[FN-1] Weetamore, Weetamoe, or Weetanno, a kinswoman of Philip, and the active ruler of the tribe, though married to an insignificant fellow named Peter Nunnuit. All her subjects joined Philip with herself, excepting Alderman, who had the honor of shooting that Sachem with his own hand. Weetamore was drowned in August, 1675, attempting to escape from the English over a stream in Swanzey; and her head, in the barbarous style of the times, was set upon a pole at Taunton, much to the chagrin of such of her tribe as were compelled to witness the spectacle. Pocasset, now Tiverton, was on the coast, opposite the north of Rhode Island.
[FN-2] Or Sogkonate; a tribe on the same coast with the Pocassets, governed also by a Squaw-Sachem named Awashonks, or Awasunck, somewhat celebrated for her masculine qualities, and for the part she took in Philip's war, first against the English and then with them. Captain Church, who effected this change in her politics, has given a minute account of his interviews with her. Ten of her tribe were living in Compton, as late as 1803.
It is well known, how speedily the execution of this instrument was followed up by sending a strong English force to invade the Narraghansett territory, and subdue that spirited people at the point of the bayonet. Canonchet is supposed to have been engaged in the great swamp-fight, the most fatal to the Indians, and they most desperately fought upon their part, of the whole war. It continued to rage with the utmost violence for three hours from the moment of assault, until the enemy's wigwams, to the number of five or six hundred, were fired, and the field of contest became almost instantaneously an immense mass of terrific conflagration. The Savages, inspirited by their leaders, defended every wall and post with the fury of maniacs; and when they at length slowly retreated, they left the ground behind them encumbered with heaps of the slain. Quarter was neither asked nor given. Three hundred of the Narraghansetts, at the least estimate, are supposed to have been killed, besides more than double that number wounded, and an unknown multitude of women, children and old men burnt in the wigwams.
But the victory was dearly bought. Of the one thousand English soldiers of which the civilized portion of the invading army consisted, according to their own statement, eighty were killed and one hundred and fifty wounded. Abandoning the captured fort, they retreated sixteen miles the same night—and that in the depth of winter—leaving the enemy to return the next day to their former position.
It is not our intention to discuss at length the propriety of the summary course adopted by the colonies in this case. The principal offence of the Narraghansetts, as set forth in the Manifesto, was their evasion and delay in surrendering the hostile Indians who took refuge in their country. This refusal was certainly inconsistent with the stipulations of July and October preceding; but these stipulations were enforced in the first instance by the presence of an English army, which had already invaded the Narraghansett territory.
Those of the tribe who made proposals of peace, immediately after the swamp-fight, imputed the blame of hostilities wholly to Canonchet. He had made them believe, that by the former treaty they were not obliged to surrender Philip's followers, until his brother, (who, with three other Indians of rank, was detained as a hostage at Hartford,) had been released. Probably, Canonchet did not himself misunderstand the plain provisions of that instrument, although, as he does not appear to have been present at the execution of it, it might be misrepresented to him. It is more likely, that he considered it an absolute nullity, as having been obtained by force, unjustly and insultingly imposed. The construction referred to by his subjects, he countenanced with the view of overcoming scruples on their part in the protection of Philip's Indians. Whether that protection—independently of the forced promise to surrender the refugees—was or was not a sufficient cause for the war which ensued, it must be allowed at least to do no dishonor to the humanity and honor of Canonchet, and the other Sachems, who persisted in that policy at every hazard and almost in the very face of their enemy. With him and them it was unquestionably a measure of sacred principle. No noble-minded chieftain upon the Continent, educated as an Indian chieftain always is, would have given up men who appealed to their hospitality—their own brethren, in distress and nakedness, driven before the bayonet of a mortal enemy of a distinct race and of vastly superior power—and least of all, when, if surrendered, they were surrendered to a certain alternative of slavery or death. Some of his tribe would have compromitted their dignity through fear, but not the son of Miantonomo. "Deliver the Indians of Philip!" said the haughty Sachem at one time—"Never! Not a Wampanoag will I ever give up. No!—Not the paring of a Wampanoag's nail!"
Those who are familiar with the history of the war will recollect, that the most critical period of it was immediately subsequent to the swamp-fight. This was owing to the desperate exertions of the Narraghansetts, and especially Canonchet and their other Sachems. They were indeed driven about the country far and wide, and reduced to such extremities for food, that corn sold for two shillings a pint; but their sufferings only made them the more ferocious, and the more bold. "That young insolent Sachem, Canonchet, (writes Mr. Hubbard, in his usual complimentary style,) said they would fight it out to the last man, rather than they would become servants to the English."
The destruction of Lancaster took place early in February. Medfield was desolated ten days afterwards; and in March happened that memorable engagement, not far from Providence and upon ancient Narraghansett ground, in which Captain Pierce with his detachment, to the number of fifty English soldiers, were cut off to a man. Canonchet commanded in this affair. The spirit of his warriors, as well as the superiority of the English skill in the use of their arms, appears from the fact that the Indians lost between one and two hundred killed. Warwick, Seekonk, and Providence were next successively ravaged by the victorious foe. Plymouth was assaulted, and eleven of the inhabitants slaughtered; and another party had the courage to commit horrible ravages within eleven miles of Boston itself. The prospects of Philip were never so flattering to himself and so disastrous to the English, as at this memorable juncture, when the exasperated and fearless son of Miantonomo was supporting him with the whole force of his dominions.
The manner in which the Narraghansett Sachems treated Roger Williams, at this period, amid all the excitement of suffering on the one side and success on the other, is worthy of everlasting remembrance. That gentleman was one of the few English who remained at Providence, exposed to the full torrent of war, and with no other security than such as he attributed to long acquaintance, friendship, and good faith, with those who were now become the inveterate enemies, and were openly calculating upon the utter extermination of his race. He had even the hardihood to reproach some of the Sachems who frequently came to converse with him, for their cruelties; and to threaten them with the sure, though it might be lingering vengeance of the English. "Massachusetts," said he, "can raise thousands of men at this moment; and if you kill them, the King of England will supply their place as fast as they fall." "Well!" answered one of the chieftains, "let them come. We are ready for them.—But as for you,—Brother Williams,—you are a good man,—you have been kind to us many years.—Not a hair of your head shall be touched." This noble pledge, bearing upon the face of it the mark of the chivalrous spirit of Canonchet, was regarded throughout the war with the most sacred fidelity. It was not in vain that the young Sachem remembered the warm affection which his father had entertained for his English neighbor and confidant.
But to resume the narrative;—"It was now full sea with Philip's affairs," says Mr. Hubbard, "for soon after the tide of his successes began to turn about the coast, which made way for the falling of the water up higher in the country." The disasters of the Pokanoket Sachem commenced with no less a misfortune than the death of Canonchet. And a matter of rejoicing indeed it was to the Colonies of the English—if we may credit the historian last cited—"that the ring-leader of almost all this mischief; and the great incendiary betwixt the Narraghansetts and us, died himself by that sword of war which he had drawn against others." The last assertion might perhaps have been spared to advantage, but the epithets furnish the best evidence in favor of the subject of them which the case could be supposed to present.