We are not informed whether the father recovered of his wounds. Some distant neighbors, receiving tidings of the attack, came with succor, and the six dead Indians, without much ceremony, were tumbled into a hole.
Volumes might be filled with such terrible details. No one could sleep at night without the fear of an attack from the Indians before the morning. In the silence of the wilderness, many a tragedy was enacted of terror, torture, and blood, which would cause the ear that hears of it to tingle.
The day after the arrival of the English force in Swanzey the Indians again appeared in large numbers, and with defiant shouts dared them to come out and fight. Philip himself was with this band. A party of volunteers rushed furiously upon the foe, killed a number, and pursued the rest more than a mile. The savages retired to their fastnesses, and the English traversed Mount Hope Neck until they came to the imperial residence of Philip. Not an Indian was to be found upon the Neck. But here the English found the heads of eight of their countrymen, which had been cut off and stuck upon poles, ghastly trophies of savage victory. They took them down and reverently buried them.
It was now the 29th of June, and the Indian corn-fields were waving in luxuriant growth. Philip had not antic.i.p.ated so early an outbreak of the war, and had more than a thousand acres planted with corn. These fields the English trampled down, and destroyed all the dwellings of the Indians, leaving the Neck barren and desolate. This was a heavy blow to Philip. The destruction of his corn-fields threatened him with starvation in the winter. The Indians scattered in all directions, carrying every where terror, conflagration, and death.
Captain Church, with twenty men, crossed the Taunton River, and then followed down the eastern sh.o.r.es of the bay, through Poka.s.set, the territory of Wetamoo, toward Sogkonate Neck, where Awashonks reigned.
At the southern extremity of the present town of Tiverton they came to a neck of land called Punkateeset. Here they discovered a fresh trail, which showed that a large body of Indians had recently pa.s.sed.
Following this trail, they came to a large pea-field belonging to Captain Almy, a colonist who had settled there. They loitered a short time in the field, eating the peas. The forest, almost impenetrable with underbrush, grew very densely around. Just as they were emerging from the field upon an open piece of ground, with the woods growing very thickly upon one side, a sudden discharge of musketry broke in upon the silent air, and bullets were every where whistling fiercely around them. Instantly three hundred Indians sprang up from their ambush. Captain Church "casting his eyes to the side of the hill above him, the hill seemed to move, being covered with Indians, with their bright guns glistening in the sun, and running in a circ.u.mference, with a design to surround them." Captain Church and his men slowly retreated toward the sh.o.r.e, where alone they could prevent themselves from being surrounded. The Indians, outnumbering them fifteen to one, closely pressed them, making the forest resound with their hideous outcries.
As the savages emerged from their ambush, they followed at a cautious distance, but so directed their steps as to cut off all possibility of retreat from the Neck. They felt so sure of their victims that they thought that all could be killed or captured without any loss upon their own part.
The situation of the English now seemed desperate. They had no means of crossing the water, and the exultant foe, in overwhelming numbers and with fiendlike yells, were pressing nearer and nearer, and overwhelming them with a storm of bullets.
But the colonists resolved to sell their lives as dearly as possible.
It was better to die by the quick ministry of the bullet, than to fall as captives into the hands of the savages, to perish by lingering torment. Fortunately, the ground was very stony, and every man instantly threw up a pile for a breastwork. The Indians were very cautious in presenting their bodies to the unerring aim of the white men, and did not venture upon a simultaneous rush, which would have secured the destruction of the whole of Captain Church"s party.
For six hours the colonists beat back their swarming foes. The Indians availed themselves of every stump, rock, or tree in sight, and kept up an incessant firing. Just as the ammunition of the colonists was about exhausted, and night was coming on, a sloop was discerned crossing the water to their rescue. Captain Golding, a man of great resolution and fearlessness, had heard the firing, and was hastening to their relief. The wind was fair, and as the vessel approached the sh.o.r.e the Indians plied their shot with such effect that the colors, sails, and sides of the sloop were soon pierced full of bullet holes. The water was so shoal that they dropped anchor, and the vessel rode afloat several rods from the beach. Captain Golding had a small canoe, which would support but two men. Attaching a cord to this, he let it drift to the sh.o.r.e, driven by the fresh wind. Two men entered the canoe, and were drawn on board. The canoe was then returned, and two more were taken on board. Thus the embarkation continued, covered by the muskets of those on board and those on the sh.o.r.e, until every man was safe.
