in that region, but some five days' journey therefrom. "He told us (they say) the place where we now live is called Pautuxet, and that about four years ago all the inhabitants died of some extraordinary plague, and there is neither man, woman, nor child remaining, as indeed we have found none; so there is none to hinder our possession or lay claim to it." After this singular people had sailed for America, James, their oppressor, had caused a charter to issue to them. Before they left home they had permission from this monarch to go out and settle in the wilderness, and they did not appear to have any scruple about taking possession of the country where they landed, although it was not within the limits of the Virginia colony. In the charter of James I. to the Pilgrims, which has become known as "The Grand Plimouth Charter," he said, "that he had been given certainly to knowe, that within these late years there hath, by God's visitation, reigned a wonderfull plague, together with many horrible slaughters and murthers, committed amongst the sauages and brutish people there heretofore inhabiting, in a manner to the utter destruction, deuastacion, and depopulacion of that whole territorye, so that there is not left, for many leagues together in a manner, any that do claime or challenge any kind of interest therein."

Thus assured by the charter of King James, and informed by Samoset that all the inhabitants of the region for "many leagues" had died of a great plague, and that neither man, woman, nor child remained, the good Pilgrims felt that they were providentially seized and possessed of a country wherein they could establish a system of religious worship such as they could not enjoy in their own native land. As the years passed and accessions were made to the English settlements, difficulties between the colonists and the natives frequently occurred, often resulting in the loss of life on both sides. In commenting upon these Drake says: "These affairs call for no commentary; that must accompany every mind through every step of the relation. It would be a weakness, as appears to us, to attempt a vindication of the rash conduct of the English." When Robinson, one of the fathers of the Plymouth Church, heard how his people (the Pilgrims)

had conducted these affairs with the Indians, he wrote them to consider of the disposition of one of their number (Captain Standish), "who was of a warm temper," but he hoped that the Lord had sent him among them for a good end, if they used him as they should. "He doubted," he said, "whether there was not wanting that tenderness of the life of man, made after God's image," which was so necessary, and above all, that "it would have been happy if they had converted some before they had killed any."

In 1637, it was resolved in the Massachusetts colony to raise troops to make war on the Pequod Indians. Previous to this period there had been many conflicts with these Indians, in which the colonists were as barbarous in their mode of warfare as the Indians. Dr. Mather's writings contain such items as the following: "Some of Uncas' men being there at Saybrook, in order to assisting the English against the Pequods, espied seven Indians, and slily encompassing them, slew five of them, and took one prisoner and brought him to the English fort, which gave great satisfaction and encouragement to the English. When the prisoner was executed, his limbs were by violence pulled from one another, and burned to ashes." Again, Dr. M. says, in sailing westward from Saybrook, "the wind not answering, they cast anchor. Some scattering Pequods were then taken and slain, as also the Pequod sachem, before expressed, had his head cut off, whence that place did bear the name of Sachem's Head."

The contemplated expedition against the doomed Pequods met with some delay after the troops were raised, and some had gone forward under Underhill to Fort Saybrook. There seemed to be no doubt in the minds of the colonists about the justness of the war, but it was thought the army "was too much a covenant with works." The expedition finally got ready to move, and "by a solemn public invocation of the word of God," a leader was designated by lot from among the magistrates. Stoughton was chosen as such, and a chaplain was also selected. While the Massachusetts party procrastina'ed, the Connecticut towns had sent forward a force which had been joined by those at Fort Saybrook, and led by Mason and Underhill, the Pequods were attacked while within their

fort or village, and asleep in their wigwams, and literally annihilated. "The barking of a dog," says Drake, "was the first notice they had of the approach of the enemy, yet very few knew the cause of the alarm, until met by the naked swords of the foe. The fort had two entrances at opposite points, into which each party of the English were led, sword in hand." Such was the surprise of the Indians "that they made very feeble resistance. Having only their own missile weapons, they could do nothing at hand to hand with the English rapiers. They were pursued from wigwam to wigwam, and slaughtered in every secret place. Women and children were cut to pieces while endeavoring to hide under their beds. At length fire was set in the mats that covered the wigwams, which furiously spread over the whole fort, and the dead and dying were together consumed. A part of the English had formed a circumference upon the outside, and shot such as attempted to fly. Many ascended the pickets to escape the flames, but were shot down by those stationed for that purpose. About six hundred Pequods were supposed to have perished in this fight, or perhaps I should say massacre. There were but two English killed, and but one of these by the enemy, and about twenty wounded. Sassacus himself was in another fort, and being informed of the ravages of the English, destroyed his habitations, and with about eighty others fled to the Mohawks, who treacherously beheaded him and sent his scalp to the English." Underhill, although engaged in the affair, says the colonists, "bereaved of pity, and without compassion, kept up the fight within the fort, while their Indian allies, forming a circle around, struck down every Pequod who attempted to escape." He adds: "Great and doleful was the bloody sight to the view of young soldiers, to see so many souls lie gasping on the ground, so thick you could hardly pass along."

