The Name of War

In July 1676, late in King Philip’s War, a Narragansett warrior, who has killed 19 English settlers and one of their Mohegan allies, is captured by the English and brought to the Mohegans for execution. The warrior stoically suffers the torture of having his fingers and toes individually sawed off, then his legs broken, and finally his head bashed in.

The English—who, despite their alliances with some Indian groups, regard the locals as savages—ease their conscience at the pleasure of watching the Narragansett warrior slowly put to death, thinking, “Their enemy is killed, yet they do not have to kill him” (5).

Settlers come to America to escape oppression in England, yet they struggle to preserve a sense of English identity. If the Indians have always been there, then their savagery is natural, but if they’ve arrived from Europe or Asia, then their barbarism is acquired, which means the English also are in danger of degenerating. The settlers hope that converting the Natives to Christianity might set things right.

By the 1670s, preachers bemoan colonial backsliding, including a drop in church attendance, bestiality, and simply living out west among the Indians. For their part, the Indians worry that their own culture is at risk, as many among them have adopted the Christian faith, English ways, and literacy. When the war begins, each side fights ruthlessly, hoping to rid the land of the other and its threat to their homes and way of life.

One restraint on the English is their fear of being compared to the Spanish, whose viciousness toward Mexican Indians is well known through a book, Spanish Cruelties, a translation of Bartolomé de las Casas' In Defense of the Indians. The English, who think they are kinder and more fair-minded than other Europeans, see themselves as more fit to colonize America.

The Irish Rebellion of 1641 against the English involves cruelty, but the Irish are considered barbarians, and ruthlessness against heathen primitives is permissible. Between that attitude and the opposing concern about being compared to the Spanish, American colonists are of two minds about a conflict with the Algonquians.

The solution is to “wage the war, and win it, by whatever means necessary, and then write about it, to win it again” (11). When the settlers write about the execution of the Narragansett warrior, they describe him as showing no anguish while the Mohegans enjoy themselves, but the settlers are shocked into tears. This helps them explain to the outside world that, far from enjoying Indian savagery, they hold their neighbors at arm’s length.

For the Mohegans, the execution has symbolic significance, both for the community and the prisoner; it is cathartic, including a release of mourning for the condemned man’s victim. The Narragansett prisoner is likely Stonewall John, an Indian mason who changes sides during the war, helps built an Indian fort, and negotiates with Roger Williams.

English witnesses, interested mainly in explaining their side’s viewpoint, ignore what the events mean to the Indians. During the campaign that ends with Stonewall’s execution, the English kill 52 Indian men and 114 women and children. They justify the civilian deaths as “being all young Serpents of the same Brood" (15).

These stories are related in minister William Hubbard’s book Narrative of the Troubles with the Indians in New-England, which sees wide distribution in America and England. The book helps its readers to reaffirm their belief in English virtue and Native barbarism. 

Indian Christian convert and minister John Sassamon travels to Plymouth in January 1675 to warn governor Josiah Winslow of an impending war planned by King Philip, and that Sassamon’s life is in danger for revealing it. Winslow dismisses the story as Indian blather and sends him away. A week later, Sassamon disappears; in February, his body is found beneath pond ice.

In March, a jury of 12 Englishmen and six Indians looks into allegations that Sassamon has been murdered. An eyewitness points the finger at three of Philip’s associates. Sassamon’s body is dug up; it reveals signs of violence. One suspect is made to approach the body, which promptly bleeds freshly; this is considered irrefutable evidence of guilt. The three associates of Philip are judged guilty by a unanimous jury; they are hung on June 8. By June 24, war has begun.

Later witnesses cast doubt on the murder theory, alleging that Sassamon may have drowned by accident or suicide. However, the body, when first raised, has no water in the lungs, proving Sassamon is dead when he goes into the pond; also, the severe damage to his neck is extremely unlikely in a drowning.

The evidence against the three convicted men is thin at best, but it’s highly likely that someone killed Sassamon, and not just for his betrayal of Indian war plans. Many Natives resent him for his haughty Christian proselytizing, while others suggest he was dishonest, at one point trying to cheat Philip out of some land. In the end, Sassamon’s position “as a cultural mediator, as a man who was neither English nor Indian but who negotiated with both peoples" (25) may have been the underlying reason for his murder.

