Old colony days; stories of the first settlers and how our country grew

Front matter

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Preface

This little book is the second volume in the series of “ Uncle Sam’s Old-time Stories.” The first volume, “ The Coming of the White Men,” dealt with discoveries and early settlements; this takes up the story where that left off and brings the history of our country about to the time of the Revolution.

The brave men and women who were willing to face unknown dangers when they sought a free home in the American wilderness, found these dangers very real and often terrible.

At every turn there were foes to contend with, cold, hunger and sickness; the lurking savages who looked upon them with jealous eyes; the longing to see the familiar faces of the dear ones they had left behind and the loved scenes of their childhood.

All these and more must be striven with and overcome, else this country had not become what it is to-day, — the refuge of millions of suffering souls from all parts of the world.

The struggling pioneers did their work so bravely and so well that they are now and ever will be an inspiration to better, truer, and purer lives to all who listen to the story of their struggles and their victories.

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Contents

CHAPTER PAGE

I. Old Times in New England ii

II. King Philip’s War 23

Chapter I Old Times In New England

U NCLE SAM! Uncle Sam! Oh, you dear, dear Uncle ! We have missed you so much,” said Joe, running into the little cottage quite out of breath from haste and excitement. Lucy was close behind her brother.

They had just heard the good news that Uncle Sam had returned from his journey, and both children were eager to be the first ones to greet their dear old friend.

You couldn’t have missed me as much as I missed you,” declared Uncle Sam, after he had kissed the children again and again. “ Joe, dear, how you have grown during the last few months! As for you, Lucy, you are a butter-ball ; you must be at least ten pounds heavier than when I saw you last.”

“ Are you glad to be home again. Uncle Sam ? ”

II

“ Glad ! I should say I am, Lucy ! I couldn’t have got along another day without seeing this little home and you precious children. But I’ve had a fine time, too. I’ve seen a good deal of our glorious country, and I’m prouder than ever of being an American.”

Uncle Sam stroked his chin, just as he always did when thinking deeply, and his kind eyes took on a sober look.

“ We are just starving for some of your stories,” declared Joe. “ Mother is so busy that she never has time to tell us anything. As for father, he always wants to read his paper after he gets home. So you see we are actually suffering for your company and the good stories you can tell us.”

‘‘ I’m glad to hear it. I’m sure. Of course I am not glad to have you hungry. Hunger is sometimes a dreadful thing. But I am pleased that you want the kind of food I can give you. Roast beef and bread and butter are good things for the body, but the mind needs to be fed, too.”

“ Yes, and your history stories are just the thing,” said Joe.

“When will you feel rested enough to begin?” anxiously asked Lucy.

‘‘ This very afternoon. I’m not tired now, my dear, but of course I must look around the place a little first and get used to being home. If you and Joe will come over at four o’clock. I’ll be all ready for a good old-fashioned talk.”

At the time set the twins were back in their old friend’s little sitting-room. It was a dark, dull November afternoon. It was far pleasanter to watch the burning logs in the fireplace and listen to Uncle Sam’s cheerful voice than to play outdoors in the raw, chilly air.

You know I’ve been visiting my relations in the different parts of New England for the past month,” Uncle Sam began. “ As I went from one busy town to another and saw the blocks of stores, the pretty churches, and the pleasant homes ; as I heard the rumbling of the machinery in the mills and factories, I couldn’t help thinking of the old days when most of the country was still covered with forests.

In that early time, the trees were cut down here and there and little villages were built in the cleared spaces. In many of these clearings there were no more than a dozen houses, with perhaps two or three barns and a tiny church, or “ meeting-house,”

as they called it. The people of one village might be many miles away from any other settlers.

On winter evenings when the snow was piled up in big drifts around their homes, and they heard the wolves howling under the windows, they must often have felt lonely and longed for the comforts of Old England. Such snowstorms and bitter cold they had never before known.

“ At first, the settlers made their homes along the shores of the ocean, but by-and-by they took little journeys into the country. They found many rivers where salmon, shad, and other fish were plentiful. They noticed that there were great numbers of deer and wild turkeys in the forests.

“ So it came about that a few daring men said : ‘ We will move farther inland with our families. We will choose a pleasant spot beside a stream of fresh water. There we will cut down the trees, build log houses and plant gardens. We are not afraid of harm coming to us.’

