«История Соединенных Штатов, Том 1»

attempt to regain control of the province, but was defeated at

Providence and taken prisoner. His life was spared, but four of his men

were condemned and executed. Baltimore again invoked the powerful

intervention of Cromwell, and again were the enemies of Maryland sternly

rebuked for their interference in the affairs of that province, and told

in plain language to leave matters as they had found them. In 1656,

after an inquiry by the Commissioners of Trade, the claims of Baltimore

were admitted to be just, and he promptly sent his brother Philip to be

a member of the council and secretary of the province. The legislation

of the usurping Puritans was set aside, religious toleration once more

had full sway, and a general pardon was proclaimed to those who had

taken part in the late disturbances.

In the meantime, Fendall, who had been appointed governor by Baltimore,

plotted to make himself independent of his master, and, with the

connivance of the assembly, proceeded to usurp the authority which was

lawfully vested in the proprietary. But the attempt was a miserable

failure. Philip Calvert was immediately made governor by the now

all-powerful proprietary, who had the favor and support of Charles II.,

just coming to the throne. Peace and prosperity came back to the colony

so sorely and frequently vexed by civil dissensions. The laws were just

and liberal, encouraging the advent of settlers of whatever creed, while

the rule of the Calverts was wise and benign, such as to merit the

respect and admiration of posterity. In 1643 Virginia and Maryland

together had less than twenty thousand inhabitants. In 1660 Maryland

alone, according to Fuller, had eight thousand. Chalmers thinks there

were no fewer than twelve thousand at this date.

CHAPTER VII.

NEW NETHERLAND

[1609]

While the French explorer, Champlain, was sailing along the shores of

the lake which bears his name, another equally adventurous spirit, Henry

Hudson, was on his way to the western world. Hoping to open a passage to

India by a voyage to the north, Hudson, an English navigator, offered in

1609 to sail under the authority of the Dutch East India Company. Driven

back by ice and fog from a northeast course, he turned northwest.

Searching up and down near the parallel of 40 degrees, he entered the

mouth of the great river which perpetuates his name. He found the

country inviting to the eye, and occupied by natives friendly in

disposition. The subsequent career of this bold mariner has a mournful

interest. He never returned to Holland, but, touching at Dartmouth, was

restrained by the English authorities, and forbidden longer to employ

his skill and experience for the benefit of the Dutch. Again entering

the English service and sent once more to discover the northwest

passage, he sailed into the waters of the bay which still bears his

name, where cold and hunger transformed the silent discontent of his

crew into open mutiny, and they left the fearless navigator to perish

amid the icebergs of the frozen north.

Seal of New Amsterdam.

Peter Stuyvesant.

[1614-1618]

Hudson had sent to Holland a report of the Great River and the country

bordering it, rich in fur-bearing animals, and it had excited eager

interest. Private individuals sent expeditions thither and carried on a

profitable trade with the natives. A few Dutch were here when, in 1613,

Captain Argall sailed from Virginia against the French at Port Royal,

Acadia, now Annapolis in Nova Scotia, who were encroaching upon the

English possessions on the coast of Maine. He compelled them to

surrender. On his return, he visited the Dutch traders of Manhattan

Island, and forced them also, as it had been discovered by Cabot in

1497, to acknowledge the sovereignty of England over this entire region.

Seal of New Netherland.

It was in 1614 that the Dutch States-General, in the charter given to a

company of merchants, named the Hudson Valley New Netherland. To

facilitate trade this company made a treaty with the Five Nations and

subordinate tribes, memorable as the first compact formed between the

whites and the savages. In it the Indians were regarded as possessing

equal rights and privileges with their white brethren. The treaty was

renewed in 1645, and continued in force till the English occupation,

1664. In 1618, the charter of the New Netherland Company having expired,

the Dutch West India Company was offered a limited incorporation, but it

was not until 1621 that it received its charter, and it was two years

later that it was completely organized and approved by the

States-General. By this company were sent out Mey, as Director, to the

Delaware or South River, and Tienpont to the Hudson or North River. Four

miles below Philadelphia Fort Nassau was erected, and where Albany now

stands was begun the trading-post called Fort Orange.

[1626]

In 1626 Tienpont's successor, Peter Minuit, a German, born at Wesel, was

appointed Director-General of New Netherland. He bought of the Indians,

for the sum of twenty-four dollars, the entire island of Manhattan, and

a fort called New Amsterdam was built. The State of New York dates its

beginning from this transaction.

Earliest Picture of New Amsterdam.

By their usually honest dealing with the natives the Dutch settlers

gained the friendship of the Five Nations, whose good-will was partly on

this account transferred to the English colonists later. The Dutch were

not only friendly to the red men, but tried to open social and

commercial relations with the Plymouth colonists as well. Governor

Bradford replied, mildly urging the Dutch to "clear their title" to a

territory which the English claimed by right of discovery.

[1630-1633]

De Vries.

The present State of Delaware soon became the scene of attempts at

settlement. De Vries began, in 1632, a colony on the banks of the

Delaware, but it was quickly laid waste by the savages, who had been

needlessly provoked by the insolence of the commander left in charge of

the colony. In 1633 Minuit was succeeded by Van Twiller, and a fort was

erected at Hartford, though the English claimed this country as theirs.

Emigrants from the Plymouth colony began the settlement of Windsor, in

spite of the protests of the Dutch. Long Island was invaded by

enterprising New Englanders, regardless of the claim of New Netherland

thereto.

Costumes of Swedes.

This "irrepressible conflict" between two races was by no means abated

by the introduction of a third. As early as 1626, Gustavus Adolphus,

King of Sweden and the hero of the Thirty Years' War, had entertained

the idea of establishing colonies in America, and in pursuance of that

object had encouraged the formation of a company, not only for trading

purposes but also to secure a refuge for the "oppressed of all

Christendom." To Usselinx, an Antwerp merchant, the originator of the

Dutch West India Company, belongs the honor of first suggesting to the

king this enterprise. The glorious death of Gustavus on the victorious

field of Lutzen in 1632 deferred the execution of a purpose which had

not been forgotten even in the midst of that long and arduous campaign.

