The Landing of the Pilgrims Read online

  Squanto alone always made himself useful. In fact he had become necessary in many different ways. Above all, he was “the tongue of the English.” He became their official interpreter and lived in Plymouth.

  When the planting was finished, Governor Bradford and his Council decided that it would be in the interests of peace and good business to return Massasoit’s visits. Winslow was appointed as their ambassador to the great Chief. He would take with him Squanto as a guide and interpreter and John Hopkins, who was a very good shot. They would of course take along a present worthy of the great Chief.

  “A scarlet coat trimmed in lace is a vanity,” observed the Governor, as he took the cotton hunting coat from the oaken chest and handed it to Winslow. “But methinks it will delight the heart of our new friend, Chief Massasoit. Remind him of our deep love and of our desire that he bring many more of the skins of the beaver to trade for mirrors and iron kettles. Explain kindly how we wish that his people would come less often to visit us, but assure him that his royal person will be always welcome. Beseech him that he search out those from whom we took their corn, that we may restore the same to them in full measure.”

  They started at sunrise, marching steadily through the green woods in single file, behind the silent Squanto. In the middle of the afternoon they sighted the smoke of a campfire and came upon a band of Indians in an open corn field. Squanto said they were a tribe called Namasheucks.

  These Indians invited the English to eat with them. The hungry white men feasted on large helpings of corn bread and shad roe. This last novelty was the most delicious Indian food they had yet tasted.

  Suddenly the Indians pointed excitedly to where a flock of crows was alighting in their field of young corn.

  “They want you to shoot at the crows which are damaging their crops,” Squanto explained.

  Obligingly, Hopkins rested the heavy musket on the firing staff and took aim.

  “Make sure you bring down a black thief,” whispered Winslow.

  The next second the shot resounded across the clearing, and the crows rose cawing with a great flapping of wings. The Indians ran and picked up a dead crow, amazed at the magic powers of the white hunter.

  Squanto urged that the party push on while it was still light. After an eight-mile march, they came upon a fair river, where there were Indians catching fish. They had made a fine catch of bass. That night, the English and Indians feasted on fish fresh from the river. Then they slept under the stars, for the Indians had built no lodges there.

  When Squanto and the Englishmen started off the next morning, six tall braves accompanied them. During the long hot day’s march, the Indians carried the Englishmen’s guns and baggage for them and took them over streams on their backs. The English admired the many kinds of fine trees as they marched through the forests. In places they crossed rough outcroppings of rock.

  Once or twice the party met an Indian and his family and stopped to trade trinkets for food.

  Along the rivers were the barren corn fields. These had been cultivated a few years before by a numerous tribe which had been wiped out by the plague. Winslow and his men came upon their skulls and bones lying in the underbrush.

  Late in the day the party came out on a river and Squanto pointed to where a village of round lodges straggled along the river bank.

  “Here Massasoit and his people dwell,” said Squanto.

  Curious Indians surrounded the newcomers. When it was discovered that Massasoit was not there, a messenger was sent to notify him of Winslow’s arrival.

  Squanto urged that when Massasoit came, the English should fire their muskets in his honor. The Chief was considerably startled by the salute and most of his people vanished into the woods. He was vastly pleased, however, when his visitors put the scarlet coat on his shoulders and a copper chain about his neck. He strutted about the village before his admiring subjects.

  When he tired of this, Massasoit made a solemn speech, saying he agreed to all that the English desired. He would give them new varieties of seed corn. He asked only that they destroy his enemies, the terrible Narragansetts.

  After the speech, he explained that he could not offer supper to his English visitors as he had procured no food, but he invited them to sleep in his lodge. Then, for entertainment, the tribe sang and danced till late in the night, while the hungry white men slapped at the mosquitoes.

  That night in the Chief’s lodge, they shared the hard board bed with Massasoit and his wife. Two more huge Indians crowded in beside them. The night was sultry and the lodge full of hungry fleas.