Not one of their number was even wounded. The English, very skillful with the musket, kept their innumerable foes at a distance. It was certain death for any Indian to step from behind his rampart. The heroic Church was the last to embark. As he was retreating backward, boldly facing his foes, presenting his gun, which all the remaining powder he had did but half charge, a bullet pa.s.sed through his hat, cutting off a lock of his hair. Two others struck the canoe as he entered it, and a fourth buried itself in a stake which accidentally stood before the middle of his breast. Discharging his farewell shot at the enemy, he was safely received on board, and they were all conveyed to the English garrison which had been established at Mount Hope. Many Indians were killed or wounded in this affray, but it is not known how many.
[Ill.u.s.tration: THE BATTLE IN TIVERTON.]
Captain Church then went, with a small army, to ravage the territories of Wetamoo. When he arrived at the spot where Fall River now stands, he found that Wetamoo, with her warriors, had taken refuge in a neighboring swamp. Just then news came that a great part of the town of Dartmouth was in flames, that many of the inhabitants were killed, and that the survivors were in great distress. Captain Church marched immediately to their rescue. But the foe had finished his work of destruction, and had fled into the wilderness, to emerge at some other spot, no one could tell where, and strike another deadly blow. The colonists, however, took one hundred and sixty Indians prisoners, who had been induced by promises of kind treatment to come in and surrender themselves. To the extreme indignation of Captain Church, all these people, in most dishonorable disregard of the pledges of the capitulation, were by the Plymouth authorities sold into slavery. This act was as impolitic as it was criminal. It can not be too sternly denounced. It effectually deterred others from confiding in the English.
The colonists, conscious of the intellectual supremacy of King Philip as the commanding genius of the strife, devoted their main energies to his capture, dead or alive. Large rewards were offered for his head.
The barbarian monarch, with a large party of his warriors, had taken refuge in an almost impenetrable swamp upon the river, about eighteen miles below Taunton. All the inhabitants of Taunton, in their terror, had abandoned their homes, and were gathered in eight garrison houses.
On the 18th of July, a force of several hundred men from Plymouth and Taunton surrounded the swamp. They cautiously penetrated the tangled thicket, their feet at almost every step sinking in the mire and becoming shackled by interlacing roots, the branches pinioning their arms, and the dense foliage blinding their eyes. Philip, with characteristic cunning, sent a few of his warriors occasionally to exhibit themselves, to lure the English on. The colonists gradually forgot their accustomed prudence, and pressed eagerly forward.
Suddenly from the dense thicket a party of warriors in ambush poured upon their pursuers a volley of bullets. Fifteen dropped dead, and many were sorely wounded. The survivors precipitately retired from the swamp, "finding it ill," says Hubbard, "fighting a wild beast in his own den."
The English, taught a lesson of caution by this misadventure, now decided to surround the swamp, guarding every avenue of escape. They knew that Philip had no stores of provisions there, and that he soon must be starved out. Here they kept guard for thirteen days. In the mean time, Philip constructed some canoes and rafts, and one dark night floated all his warriors, some two hundred in number, across the river, and continued his flight through the present towns of Dighton and Rehoboth, far away into the unknown wilderness of the interior of Ma.s.sachusetts. Wetamoo, with several of her warriors, accompanied Philip in his flight. He left a hundred starving women and children in the swamp, who surrendered themselves the next morning to the English.
A band of fifty of the Mohegan Indians had now come, by direction of Uncas, to proffer their services to the colonists. A party of the English, with these Indian allies, pursued the fugitives. They overtook Philip"s party not far from Providence, and shot thirty of their number, without the loss of a single man. Rev. Mr. Newman, pastor of the church in Rehoboth, obtained great commendation for his zeal in rousing his parishioners to pursue the savages.
Philip had now penetrated the wilderness, and had effected his escape beyond the reach of his foes. He had the boundless forest around him for his refuge, with the opportunity of emerging at his leisure upon any point of attack along the vast New England frontier which he might select.
The Nipmuck Indians were a powerful tribe, consisting of many petty clans spread over the whole of the interior of Ma.s.sachusetts. They appear to have had no sachem of distinction, and at one time were tributary to the Narragansets, but were now tributary to the Wampanoags. They had thus far been living on very friendly terms with the inhabitants of the towns which had been settled within the limits of their territory. The court at Boston, apprehensive that the Nipmucks might be induced to join King Philip, sent some messengers to treat with them. The young warriors were very surly, and manifestly disposed to fight; but the old men dreaded the perils of war with foes whose prowess they appreciated, and were inclined to a renewal of friendship.