But a few days before he fell, the Protestant hero had spoken of the

colonial prospect as "the jewel of his kingdom."

[1638]

In 1638 Minuit, who had already figured as governor of New Netherland,

having offered his services to Sweden, was intrusted with the leadership

of the first Swedish colony to America. After a few days' stay at

Jamestown the new-comers finally reached their wished-for destination on

the west shore of the Delaware Bay and River. Proceeding up the latter,

one of their first acts was to build a fort on a little stream about two

miles from its junction with the Delaware, which they named Fort

Christina, in honor of the young queen of Sweden. Near this spot stands

the present city of Wilmington. The country from Cape Henlopen to the

falls at Trenton received the title of New Sweden.

[1650]

It was in this very year that Kieft came to supersede Van Twiller, who

had given just cause for complaint by his eagerness to enrich himself at

the expense of the West India Company. During the administration of

Kieft occurred the long and doubtful conflict with the natives detailed

in the succeeding chapter. Arbitrary and exacting, he drove the Indians

to extremities, and involved the Dutch settlements in a war which for a

time threatened their destruction. Not till 1645 was peace

re-established, and in 1647 the unpopular governor was recalled. In 1647

not more than three hundred fighting men remained in the whole province.

Its total population was between fifteen hundred and two thousand. In

1652 New Amsterdam had a population of seven or eight hundred. In 1664

Stuyvesant put the number in the province at ten thousand, about fifteen

hundred of whom were in New Amsterdam.

The old Stadt Huys at New Amsterdam.

Illustration: European Provinces 1655. Map of the eastern North

America. Latitude 25 to 50 North, Longitude 75 to 95 West.

[1655-1663]

The next governor, Stuyvesant, was the last and much the ablest ruler

among those who directed the destinies of New Netherland. His

administration embraced a period of seventeen years, during which he

renewed the former friendly relations with the savages, made a treaty

with New England, giving up pretensions to Connecticut as well as

relinquishing the east end of Long Island, and compelled the Swedes, in

1655, to acknowledge the Dutch supremacy. It was while he was absent on

his expedition against the Swedes, leaving New Amsterdam unprotected,

that the river Indians, watchful of their opportunity, invaded and laid

waste the surrounding country. In 1663 the savages attacked the village

on the Esopus, now Kingston, and almost destroyed it. It was not until

the energetic governor made a vigorous campaign against the Esopus

tribe, whom he completely subdued, that peace was established on a firm

footing.

New Amsterdam in the middle of the Seventeenth Century.

The Duke of York, afterwards James II.

[1664]

But the Dutch sway in their little part of the New World was about to

end. The English had never given over their claim to the country by

virtue of their first discovery of the North American continent. The New

Netherlanders, tired of arbitrary rule, sighed for the larger freedom of

their New England neighbors. Therefore, when in 1664 Charles II. granted

to his brother, the Duke of York, the territory which the Dutch were

occupying, and sent a fleet to demand its submission, the English

invader was welcomed.

The Tomb of Stuyvesant. "In this Vault lies buried PETRUS

STUYVESANT late Captain Genral & Governor in Chief of Amsterdam, In New

Netherland now called New York and the Dutch West India Islands. Died

A.D. 1672 Aged 80 years."

Almost the only resistance came from the stout-hearted governor, who

could hardly be dissuaded from fighting the English single-handed, and

who signed the agreement to surrender only when his magistrates had, in

spite of him, agreed to the proposed terms. But the founders of the

Empire State have left an indelible impress upon the Union, which their

descendants have helped to strengthen and perpetuate. They were honest,

thrifty, devout, tolerant of the opinions of others. As Holland

sheltered the English Puritans from ecclesiastical intolerance, so New

Netherland welcomed within her borders the victims of New England

bigotry and narrowness.

CHAPTER VIII.

THE FIRST INDIAN WARS

[1637]

Troubles between the Indians and the whites arose so early as 1636. John

Oldham was murdered on Block Island by a party of Pequot Indians. Vane

of Massachusetts sent Endicott to inflict punishment. The Pequots in

turn attacked the fort at Saybrook, and in 1637 threatened Wethersfield.

They were planning a union with the Narragansets for the destruction of

the English, when Roger Williams informed the Massachusetts colony of

their designs and, at the urgent request of the governor and council,

hastened to the chief of the Narragansets and dissuaded him from

entering into the alliance.

The moment was critical. Captain Mason with about ninety English and

seventy Mohegans, under their sachem, Uncas (a sub chief, who with his

district, Mohegan, had rebelled against the Pequot sachem, Sassacus),

was sent from Hartford down the Connecticut River. Entering the Sound,

he sailed past the mouth of the Thames and anchored in Narragansett Bay,

at the foot of Tower Hill, near Point Judith. He knew that keen-eyed

scouts from the Pequot stronghold on the west bank of the Mystic River,

near Groton, had, as his three little ships skirted the shore, been

watching him, to give warning of his approach. He therefore resolved to

come upon the enemy from an unlooked-for quarter. This plan was directly

contrary to his instructions, which required him to land at the mouth of

the Thames and attack the fort from the west side. He hoped, marching

westward across the country, to take the enemy by surprise on their

unprotected rear, while the Indians, trusting in the strength of their

fort, as it fronted the west, should believe themselves secure.

Attack on the Fort of the Pequots on the Mystic River

"The figure of the Indians fort or Palizado in NEW ENGLAND And the maner

of the destroying It by Captayne Underhill and Captayne Manson"

Thirteen men had been sent back to the Thames with the vessels. Two

hundred Narragansets had joined the expedition, though their sachem,

Miantonomoh, thought the English too weak to fight the dreaded Pequots.