  “We were worse weary of our lodging than of our journey,” said Winslow.

  Next day, the village was crowded with curious braves, their women, children, and dogs. They came for their first look at white men. Massasoit proudly paraded in his red coat. The Indians begged the white men to shoot at a mark. Hopkins blazed away at a dead tree with a charge of birdshot. The braves were amazed and puzzled to find the tree full of holes.

  Later, for supper, Massasoit brought in two large fish he had shot with his bow and arrows, but these did not go far among forty Indians. Their chief amusement was gambling and they wagered with one another for skins and knives.

  The Englishmen spent another miserable night fighting fleas and mosquitoes in Massasoit’s lodge. Although the Chief begged them to stay, they left at dawn the next morning. They had eaten only a little fish in two nights and a day and had had hardly any sleep. They were glad to be returning to Plymouth.

  Of a Black Sheep and of a Strayed Lamb and of How Squanto Was Avenged

  (August 1621)

  The Billingtons had been shuffled into the Mayflower company at London and were one of the profanest families in Plymouth. John Billington had refused to obey the orders of Captain Standish and had used some very bad language. As a punishment, he had been forced to spend a number of unpleasant hours on public display, with his neck and his heels tied together.

  His two sons, John and Francis, were a wild and vagrant pair. Francis had gone into the gun room of the Mayflower as she lay in Provincetown Harbor, and had found a loaded musket, which he fired off. As there were powder barrels about and one was open, it was a miracle that the ship had not been blown out of the water. Later in Plymouth the boys had been strictly forbidden to go to the woods. Of course, Francis took the very first opportunity to explore the forest.

  From the top of a high hill, where he had climbed a tree, he caught a glimpse of shining waters in the west. When he returned, he reported he had seen the western ocean. He and one of the sailors went inland for three miles and found the “ocean” to be two large fresh-water lakes, out of which flowed the town brook. The lakes were full of fish and wild fowl. Folks said that Francis had made a valuable discovery. The lakes were called Billington’s Sea.

  Again the Billingtons stirred up Plymouth. John Junior disappeared in the forest. It was rumored that he had been stolen by Indians. At first some people said that they felt sorry for the Indians, but after five days, the village was very alarmed. A lost child was everybody’s business and a search party was organized. Ten of the stoutest men went down the Cape in the shallop to search among the Indians. After a heavy storm, they put in for the night at Cummaguid Harbor (Barnstable Harbor).

  The next morning the boat was left aground at low tide. Shoreward the searchers could see a party of Indians hunting for lobster. From them they learned, through Squanto, that John Junior was safe among the Indians at Nauset (Eastham). The braves invited them ashore to share their lobster breakfast, then took them to their chief sachem whose name was Ivanough. He was the handsomest and most courteous Indian the Pilgrims had ever met.

  As the Indians crowded around them, an old woman pushed forward to see the white men. She was so withered and wrinkled that they took her to be at least a hundred years old. She tottered forward and peered closely in their faces. Suddenly she burst into a loud wailing and began weeping bitterly.

  After the hubbub had quieted
somewhat, Squanto explained that the old woman had once had three sons. They had gone aboard Hunt’s trading vessel and had been carried off and sold in Spain, even as Squanto himself had been. Ever since, the mother had grieved, for she knew she would never see them again.

  Captain Standish said, “Hunt is a bad man of whom the English are ashamed. We would not do such a thing for all the furs in the country.” He tried to comfort the poor woman with some trinkets, which seemed to please her.

  There was now hope that they would soon find young Billington alive among the Indians. It was again low tide when they reached Nauset. Darkness prevented them from entering the harbor, so Squanto and Ivanough were sent with a message to Aspinet, Sachem of Nausets, saying that the English had come to seek the lost boy.

  Soon a band of the Nauset Indians came down to the shore and waded out to the grounded shallop. They urged the English to bring the boat ashore.

  Captain Standish suddenly realized that these were the same Indians who had attacked them at the place of the First Encounter.

