he highly respected him, and even loved him, as much as such a gentle feeling as love of any kind could find admittance to his breast.
They journeyed on thenthat stern captain, who had no tie to life, and deemed it a privilege to die with 'the sword of the Lord and of Gideon' in his hand, fighting for the cause of his own peculiar sect, in which alone he thought salvation could be found; and that warm-hearted husband and father, who felt that he had left behind him what was far dearer than life itself—those who alone made life precious to him-and who yet was willing to sacrifice all, if honor and duty demanded it. Which was the braver man of the two?
Both were brave; but Standish was the most unscrupulous. He considered that any stratagem was lawful which could place his heathen enemies in his power; and no arguments of the high-minded and truthful Maitland could convince him that deceit and treachery, even towards their infidel foes, were unworthy of Christian warriors. Miles Standish was resolved to use some device to get the chiefs of the conspiracy off their guard, and, by destroying them, to break up the hostile confederacy altogether: and as Maitland was bound to obey his orders, and also knew the utter impossibility either of changing the resolves of his captain or of deserting the enterprise, he was compelled to join in proceedings that he could not approve.
When the little band had arrived at the spot indicated by Masasoyt, and within a short distance of the Indian place of rendezvous, Standish commanded his men to halt for rest and refreshment for the last time before the expected encounter with the army of savages who were assembling for their destruction. This halting-place was situated on the summit of a considerable elevation, well covered with trees and bushes, and overlooking a plain, on the further side of which the Indian camp was formed. The advantageous position in which the emigrants were posted enabled them to obtain a full view of their enemies without being perceived by them; and Captain Standish resolved to remain there quietly that night, in order to recruit the strength of his men after their rapid and toilsome journey, and to mature his plans for subduing the horde of natives before him with so small a band as now surrounded him, and who waited but his orders to rush on to the most desperate enterprise.
The Wampanoge interpreter, Hobomak, accompanied the party at his own desire, and that, also, of his sovereign, Masasoyt. Standish was glad of his assistance in his capacity of interpreter: he had already shown such devoted attachment to the English, that they entertained no fears of his either betraying or deserting their cause; and, on this occasion, he fully justified their confidence.
Early in the morning, the leader announced his intention of going himself to the Indian camp, to make overtures of peace, and to invite the Chiefs to a conference; and he desired his men to construct a strong and spacious wigwam for their reception, and to make a door to it, which could be closed and fastened securely. He did not then explain his project more clearly; but Rudolph understood it, and his soul revolted from the treachery he suspected. 'Now,' said the captain, having finished his directions to his well-disciplined followers, 'who will volunteer to go down with me and Hobomak to the heathen camp, and to carry the flag of truce before me? It may be a service of danger to enter that hornet's nest; and no one who has left his soldier's heart at home with his wife or his children, had better attempt it.'
Rudolph felt the sarcasm, though it was uttered good humoredly, and he instantly replied—
'I am ready, my chief, to attend you wherever you may go; and if I have left my heart's affections at New Plymouth, you shall see that I have brought with me none the less of courage and fidelity to my leaders and my countrymen. The dearer my home, the more energetic shall be my efforts to preserve it from desolation. Besides,' he added, In an undertone, so that only Standish should hear: 'I much prefer going boldly into the midst of the enemy, even at the risk of my life, to remaining here to assist in constructing a trap for their destruction.'
'You are a brave fellow, Maitland,' said the captain, grasping his hand with warmth and energy, 'but you have brought some peculiar prejudices over from Europe with you, and do not yet perceive the difference of warring on equal terms with civilized troops—as you were accustomed to do in your youth—and contending with a horde of savages, who know nothing of the laws of honor, and who are even now combined to destroy us all, without either challenge or preparation. Come along with me, and leave the rest to do as I have directed. Necessity has no law; and if we do not meet those cunning natives with equal cunning, we shall have no chance against them.'
'Truth and sincerity appear to me the strongest necessity; and the God of truth will order the results as he pleases,' answered Rodolph. 'But I have sworn to obey your orders, and you need not fear the constancy of either my heart or hand. I know my duty as a soldier, and I will do it.'
'I know you will, Maitland,' replied his commander; and his respect for his conscientious friend rose higher than ever, while a slight misgiving as to the righteousness of his own projected plan passed through his breast. It did not abide there, however, for he was really satisfied that he was acting in conformity to the will of God, and that he was fully justified in asking for His blessing to crown his murderous schemes with success.
Maitland took the flag of truce, which consisted of a long spear, with a white handkerchief attached to the summit, and preceded the captain, who followed in full uniform, attended by his swarthy interpreter. As soon as they emerged from the wood that covered the halting-place, and entered the open plain, they were espied by the keen and watchful eyes of the natives; and a messenger was dispatched to meet them, and bring them to the presence of the Indian leader, Wattawamat, who was regarded as the chief of the conspirators.