Mason's enterprise was admirably planned, and he was as fortunate as he

was bold and skilful. He divided his men into two parties. One, led by

Underhill, climbed the steep ascent on the south side of the Indian

village; the other, directed by Mason himself, mounted the northern

slope. The garrison was buried in slumber, made more profound by

carousals the preceding night. One Indian was heard to cry out

"Englishmen" before the volley of musketry from the attacking force told

that the white enemy had come. Mason entered a wigwam and fought, as did

the others, hand-to-hand with the now awakened and desperate foe. Coming

out with a firebrand and exclaiming "We must burn them," he set fire to

the wigwam. The flames were quickly carried through the fort by the

northeast wind. Underhill from his side applied powder. So rapidly did

the flames spread that the English had difficulty in making good their

escape, while the Pequots who escaped the sword were doomed to perish by

fire. In an hour's time from four hundred to six hundred had fallen,

more than half of them women and children. Of the Englishmen two were

killed and about twenty wounded. In this dreadful slaughter the

Narragansets had little share, for they had shown such fear that Mason

had said to Uncas, "Tell them not to fly, but stand at what distance

they please and see whether Englishmen will now fight or not."

Attack on the Pequot Fort.

With the approach of day three hundred Pequots advanced from a second

fort intending to fight, but they were struck with horror at the sight

of their dead fellow-warriors. Keeping the enemy at bay, the English

marched to the vessels, which had arrived at Pequot Harbor, and, placing

the wounded on board, continued their march to Saybrook. The remnant of

the Pequots sought to escape from the country, moving westward along the

Sound. Captain Stoughton, sent with one hundred and twenty Massachusetts

men, was guided by the Narragansets to a swamp in which a little band of

those hostile savages had hidden. The men were slain, offering little

resistance. The women and children were divided among the Indian allies

or sold into slavery by the colonists of Massachusetts Bay.

Mason and Stoughton together sailed from Saybrook along the shore, while

Uncas with his men tracked the fugitives by land. At Guilford a Pequot

sachem was entrapped, shot, and his head thrust into the crotch of an

oak-tree near the harbor, giving the place the name of Sachem's Head.

Near the town of Fairfield a last stand was made by the hunted redskins,

in a swamp, to which the English were guided by a renegade Pequot. The

tribe with whom the Pequots had taken shelter, also the women and

children, were allowed to give themselves up. The men were shot down or

broke through and escaped. The wife of Mononotto fell into the hands of

the English. This Indian squaw had once shown kindness to two captive

girls, and by Winthrop's orders she was kindly treated in return. The

Pequots, once so powerful, were well-nigh exterminated. Those taken

prisoners were spared only to be held in bondage, Mononotto's wife with

the rest. Some were absorbed by the Narragansets, others by the

Mohegans, while the settlers of Connecticut, upon whom the war had

fallen so heavily, came into possession of the Pequot land.

[l638]

For nearly forty years the New England colonies were not again molested,

the merciless vigor with which they had fought making a lasting

impression upon their blood-thirsty foes. The cruel slavery to which the

surviving natives were subjected, the English justified by the example

of the Jews in their treatment of the Canaanites.

Signature of Miantonomoh.

[1642]

The Narraganset chief, Miantonomoh, had become the friend and ally of

the English by a treaty ratified in 1636, mainly through the good

offices of Roger Williams, In 1638, after the destruction of the

Pequots, there was a new treaty, embracing Uncas with his bold Mohegans,

and stipulating that any quarrel between Miantonomoh and Uncas should be

referred to the English. In 1642 Miantonomoh was accused of plotting

against the English, and summoned before the General Court at Boston.

Though acquitted he vowed revenge upon Uncas as the instigator of the

charge. His friendship for Roger Williams, as also for Samuel Gorton,

the purchaser of Shawomet, or Warwick, R. I., which was claimed by

Massachusetts, had perhaps created a prejudice against him. At any rate,

when a quarrel arose between Uncas and Sequasson, Miantonomoh's friend

and ally, while the latter naturally sided with Sequasson, the

sympathies of the English were with Uncas, who had aided them against

the Pequots. With the consent of Connecticut and Massachusetts

Miantonomoh took the field against Uncas, who had attacked Sequasson. He

was defeated and taken prisoner. Carried to Hartford he was held to

await the decision of the Commissioners of the United Colonies at

Boston. They would not release him, yet had no valid ground for putting

him to death. The case was referred to five clergymen, and they voted

for his execution. For this purpose the commissioners gave orders to

turn the brave warrior over to Uncas, English witnesses to be present

and see that no cruelty was perpetrated. The sentence was carried into

effect near Norwich. Cutting a piece of flesh from the shoulder of his

murdered enemy, Uncas ate it with savage relish, declaring it to be the

sweetest meat he had ever tasted.

The Grave of Miantonomoh.

[1640-1643]

The Dutch, too, as we have to some extent seen already, felt the horrors

of Indian warfare. Kieft, the Dutch director-general, a man cruel,

avaricious, and obstinate, angered the red men by demanding tribute from

them as their protector, while he refused them guns or ammunition. The

savages replied that they had to their own cost shown kindness to the

Dutch when in need of food, but would not pay tribute. Kieft attacked.

Some of the Indians were killed and their crops destroyed. This roused

their revengeful passions to the utmost. The Raritan savages visited the

colony of De Vries, on Staten Island, with death and devastation. Reward

was offered for the head of anyone of the murderers. An Indian never

forgot an injury. The nephew of one of the natives who twenty years

before had been wantonly killed went to sell furs at Fort Amsterdam, and

while there revenged his uncle's murder by the slaughter of an

unoffending colonist. Spite of warlike preparations by Kieft and his

assembly in 1641-42, the tribe would not give up the culprit. The

following year another settler was knifed by a drunken Indian. Wampum

was indeed offered in atonement, while an indignant plea was urged by

the savages against the liquor traffic, which demoralized their young

men and rendered them dangerous alike to friend and foe. But

remonstrance and blood-money could not satisfy Kieft. At Pavonia and at

Corlaer's Hook [footnote: now in the New York City limits, just below

Broadway Ferry, East River] the Dutch fell venomously upon the sleeping

and unsuspecting enemy. Men, women, and children were slaughtered, none

spared. In turn the tribes along the lower Hudson, to the number of

eleven, united and desperately attacked the Dutch wherever found. Only

near the walls of Fort Amsterdam was there safety. The governor

appointed a day of fasting, which it seems was kept with effect. The

sale of liquor to the red men was at last prohibited, and peace for a

time secured.