  “Stand ready to fire,” he ordered. Then, turning to Squanto, the Captain went on: “Squanto, tell them that only the Indians whose corn we have taken may come aboard.”

  Squanto explained to the two tall warriors who came aboard that the English wished to pay them for their corn. They would bring them the corn or the Indians could come to Patuxet (Plymouth) for it. The braves said they would like to come to Patuxet.

  More Indians surrounded the shallop. Aspinet with fifty unarmed warriors had now joined them and behind him were fifty more waiting with their arrows on their bow strings. At this moment John Billington, Junior, arrived on the scene, perched triumphantly on the shoulders of a huge Indian. He was decked in feathers and necklaces of wampum and was having a wonderful time.

  The boy was restored to his father. The Indian who had taken charge of him while he was a captive among them was given a knife. A few trinkets to Aspinet restored peace.

  Sitting about the campfire, the boy told of his adventures among the Indians. He had had a good time with the Indian children and was well treated. He would be the hero of the hour in Plymouth when they returned. No wonder he was so pleased with himself!

  Squanto returned to camp from the Nausets with alarming news. He had heard that the terrible Narragansetts were on the war path. Massasoit had been captured and some of his people killed. Plymouth was in danger, with only twenty-two men to defend her. Standish decided to return to the threatened settlement at once, for it was a forty-eight-hour journey by sea. The wind was contrary but they started back without further delay. After a rough voyage they came to Plymouth at last and found all things well.

  An Indian named Hobomok came running in from the woods with more alarming news. He and Squanto had gone in search of their Chief, Massasoit. They learned that he had been betrayed by one of his sachems, named Corbitant. This Indian was stirring up Massasoit’s own people in revolt against him, and was speaking against the English.

  Corbitant had taken Hobomok and Squanto prisoner, but Hobomok had managed to escape. The last he had seen of Squanto, he was being threatened by Corbitant with his knife. Corbitant had said that if Squanto were dead, the English would lose their tongue. Hobomok was sure that by this time Squanto had been killed.

  Captain Standish determined this insolence must be punished at once. If Squanto were dead, he must be avenged. At the head of his army of ten musketeers, Standish started out for Corbitant’s village.

  All day Standish and his men marched in the rain. At nightfall, Hobomok said they were approaching the Indian village. They halted for supper, left their heavy knapsacks behind, and advanced stealthily through the darkness.

  Pressing on, they surrounded the village. Standish burst into Corbitant’s lodge with his drawn sword, shouting, “Let no one move till we have taken Corbitant.”

  Several Indians who attempted escape were wounded in the scuffle. The soldiers fired their muskets. The whole town was in an uproar. The Indian women surrounded Hobomok and hung on his neck, seeking protection and calling him “towam,” or friend. Seeing that the women were being spared, the Indian boys began crying out that they were girls.

  Captain Standish was told that Squanto was still alive. He ordered the campfires to be lighted and the lodges searched. Hobomok climbed atop a lodge and began calling for Squanto. He suddenly appeared in the circle of firelight. All the Indians then were disarmed.

  In the morning it was found that Corbitant and his warriors were not there. The Indians were told that the English intended to destroy only Corbitant and would punish any who should attack Squanto or Massasoit.

  The party then marched home with Squanto. Several friendly Indians followed with the baggage. Three wounded Indians were brought back with them for treatment.

  “So that, by God’s good Providence, we safely returned home, the morrow night after we set forth.”

  It had been a wild night of shouting and drawn swords and the gleam of armor against the darkness of the forest. Fortunately no one had been seriously hurt. Although Corbitant had not been captured or punished, the power of the fiery little Captain and his army had struck terror into the hearts of the Indians.

  Of the Arrival of the Ship Fortune

  (November 1621)

  It was almost a year to a day from the time that the Mayflower had anchored in Cape Cod Bay. Seven houses stood on the hillside overlooking Plymouth Harbor and more were being built. The common storehouse was full of corn. The Pilgrims had fought starvation and won. No Indian attacks had been made on them from the threatening forests. By God’s grace the savages were their friends.