Captain Standish assumed a pacific air, and desired Hobomak to advance before him, and inform the Chiefs that he came to propose terms of reconciliation and peace. He then himself approached them; and, with the aid of the interpreter, made to them a rather lengthy harangue on the benefits that would accrue to them from preserving peace with the white men; and his sorrow, and that of his employers, on having accidentally discovered that the tribes of Massachusetts entertained feelings of enmity towards the British settlers at Wessagussett.
Ever and anon, during the translations of the various paragraphs of this speech, Rodolph observed the keen eyes of the captain, as they carefully surveyed the surrounding force, and examined the individuals who appeared to be their leaders. And once, when his own eye followed the direction of his commander's, his glance encountered one that instantly riveted it, and excited in his breast some sensations—not of fear, for Rodolph knew not the feeling—but of inquietude and distrust. Yes; Coubitant was there, gazing at his supposed victim with amazement and hatred; and half inclined to believe that some supernatural power must belong to the man who could have been wounded with his deadly arrow, and yet survive to confront him once more. There he stood—with disappointed vengeance in his heart, and fury flashing from that eye of fire.
But while he kept a continual watch on every movement of Rodolph's, his quick ear lost not one word of the speech that Hobomak was rendering into his native tongue. He heard when, in Standish's name, he invited the Chiefs to meet him in the wigwam that his men were constructing on the border of the thicket, and where, he said, he would smoke with them the pipe of peace, and give to them the presents that the Governor had sent, as pledges of his friendly intentions.
The moment this invitation had been delivered, Coubitant approached Wattawamat, and whispered a few words in his ear, to which the Chieftain gave a sign of acquiescence; and then the Nansett left the assembly, and disappeared among the trees and bushes that bounded the plain on every side.
Wattawamat gave no immediate reply to the proposal of the English Chief; but, as is not unusual with the Indians, kept up a long discourse, and contrived to lengthen the audience for a considerable time. Another Indian then approached the Sachem, and again whispered to him some words that gave him evident satisfaction, for he smiled grimly, and displayed his fine row of ivory teeth for a moment, as he nodded approbation to the messenger. Then, resuming his wonted gravity of demeanor, he replied to Captain Standish that he was satisfied, by his assurances, of the good faith of the white men, and that he and his brother Chiefs would avail themselves of his invitation, and meet in the wigwam a little before sunset; where he hoped so to arrange all the little disagreements that had occurred between the red men and the mighty strangers, as to be able to establish between them and all his countrymen the same friendship and alliance that appeared to exist with the Wampanoge tribe, whose Chief, he observed, with a slight curl of his lip, had failed in his promise to attend their meeting that day.
The cause of this favorable decision on the part of Wattawamat was the report that Coubitant had just sent him of the insignificant force of the English, which that crafty and swift-footed warrior had contrived to ascertain, by running round the border of the weed to the place where Standish's men were at work, and taking an accurate and unobserved survey of their numbers.
He felt convinced that it would be easy for the Chiefs, and such of their attendants as might be allowed to follow them to the place of conference, to overpower and destroy every one of the little band of whites, and then to prosecute their original intention of carrying fire and slaughter into both the British settlements. In all this scheme there was nothing so grateful to the ruthless heart of Coubitant as the idea of Rodolph's death; and that too, as he trusted, by his own hand. O, how he panted for the devilish joy of tearing off his scalp, and carrying it back to throw it triumphantly at Henrich's feet! We shall see whether such joy was accorded to him.
Standish and his companions took their leave, and returned to the hill, where they found great progress had been made in building the wigwam; and two hours before sunset it was completely wattled round, leaving only a small aperture near the top to admit light, and a narrow place of entrance, to which a strong door was affixed.
The captain then explained his plan, which was approved by all but Maitland; and he forbore to urge any further opposition, which, he felt, would now be useless. A temperate meal was partaken of, and a hymn sung by the undaunted little company; and pipes and tobacco having been plentifully placed in the hut, the sides of which were decorated with pieces of gay colored calico, and a few knives and trinkets, as pretended gifts to the Chiefs, nothing remained but to await the arrival of the victims.
Soon the Indian Chiefs, decked in all their bravery of feathers and embroidered skins, came marching a cross the plain, followed by a few attendants less richly adorned. Standish and his party went to meet them, and conducted them with much courtesy to the wigwam, which was soon obscured by the clouds of smoke that issued from the pipes of the grave and silent assembly. But this silent gravity did not long continue. Captain Standish addressed the Chiefs, and strove to speak kindly to men whose deaths he was compassing all the while: but, whether his resolution somewhat failed as the moment for the execution of his bloody purpose drew on, or whether he was disconcerted by the absence of Rodolph, who refused to enter the wigwam, and assist at the slaughter, so it was that he manifested evident signs of weakness and indecision.
The Chiefs were emboldened by this, and they were troubled by no qualms of conscience on the subject of shedding the white men's blood. They rose from their seats on the ground, and began to taunt the captain with his want of eloquence, and also with the smallness of his stature, which was despicable in their eyes. Then, growing still bolder as they became excited, they drew their knives, and whetted them before the eyes of their hosts: flourishing them round their heads, and boasting how they had already shed the blood of many white men in the distant European settlements.