It was agreed that a conference should be held at a certain large tree, upon a plain about three miles from Brookfield, on the 2d of August. At the appointed time, the English commissioners were there, with a small force of twenty mounted men. But not an Indian was to be seen. Notwithstanding some suspicions of treachery, the English determined to advance some miles farther, to a spot where they were a.s.sured that a large number of Indians were a.s.sembled. They at length came to a narrow pa.s.s, with a steep hill covered with trees and underbrush on one side, and a swamp, impenetrable with mire and thickets, upon the other. Along this narrow way they could march only in single file. The silence of the eternal forest was around them, and nothing was to be seen or heard which gave the slightest indication of danger.
Just as they were in the middle of this trail, three hundred Indians rose up on either side, and showered upon them a storm of bullets.
Eight dropped dead. Three were mortally, and several others severely wounded. Captain Wheeler, who was in command, had his horse shot from under him, and a bullet also pa.s.sed through his body. His son, who rode behind him, though his own arm was shattered by a ball, dismounted, and succeeded in placing his father in the saddle. A precipitate retreat was immediately commenced, while the Indians pursued with yells of exultation. But for the aid of three Christian Indians who accompanied the English party, every Englishman must have perished. One of these Indians was taken captive. The other two, by skill and bravery, led their friends, by a by-path, back to Brookfield.
This town was then a solitary settlement of about twenty houses, alone in the wilderness, half way between the Atlantic sh.o.r.e and the settlements on the Connecticut. The terrified inhabitants had but just time to abandon their homes and take refuge in the garrison house when the savages were upon them. With anguish they saw, from the loop-holes of their retreat, every house and barn consumed, their cattle shot, and all their property of food, clothing, and furniture destroyed.
They were thus, in an hour, reduced from competence to the extreme of want.
The inhabitants of Brookfield, men, women, and children, amounted to but eighty. The nearest settlement from whence any help could come was at Lancaster, some forty miles northeast of Brookfield. The Indians surrounded the garrison, and for two days exerted all their ingenuity in attempting to destroy the building. They wrapped around their arrows hemp dipped in oil, and, setting them on fire, shot them upon the dry and inflammable roof. Several times the building was in flames, but the inmates succeeded in arresting the conflagration. It was now the evening of the 4th of August. The garrison, utterly exhausted by two days and two nights of incessant conflict, aware that their ammunition must soon be exhausted, and knowing not from what quarter to hope for relief, were in despair. The Indians now filled a cart with hemp, flax, and the resinous boughs of firs and pines. They fastened to the tongue a succession of long poles, and then, setting the whole fabric on fire, as it rolled up volumes of flame and smoke, pushed it back against the log house, whose walls were as dry as powder. Just then, when all hope of escape was abandoned, relief came.
Major Willard had been sent from Boston to Lancaster with a party of dragoons for the defense of that region. By some chance, probably through a friendly Indian, he was informed of the extreme distress of the people at Brookfield. Taking with him forty-eight dragoons, he marched with the utmost possible haste to their relief. With Indian guides, he traversed thirty miles of the forest that day, and arrived at the garrison in the evening twilight, just as the Indians, with fiendish clamor, were all engaged in their experiment with the flaming cart. Though the Indian scouts discovered his approach, and fired their guns and raised shouts of alarm, there was such a horrid noise from the yells of the savages and the uproar of musketry that the scouts could not communicate intelligence of the approach of the English, and the re-enforcement, with a rush, entered the garrison. At the same moment a very heavy shower arose, which aided greatly in the extinguishment of the flames.
The savages, thus balked of their victims, howled with rage, and, after firing a few volleys of bullets into the walls of the fortress, retired to their fastnesses. During this siege many of the whites were wounded, and about eighty of the Indians were killed. The day after the defeat, Philip, with forty-eight warriors, arrived at the Indian encampment at Brookfield. Though the Indians had not taken the garrison, and though they mourned the loss of many warriors, they were not a little elated with success. They had killed many of their enemies, and had utterly destroyed the town of Brookfield.
CHAPTER VII.
AUTUMN AND WINTER CAMPAIGNS.