Soon, however, the redskins along the Hudson were again up in arms. The

noted Underhill, who with Mason had been the scourge of the Pequots,

came to the fight with fifty Englishmen as allies of the Dutch. Not

waiting to be attacked, the Indians laid waste the settlements, even

threatening Fort Amsterdam itself. At a place now known as Pelham Neck,

near New Rochelle, lived the famous but unfortunate Mrs. Hutchinson, a

fugitive from the persecuting zeal of Massachusetts. Here the implacable

savages butchered her and her family in cold blood. Her little

granddaughter alone was spared, and led captive to a far-off wigwam

prison. Only at Gravesend, on Long Island, was a successful stand made,

and that by a woman, Lady Deborah Moody, another exile from religious

persecution, who with forty stout-hearted men defended her plantation

and compelled the savages to beat a retreat.

[1645]

The colony was in extremity. New Haven refused to aid, because, as a

member of the New England confederacy, it could not act alone, and

because it was not satisfied that the Dutch war was just. An appeal was

made by Kieft's eight advisers to both the States-General and the West

India Company in Holland. The sad condition of the colonists was fully

set forth, and the responsibility directly ascribed to the mismanagement

of Kieft. At the same time, undismayed by the gloomy outlook, the

courage of the sturdy Dutchmen rose with the emergency. Small parties

were sent out against the Connecticut savages in the vicinity of

Stamford. Indian villages on Long Island were surprised and the natives

put to the sword. In two instances at least the victors disgraced

humanity by torturing the captured.

In these engagements Underhill was conspicuous and most energetic.

Having made himself familiar with the position of the Indians near

Stamford, he sailed from Manhattan with one hundred and fifty men,

landed at Greenwich, and, marching all day, at midnight drew near the

enemy. His approach was not wholly unannounced, for the moon was full.

The fight was desperate and bloody. The tragedy that had made memorable

the banks of the Mystic in the destruction of the Pequot fort was now

almost equalled. After the example of his old comrade Mason, Underhill

fired the village. By flame, shot, or sword more than five hundred human

beings perished.

While New Netherland was awaiting some message of cheer from Holland, a

company of Dutch soldiers came from Curacoa, but they did little to

follow up the successes already gained. Again the Eight sent a memorial

to the company, boldly condemning the conduct of the director and

demanding his recall. Their remonstrances were at last heeded, and the

removal of the unpopular governor resolved upon. In 1647 Kieft set sail

for Holland, but the ship was wrecked, and he with nearly all on board

was drowned.

It was high time for a change. In the two years, 1643-45, while sixteen

hundred Indians had been slain, Manhattan had become nearly depopulated.

In 1645 peace was concluded, not only with the smaller tribes in the

vicinity, but also with the powerful Mohawks about Fort Orange, and

finally with all the Indians belonging to the Five Nations or

acknowledging their authority. A pleasing incident of this treaty was

the promise of the Indians to restore the eight-year-old granddaughter

of Mrs. Hutchinson, a promise which they faithfully performed in 1646.

The great compact was made under the shadow of the Fort Amsterdam walls,

and the universal joy was expressed by a day of thanksgiving.

Totem or Tribe Mark of the Five Nations.

[1650-1660]

An interval of peace for ten years was now enjoyed, when the killing of

a squaw for stealing some peaches led to an attack by several hundred of

the infuriated savages upon New Amsterdam. They were repulsed here, but

crossing to the shore of New Jersey they laid waste the settlements

there. Staten Island, too, was swept with fire and sword. One hundred

people were slain, 150 more taken captive, 300 made homeless. Peace was

again effected and maintained for three years, when fresh quarrels

began. It was not until 1660 that a more general and lasting treaty was

brought about, on which occasion a Mohawk and a Minqua chief gave

pledges in behalf of the Indians, and acted as mediators between the

contending parties.

PERIOD II.

ENGLISH AMERICA TILL THE END OF THE FRENCH AND INDIAN WAR

1660--1763

CHAPTER I.

NEW ENGLAND UNDER THE LAST STUARTS

[1660]

The Commonwealth in England went to pieces at the death of Oliver

Cromwell, its founder. The Stuart dynasty came back, but, alas!

unimproved. Charles II. was a much meaner man than his father, and James

II. was more detestable still. The rule of such kings was destined to

work sad changes in the hitherto free condition of Massachusetts. This

colony had sympathized with the Commonwealth more heartily than any of

the others. Hither had fled for refuge Goffe and Whalley, two of the

accomplices in the death of Charles I. Congregational church polity was

here established by law, to the exclusion of all others, even of

episcopacy, for whose sake Charles was harrying poor Covenanters to

death on every hillside in Scotland. Nor would his lawyers let the king

forget Charles I.'s attack on the Massachusetts charter, begun so early

as 1635, or the grounds therefor, such as the unwarranted transfer of it

to Boston, or the likelihood that but for the outbreak of the Civil War

it would have been annulled by the Long Parliament itself. Obviously

Massachusetts could not hope to be let alone by the home government

which had just come in.

At first the king, graciously responding to the colony's humble

petition, confirmed the charter granted by his father; but no sooner had

he done so than the hot royalists about him began plotting to overthrow

the same, and their purpose never slumbered till it was accomplished.

Massachusetts was too prosperous and too visibly destined for great

power in America to be suffered longer to go its independent way as

hitherto.

King Charles II.