It was a fearful scene: but the real peril of his situation instantly restored the commander to his wonted resolution and firmness. He called on his men to be ready, and not to allow one of the Chiefs to escape from the wigwam, and with his hand on his pistols, he waited the proper moment for action. The Indians continued to pour forth the most abusive epithets: but they did not begin the expected attack, and it was evident that they were a little intimidated by the undaunted bearing of the white men. One of them, however, seemed actuated by some desperate purpose, and to be regardless of aught else. From the moment of his entrance into the wigwam, his eyes had sought some object that they did not find: and now, in all the excitement of the approaching conflict, his only aim seemed to be to make his way through the entrance in search of some person on whom he desired to wreak his fury. It was Rodolph whom Coubitant sought, and who was now, providentially, out of his reach, and waiting the result of the deed against which he had vainly protested.
At length the wrath of Standish broke loose. He gave the appointed signal, and the door was closed—shutting in friends and foes in one small field of battle, or, rather, of carnage. The scene in the dimly- lighted wigwam was terrific; and the yells of the infuriated natives broke, with a sickening effect, on the ears of Rodolph Maitland, who could not consent to share in what he considered a murderous conflict, and not an honorable war; and who yet felt as if he was deserting his countrymen, by thus remaining inactive.
But if he felt undecided as to his proper course of action, that indecision did not last long. In a few moments the door of the wigwam was violently burst open, and the combatants rushed out, struggling and bleeding, from the den of slaughter. All the white men came forth, for, though many of them were wounded, not one had fallen. But three of the Indians lay dead and dying on the floor of the hut; one of them being the mangled body of Wattawamat, who was slain by Standish with his own knife—that very knife which the savage had sharpened for the purpose of plunging it into the heart of the white chief!
Where was Rodolph now? In the midst of the fray, fighting desperately and successfully. The moment he saw the battle raging in open field, and beheld the blood flowing from the wounds of his countrymen, he forgot all else except that his strong right arm wielded a trusty blade; and its skilful stroke soon brought another of the red warriors to the ground, and chased away those who sought to secure their wounded comrade. The Indians saw that they were overmatched, and that nothing but flight could save the remainder of their party; they therefore uttered their wild war-cry once more, and commenced a rapid retreat down the hill, pausing several times to send back a volley of arrows on their victorious foes; which, however, fell harmless to the earth, though more than one was aimed at Rodolph, by the strong and skilful hand of Coubitant.
But rest was not to be afforded to the little conquering band. While they were securing the wounded Indian, and binding up their own wounds, they discovered a movement in the body of savages on the other side of the plain, and truly surmised that they were preparing to attack them in greater numbers. Standish instantly gave orders that the Indian whom Rodolph had brought to the ground should be hung to a neighboring tree, which was as instantly executed; and he re-entered the tent, to make sure that no life remained in those three who lay on its bloody floor. All were dead: and Standish, approaching the body of the Chieftain Wattawamat, raised his good broad sword, and at one blow severed the head from the trunk. Then seizing the gory head by the long scalp-lock, he carried it forth as a trophy, and desired one of his men to secure it, and carry it back to New Plymouth.
No time remained for further parley. A band of Indians were approaching across the plain; and Standish disdained to fly, even before such superior numbers. Every musket and pistol was hastily loaded, and the undaunted party marched down the hill to meet the coming foe. They met: and in spite of the furious onset of the savages, they were again made to feel that their undisciplined hordes were no match for the well- aimed fire-arms of the white men, and had no power to break the order of their steady ranks. Once more they fled, leaving another of their number dead on the field, and they returned no more to the charge. During all this affair, Hobomak had remained a quiet spectator of the combat, and of the defeat of his countrymen; and now he approached the English captain, and complacently praised his bravery and military prowess; and he remained as devoted as ever to his Christian friends.
The triumphant soldiers returned to New Plymouth, and were received with joyful exultation by the Governor and the inhabitants, who felt deeply grateful for the deliverance that had been accorded to them, and the safety of the brave men who had fought in their defense. All the little band had been preserved from serious personal injury; but Rodolph Maitland had also been preserved from blood-guiltiness, and that was more to him than life and safety, and to his Christian and devoted wife also.
The head of Wattawamat was brought to New Plymouth, and the dreadful trophy was conspicuously placed over the entrance to the fortress, as a warning to the natives against any future conspiracies for the destruction of the white men. So great, indeed, was the terror inspired by the power and the severity of the settlers, that many of the natives—who were conscious of having been engaged in the conspiracy, though undiscovered—left their wigwams, and fled into the woods, or concealed themselves in reedy morasses, where a great number of them perished from hunger and disease. The settlers were much distressed at this result of their proceedings, which, at the same time, they considered to have been perfectly justified by the necessity of self- preservation. But when their venerated pastor Robinson—to whom they had, ever since their emigration, looked for guidance and sympathy— heard of these sad events, he expressed the deepest sorrow, and begged them never again to be led away by the fiery temper of their leader; adding these touching and impressive words—' How happy a thing had it been, if you had converted some before you had killed any!'