第30章 THE SKETCH BOOK(7)

The defeat at the Narragansett fortress, and the death of Canonchet,were fatal blows to the fortunes of King Philip. He made anineffectual attempt to raise a head of war, by stirring up the Mohawksto take arms; but though possessed of the native talents of astatesman, his arts were counteracted by the superior arts of hisenlightened enemies, and the terror of their warlike skill began tosubdue the resolution of the neighboring tribes. The unfortunatechieftain saw himself daily stripped of power, and his ranks rapidlythinning around him. Some were suborned by the whites; others fellvictims to hunger and fatigue, and to the frequent attacks by whichthey were harassed. His stores were all captured; his chosen friendswere swept away from before his eyes; his uncle was shot down by hisside; his sister was carried into captivity; and in one of hisnarrow escapes he was compelled to leave his beloved wife and only sonto the mercy of the enemy. "His ruin," says the historian, "being thusgradually carried on, his misery was not prevented, but augmentedthereby; being himself made acquainted with the sense and experimentalfeeling of the captivity of his children, loss of friends, slaughterof his subjects, bereavement of all family relations, and beingstripped of all outward comforts, before his own life should betaken away."To fill up the measure of his misfortunes, his own followers beganto plot against his life, that by sacrificing him they mightpurchase dishonorable safety. Through treachery a number of hisfaithful adherents, the subjects of Wetamoe, an Indian princess ofPocasset, a near kinswoman and confederate of Philip, were betrayedinto the hands of the enemy. Wetamoe was among them at the time, andattempted to make her escape by crossing a neighboring river: eitherexhausted by swimming, or starved by cold and hunger, she was founddead and naked near the water side. But persecution ceased not atthe grave. Even death, the refuge of the wretched, where the wickedcommonly cease from troubling, was no protection to this outcastfemale, whose great crime was affectionate fidelity to her kinsman andher friend. Her corpse was the object of unmanly and dastardlyvengeance; the head was severed from the body and set upon a pole, andwas thus exposed at Taunton, to the view of her captive subjects. Theyimmediately recognized the features of their unfortunate queen, andwere so affected at this barbarous spectacle, that we are told theybroke forth into the "most horrid and diabolical lamentations."However Philip had borne up against the complicated miseries andmisfortunes that surrounded him, the treachery of his followers seemedto wring his heart and reduce him to despondency. It is said that"he never rejoiced afterwards, nor had success in any of his designs."The spring of hope was broken- the ardor of enterprise wasextinguished- he looked around, and all was danger and darkness; therewas no eye to pity, nor any arm that could bring deliverance. With ascanty band of followers, who still remained true to his desperatefortunes, the unhappy Philip wandered back to the vicinity of MountHope, the ancient dwelling of his fathers. Here he lurked about,like a spectre, among the scenes of former power and prosperity, nowbereft of home, of family and friend. There needs no better picture ofhis destitute and piteous situation, than that furnished by the homelypen of the chronicler, who is unwarily enlisting the feelings of thereader in favor of the hapless warrior whom he reviles. "Philip," hesays, "like a savage wild beast, having been hunted by the Englishforces through the woods, above a hundred miles backward andforward, at last was driven to his own den upon Mount Hope, where heretired, with a few of his best friends, into a swamp, which provedbut a prison to keep him fast till the messengers of death came bydivine permission to execute vengeance upon him."Even in this last refuge of desperation and despair, a sullengrandeur gathers round his memory. We picture him to ourselvesseated among his care-worn followers, brooding in silence over hisblasted fortunes, and acquiring a savage sublimity from the wildnessand dreariness of his lurking-place. Defeated, but not dismayed-crushed to the earth, but not humiliated- he seemed to grow morehaughty beneath disaster, and to experience a fierce satisfaction indraining the last dregs of bitterness. Little minds are tamed andsubdued by misfortune; but great minds rise above it. The very idea ofsubmission awakened the fury of Philip, and he smote to death one ofhis followers, who proposed an expedient of peace. The brother ofthe victim made his escape, and in revenge betrayed the retreat of hischieftain. A body of white men and Indians were immediately despatchedto the swamp where Philip lay crouched, glaring with fury and despair.

Before he was aware of their approach, they had begun to surround him.

In a little while he saw five of his trustiest followers laid deadat his feet; all resistance was vain; he rushed forth from his covert,and made a headlong attempt to escape, but was shot through theheart by a renegade Indian of his own nation.

Such is the scanty story of the brave, but unfortunate KingPhilip; persecuted while living, slandered and dishonored when dead.

If, however, we consider even the prejudiced anecdotes furnished us byhis enemies, we may perceive in them traces of amiable and loftycharacter sufficient to awaken sympathy for his fate, and respectfor his memory. We find that, amidst all the harassing cares andferocious passions of constant warfare, he was alive to the softerfeelings of connubial love and paternal tenderness, and to thegenerous sentiment of friendship. The captivity of his "beloved wifeand only son" are mentioned with exultation as causing him poignantmisery: the death of any near friend is triumphantly recorded as a newblow on his sensibilities; but the treachery and desertion of manyof his followers, in whose affections he had confided, is said to havedesolated his heart, and to have bereaved him of all furthercomfort. He was a patriot attached to his native soil- a prince trueto his subjects, and indignant of their wrongs- a soldier, daring inbattle, firm in adversity, patient of fatigue, of hunger, of everyvariety of bodily suffering, and ready to perish in the cause he hadespoused. Proud of heart, and with an untamable love of naturalliberty, he preferred to enjoy it among the beasts of the forests orin the dismal and famished recesses of swamps and morasses, ratherthan bow his haughty spirit to submission, and live dependent anddespised in the ease and luxury of the settlements. With heroicqualities and bold achievements that would have graced a civilizedwarrior, and have rendered him the theme of the poet and thehistorian; he lived a wanderer and a fugitive in his native land,and went down, like a lonely bark foundering amid darkness andtempest- without a pitying eye to weep his fall, or a friendly hand torecord his struggle.

THE END

.

1819-20