“ You can imagine how the little children of those settlers spent their days. The boys helped their fathers cut down the trees and saw the logs for their rough homes ; they fished in the rivers and hunted through the woods for turkeys, deer and pigeons. The girls knit and spun, or tended the babies for their busy mothers; they picked berries and brought water from the spring, or watched the meat and bread cooking in the big fireplace.

‘‘Of course the poor dears had some time to play with their dolls. Such homely dolls, too, — carved out of wood by some kind-hearted big brother, or perhaps made of cloth and stuffed with wool by their mothers during a few spare minutes.

“ Sometimes baby rabbits or squirrels were brought home by the hunters. Then there would be a cry from the little ones : ‘ Don’t kill the pretty creature, papa. Please let us have it for a pet.’

“ Perhaps the father’s stern face became tender as he thought of the children’s hard life, and he said : ‘ Very well, make a little house for your

pet and take good care of it. Don’t let your mother be bothered, for she has enough already to keep her busy.’

“ Every morning and evening there were prayers, even on the busiest days. The children and their parents must never rise in the morning nor go to sleep at night without thanking God for his love and care of them in this strange, wild country of New England.

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The Sabbath was a day of quiet. It began at sunset of Saturday. No work was done that was not actually needful. Of course the cattle and chickens must be fed; the people themselves must eat, too, although little cooking was done. The dinner was often cooked the day before and eaten cold.

Even the children must be quiet on Sunday ; no noise, no laughing, hardly a smile was allowed on that day. There were long sermons, many hymns and prayers in the little meeting-house, which was not heated even on the coldest winter day.

When the sun set on Sunday, it was the time to make ready for another six days of work. What might happen before another Sabbath ! Who could say?”

‘‘ I don’t understand how anything could happen in those quiet little villages,” remarked Joe, as Uncle Sam stopped to rest. ‘‘ Of course I should have liked the hunting and fishing, but there would be nothing exciting so far as I can see.”

You forget, Joe, that the settlers were few in number and that they were surrounded by savages. The Indians were friendly at first. The good Massasoit, who welcomed the Pilgrims, had set a good example for the others. They came to the homes of the white men, bringing furs and game which they were glad to sell if they could get beads, hatchets and blankets in return.

As years went by, however, the red men began to complain among themselves. They said : ‘ These white men are making their homes in the very placea where we have been free to hunt the' deer and the moose and to trap the turkey. They are cutting down our forests ; the wild animals- are fleeing in terror; more and more of these white strangers are coming to our shores every year. What will become of our free and happy hunting grounds? This is our land and they have no right to take away what belongs to us.’ Then the Indians scowled and muttered to themselves in low tones.

“ They were still more angry and unfriendly as the years passed by, for many of the Puritan settlers were stern in their v/ays and speech. They looked upon the red men as savages; they spoke harshly to them, and did not think it was worth while to make friends with them.

‘‘ ‘ How different they are from the white men to the west of us,’ thought many of the Indians.

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‘ The Dutchmen are kind and pleasant. When they trade with us they are friendly, and honest, too. We do not like these Puritans.’

‘‘ The red men were thinking of the Dutch settlers in New York, who managed to keep peace with the Indians for a long time after they came to America.

‘‘ So it came about that the settlers throughout New England were in danger from their red neighbors. They never knew when they might be taken by surprise. Their cattle might be killed, or some cruel deed done to the women and children at any moment ; they must be on their guard all the time.

‘‘ Most of the villages away from the seashore had train-bands; that is, bands of men who were trained to be ready for fighting at a moment’s notice. Many of the houses were built so as to be used as forts. High walls of stakes were set up around the little homesteads, for skulking red men might take the people by surprise at any moment.

On Sundays the men carried their muskets when they went to meeting. During the long sermon they sat straight and still, listening to the words of the minister. Yet all the time they held their muskets in their laps. Then if a sudden warwhoop sounded outside the windows, they would be ready to shoot, and defend their frightened wives and little ones.”

As Uncle Sam spoke of the Indians, Joe and Lucy looked up with scared eyes at his kind face.

“ Nothing to fear now, my dears. Oh, no ! those days are long gone by. You may well be glad of it, too. I don’t believe you would have enjoyed the ways of the Indians. They didn’t go about like white men, — ■ a whole company marching along boldly. They traveled so quietly in their soft moccasins, they crept through the forests and along the by-paths with so little noise, that they were continually taking the white people by surprise.”