1675
Philip"s influence.--Simultaneous attacks.--Deerfield burned.--Re-enforcement.--An ambuscade.--Dreadful slaughter and tortures.--Rescue of Northfield.--Northfield abandoned.--Attempts to save some corn.--Unsuspicious of danger.--Sudden attack.--A scene of carnage.--The English overpowered.--Captain Mosely attempts a rescue.--A prolonged fight.--The Indians vanquished.--Burial of the dead.--Deerfield destroyed.--Plot against Springfield.--A timely warning.--Lieutenant Cooper shot.--The attack.--The conflagration.--Loss of books.--Alarm of the inhabitants.--Decree of the general court.--Arrangement of forces.--Attack upon Hatfield.--The Indians defeated.--Narrow escape of Major Appleton.--The Indian rendezvous.--Philip"s employments.--Attempts to secure the Narragansets.--Mission to the Narragansets.--Compulsory treaty.--Erection of an Indian fort.--Advantages of the Indians.--Indian warfare.--Endurance of the Indians.--Losses of the colonists.--Anxious deliberations.--Arguments pro and con.--The Indians to be attacked.--A day of fasting.--John Woodc.o.c.k.--Mode of collecting debts.--March of the army.--Skirmishes.--Fortifications of the Indians.--The Indian fort.--Deplorable condition of the colonists.--A friendly traitor.--Terrible march.--Entrance to the swamp.--Appearance of the fort.--Fearless bravery.--Terrible slaughter.--An entrance effected.--Capture of the fort.--A scene of carnage.--Continuance of the battle.--The houses fired.--Flight of the Indians.--Helplessness of the English.--Necessity for a retreat.--A second retreat from Moscow.--Horrors of the night.--Want of provisions.--Disappointment at not finding food.--Arrival of a vessel.
Philip now directed his steps to the valley of the Connecticut, and gave almost superhuman vigor to the energy which the savages were already displaying in their attack upon the numerous and thriving settlements there. Even most of the Christian Indians, who had long lived upon terms of uninterrupted friendship with the English, were so influenced by the persuasions of Philip that they joined his warriors, and were as eager as any others for the extermination of the colonists.
Attacks were made almost simultaneously upon the towns of Hadley, Hatfield, and Deerfield, and also upon several towns upon the Merrimac River, in the province of New Hampshire. In these conflicts, the Indians, on the whole, were decidedly the victors. As Philip had fled from Plymouth, and as the Narragansets had not yet joined the coalition, the towns in Plymouth colony enjoyed a temporary respite.
On the 1st of September the Indians made a rush upon Deerfield. They laid the whole town in ashes. Most of the inhabitants had fortunately taken refuge in the garrison house, and but one man was slain. They then proceeded fifteen miles up the river to Northfield, where a small garrison had been established. They destroyed much property, and shot eight or ten of the inhabitants. The rest were sheltered in the garrison. The next day, this disaster not being known at Hadley, Captain Beers was detached from that place with thirty-six mounted infantry and a convoy of provisions to re-enforce the feeble garrison at Northfield. They had a march before them of thirty miles, along the eastern bank of the river. The road was very rough, and led through almost a continued forest.
When they arrived within a few miles of Northfield, they came to a wide mora.s.s, where it was necessary to dismount and lead their horses.
They were also thrown into confusion in their endeavors to transport their baggage through the swamp. Here the Indians had formed an ambuscade. The surprise was sudden, and disastrous in the extreme. The Indians, several hundred in number, surrounded the doomed party, and, from their concealment, took unerring aim. Captain Beers, a man of great valor, succeeded, with a few men, in retreating to a small eminence, since known as Beers"s Mountain, where he bravely maintained the unequal fight until all his ammunition was expended. A ball then pierced his bosom, and he fell dead. A few escaped back to Hadley to tell the mournful tidings of the slaughter, while all the rest were slain, and all their provisions and baggage fell into the hands of the exultant savages. The barbarian victors amused themselves in cutting off the heads of the slain, which they fixed upon poles at the spot, as defiant trophies of their triumph. One man was found with a chain hooked into his under jaw, and thus he was suspended on the bough of a tree, where he had been left to struggle and die in mortal agony. The garrison at Northfield, almost dest.i.tute of powder and food, was now reduced to the last extremity.
Major Treat was immediately dispatched with a hundred men for their rescue. Advancing rapidly and with caution, he succeeded in reaching Northfield. His whole company, in pa.s.sing through the scene of the disaster, were most solemnly affected in gazing upon the mutilated remains of their friends, and appear to have been not a little terror-stricken in view of such horrid barbarities. Fearing that the Indians were too numerous in the vicinity to be encountered by their small band, they brought off the garrison, and retreated precipitately to Hadley, not tarrying even to destroy the property which they could not bring away. It is said that Philip himself guided the Indians in their attack upon Captain Beers.
Hadley was now the head-quarters of the English army, and quite a large force was a.s.sembled there. Most of the inhabitants of the adjoining towns in tumult and terror had fled to this place for protection. At the garrison house in Deerfield, fifteen miles above Hadley, on the western side of the river, there were three thousand bushels of corn standing in stacks.
