SASSACUS AND UNCAS: RIVAL CHIEFTAINS OF THE PEQUOT REBELLION
The English are an adventurous people and none were more so than burly Captain Stone, a hardy mariner, who, in the summer of 1633, made a coastwise trip from Maine to Virginia in a little schooner. Attracted by the broad harbor of the Connecticut River, he sailed by the rocky bluffs at the entrance and was soon gliding between the green hills which roll back from either side of the sparkling waters of the stream. Charmed by the peaceful scene, he kept on drifting up the winding water course, until he finally dropped anchor beneath a headland covered with the sweet-scented bushes of the sumach and wild plum.
"It seems that this is a likely place for the partridge or grouse," said one of the seamen, as the ship lay peacefully at anchor on the quiet water. "What say you, good Captain, if I and two others go ashore with our fowling pieces to look for game?"
"Good," answered the stout Captain, "and if you see a deer, be sure and bring it down, for we are much in need of fresh meat upon our vessel."
"All right, we will go at once," said the seaman, and, quickly selecting two companions who armed themselves with flintlocks, the sporting sea-dogs were soon ashore. That night they did not come back, but, thinking that they had wandered off in the quest of venison, Captain Stone did not give the matter a second thought.
When morning dawned, a canoe, filled with Indians, was seen coming from the shore. "How! How!" said the red men, when the canoe came near the ship. "We bring presents to white man. We want to see big house on water."
A Sachem of the Pequot Indians was in the bow of the birch-bark boat, and, as he smiled in a friendly fashion, the Captain gave orders that he should be allowed to come on board with all his dozen men. Not long afterwards, he was agreeably conversing with them in his cabin. The crew were in the cook room, getting their luncheon, when, overcome by the drowsy heat of the day, and with no suspicion that the redskins were other than peaceful braves, the Captain fell asleep in his bunk.
Silently the Indians sneaked to the cupboard—where the muskets were kept—and seized them. Then, when all were passed to the waiting braves, the Sachem crept over to the sleeping Captain Stone, and, with one swift blow, brained him with his hatchet. Immediately his followers rushed to the small room where the crew were peacefully eating, and, aiming at them through the window, shot at those who were nearest. All leaped to their feet and made a rush for the door in order to grapple with their assailants. Three lay groaning upon the floor, as the rest rushed upon the vindictive savages who, using their knives and spears, cut at the sailors with cruel vengeance. A desperate struggle commenced.
The whites and Pequots struggled back and forth upon the narrow deck, which now grew slippery with blood. More than one savage was knocked overboard, but, as they outnumbered the crew, it was plainly evident that the outcome of the struggle would be in their favor. Suddenly, a loud report was heard. The decks flew asunder from the force of an explosion below. The splitting timbers belched outwards upon the blue waters of the quiet stream, and, with a muffled roar, both red men and white were shot into the water. Some clung to the wreckage, some hung on to the canoe and boats, as—in lurid flames and black smoke—the remains of the little schooner were burned to the water's edge. But, although hurled into the water, most of the Pequots escaped, were picked up by their companions, and paddled back in the canoes and ship's boats to complete the massacre. When night came, only a few charred timbers, floating upon the surface of the Connecticut, were left to mark the scene of the tragedy.
This was in 1633, when the Puritans were well established at Plymouth and Boston, and were continually pushing into the interior to find good farm lands. Sassacus was Chief Sachem of the warlike Pequots, and, in spite of this massacre, sent a messenger to the Governor of Massachusetts—in the year following—to gain his friendship and alliance. His emissary brought two large bundles of sticks with him and a large quantity of wampum. "I will give as many skins of the beaver and otter as I send pieces of wood," was the message which King Sassacus sent to the Chief Executive of Massachusetts, "and I wish your friendship and allegiance. Will you sign a treaty with me?"