“ Ugh ! I can imagine the children in one of those lonely villages,” said Lucy, half to herself. ‘‘ They never knew when it was safe to enjoy themselves. Perhaps those ugly Indians would appear in the very midst of a game of hide-and-seek. They would run home as fast as they could, and there would be no more hide-and-seek that day.”

'' Or perhaps on a cold, stormy night in winter,” Uncle Sam went on, “ the children would be popping corn in the big fireplace. There would be a knock at the door. Away the small boys and girls would scamper, — one into a closet, another under the bed, and a third into the darkest corner of the cellar. The corn was quite forgotten and left to pop itself all over the room if it liked.

‘‘ The father would seize his musket and slowly unbar the door. He would open it just wide enough to see whether a friend was waiting outside or one of those dreaded Indians.

‘‘ After a while the Pequot Indians, who lived near the ' Long River,’ as they called the Connecti - cut, rose openly against the settlers. ‘ The white men are not our friends,’ they said to each

other. ^ They have taken our land from us ; they

have cut down our forests. We do not mind the

Dutch people; they come among us only to trade.

But the English have come to live among us, and we hate their cold, proud ways.’

‘‘ Not long after this, they killed two white men.

Dreadful ! Dreadful ! ’ declared the settlers. ‘ Those fierce Pequots make the country unsafe for us to live in ; soldiers must be sent against them.’

‘‘ And soldiers did go very soon. They killed many of the Pequots, they burned down their wigwams, and they left a number to starve.

‘‘ In the midst of this sad state of things, there was one kind-hearted man who did all he could to stop the trouble; it was the good minister, Roger Williams, whose story I told you last summer/^

“ Oh, yes, he was the one who settled Providence,^’ said Joe. The Indians liked him, for he wasn’t stiff and proud in his ways.”

“To be sure,” Uncle Sam went on. He was loving toward all men; he went among the fierce Pequots at the risk of his life; he did all he could to take away their anger toward the settlers. He also visited another tribe of Indians who were very powerful ; he talked to them with so much sense that they said : ‘ We will not join with the Pequots against the English; we will remain quiet.’

“ It was well for the white settlers that they did. Otherwise the war would have been a terrible one indeed. As it was, it did not last long. The Pequots were soon overcome; many of them lost their lives, while their brave chief was driven from his home and soon afterward killed by unfriendly Indians.

After this there was peace for many years. The white people lost much of their fear of the red men. They did not dream of the troubles yet to

ff come.

‘‘ What were they? Do tell us, Uncle Sam,” said Joe eagerly.

“ That is another story, so you shall have it another day,” was the smiling answer. “ I believe I am more tired from my journey than I at first thought; I shall have to rest now.”

“ Mother said you must be sure to come back with us to supper; she will have hot biscuits and other nice things. You’ll come, won’t you?” begged Lucy.

'' Certainly, my dear. It will be a rest to see your good father and mother once more, and eat one of the nice suppers your mother always prepares.”

Uncle Sam got up out of his arm-chair and was soon on his way to the home of his old friends.

CHAPTER II KING Philip’s war

^ ^TT^ING PHILIP was an Indian who lived in AX. a wigwam, and was sometimes obliged to go to bed hungry.”

A funny kind of a king,” remarked Joe. He and Lucy had stopped at the little cottage on their way home from school. Uncle Sam had finished his day’s work early, so he had invited the children to stay for a while, unless their mother would worry at their absence. “If you can stay, I will tell you that other story of which I spoke the last time you were here.”

“ Good ! good ! ” exclaimed the children, and Lucy added : “We told mother we were coming here, so she 'said we might stay till half-past five if you were willing.”

Then Uncle Sam began to tell the story of King Philip.

“ Yes, it does seem funny to speak of him as a king. Yet that is what he was called, and he felt every inch as proud as any king in the v^orld. When he was dressed in his royal robes, he wore a coat made of polished shell beads. It was worth as much to him as many thousands of dollars are to a white man.

“ The Indians called such beads wampum. They took pieces of the pearly lining of shells and cut and polished them with rude tools. They bored holes in them and strung them together. Wampum was the most precious thing an Indian could own.

“ When Philip was dressed in his coat of wampum, with one belt of wampum about his head and still another around his waist, he felt very grand indeed. Besides these things, the red-skinned chief owned a large blanket. He certainly had everything an Indian’s heart could wish.