[1661]

The province--as yet, of course, excluding Plymouth with its twelve

towns and five thousand inhabitants--contained at this time, 1660, about

twenty-five thousand souls, living in fifty-two towns. These were nearly

all on the coast; Dedham, Concord, Brookfield, Lancaster, Marlborough,

and the Connecticut Valley hamlets of Springfield, Hadley, and

Northampton being the most noteworthy exceptions. Though agriculture was

the principal business, fishing was a staple industry, its product going

to France, Spain, and the Straits. Pipe-staves, fir-boards, much

material for ships, as masts, pitch and tar, also pork and beef, horses

and corn, were shipped from this colony to Virginia, in return for

tobacco and sugar either for home consumption or for export to England.

Some iron was manufactured. The province enjoyed great prosperity.

Boston stood forth as a lively and growing centre, and an English

traveller about this time declared some of its merchants to be "damnable

rich."

As their most precious possession the colonists prized their liberties,

which they claimed in virtue of their original patent. In a paper which

it put forth on June 10, 1661, the General Court asserted for the colony

the right to elect and empower its own officers, both high and low, to

make its laws, to execute the same without appeal so long as they were

not repugnant to those of England, and to defend itself by force and

arms when necessary, against every infringement of its rights, even from

acts of Parliament or of the king, if prejudicial to the country or

contrary to just colonial legislation. In a word Massachusetts, even so

early, regarded itself to all intents and purposes an independent State,

and would have proclaimed accordingly had it felt sufficiently strong.

[1664]

Manifestly the king would not grant so much. On the occasion of his

confirming the charter he demanded that the oath of allegiance be taken

by the people of the colony; that justice be administered there in his

name; and that the franchise be extended to all freemen of sufficient

substance, with the liberty to use in worship, public and private, the

forms of the English Church. The people obeyed but in part, for they

would not even appear to admit the king's will to be their law. The

franchise was slightly extended, in a grudging way, but no new religious

privileges were at this time conceded. Unfortunately political and

religious liberty were now in conflict. It was worse for the Baptists

and Quakers that the king favored them, and the treatment which they

received in the colony inclined them to the royalist side in the

controversy.

In July, 1664, commissioners arrived in Boston with full authority to

investigate the administration of the New England charters. Such a

procedure not being provided for in the Massachusetts document, the

General Court, backed by the citizens almost to a man, successfully

prevented complainants from appearing before the commission. The

commissioners having summoned the colony as defendant in a certain case,

a herald trumpeted proclamation through the streets, on the morning set

for the trial, inhibiting all from aiding their designs. The trial

collapsed, and the gentlemen who had ordered it, baffled and disgusted,

moved on to New Hampshire, there also to be balked by a decree of the

Massachusetts Governor and Council forbidding the towns so much as to

meet at their behest.

[1668]

Vengeance for such defiance was delayed by Charles II.'s very vices.

Clarendon's fall had left him surrounded by profligate aides, too timid

and too indolent to face the resolute men of Massachusetts. They often

discussed the contumacy of the colony, but went no further than words.

Massachusetts was even encouraged, in 1668, forcibly to reassert its

authority in Maine, against rule either by the king or by Sir Ferdinanda

Gorges's heir as proprietary.

Its charter had assigned to the colony land to a point three miles north

of the Merrimac. Bold in the favor of the Commonwealth, the authorities

measured from the head-waters of that river. But Plymouth had originally

claimed all the territory west of the Kennebec, and had sold it to

Gorges. Charles II. favored the Gorges heirs against Massachusetts, and

for some years previous to 1668 Massachusetts' power over Maine had been

in abeyance. Ten years later, in 1678, to make assurance doubly sure,

Massachusetts bought off the Gorges claimants, at the round price of

twelve hundred and fifty pounds sterling.

[1673]

From 1641 Massachusetts had borne sway in New Hampshire as well,

ignoring John Mason's claim under Charles I.'s charters of 1629 and

1635, still urged by one of Mason's grandsons, backed by Charles II.

Here Massachusetts was beaten. In July, 1679, New Hampshire was

permanently separated from her, and erected into a royal province, of a

nature to be explained in a subsequent chapter, being the earliest

government of this kind in New England.

[1662]

These territorial assumptions on the part of Massachusetts much

increased the king's hostility. This probably would not have proved

fatal had it not been re-enforced by the determination of the merchants

and manufacturers of the mother-country to crush what they feared was

becoming a rival power beyond seas. They insisted upon full enforcement

of the Navigation Laws, which made America's foreign trade in a cruel

degree subservient to English interest. So incorrigible was the colony,

it was found that this end could be compassed only by the abrogation of

the charter, so that English law might become immediately valid in

Massachusetts, colonial laws to the contrary notwithstanding.

Accordingly, in 1684, the charter was vacated and the colonists ceased

to be free, their old government with its popular representation giving

way to an arbitrary commission.

The other New England colonies--Plymouth, Rhode Island, Connecticut, and

New Haven--had made haste to proclaim Charles II. so soon as restored to

the throne, and to begin carrying on their governments in his name. That

beautiful and able man, the younger Winthrop, sped to London on

Connecticut's behalf, and, aided by his colony's friends at court, the

Earls of Clarendon and Manchester and Viscount Say and Seal, in 1662

secured to Connecticut, now made to include New Haven, a charter so

liberal that it continued till October 5, 1818, the ground law of the

State, then to be supplanted only by a close vote. Under this paper,

which declared all lands between the Narragansett River and the Pacific

Ocean Connecticut territory, Connecticut received every whit of that

right to govern itself which Charles was so sternly challenging in the

case of Massachusetts.

John Winthrop the Younger.

From this time on, as indeed earlier, Connecticut was for many years

perhaps the most delightful example of popular government in all

history. Connecticut and New Haven together had about ten thousand

inhabitants. Their rulers were just, wise, and of a mind truly to serve

the people. Here none were persecuted for their faith. Education was

universal. Few were poor, none very rich. Nearly all supplies were of

domestic production, nothing as yet being exported but a few cattle.