On the 18th of September, Captain Lothrop, having been sent from Hadley to bring off this corn, started with his loaded teams on his return. His force consisted of a hundred men, soldiers and teamsters.
As no Indians had for some time appeared in that immediate vicinity, and as there was a good road between the two places, no particular danger was apprehended. The Indians, however, from the fastnesses of the forest, were all the time watching their movements with eagle eye, and with consummate cunning were plotting their destruction.
After leaving Deerfield, the march led for about three miles through a very level country, densely wooded on each side of the road. The march was then continued for half a mile along the borders of a mora.s.s filled with large trees and tangled underbrush. Here a thousand Indians had planted themselves in ambuscade. It was a serene and beautiful autumnal day. Grape-vines festooned the gigantic trees of the forest, and purple cl.u.s.ters, ripe and juicy, hung in profusion among the boughs. Captain Lothrop was so unsuspicious of danger that many of his men had thrown their guns into the carts, and were strolling about gathering grapes.
The critical moment arrived, and the English being in the midst of the ambush, a thousand Indians sprang up from their concealment, and poured in upon the straggling column a heavy and destructive fire.
Then, with savage yells, which seemed to fill the whole forest, they rushed from every quarter to close a.s.sault. The English were scattered in a long line of march, and the Indians, with the ferocity of wolves, sprang upon them ten to one. A dreadful scene of tumult, dismay, and carnage ensued.
The tragic drama was soon closed. The troops, broken and scattered, could only resort to the Indian mode of fighting, each one skulking behind a tree. But they were so entirely surrounded and overpowered that no one could discharge his musket more than two or three times before he fell. Some, in their dismay, leaped into the branches of the trees, hoping thus to escape observation. The savages, with shouts of derision, mocked them for a time, and then pierced them with bullets until they dropped to the ground. All the wounded were indiscriminately butchered. But eight escaped to tell the awful story.
Ninety perished upon this b.l.o.o.d.y field. The young men who were thus slaughtered const.i.tuted the flower of Ess.e.x county. They had been selected for their intrepidity and hardihood from all the towns. Their destruction caused unspeakable anguish in their homes, and sent a wave of grief throughout all the colonies. The little stream in the south part of Deerfield, upon the banks of which this memorable tragedy occurred, has in consequence received the name of b.l.o.o.d.y Brook.
Captain Mosely had been left in the garrison at Deerfield with seventy men, intending to go the next day in search of the Indians. As he was but five miles from the scene of the ma.s.sacre, he heard the firing, and immediately marched to the rescue of his friends. But he was too late. They were all, before his arrival, silent in death. As the Indians were scalping and stripping the dead, Captain Mosely, with great intrepidity, fell upon them, though he computed their numbers at not less than a thousand. Keeping his men in a body, he broke through the tumultuous ma.s.s, charging back and forth, and cutting down all within range of his shot.
Still, aided by the swamp and the forest, and being so overwhelmingly superior to the English in numbers, the savages maintained the fight with much fierceness for six hours. Captain Mosely and all his men might perhaps also have perished, had not another party providentially and very unexpectedly come to their relief.
Major Treat, from Connecticut, was ascending the river with one hundred and sixty Mohegan Indians, on his way to Northfield, in pursuit of the foe in that vicinity. It was so ordered by Providence that he approached the scene of action just as both parties were exhausted by the protracted fight. Hearing the firing, he pressed rapidly forward, and with fresh troops fell vigorously upon the foe.
The Indians, with yells of disappointment and rage, now fled, plunging into the swamps and forests. They left ninety-six of their number dead by the side of the English whom they had so mercilessly slaughtered in the morning. It is supposed that Philip himself commanded the Indians on this sanguinary day. The Indians, though in the end defeated, had gained a marvelous victory, by which they were exceedingly encouraged and emboldened.
Captains Mosely and Treat encamped in the vicinity for the night, and the next morning attended to the burial of the dead. They were deposited in two pits, the English in one and the Indians in another.
A marble monument now marks the spot where this battle occurred, and a slab is placed over the mound which covers the slain.
Twenty-seven men only had been left in the garrison at Deerfield. The next morning the Indians appeared in large numbers before the garrison, threatening an attack. They tauntingly exhibited the clothes they had stripped from the slain, and shouted messages of defiance and insult. But the captain of the garrison, making a brave show of resistance, and sounding his trumpets, as if to call in forces near at hand, so alarmed the Indians that they retired, and soon all disappeared in the pathless forest. Deerfield was, however, utterly destroyed, and the garrison, abandoning the fortress, retired down the river to afford such protection as might be in their power to the lower towns.