“ Philip was once a little boy who played happily with his older brother, Alexander. In those days he wasn’t called Philip ; he had a long Indian name which I am afraid you will forget. It was Pometacom, sometimes called Metacomet.

“ His father was the good chief Massasoit, who was a kind friend to the white men as long as he lived. After he had died and his sons grew up, they did not have the same kindly feelings for the white people that he had shown. They were bitter against the settlers. They said : ‘We have sold our lands too cheaply. See how much the white men have done with them.'

“ Then, too, they were angry because some of the Indians had become Christians through the teachings of the white men. They called them the ‘ Praying Indians,' and looked down upon them. At the same time, they disliked the settlers who had taught the Praying Indians to give up the beliefs of the red men.

“ A very good man named John Eliot had done most of this work. He was a kindly, gentle man, and he loved God with all his heart. He thought: ‘ I would gladly give my life to make these poor savages better and get them to live like the white people.'

“ He went from one Indian village to another, teaching the people about God, and Jesus, the loving Friend of all. The red men came out of their wigwams to listen. Some of them said : ‘ It must be good to be a Christian if it makes a person like John Eliot.'

“ These Indians left their homes and gave themselves up to the teachings of the gentle minister;

they gathered together and made villages ; they tried to follow the ways of the white men; they did not care any longer for the charms of the medicine men of their tribe.

John Eliot did not stop here. He tried to teach the Praying Indians to read ; he wrote out the Bible in the words of the Indian language. Sometimes he found it hard to pick out Indian words that meant the same as the Bible words, but at last he finished his work.

Then the book must be printed. And it was printed, too, — one of the first books made in what is now the United States. You can hardly imagine how much time and patience John Eliot spent before his work was finished.

'' Now let us come back to Philip and his brother Alexander, who looked with scorn upon the Praying Indians.

After Massasoit died, Alexander became chief in his father’s place.

“ ' We do not like the behavior of that chief,’ the settlers said among themselves.

He is rousing another tribe besides his own against us,’ declared some of those who had been watching him closely.

‘‘ ‘ We must send for him/ said the leading white men. ‘ He shall come to Plymouth and answer the charges made against him.’

“ A company of soldiers was sent at once to the proud chief. He saw it was best for him to go with them peaceably, but a storm was raging in his heart as he thought of the disgrace of his arrest.

“ He taken to Plymouth as a prisoner ! He, Alexander, King of the Wampanoags ! It was too much to bear. The thought made him so ill that while he was on the way to Plymouth he was seized with a fever. The white men did alt they could for him, but he did not get better.

‘ Let us take him home,’ begged his followers.

“ They made a litter and placed the sick man upon it ; then with sad hearts they started for Mount Hope. But poor Alexander did not live to see his home.

‘ The wicked white men gave him poison. They have killed our chief ! ’ wailed his friends, and the settlers could not make the red men believe anything different.

'' Philip became chief in his brother’s place. His heart was now very bitter toward the white people.

“ ‘ If I could only drive them from the country ! ’ he thought.

He heard his followers grumbling on all sides. Perhaps one of them would speak of the fire-water which the white men sold to the Indians. ' Killdevil ’ was another name the Indians gave it.

“ ' When we drink it, it takes away our minds,’ Philip would declare. ‘ Then it is an easy thing to cheat us and make us sell our lands and furs for almost nothing.’

“ Another warrior would mutter : ‘ The cattle of these white men eat the corn that our squaws have planted. If we complain, they only answer : ^ Why don’t you build a fence around the corn ? Ugh ! Warriors have other work than building fences.’

A third would speak in low tones, whispering to a friend : ‘ Why doesn’t our chief drive the pale-faces from our shores before they grow any stronger ? ’

“ All these words reached Philip’s ears sooner or later. He, too, had wrongs, and he scowled as he thought of his brother’s death. His people must not think him a coward, without a right to the title

I of chief. Oh, no ! Philip was proud. He was also wise and brave above most Indians.

“ He cut up his precious coat of wampum and divided it into belts which he sent by messengers to other tribes near by. What did the tribes think of the white men? Did it seem a wise thing to drive them from the country ? What else could be done ? These were some of the questions the messengers were to ask as they gave the belts of wampum.

‘‘ Philip also told his warriors to sharpen their knives and hatchets. He gathered together all the gtins his people had bought from the white men. The settlers learned what he had done, and sent for him to come and explain.

