FOOTNOTES:
[B] The Atlantic Monthly.
[C] Speech at Dartmouth Webster Centennial Dinner, Boston, 1882.
[D] John Colby was the husband of Mr. Webster's eldest sister, who died many years before the visit here referred to. He was known as a great sceptic in religious matters in early life, and hence Mr. Webster's earnest desire to visit him soon after he heard of Mr. Colby's conversion.
FORTY YEARS OF FRONTIER LIFE IN THE POCOMTUCK VALLEY.
BY HON. GEORGE SHELDON.
One result of John Eliot's attempt to civilize the Massachusetts Indians was, that in 1663 the General Court granted to the town of Dedham eight thousand acres of wilderness, as compensation for the territory taken by the apostle for his settlement at Natick. After an examination of various localities, Dedham selected a tract upon the far away lands of the Pocomtucks, bought out the rights of the Indians who claimed it, and in 1665 laid out the grant there. This land was divided into five hundred and twenty-three shares, or rights, called "cow-commons," and held by each freeholder of Dedham, according to his interest in the undivided land in the old township; and it was paid for by a general town tax. Fractions of a cow-common were called sheep-commons, five of which equalled a cow-common. These shares were offered for sale to such men as Dedham should approve. The required standard of character does not appear, but this regulation was no dead letter, as the town records testify; and picked men only were allowed a foothold on this new possession. We may therefore suppose that it was a goodly body of men which gathered, about 1671-5, on the virgin soil in the lower valley of the Pocomtuck River. Here were the headquarters of the Pocomtuck Indians, whose chieftains were at the head of the confederate clans in the Connecticut valley. In 1663, the date of the grant, the Pocomtucks were engaged in a successful campaign against the powerful Mohawks; but, before the compass and chain of the surveyor had been called into requisition to lay out the bounds of the grant, the majority of this tribe had been swept off by a retaliatory invasion of their western enemies. This was doubtless considered a special interposition of Providence in behalf the projected settlement, and a manifestation of Divine indignation against the heathen, who were popularly considered subjects of the devil, seeking to establish his kingdom "in these uttermost parts of the earth." However this may be, the first English settlers here found the power of native rule broken, and a remnant of the Pocomtucks gathered for protection near the centre of a triangle formed by the settlements at Hadley, Hatfield, and Northampton.
The early comers had no fear of the natives, and danger there was none. They were welcomed by the crushed tribe as another bulwark against the Mohawks. There is no hint of any hostile feeling on the part of the red men, or of any anticipation of it on the part of the whites, until the breaking out of Philip's War. The primal cause of this outbreak is not far to seek. Whenever and wherever, on our shifting frontier, our so-called civilization has come in contact with the barbarism of the aborigines, similar results have followed. And nowhere was this effect more certain than when our Puritan ancestors, with their inflexible ideas of duty, confronted the New England savage in his native wilds.
It should have been early apparent to our rulers that these two races, essentially so different, could not live side by side in fellowship and harmony, and subject to the same rules and regulations. Eliot realized this, and planned the isolated community at Natick, which, as we have seen, resulted in the English settlement at Pocomtuck.
The policy of the whites was, by fair means or foul, to induce the natives, as soon as possible, to acknowledge allegiance to the English; this being accomplished, the laws of the Puritans were strictly enforced upon these free children of the forest, and their violation punished by fine, imprisonment, and stripes. It does not appear that any particular effort was made in the Connecticut Valley to teach the savages the precepts of Christ, but they were held accountable to the laws of Moses, as interpreted by the rulers, even to being punished for travelling on Sunday.
Such oppressive acts by narrow-minded good men were supplemented by the knavery of unscrupulous bad men. The Indian trader, in accordance with the teachings of the times, not only looked upon the savages as the offspring of Satan, but also as fair objects of spoil; consequently, the simplicity, moral honesty, and ignorance if these Canaanites and Amalekites were made the most of financially. Ignorant of the benefits of wise restraint, and unused to such wiles as were practised upon them by the traders, the unsophisticated natives had a hard time indeed between the two.