For a time, scholars believe that literacy makes history possible, while oral cultures can only conceive of the past as myths. Later thinking debunks this argument. Literate societies mythologize, and oral cultures remember details of the past, but there remains a distinctive effect on thought and attitudes caused by the recording of history. Literate Indians, caught between two cultures, are quite able to write down accounts of King Philip’s War, yet none do.

Many Indians convert to Christianity during epidemics; some Natives do so on their death beds, so that settlers may adopt their children. Sassamon, one such orphan raised as a Christian, learns English early and becomes an interpreter and soldier for the colonists during the Pequot War of 1637. Most Natives study English so they can read the Bible.

Sassamon translates portions of the Bible into the widely spoken Massachusett; from a young age, he works alongside minister John Eliot, who produces an “Indian Library” of primers, catechisms, religious tracts. With Sassamon’s assistance, Eliot establishes “praying towns” where converted Natives can live away from outside influence; at one town, Sassamon is the schoolmaster. Most teachers of Indians are themselves Indian, as few English settlers want to learn the local languages.

In 1653, Eliot sends Sassamon to Harvard College, where he studies with a number of colonists who become well known, among them Increase Mather. In 1654 Sassamon and Eliot fall out when Sassamon gets drunk, but the two men later continue their work together.

In 1662, Sassamon leaves Eliot to work as translator for the Wampanoag sachem Alexander, and when Alexander dies, for the new leader, Alexander’s younger brother Philip. It’s not known whether Sassamon makes this move because of a falling-out with Eliot or because Eliot has sent him to spy on, and possibly convert, Philip. Sassamon and Eliot continue to communicate, Eliot sending Sassamon reading primers on request and urging the English to support Sassamon’s work.

In 1671, Philip threatens war but backs down. Sassamon serves as messenger and preacher then and during the run-up to the 1675 war; Philip comes to distrust him. Later in 1671, Eliot publishes a short work, Indian Dialogues, that describes conversations in which Indians are converted to Christianity; one, thinly disguised as Philip, listens to Indian missionaries and confesses, “I am drowned and overwhelmed with the weight of your reasonings" (40). In real life, none of it works, and Philip never converts.

Why, then, is Sassamon killed? He’s a literate Christian, which marks him as an Indian who has adopted too much of the English ways; he can’t be trusted.

The war that ensues decimates the Indian population, and most of Eliot’s printed religious books and tracts are burned. The translation experiment collapses; settlers conclude that the Indians cannot be saved and are hopelessly irredeemable. Eliot’s Indian printing press is used for English narratives of the war that condemn the Indians. Few Natives remain who can read Massachusett; within decades, most praying towns become secular or disappear.

Very little war narrative comes from literate Indian Christians of the time who might have added a Native perspective to the histories. It’s possible these witnesses didn’t think of themselves as part of an unfolding history or that it’s important to set down one’s observations for posterity. Thus, the war of words goes to the settlers by default. 

Between 1675 and 1678, more than two dozen histories and essays on King Philip’s War are published in Boston and London, including works by competing ministers Increase Mather and William Hubbard. Mary Rowlandson’s 1682 account of her captivity among the Indians, The Sovereignty and Goodness of God, becomes the first best-selling book in America.

Mather despises Hubbard and his war report; he tries to have allies disparage it before the local authorities, but this attempt backfires, and the Massachusetts Council adds its seal of approval to Hubbard’s work. Freedom of the press is nearly non-existent, and works deemed untruthful by the authorities, especially books that compete with authorized tomes, can be banned and burned.

Control of publishing by the elite, coupled with literacy rates of around 50 percent, partially explain why there aren't more printed narratives of King Philip’s War. The published reports often disparage other narratives and insist that theirs alone is a “True and Perfect Account” or a “true history of this affair” (59) that corrects mistakes in other publications.

During the war, news is hard to come by, much of it inaccurate or false. Any news that reaches England is quickly copied and shared. Colonists have trouble determining Indian losses, as the Natives quickly collect their dead from battlefields. Indians celebrate victories with “co-hoops” of joy shouted out as many times as settlers they have killed, or by marking trees for all to see.

One reason for the sparseness of reports is that witnesses to killings and the burning of towns, stricken with grief, find it hard to write: “[Some] horrors could never be described by the written word" (64). Another reason is that the Indians write almost nothing of their view of the war. Some colonists try to put words in the Natives’ mouths. One writer even suggests that King Philip likely has rallied his warriors with accusations of colonial perfidy: “Of all our country they enjoy the best, / And quickly they intend to have the rest” (68).