Philip did not wish them to know how he felt, because he was really not ready to begin war. Besides, his medicine men had said ; ‘ Whoever sheds the first blood will be beaten.’ Philip did not wish, therefore, that an Indian should begin the war.

Soon after he received the message from the white men, he set out with about eighty of his followers to meet them. When he came among them he acted as if he felt quite pleasant toward the settlers. He promised to do as they asked; he gave up his gun and ordered the warriors with him to do the same; he even promised that when he reached home he would send back to the white men all the other guns held by the Indians/'

“ Did he do it, Uncle Sam? ” cried Joe in excitement.

Indeed not ! ” was the answer. He knew too well that the only hope of the Indians lay in their guns. How much would bows and arrows gain for them against the firearms of the enemy? Little, indeed.

As soon as Philip was once more safe among his own people, he spent more time than ever in making plans against the English. He thought : Hf I can get all the tribes around me to join together, we can drive our hated foes from the land.’

“ There was a certain Indian named Sassamon, who had lived with the kind preacher, John Eliot. He had learned how to read and write, and had grown very fond of the white men.

“ It happened that King Philip needed someone to write letters for him. He chose Sassamon; he did not doubt that he would be true to his own people.

“ Sassamon, however, betrayed his master ; he went to the settlers and told them all of Philip’s plans. The Indians discovered what had been done. Not long afterward Sassamon’s dead body was found under the ice in a pond.

Another Indian who was also a friend of the white men went to them and said : ‘ Sassamon was killed because he told you of King Philip’s plans. I know the very one who did it.’

“ The settlers said at once : ‘ The murderer shall be put to death.’

They held a court and decided that three men, instead of one, were guilty of Sassamon’s murder. These three men were seized and killed, although the white men did not have much proof against them.

‘‘‘War! war! Nothing but war is left for us now,’ declared Philip’s followers.

“ The English also thought there must be war. They said : ‘ We have nothing to fear. It will be an easy matter to conquer Philip and his whole tribe.’

“ Little did they know how great Philip really was, and how much harm he could do. Yet even now he was not ready for war. ‘ I will not shed the first blood,’ he thought.

“ About this time a man in the little town of

Swanzey fired upon some Indians because they had shot his oxen. One of them was wounded.

“ The red men need wait no longer ; the first blood had been shed ! It was the sign to begin the war.

“ A large party of Indians crept toward the town of Swanzey. It was a fast-day. and the people were at tjie rrieeting-house.' ' /

When the, last prayer had been said, and the last hymn had been sung, they left the building. Alas! what a sight met their eyes. Their homes were in flames; around them on all sides sounded the report of guns; the savages were shooting at them from different hiding-places they had taken up.’’

“ I pity the poor little children,” cried Lucy in a tone of sadness. ‘‘ How frightened they must have been ! What did they do. Uncle Sam ? ”

I suppose some of them hid behind their mothers’ skirts; others ran wildly about; everybody was filled with fear.

When the sun set that night, nine of the settlers had met death at the hands of the Indians. All the people of the out-lying settlements were filled with fright.

“ ‘ An army must be sent out at once,’ declared the white men. The very next clay drums were beaten on Boston Common; it was the call to arms.

Philip did not go with his warriors to Swanzey. He was at home at Mount Hope when it happened.

“ ‘ We will go straight to Mount Hope/ declared the commander of the army. ‘ If we capture or kill the chief of the savages, we shall end the trouble very quickly.’

When they reached Mount Hope, great was their surprise to find that Philip was gone. Gone, too, were his arms, canoes, and provisions.

‘ The chief is afraid of us,’ said many of the settlers. ^ We need not fear any more harm from the Indians.’

“ Captain Church did not agree with them. He was a very wise as well as a very brave man and he had studied Indian ways. He thought : ‘ Perhaps at this very moment Philip is planning how to surprise us.’

'' Captain Church was quite right. Philip had fled, to be sure, but he had made a camp in a large swamp. It was a good hiding-place for himself and his warriors. Here he kept busy directing them where to go so as to take the white people by surprise.

“ One place after another was attacked. Houses were burned, cattle killed and many people lost their lives.

“ One of these places was the little town of Brookfield. When the people heard that the Indians were drawing near, they gathered together in a big house made of logs. It was a rough sort of fort and had loop-holes to shoot through.

“ As soon as the savages arrived, they set fire to the other houses, but of course that did not satisfy them.