Demoralized by the white man's fire-water, they were cheated while under its influence. Though the sale of rum to the Indians was forbidden by law, and illicit traders were prosecuted, "conviction in liquor cases" was no easier then than now. The word of a heathen had small weight against the oath of a Christian, and fear of the traders often prevented the victims from pressing their complaints.
Before the advent of the whites the natives seem to have been thrifty and provident, laying up stores for contingencies. With English implements and weapons, their facilities for planting and hunting were greatly increased, and their products should have been correspondingly larger. The unlimited demand for furs should have stimulated the chase, and their sale should have added to their comforts in food and shelter. By their contact with the whites, their lives should have been changed for the better. Was this the effect? The contrary is notoriously true. The increased income was squandered in liquors. Like thousands to-day, they would give their most costly possessions to gratify their appetite for strong drink. When the corn crop was short, and gave out in the spring, or had been squandered for rum, they borrowed of the traders, paying two hundred per cent for it at harvest. They became poor, shiftless, and dependent. They even pledged their children as security, to be held as slaves in default of contract. They knew they were debased, and despised by the superior race, and felt their degradation. To this condition had come the remnant of the Pocomtucks; a power which within a generation had humbled the fierce Mohawks, and scattered in battle the armies of Uncas the Mohegan.
To the natives, the English fur-trader was the representative of his race; and as they gradually found themselves no match for his methods or his morals, their simple faith in the white man's honesty, their debasing fear of his prowess, their reverence for him as a superhuman being, little by little died out. They saw themselves wronged, despoiled, and abused, with less and less power to assert their rights and maintain their independence; and their hearts became more and more filled with a sullen desire for revenge. In the ethics of the North American Indian, there was but one mode of gratifying this feeling. Nothing would suffice but the blood of the offender. This fearful code, with all its horrors, was felt alike by the innocent and the guilty, when Philip and the hour came.
Meanwhile the plantation at Pocomtuck was increasing in strength and prosperity. The rich soil of the meadows yielded an abundance of Indian corn, wheat, rye, barley, beans, and flax. Game of every kind was plenty and easily secured. Flocks of turkeys, pigeons, geese, and ducks were all about them in the woods and waters. The forest also furnished condiments, in the form of sugar from the sap of the maple tree, and honey from the heart of the "bee tree." The rivers teemed with choice fish; herds of deer were so common as to impress the name of "Deerfield" permanently upon the settlement. Peace and plenty smiled on all, and the foundations of the little community seemed firmly established. The planters had come to stay. In 1673, a minister had been secured in the person of Samuel Mather, a Harvard graduate of 1671. In 1675, they had already "a little house for a meeting-house, yt they meete in," and were building a dwelling for the minister. None dreamed that the horrors of an Indian war were so soon to overwhelm them and change the whole aspect of nature and of human affairs in this quiet valley. The news of the outbreak at far-off Plymouth, in June, 1675, raised no fears in them. The attack on Brookfield, August 2, opened their eyes, and preparations for defence were pushed with vigor. The swamp fight under the shadow of Wequamps brought the war to their very doors; and, on the first of September, the settlers were called upon to defend their homes against the attack of those who had hitherto been considered trusty friends.
The days of peace and plenty were over for this unhappy people. On the slaughter of Lothrop and the "Flower of Essex," at Bloody Brook, September 18, this chosen land was deserted and given back to the wilderness.
After seven years of wandering, such of the survivors as had courage enough returned to the desolate scene of their former prosperity; but the progress of resettlement was slow and painful. Fortifications were built, old and young trained for soldiers, watch and ward kept night and day, scouts ranged the surrounding forests, and all were constantly on the alert. All hunting or fishing, all labor in forest or field, all journeying, was at the imminent risk of life or liberty. From the nearest swamp or thicket, from behind some fence, stump, or clump of brake, at any moment might appear the flash of the musket or gleam of the scalping-knife. Never ending toil under these conditions, and unceasing vigilance, were the price of existence, and the stern realities of life closed in upon them on every side. Labor they must, or starvation was at the door; for their sustenance must be drawn from their own acres. They could not look back for aid, as the towns below were in the same condition. Women and children were not exempt from laborious toil. Of relaxation there was little, and recreation was unthought of. Even parental love was constrained and formal. Children were born into a cold and cheerless atmosphere, and it is not to be wondered at that they grew up hard and austere men and women, whose chief or only solace was the hope of an eternity of rest and psalm-singing, in a heaven earned by the endurance of trials with piety, patience, and faith that all their sufferings would in some way redound to the glory of God.
