And now to speak somewhat of Massasoit’s stature. He is as proper a man as ever was seen in this country, and very courageous. He is very subtle for a savage, and he goes like the rest of his men, all naked but only a black wolf skin he wears upon his shoulder. And about the breadth of a span he wears beads about his middle. And these beads they make themselves, which they account as gold above silver before the beads we bring out of England.
Lastly, to speak a little in what peace and friendship we are with the savages, which peace we have had with Massasoit ever since our coming. And he never expressed his love more to us than of late; for in the Massachusetts there was a colony—I may rather say a company of idle persons, for they had no civil government among themselves, much less were they able to govern and rule Indians by them. And this plantation was begun about one year and one half since by one Mr. Weston,[79] who came this year to see his plantation. But by many notorious deeds among themselves, and also having in their necessity stolen corn from the Indians, the Indians began to condemn them and would have killed all the English, but they feared that when the English of Patuxet did hear what they had done, then they would set upon the squaw sachem in the Massachusetts and so kill all the Indians in the Massachusetts. Whereupon they determined another resolution: to cut the English at Patuxet, whom they stand in fear of now, and the English at Massachusetts both at one time. But in the mean time, the great Massasoit sent to Patuxet for some physic, because he was fallen very sick, and so, by God’s help, he was cured. And upon his recovery, he made known the plot of the Indians of Massachusetts against us, and told us that if we would not go fight with them, he would. So at the return of our surgeon from Massasoit, came a messenger from Mr. Weston’s plantation at Massachusetts, telling us that there was a plot against us by the Indians of Massachusetts. Whereupon the Governor, Mr. William Bradford (well worthy the place), sent Captain Standish with some six or seven others to the Massachusetts to bring away the head of him that made the broil. And so, by God’s goodness, he killed our chief enemy and five or six others without any hurt to our part, and brought away the head of the chiefest of them.[80] And [it] is set on the top of our fort, and instead of an ancient,[81] we have a piece of linen cloth dyed in the same Indian’s blood, which was hung out upon the fort when Massasoit was here. And now the Indians are most of them fled from us, but they now seek to us to make peace. But we are informed by Hobomok that eight shallops of Indians, well provided, are coming this way. They say themselves that they come to fight with other Indians that have killed a friend of theirs, but if they come at us to offer any violence, I doubt they will never carry their shallops back again—it may be, not with their lives. And these Indians, we hear, have muskets and fowling pieces, with powder and shot, which they have bought of the Frenchmen in Canada and of the Englishmen at the Isle of Monhegan; but that trade is already stopped by the King’s proclamations concerning the same trade.
And now, loving brother, I have little else to write of unto you—but only one thing I thank you kindly for, and that was for the last letter you sent me in England, wherein you desire [me] to hold fast to the truth and likewise to be diligent in my place. Of both which make no doubt—no! be persuaded that I will rather die a thousand deaths than once to shame God or my country. And now, seeing that I am entered into this place, doubt not but that I will always increase in knowledge. And indeed, when I undertook this voyage at first, I always held the art of navigation to be most hard and difficult, but now, through some practice and reading, I have attained to that I hope never to forget. And I hope by that time I see old England to be able to conduct a ship myself, safe into any harbor in New England. But God disposeth of all things. And truly, I never lived better to my content nor among those who can more respect me as the Company in old England and here[82] likewise do, who think nothing too good for me. I praise God, I have my health ’till now that I wrote this letter—but I mended apace.
And now, loving brother, I must make an end, although I think no pains sufficient to express my love unto you. I doubt not but you will show yourself a friend to me in taking care for that little stock I have. I am desirous it should increase—and in your hands, if you think it profitable to you. I know you will deal the more providently for me, because of divers reasons well known to yourself. I pray let that same £100 be taken of my Mr. Hawes or his heirs when it is due (and that will be about March, 1624), and if you and my brother Hawtry[83] think good, take it into your own hands. I have wrote to my brother Hawtry to buy me the books of English voyages, which will do me great good. I pray look that they be bought me, and send by this messenger that is come from New England and hath lived there three years. And he comes away about December from London, that he may come with the fishermen, to be here in February. I pray let those books be of the same voyages that is lately put forth by Mr. Purchas, minister about Ludgate.[84]
Thus much I have thought good to let you understand concerning the estate of myself and New England, and now I will take my leave of you, desiring the God of hosts to guide you and yours in your going out and coming, so that all your labors may prosper under your hands, and that your life in this world of misery may be such a life that may prepare you to a better in the world to come.
And thus, my kindest love and best affections being remembered to you, desiring you to accept of this mite (being compared to my mind). Likewise, as I am bound to respect, so let my love be remembered to my sister your wife, and to my worthy friend, Sir John Leventhorpe, and to his good lady, and all the rest of that noble house, as to my Lady Fowle and Sir John Fowle, my brother Thomas, and my sister Mary.[85] And I pray merrily tell her it will be no tarrying for me because I know not when I shall come into England. But I pray likewise tell [her] that I could here give her much land if she will come and live among this wild scene of Indians. I hope this will make her smile. And now, I pray let my love be remembered to my aunt Wolley, hoping that she will have me in her mind, although not in her eye; I mean I hope she will remember me at her death, which must be one day.[86] Pray remember me likewise to Mr. Denn and his wife and old goodwife Stracy, and to my worthy Adventurer Henry Stracy, who, if he claims his money, let him have it, I pray you, for I see it will come in with profit. Pray likewise remember my love to Mr. Bland and William Watson, and pray tell them thus much: that because a ship could not be got when I had cattle in my hands, and likewise because I could get nobody to join with me, I put that money into the common stock; and it shall be answered in that, which, if they be not contented, I will repay again. The like, I pray, do to goodman Wells. Remember me to him and tell him I find great need of his cousin, the potter.[87] I pray, sir, let them read this letter—either the same or a copy of the same—and so, likewise, I pray let my noble friend, Sir John Leventhorpe; although I have wrote to him, yet I refer him to particulars in your letters.
And so I take my leave of you; but I pray remember me to my father Adee and mother Adee, and to all the rest of my friends to whom I am by any way tied—as to Seth Haggar and Edward Skoles, whose so long continuance and good service in your house have caused me to speak well of them.
And thus I end, desiring the Lord to direct you in all your ways, words and actions, and to guide you by his Holy Spirit and so to enable you, that in what you have been wanting to glorify his name in this world among men, your heart may be more and more touched with the reverence of so great a God, and to labor more and more to glorify him here, that so you may be glorified by him in the world to come, where one day, if I see you not in this world, I make no doubt but to meet you, which God, for Christ Jesus’ sake grant unto us. And so I bid you, Farewell! Farewell in the Lord; and the God of heaven, earth, seas and all things be with you and protect you in your going forth and coming in. And so, being guided and directed by God’s holy angels, you may not be ashamed to show yourself before God and the Lord Christ at that great day of account when all things shall be made known. And so, even from my heart and soul, I take my leave of you and the rest of my other friends who are mentioned in my other letters. Vale!
I shall be glad to hear from you. In the beginning of December, pray send your letters to Mr. Sherley’s in Crooked Lane.[88] Divers matters I could write, but only this let me tell you: that I would entreat you to stir up a few friends to venture four or five hundred pounds with me when I come myself. For I then intend to make a voyage to fish, which I make no doubt but I can get two of one in eight months. This thing I thought good to impart to you, and do entreat you to provide such a course against I come home, if you can.
Forth, this is a most ordinary voyage undertaken.