  For all this there was a price. Half of their company lay in unmarked graves. Each day they must labor, and watch by night against hunger and danger. Each day for a year, their tired eyes had watched the naked horizon and never a sail had come to bring them the promised supplies. Had they been utterly forgotten? Was there still an England?

  Suddenly a cannon shot signaled the workers in from the woods and clearings. A sail on the horizon! Soon an English ship had anchored in the harbor. All Plymouth was at the water’s edge to greet the men who stepped from the longboat. Their friend, Mr. Cushman, had come in the ship Fortune, bringing thirty-five lusty young men. Some were members of the Leyden Church; all were good workers for the fields, and soldiers for defense. They were given welcome and then eager attention as they told news of home and friends.

  Mr. Cushman delivered his letters to the Governor. It appeared that the Fortune had brought no supplies, not so much as a barrel of flour. The letter from the merchant Adventurers was full of reproaches. The Mayflower had been sent back empty to England. The company would lose money.

  “I know your weakness was the cause of it, and I believe more weakness of judgemente, than weakness of hands,” said the letter. The Fortune must bring back a profitable cargo or the Adventurers might not invest further in Plymouth Plantation. A new contract was enclosed for the signatures of the colonists. In it they practically bound themselves to slavery to the Adventurers for seven years. Reluctantly they signed it.

  In two weeks the Fortune sailed for England with a cargo of clapboard and two hogsheads of beaver skins. This fur was unknown in England and had been first brought to Plymouth by Squanto.

  As the Fortune’s sails faded on the horizon, the colonists turned back to their labor. It seemed that the Fortune was a name that mocked their hopes of supply and comfort from England.

  Of the Strange Message from Canonicus and Their Bold Reply

  An Indian runner had brought the strange token and departed as silently as he had come. The snake skin with its black and brown patterns lay on the table like an evil thing. The light glistened on its shining scales and six arrows protruded from its gaping mouth. The thing had some meaning that boded no good. It had been sent to the Pilgrims by Canonicus, Chief of the Narragansetts.

  At once Bradford sent for Squanto, Winslow, Brewster, Allerton, and Standish
. Squanto told them that the snake skin meant that Canonicus planned war upon them. It was a message of defiance. The Elders debated whether to ask for peace or answer in kind.

  Brewster contended they should send a message saying, “We would wish to have peace but if you want war, we are ready.”

  “Perhaps he will better understand this,” said Bradford, snatching the arrows from the rattlesnake skin and filling it with powder and shot.

  When the rattlesnake skin was returned to Canonicus he refused to accept or even touch it. He ordered it out of his sight, out of the village, out of his domain.

  “It is the terrible medicine with which the English destroy our people and take from us the lands of our fathers,” cried the terrified chieftain.

  The snake skin was refused by one awed chieftain after another until it was finally returned to Plymouth.

  Thanksgiving, 1621

  In the spring rain and summer sun, the green stalks of the Indian corn grew tall. The firm ears became full and heavy, two and three on each stalk. The corn silk turned brown on the end of each ear and every tall stalk waved its feathery tassels like an Indian chief. Under Squanto’s guidance, the Pilgrims hoed and tended the corn hills through the hot summer days. Health and strength came back to the invalids and no one was sick.

  The Bay teemed with shad, cod, mackerel, and herring. Squanto showed the Pilgrims how to take lobsters and eels. He led them to where oyster and clam beds were most abundant. When the summer was done, the hard golden ears of corn were reaped and stored.

  Now there was time to hunt in the forest. Flocks of fat wild turkeys trooped in the underbrush, and along the streams and marshes huge flocks of geese and ducks prepared for their southward flight. The black bears ambled under the oak trees seeking acorns, and the deer browsed on the southern slopes among the birch and pine trees.