Under the second Charles Rhode Island fared quite as well as

Connecticut. This was remarkable, inasmuch as the little colony of three

thousand souls, in their four towns of Providence, Newport, Portsmouth,

and Warwick, insisted on "holding forth the lively experiment"--and it

proved lively indeed--"of full liberty in religious concernments."

Charles did not oppose this, and Clarendon favored it, a motive of both

here, as with Connecticut, being to rear in New England a power friendly

to the Crown, that should rival and check Massachusetts. Both these

commonwealths were granted absolute independence in all but name. No

oath of allegiance to the king was demanded. Appeals to England were not

provided for.

[1680]

Though having no quarrel with the king, the two southern colonies were

not without their trials. Connecticut, besides continual fear of the

Dutch and the Indians, was much agitated by the controversy over the

question whether children of moral parents not church members should be

baptized, a question at length settled affirmatively by the so-called

Half-Way Covenant. It also had its boundary disputes with Massachusetts,

with Rhode Island--for Connecticut took the Narragansett River of its

charter to be the bay of that name--and with New York, which, by the

Duke of York's new patent, issued on the recovery of that province from

the Dutch in 1674, reached the Connecticut River. During England's war

with Holland, 1672-74, all the colonies stood in some fear of Dutch

attacks.

[1685]

Rhode Island had worse troubles than Connecticut. It, too, had boundary

disputes, serious and perpetual; but graver by much were its internal

feuds, caused partly by the mutual jealousy of its four towns, partly by

the numerous and jarring religious persuasions here represented.

Government was painfully feeble. Only with utmost difficulty could the

necessary taxes be raised. Warwick in particular was for some time in

arrears to John Clark, of Newport, for his invaluable services in

securing the charter of 1663. Quakers and the divers sorts of Baptists

valiantly warred each against other, using, with dreadful address, those

most deadly of carnal weapons, tongue and pen. On George Fox's visit to

the colony, Roger Williams, zealous for a debate, pursued the eminent

Quaker from Providence to Newport, rowing thither in his canoe and

arriving at midnight, only to find that his intended opponent had

departed, The latter's champion was ready, however, and a discussion of

four days ensued.

Sir Edmond Andros.

Before its sentence of death reached Massachusetts Charles II. was no

more, and James II., his brother, had ascended the throne. It was for a

time uncertain what sort of authority the stricken colony would be

called to accept. Already, as Duke of York, James II. had been

Proprietary of Maine east of the Kennebec (Sagadahoc), as well as of

Delaware, New Jersey, and New York. Now that he had the problem of

ruling Massachusetts to solve, it naturally occurred to the king to make

Sir Edmond Andros, already governor of New York, master also over the

whole of English America from the Saint Croix to the Delaware.

In southern New England the reign of Andros wrought no downright

persecution. He suspended the charters, and, with an irresponsible

council in each colony, assumed all legislative as well as

administrative power. Rhode Island submitted tamely. Her sister colony

did the same, save that, at Hartford, according to good tradition, in

the midst of the altercation about delivering the charter, prolonged

into candle-light, suddenly it was dark, and the precious document

disappeared to a secure place in the hollow trunk of an oak. This tree,

henceforth called the Charter Oak, stood till prostrated by a gale on

August 20, 1856.

The Charter Oak at Hartford.

But in Massachusetts the colonists' worst fears were realized. Andros,

with a council of his own creation, made laws, levied taxes, and

controlled the militia. He had authority to suppress all

printing-presses and to encourage Episcopacy. In the latter interest he

opened King's Chapel to the Prayer Book. His permission was required for

any one to leave the colony. Extortionate fees and taxes were imposed.

Puritans had to swear on the Bible, which they regarded wicked, or be

disfranchised. Personal and proprietary rights were summarily set at

naught, and all deeds to land were declared void till renewed--for

money, of course. The citizens were reduced to a condition hardly short

of slavery.

[1688]

There is no describing the joy which pervaded New England as the news of

the Revolution of 1688 flew from colony to colony. Andros slunk away

from Boston, glad to escape alive. Drums beat and gala-day was kept. Old

magistrates were reinstated. Town meetings were resumed. All believed

that God had interposed, in answer to prayer, to bring deliverance to

his people from popery and thraldom.

This revolution, ushering in the liberal monarchy of William and Mary,

restored to Rhode Island and Connecticut their old charter governments

in full. New Hampshire, after a momentary union with Massachusetts

again, became once more a royal province. As to Massachusetts itself, a

large party of the citizens now either did not wish the old state of

things renewed, or were too timid to agree in demanding back their

charter as of right. Had they been bold and united, they might have

succeeded in this without any opposition from the Crown. Instead, a new

charter was conferred, creating Massachusetts also a royal province, yet

with government more liberal than the other provinces of this order

enjoyed. The governor was appointed by the Crown, and could convene,

adjourn, or dissolve the Legislature. With the consent of his council he

also created the judges, from whose highest sentence appeal could be

taken to the Privy Council. The governor could veto legislation, and the

king annul any law under three years old.

[1690-1697]

If in these things the new polity was inferior to the old, in two

respects it was superior; Suffrage was now practically universal, and

every species of religious profession, save Catholicism, made legal.

Also, Massachusetts territory was enlarged southward to take in all

Plymouth, eastward to embrace Maine (Sagadahoc) and Nova Scotia. Maine,

henceforth including Sagadahoc, that is, all land eastward to the Saint

Croix, remained part of Massachusetts till March 15, 1820, when it

became a member of the Union by itself. Nova Scotia, over which Phips's

conquest of Port Royal in 1690 had established a nominal rather than a

real English authority, was assigned to France again by the Treaty of

Ryswick, 1697.

Box in which the Connecticut Charter was kept.

CHAPTER II.