Morton thus describes the termination of this massacre: "At this time it was a fearful sight to see them thus frying in the fire, and the streams of blood quenching the same, and terrible was the stink and scent thereof, but the victory seemed a sweet sacrifice, and they gave the praise thereof to God, who had wrought so wonderfully for them, thus to inclose

their enemies in his hands, and give them so speedy a victory over so proud, insulting, and blasphemous an enemy." Dr. Mather, in speaking of the event, says: "It is supposed that no less than five or six hundred Pequod souls were brought down to hell that day."

The colonists believed that they were perfectly justified in this and other like acts against the Indians, and that their success was sufficient evidence that they had the divine approval for the destruction of the "bloody heathen." Underhill wrote: "We had sufficient light from the word of God for our proceedings;" and Mason, after reciting with exultation some portions of the Psalms, exclaimed: "Thus the Lord was pleased to smite our enemies in the hinder parts, and to give us their land for an inheritance." There were still a few Pequods remaining who were not in the fort. (This fort was situate near the present town of Groton, Connecticut.) Stoughton, with his forces, appeared about a fortnight after the slaughter, and, joined by Mason, set out to finish up the work. The Indians were hunted from swamp to swamp. At one place about one hundred were captured, twenty-two of whom were men. These were put to death; thirty women and children were given to the Narragansetts (then the allies of the colonists), and about fifty others sent to Boston, and from thence distributed as slaves to some of the principal colonists. Quite a number of adult male persons, that had from time to time fallen into the hands of the colonists, were sent to the West Indies and sold into slavery, and the women and children of such were made slaves at home. During Stoughton's campaign, he wrote the governor of Massachusetts as follows: "By this pinnace you shall receive forty-eight or fifty women and children, unless they stay here to be helpful, etc., concerning which there is one I formerly mentioned that is the fairest and largest that I saw among them, to whom I have given a coate to clothe her. It is my desire to have her for a servant, if it may stand with your good likeing, else not. There is a little squaw that steward Calicut desireth, to whom he hath given a coate. Lieut. Davenport also desireth one, to wit, a small one that hath three strokes upon the stomache. He desireth her if it shall stand with your good

likeing." Thus were the Pequods exterminated. They were regarded by the Puritans as belonging to the "cursed race of Ham;" fit only to be rooted out and destroyed.

The feeling of the colonists toward the Pequods and the barbarous treatment and cruel murder of the entire tribe, discloses the general feeling of the whites toward the Indians at that period. Comparatively ignorant of the views and intentions of the Indians, the whites were distrustful, and hence in their intercourse with them they were from the beginning exacting and vindictive. As time advanced, the opinion grew among the colonists that the Indian was a cumberer of the ground; that he stood in the way of Christian civilization, and that they were justified in destroying him. It is true that there were exceptions among the whites, and a few men, of whom Eliot was a type, believed that the Indian, though a savage, was a man, and these labored among the natives with the spirit of true missionaries. Such men had a heavy burden to carry, but they labored incessantly to reclaim the savage and teach him the Christian faith. Under the teachings of these devoted men, there were by the beginning of what is known as King Philip's War about ten to twelve hundred converts, who were known as the "Preying Indians." Eliot, who managed the missionary funds, was admonished by the Puritans that they feared lest the converts "should only follow Christ for loaves and outward advantage." It was only by constant effort and importunity that he was enabled to overcome this suspicious fear, and obtain liberty from the colonists to organize a church at his Indian town. He, however, received but little aid for this enterprise from the colonists, and was compelled to rely mainly on contributions from friends in England to support it. When it is remembered that in the grants from European powers to their subjects who came out to plant colonies in North America, one avowed purpose was to propagate the gospel among the heathen, and that the New England colonists felt that the duty of laboring to convert the natives was obligatory on them, what actually occurred seems more like fiction than truth. The conduct of the colonists toward the natives was such as to precipitate conflicts, and hence the respect, and