CHAPTER XVIII
THE HEART OF MASSASOIT
It was not long after this until the war-cloud darkened in the sky.
There had come sudden messages to James Brown and Hugh Cole of Swansea. They were from the better heart of King Philip.
"The land air is fire; protect yourselves. I would help you, but I cannot restrain my young braves now. The young warriors burn; I must mount my black horse, and I give you warning. My heart is true to all who have been true to Philip."
Such in effect was the message. These men warned others. In a short time, on a Sabbath day, several men were killed in the green groves of Swansea by the Indians, near the place where is now the water-works on the Kickemuit, or Serpentine.
Timid Susan heard the terrible news from James Brown and Hugh Cole, and also that these men were protecting themselves, and that James Brown was hiding his valuables. The well is still shown near Touissit Station where he hid his brass kettle, and with the well is associated a dismal tale.
Timid Susan trembled.
"What will Little Metacomet do now?" asked Roger.
"He will be as true to us as Philip has been to Mr. Brown and Mr. Cole, and as he always has been to Mr. Blaxton, Father Eliot and Roger Williams. An Indian never harms his friend."
A strange figure appeared in the road, shy, fantastic.
"Who is that, Roger?"
"A barkeater."
Susan looked at him in alarm.
The Indian came toward the door, beckoning. He was painted and plumed.
"There are hawks in the air," said he, the usual words meaning war. "Little birds should take to the bushes. I bring you a word from Little Metacomet; his heart is true to his friends. He says again, the young chief, he says that if you are in danger he will seek you out, and if he should be in danger, he wants you to find him. The places in the world where hearts are true to each other have no war. The young chief's heart is true."
He uttered the thoughts in crude and broken words.
"Tell Little Metacomet that we love him," said Susan to the barkeater. "Whatever comes, I cannot forget that child's heart. He has the heart of Massasoit."
What was the heart of Massasoit?
It is pleasing to try to answer this interesting question, for the answer pictures what is best and noblest in Indian history.
Few things so reveal the Indian nature as the conduct of Massasoit, or Massasowat, on the occasion of the second visit of Edward Winslow to Sowams, to the great sachem.
As soon as Massasoit began to recover from his sickness, under the treatment of the English, his heart overflowed with gratitude.
Let us present this incident in Winslow's own words.
"That morning he caused me to spend in going from one to another amongst those that were sick in the town, requesting me to wash their mouths, and give to each of them some of the same broth I gave him, saying that they were good folk. This pains I took with willingness, though it were much offensive to me. After dinner he desired me to get him a goose or duck, and make him some pottage therewith, with as much speed as I could. So I took a man with me, and made a shot at a couple of ducks, some six score paces off, and killed one, at which he wondered. So we returned forthwith, and dressed it, making more broth therewith, which he much desired. Never did I see a man, so low brought, recover in that measure in so short a time.
"About an hour after, he began to be very sick, cast up the broth, and began to bleed at the nose, and so continued the space of four hours. Concluding now that he would die, they asked me what I thought of him. I answered, his case was desperate, yet it might be it would save his life; for if it ceased in time, he would forthwith sleep and rest, which was the principal thing he wanted.--Not long after, his blood stayed, and he slept at least six or eight hours. When he awaked, I washed his face and bathed and suppled his beard and nose with a linen cloth. But on a sudden, he chopped his nose in the water, and drew up some therein, and sent it forth again with such violence, that he began to bleed afresh. Then they thought there was no hope; but we perceived it was but the tenderness of his nostril, and therefore told them. I thought it would stay presently, as indeed it did.
"The messengers whom I had sent to Plymouth for chickens for new broth were now returned; but finding his stomach come to him, he would not have the chickens killed, but kept them for breed.
"Many, whilst we were there, came to see him; some, by their report, from a place not less than a hundred miles. To all that came, one of his chief men related the manner of his sickness, how near he was spent, how his friends the English came to see him, and how suddenly they recovered him to this strength they saw. Upon this, his recovery, he brake forth into these speeches:
"'Now I see the English are my friends, and love me; and whilst I live, I will never forget this kindness they have showed me.' At our coming away, he called Hobbamock, an interpreter, to him, and privately revealed the plot before spoken of, against Master Weston's colony, and so against us, saying himself also in his sickness was earnestly solicited, but he would neither join therein, nor give way to any of his. With this he charged him thoroughly to acquaint me by the way, that I might inform the Governor thereof, at my first coming home. Being fitted for our return, we took our leave of him; who returned many thanks for our Governor, and also to ourselves for our labor and love; the like did all that were about him. So we departed.
"That night, through the earnest request of Conbatant, who till now remained at Sowams, or Puckanokick, we lodged with him at Mattapuyst. Here we remained only that night, but never had better entertainment amongst any of them. The day following, in our journey, Hobbamock, told me of the private conference he had with Massasowat, and how he charged him perfectly to acquaint me therewith, as I showed before; which having done, he used many arguments himself to move us thereunto. That night we lodged in Namasket, and the day following, arrived at home."
The simple story of this chicken broth, as we gather it from this narrative, indicates that a benevolent service to the Indian races in the right spirit might have changed the Indians into citizens, and made useful people of them. The work of the Mayhews among them on the Islands had this influence, as did the efforts to civilize the Stockbridge Indians.
Philip had at times the heart of the great Massasoit, and at other times the revengeful feelings of a savage. Susan saw only one side of his nature, and well did she hope that even yet she would not hear the war-whoop.