KING PHILIP'S WAR

[1675]

Simultaneously with the Stuart Restoration another cloud darkened the

New England sky. Since the Pequot War, Indians and whites had in the

main been friendly. This by itself is proof that our fathers were less

unjust to the red men than is sometimes charged. They did assume the

right to acquire lands here, and they had this right. The Indians were

not in any proper sense owners of New England. They were few--by 1660

not more numerous than the pale-faces--and, far from settling or

occupying the land, roamed from place to place. Had it been otherwise

they, as barbarians, would have had no such claim upon the territory as

to justify them in barring out civilization. However, the colonists did

not plead this consideration. Whenever districts were desired to which

Indians had any obvious title, it was both law and custom to pay them

their price. In this, Roger Williams and William Penn were not peculiar.

If individual white men sometimes cheated in land trades, as in other

negotiations, the aggrieved side could not, and did not, regard this as

the white man's policy.

Yet little by little the Indians came to distrust and hate the rival

race. It did not matter to the son of the forest, even if he thought so

far, that the neighborhood of civilization greatly bettered his lot in

many things, as, for instance, giving him market for corn and peltry,

which he could exchange for fire-arms, blankets, and all sorts of

valuable conveniences. The efforts to teach and elevate him he

appreciated still less. As has been said, he loved better to disfurnish

the outside of other people's heads than to furnish the inside of his

own. What he felt, and keenly, was that the newcomers treated him as an

inferior, were day by day narrowing his range, and slowly but surely

reducing his condition to that of a subject people. Dull as he was, he

saw that one of three fates confronted him: to perish, to migrate, or to

lay aside his savage character and mode of life. Such thoughts frenzied

him.

The beautiful fidelity of Massasoit to the people of Plymouth is already

familiar. His son Alexander, who succeeded him, was of a spirit

diametrically the reverse. Convinced that he was plotting with the

Narragansets for hostile action, the Governor and Council of Plymouth

sent Major Winslow to bring him to court--for it must be remembered that

Massasoit's tribe, the Pokanokets, had through him covenanted, though

probably with no clear idea of what this meant, to be subject to the

Plymouth government. Alexander, for some reason, became fatally ill

while at Plymouth under arrest, dying before reaching home. The Indians

suspected poison.

His brother Philip now became sachem. Philip already had a grudge

against the whites, and was rendered trebly bitter by the indignity and

violence, if nothing worse, to which Alexander had been subjected. He

resolved upon war, and in 1675 war was begun.

We shall never certainly know to what extent Philip was an organizer. We

believe correct the view of Hubbard, the contemporary historian, that he

had prepared a wide-spread and pretty well arranged conspiracy among

the main tribes of New England Indians, which might have been fatal but

for "the special providence of God," causing hostilities to break out

ere the savages were ready. Palfrey challenges this view of the case,

but on insufficient grounds.

One Sausaman, an educated Indian, previously Philip's secretary, had

left him and joined the Christian Indians settled at Natick. There were

by this time several such communities, and also, according to Cotton

Mather, many able Indian preachers. At the risk of his life, as he

insisted, Sausaman had warned the Plymouth magistrates that danger

impended. He was soon murdered, apparently by Philip's instigation. At

least Philip never denied this, nor did he after this time ever again

court friendly relations with Plymouth, which he had constantly done

hitherto. On the contrary, re-enforcements of strange Indians, all ready

for the war-path, were continually flocking to his camp, squaws and

children at the same time going to the Narraganset country, manifestly

for security.

The Plymouth authorities, preparing for war, yet sent a kind letter to

the sachem advising him to peace. In vain. At Swanzey, the town nearest

Mount Hope, Philip's home, Indians at once began to kill and ravage, and

Majors Bradford and Cudworth marched thither with a force of Plymouth

soldiers. A Massachusetts contingent re-enforced them there, and they

prepared to advance. Seeing it impossible to hold his own against so

many, Philip crossed to Pocasset, now Tiverton, and swept rapidly round

to Dartmouth, Middleborough, and Taunton, burning and murdering as he

went. He then retired again to Tiverton, but in a few days started with

all his warriors for central Massachusetts.

Here the Nipmucks, already at war, which indicated an understanding

between them and the Pokanokets, had attacked Mendon. The day after

Philip joined them there was a fight at Brookfield, the Nipmucks and

their allies being victorious. They proceeded to burn the town nearly

entire, though the inhabitants who survived, after a three days' siege

in a fortified house, were relieved by troops from Boston just in the

nick of time.

The Connecticut Valley was next the theatre of war. Springfield,

Hatfield, Deerfield, and Northfield were attacked the last two having to

be abandoned. At Hadley the onset occurred on a fast-day. The men rushed

from their worship with their muskets, which were ready to hand in

church, and hastily formed for battle. Bewildered by the unexpected

assault, they were on the point of yielding, when, according to

tradition, an aged hero with long beard and queer clothing appeared,

placed himself at their head and directed their movements. His evident

acquaintance with fighting restored order and courage. The savages were

driven pell-mell out of town, but the pursuers looked in vain for their

deliverer. If the account is correct, it was the regicide, General

Goffe, who had been a secret guest in the house of the Rev. Mr. Russell.

He could not in such danger refrain from engaging once again, as he had

so often done during the Civil War in England, in the defence of God's

people.

From Hadley a party went to Deerfield to bring in the wheat that had

been left when the town was deserted. Ninety picked men, the "flower of

Essex," led by Captain Lothrop, attended the wagons as convoy. On their

return, about seven o'clock in the morning, by a little stream in the

present village of South Deerfield, since called Bloody Brook in memory

of the event, the soldiers dispersed somewhat in quest of grapes, then

ripe, when a sudden and fatal volley from an ambush was delivered upon

them. The men had left their muskets in the wagons and could not regain

them. Lothrop was shot dead, and but seven or eight of his company

escaped alive. A monument marks the spot where this tragic affair

occurred.

The Monument at Bloody Brook.

