The Wept of Wish-Ton-Wish | Page 3

even the
written annals of the first century of our possession of America,
connect the Baron de la Castine with the Jesuits, who were thought to
entertain views of converting the savages to Christianity, not
unmingled with the desire of establishing a more temporal dominion
over their minds. It is, however, difficult to say whether taste, or
religion, or policy, or necessity, induced this nobleman to quit the
saloons of Paris for the wilds of the Penobscot. It is merely known that

he passed the greater part of his life on that river, in a rude fortress that
was then called a palace, that he had many wives, a numerous progeny,
and that he possessed a great influence over most of the tribes that
dwelt in his vicinity. He is also believed to have been the instrument of
furnishing the savages, who were hostile to the English, with
ammunition, and with weapons of a more deadly character than those
used in their earlier wars. In whatever degree he may have participated
in the plan to exterminate the Puritans, death prevented him from
assisting in the final effort of Metacom.
The Narragansetts are often mentioned in these pages. A few years
before the period at which the tale commences, Miantonimoh had
waged a ruthless war against Uncas, the Pequod or Mohegan chief.
Fortune favored the latter, who, probably assisted by his civilized allies,
not only overthrew the bands of the other, but succeeded in capturing
the person of his enemy. The chief of the Narragansetts lost his life,
through the agency of the whites, on the place that is now known by the
appellation of "the Sachem's plain."
It remains only to throw a little light on the leading incidents of the war
of King Philip. The first blow was struck in June, 1675, rather more
than half a century after the English first landed in New-England, and
just a century before blood was drawn in the contest which separated
the colonies from the mother country. The scene was a settlement near
the celebrated Mount Hope, in Rhode-Island, where Metacom and his
father had both long held their councils. From this point, bloodshed and
massacre extended along the whole frontier of New-England. Bodies of
horse and foot were enrolled to meet the foe, and towns were burnt, and
lives were taken by both parties, with little, and often with no respect
for age, condition, or sex.
In no struggle with the native owners of the soil was the growing power
of the whites placed in so great jeopardy, as in this celebrated contest
with King Philip. The venerable historian of Connecticut estimates the
loss of lives at nearly one-tenth of the whole number of the fighting
men, and the destruction of houses and other edifices to have been in an
equal proportion. One family in every eleven, throughout all
New-England, was burnt out. As the colonists nearest the sea were
exempt from the danger, an idea may be formed, from this calculation,
of the risk and sufferings of those who dwelt in more exposed

situations. The Indians did not escape without retaliation. The principal
nations, already mentioned, were so much reduced as never afterwards
to offer any serious resistance to the whites, who have since converted
the whole of their ancient hunting-grounds into the abodes of civilized
man. Metacom, Miantonimoh, and Conanchet, with their warriors, have
become the heroes of song and legend, while the descendants of those
who laid waste their dominions, and destroyed their race, are yielding a
tardy tribute to the high daring and savage grandeur of their characters.

The Wept of Wish-Ton-Wish

Chapter I.

"I may disjoin my hand, but not my faith."
Shakespeare.
The incidents of this tale must be sought in a remote period of the
annals of America. A colony of self-devoted and pious refugees from
religious persecution had landed on the rock of Plymouth, less than half
a century before the time at which the narrative commences; and they,
and their descendants, had already transformed many a broad waste of
wilderness into smiling fields and cheerful villages. The labors of the
emigrants had been chiefly limited to the country on the coast, which,
by its proximity to the waters that rolled between them and Europe,
afforded the semblance of a connexion with the land of their forefathers
and the distant abodes of civilization. But enterprise, and a desire to
search for still more fertile domains, together with the temptation
offered by the vast and unknown regions that lay along their western
and northern borders, had induced many bold adventurers to penetrate
more deeply into the forests. The precise spot, to which we desire to
transport the imagination of the reader, was one of these establishments
of what may, not inaptly, be called