There was little desire or opportunity for cultivating the mind. A dense ignorance of letters was the rule. Hardly a woman born of the generation preceding Queen Anne's War could write her name, and many of the most active and useful men could do no better. The people lived wholly off the land. Their clothing and bedding were either from flax, raised, pulled, rotted, broken, and swingled by the men; and hatchelled, carded, spun, and woven into cloth, and cut, and made up by the women; or else of wool sheared from the flocks, carded and spun by hand, and knit into stockings, or woven into blankets or rugs, or into flannel, to be fulled for men's wear; or into linsey-woolsey, for the women and children. To the material for men's garments must be added buckskin for breeches and leggins. Shoes were often made of untanned hide, moccasin fashion, a method borrowed from the Indians. Thorns took the place of pins in woman's gear, and thongs did duty for buttons, with men. If the maiden did have "genuine bear's oil" for her hair, for lack of a mirror her head must be dressed by the pool or placid spring.
The imports were the metals for the smith, guns, swords, lead, powder, rum, salt, sickles, razors, jack-knives, scissors, needles. There was seen occasionally, in the most forehanded families, a show of red shag cotton, calico, or Manchester. Very rarely some ambitious woman would appear with a silk wimple, scarf, or ribbon. In such extreme cases, be she dame or maiden, the stern hand of the law fell heavily upon the culprit, and certainly with more weight if she wore the unseemly and offending article "in a flaunting manner."
They had neither tea nor coffee. Their drink beside water was cider or malt beer. Spirituous liquors were a luxury, used principally in sickness, at weddings, funerals, or other special occasions. Indian corn and wheat were staple articles of diet; the former eaten as hulled corn, or beaten in a mortar into samp or hominy; and probably wheat was prepared in the same manner. Their dishes were of wood or pewter; gourd-shells answered for dippers and vessels of various use; and clam-shells made acceptable spoons. The household utensils were largely home-made.
Artisans were few. The wood-work of their carts, ploughs, yokes, and other farm implements, was generally made at home. The cart-irons, ploughshares, chains, axes, billhooks, scythes, and other cutting instruments, were hammered out on the anvil of the village blacksmith; and the work turned out by them is unequalled by any of the craft to-day.
With all their hardships and poverty, with all their distress and danger, the people were strict in the observance of all the established rites of their faith. The meeting-house burned in Philip's War was at once replaced on the second settlement. Within a score of years this had been outgrown, and a third edifice erected. It was two stories, square, with the roof rising from each of the sides to the turret in the centre. Of the interior finish a little is known. There were no pews; the worshippers were "seated" in fixed places, according to rules established in town-meeting, where the "dignity" of each rude bench was formally discussed and declared by vote. The women sat on the right of the minister, and the men on the left. The boys and girls were stored away somewhere in nooks and corners, under the eye of the tythingmen. On each side of the entrance places were reserved where, on entering, the men could deposit their loaded guns under the care of an appointed guard. While the faithful pastor was warning his devout hearers against the wiles of the tempter within, the sentinel, stationed in the turret above, watched all approaches, to guard against surprisal by an enemy without.
The communities of this period are often referred to as pure democracies, where each man was ranked equal to every other. This is far from the fact. There were real aristocratic distinctions in every town, nowhere more apparent than in meetings for religious worship. The truth appears to be that the settlers were still bound by the fetters of habit and custom brought from the mother-land. Emancipation from its aristocratic practices and social distinctions came only with the slow growth of democratic ideas and the overthrow of kingly rule.