So early as July, 1675, Massachusetts and Connecticut, acting for the

New England Confederation, had effected a treaty with the strong tribe

of the Narragansets in southern Rhode Island, engaging them to remain

neutral and to surrender any of Philip's men coming within their

jurisdiction. This agreement they did not keep. After the attacks on

Springfield and Hatfield in October, great numbers of the Pokanoket

braves came to them, evidently welcomed. To prevent their becoming a

centre of mischief, Connecticut, Massachusetts, and Plymouth despatched

a thousand men to punish the Narragansets. They met the foe at the old

Palisade, in the midst of a dense swamp in what is now South Kingstown,

Rhode Island. The terrible cold which rendered this Narraganset campaign

so severe had turned the marsh into a bridge, and at once on their

arrival the soldiers, weary and hungry as they were from their long

march, and spite of its being Sunday, advanced to the attack.

Massachusetts was in front, then Plymouth, then Connecticut. Long and

bitter was the fight. The Indians, perfect marksmen, took deadly aim at

the leaders. Five captains were killed outright and as many more

mortally wounded. The fort was taken, re-taken, and taken again, the

whites at last, to make sure work, setting fire to the wigwams. The

storming party lost in killed and wounded one-fifth of its number. This

Swamp Fight, as it was called, broke forever the strength of the

Narragansets, the tribe and its allies dispersing in all directions.

Goffe at Hadley.

[1676]

In 1676 central Massachusetts was again aflame. Lancaster was sacked and

burned, its inhabitants nearly all either carried captive or put to

death with indescribable atrocities. Mrs. Rowlandson, wife of the

Lancaster Minister, also her son and two daughters, were among the

captives. We have this brave woman's story as subsequently detailed by

herself. Her youngest, a little girl of six, wounded by a bullet, she

bore in her arms wherever they marched, till the poor creature died of

cold, starvation, and lack of care. The agonized mother begged the

privilege of tugging along the corpse, but was refused. She with her son

and living daughter were ransomed, after wandering up and down with the

savages eleven weeks and five days.

From Mrs. Rowlandson's narrative we have many interesting facts touching

the Indians' habits of life. They carried ample stores from Lancaster,

but soon squandered them, and were reduced to a diet of garbage, horses'

entrails, ears, and liver, with broth made of horses' feet and legs. The

liver they seemed to prefer raw. Their chief food was ground-nuts. They

also ate acorns, artichokes, beans, and various sorts of roots. They

especially delighted in old bones, which, being heated to drive out

maggots and worms, they first boiled for soup, then ground for use as

meal.

The captive lady often saw Philip. At his request she made a shirt and a

cap for his son, for which he paid her. Says Hubbard, "Such was the

goodness of God to these poor captive women and children that they found

so much favor in the sight of their enemies that they offered no wrong

to any of their persons save what they could not help, being in many

wants themselves. Neither did they offer any uncivil carriage to any of

the females, nor ever attempt the chastity of any of them." So soon as

negotiations were opened for Mrs. Rowlandson's release, Philip told her

of this, and expressed the hope that they would succeed. When her ransom

had arrived he met her with a smile, saying: "I have pleasant words for

you this morning; would you like to hear them? You are to go home

to-morrow," Twenty pounds were paid for her, raised by some ladies of

Boston, aided by a Mr. Usher.

Hostilities now bore southeastward. Philip was in his glory. All the

towns of Rhode Island and eastern Massachusetts were in terror, nearly

all in actual danger. At Medfield twenty whites were killed. Deserted

Mendon was burned. Weymouth was attacked, and eleven persons were

massacred in the edge of Plymouth. In Groton and Marlborough every house

was laid in ashes, as were all in lower Rhode Island up to Warwick, and

in Warwick all but one. Sachem Canonchet of the Narragansets drew into

ambush at Pawtuxet a band of Plymouth soldiers, of whom only one

escaped. Canonchet was subsequently taken by Captain Denison and

executed. Rehoboth lost forty houses, Providence nearly as many.

The Connecticut Valley was invaded afresh. Springfield, Hadley,

Northampton, and Hatfield were once more startled by the war-whoop and

the whiz of the tomahawk. Captain Turner, hearing of an Indian camp at

the falls of the Connecticut, now called by his name, in Montague,

advanced with a troop of one hundred and eighty horse, arriving in sight

of the encampment at daylight. Dismounting and proceeding stealthily to

within sure shot, they beat up the Indians' quarters with a ringing

volley of musketry. Resistance was impossible. Those who did not fall by

bullet or sword rushed to the river, many being carried over the falls.

Three hundred savages perished, the English losing but one man. A large

stock of the enemy's food and ammunition was also destroyed. Though so

splendidly successful, the party did not return to Hadley without

considerable loss, being set upon much of the way by Indians who had

heard the firing at the falls and sped to the relief of their friends.

Turner was killed in the meadows by Green River; his subordinate,

Holyoke, then commanding the retreat.

[1678]

Turner's victory brought the war to a crisis. The red men lacked

resources. The whites had learned the secrets of savage warfare. They

could no longer be led into ambush, while their foe at no time during

the war ventured to engage them in open field. Large parties of Indians

began to surrender; many roving bands were captured. Hostilities

continued still many months in Maine, the whites more and more uniformly

successful, till the Treaty of Casco, April 12, 1678, at last terminated

the war.

Hunted by the English backward and forward, Philip was at last driven to

his old home upon Mount Hope. Here Captain Church, one of the most

practised of Indian fighters, surprised him on the morning of August 12,

1676, encamped upon a little upland, which it is believed has been

exactly identified near a swamp at the foot of the mountain. By

residents in the neighborhood it is known as Little Guinea. At the first

firing Philip, but partially dressed, seized gun and powder-horn and

made for the swamp, Captain Church's ambush was directly in his front.

An Englishman's piece missed fire, but an Indian sent a bullet through

the Great Sachem's heart.

In this fearful war at least six hundred of the English inhabitants

either fell in battle or were murdered by the enemy, A dozen or more

towns were utterly destroyed, others greatly damaged, Some six hundred

buildings, chiefly dwelling-houses, were consumed by fire, and over a

hundred thousand pounds of colonial money expended, to say nothing of

the immense losses in goods and cattle.

Not without propriety has the Pokanoket chief been denominated a king.