"A chief was here at the setting of the sun," added Massasoit, "and he told me that the pale-faces did not love me, else they would visit me in my pain, and he urged me to join the war party. But I said, 'No.' Now, if you take the chiefs of the league and kill them, it will end the war-trail in the blood of those who made it, and save the setllements." The chief's advice was afterward taken by Miles Standish and his men, and proved to be successful in nipping the conspiracy in the bud.
Mr. Winslow remained several days and his fame as a physician spread so rapidly that great crowds gathered in an encampment around Montaup to gain relief from various ills. Some came from the distance of more than a hundred miles. But on hearing of the plot above mentioned, immediately started for home.
The other leading events in the life of Massasoit may be soon detailed. In 1632 he was assaulted at Sowams by a party of Narragansetts and obliged to take refuge in the home of an Englishman. His situation was soon ascertained at Plymouth, and an armed force being promptly dispatched to his relief under his old friend Standish, the Narragansetts were compelled to retreat.
Massasoit and ninety of his people were also present at the first celebration of Thanksgiving in the autumn of 1621, and were feasted by the colonists for three days, though the Indians contributed five fat deer to the festivity. Oysters, turkey and pumpkin pie also graced this occasion, and no Thanksgiving feast is considered complete to-day without these essentials.
Governor Winthrop records this anecdote of the great sachem: "It seems that his old friend 'Winsnow,' made a trading voyage to Connecticut, during the summer of 1634. On his return he left his vessel upon the Narragansett coast for some reason or other, and commenced his journey for Plymouth across the woods. Finding himself at a loss, probably, as to his route, he made his way to Sowams, and called upon his ancient acquaintance, the sachem. The latter gave him his usual kind welcome, and upon his resuming his journey offered to conduct him home, a pedestrian journey of two days. He had just dispatched one of his Wampanoags to Plymouth with instructions to inform the friends of Winslow that he was dead, and to persuade them of this melancholy fact by specifying such particulars as their own ingenuity might suggest. All this was done accordingly, and the tidings occasioned, as might be expected, a very unpleasant excitement throughout the colony. In the midst of it, however, the sachem entered the village attended by Winslow, with more than his usual complacency in his honest and cheerful countenance. He was asked why such a report had been circulated the day previous. 'That Winsnow might be the more welcome,' he answered, 'and that you might be the more happy; it is my custom.' He had come thus far to enjoy the surprise personally; and he returned homeward more gratified by it, without doubt, than he would have been by the most fortunate foray among the Narragansetts."
We have seen it intimated more than once that Massasoit's fear of those warlike neighbors lay at the foundation of his friendship for the English settlers. It might have been nearer the truth, considering all the known facts in the case, to say that his interest happened to coincide with his inclination. At all events, it was in the power of any of the other sachems of the surrounding country to have established the same friendly relation with the colonists had they been prompted by as much good breeding or good sense. "On the contrary," as Thatcher says, "the Massachusetts were plotting and threatening on one hand, as we have seen—not without provocation, it must be allowed—while the Narragansett sachem, upon the other, had sent in his compliments as early as 1622, in the shape of a bundle of arrows, tied up with a rattlesnake's skin. Nor should we forget the wretched feebleness of the colony at the period of their first acquaintance with Massasoit. Indeed the instant measures which he took for their relief and protection look more like the promptings of compassion than either hope or fear. A month previous to his appearance among them, they were reduced to such a pitiable condition by sickness, that only six or seven men of their whole number were able to perform labor in the open air; and probably their entire fighting force, could they have been mustered together, would scarcely have equaled that little detachment of twenty which Massasoit brought with him into the village, delicately leaving twice as many with the arms of all behind him, as he afterward exchanged six hostages for one. No wonder the colonists 'could not yet conceive but that he was willing to have peace with them.'"
Massasoit was unique among Indian sachems, in the fact that he was ever a lover of peace; nor is he known to have been once engaged in waging war with the powerful and warlike tribes who environed his territory. All the native tribes of New England but the Pokanoket confederation were involved in dissensions and wars with each other and the white settlers; and all shared sooner or later the fate which he avoided. This chief vied with Canonicus and Miantonomoh, the Narragansett sachems, in giving a hearty welcome to Roger Williams at the time of his banishment from Salem, when he "fled from Christians to the savages, who knew and loved him, till at last he reached the kind-hearted but stupid Indian heathen, Massasoit." These three friends in his time of distress shouted their welcome salutation of "Wha-cheer, wha-cheer?" and grasped his hand with cordial sympathy as he stepped ashore.
The reason for this warm welcome accorded Roger Williams the Baptist, the father of "soul liberty," is obvious when it is remembered that he took great interest in the Indians, so mastering their dialects as to be able to prepare "a key to the languages of America." Except Eliot, his coworker, he was the most successful missionary among the Indians of this period. "My soul's desire," he said, "was to do the natives good." And later he wrote. "God was pleased to give me a painful patient spirit, to lodge with them in their filthy, smoky holes to gain their tongue."
While at Plymouth he had written a pamphlet against the validity of the colonial charter and submitted it to Governor Bradford. This he afterward published while at Salem, and in it he said: "Why lay such stress upon your patent from King James? Tis but idle parchment; James has no more right to give away or sell Massasoit's lands, and cut and carve his country, than Massasoit has to sell James' kingdom or to send his Indians to colonize Warwickshire." Thus did he run a tilt against the established law and order of his time; but while it endeared him to Massasoit, who became to him "a friend in need and a friend in deed," it led to his banishment from Salem "in winter snow and inclement weather"—without guide, without food, without shelter, he suffered tortures. "Fourteen weeks," he wrote, "I Was sorely tossed in a bitter season, not knowing what bread or bed did mean." He must inevitably have perished in the frozen wilderness without giving to the world his immortal idea, had he not found shelter and food with Massasoit.