NEw England, a name now every day more famous, is so called, because the English were the first Discoverers, & are now the Planters thereof. It is the Easterne Coast of the North part of America, upon the Southwest adjoyning to Virginia, and part of that Continent, large and capable of innumerable people. It is in the same height with the North of Spaine, and South part of France, and the temper not much unlike, as pleasant, as temperate and as fertile as either, if managed by industri­ous hands.

[Page]This is the Stage. Let us in a word see the Actors. The yeare 1620, a Company of English part out of the Low Countries, and some out of London and other parts, were sent for Virginia. But being cut short by want of wind, and hardnesse of the Winter, they landed themselves in this Countrey, enduring, with great hope and patience, all the misery that Desart could put upon them, and imployed their wits to make their best use of that then Snow-covered land for their necessities. After two yeares experience of the nature of the soyle, commodities, and natives, they returned such intelligence to their Masters, that others tooke notice of their endevours, and the place. Then some Westerne Merchants collected a stocke, and employed it that way. But they dis­couraged through losses, and want of present gaine, some Londoners, and others (men of worth) undertooke it, with more resolution, building upon the old foundation. Hence a second planta­tion adjoyned to the other, but supported [Page] with better pillars, and greater meanes. All beginnings are ever difficult. The halfe, saith the Proverbe, is more then the whole. Some errours were committed, and many miseries were endured. No man is wise enough to shunne all evils that may happen; but patience and painefulnesse overcame all. The successe proved answerable even to ambitious ex­pectations, notwithstanding the impedi­ments inevitable to such undertakings.

There is scarce any part of the world but habitable, though more commodi­ously by humane culture. This part (though in it's Naturals) nourished ma­ny natives, distinguished into divers petty nations and factions. It were needlesse curiosity to dispute their originall, or how they came hither. Their outsides say they are men, their actions say they are rea­sonable. As the thing is, so it operateth. Their correspondency of disposition with us, argueth all to be of the same constitu­tion, & the sons of Adam, and that we had the same Maker, the same matter, the same [Page] mould. Only Art and Grace have given us that perfection, which yet they want, but may perhaps be as capable therèof as we. They are of person straight and tall, of limbes big and strong, seldome seene vio­lent, or extreme in any passion. Naked they go except a skin about their waste, and sometimes a Mantle about their shoulders. Armed they are with Bowes and Arrowes, Clubs, Iavelins, &c. But as soyle, aire, diet; & custome make ofttimes a memorable difference in mens natures, so is it among these Nations, whose coun­tries there are like so many Shires here, of which every onè hath their Sagamore, or King, who as occasion urgeth, comman­deth them in Warre, and ruleth them in Peace. Those where the English pitched, have shewed themselves very loving and friendly, and done courtesies beyond ex­pectation for these new-come Inmates. So that much hath beene written of their civilitie and peacefull conversation, untill this yeare.

But Nature, heavens daughter, and the [Page] immediate character of that divine pow­er, as by her light she hath taught us wise­dome, for our owne defence, so by her fire she hath made us fierce, injurious, re­vengefull, and ingenious in the device of meanes for the offence of those we take to be our enemies. This is seene in crea­tures voide of reason, much more in man­kind. We have in us a mixture of all the Elements, and fire is predominant when the humours are exagitated. All motion causeth heat. All provocation mooveth choller, and choller inflamed, becom­meth a phrensie, a fury, especially in bar­barous and cruell natures. These things are conspicuous in the Inhabitants of New England. In whose Southermost part are the Pequets, or Pequants, a stately warlike people, which have been terrible to their neighbours, and troublesome to the English.

In February last they killed some English at Sea-brooke, a Southerly Planta­tion beyond Cape Cod, at the mouth of the River of Connectacutt. Since that the [Page] Lievtenant of the Fort there, with tenne men armed, went out to fire the Med­dowes, and to fit them for mowing. Ar­riving there he started three Indians, which he pursued a little way, thinking to cut them off. But presently they per­ceived themselves incompassed with hundreds of them, who let flie their ar­rowes furiously, and came desperately up­on the musles of their Muskets, though the English discharged upon them, with all the speed they could. Three English men were were slaine, others wounded. The eight that remained, made their way through the Salvages with their swords, and so got under the command of the Canon of the Fort, (otherwise they had been all slaine, or taken prisoners) one of the wounded falling downe dead at the Forts Gate The Indians thus fleshed and encouraged, besieged the Fort as neere as they durst approach. The besieged pre­sently dispatched a messenger to the Go­vernour at the Bay, to acquaint him with these sad tidings, who with all speed lent [Page] unto their aide, Captaine Vnderhill, with twenty souldiers. Not long after these Salvages went to Water-Towne, now cal­led Wetherfield, and there fell upon some that were sawing, and slew nine more, whereof one was a woman, the other a childe, and tooke two yong Maids priso­ners, killing some of their cattell, and dri­ving some away. Mans nature insulteth in victory and prosperity, and by good successe is animated even in the worst of wicked actions. These Barbarians trium­phed and proceeded, drawing into their Confederacy other Indians, as the Nyante­cets, and part of the Mohigens; of whom about fifty chose rather to joyne with the English, and sat downe at New-Towne, at Connectacut (now called Hereford, as the other Towne that went from Dorchester thither is called Windsore.) Fame encrea­seth by flying. The former sad newes was augmented by the report of sixtie men slaine at Master Pinch [...]s Plantation, &c. which proved false. The N [...]gansets neighbours to the Pequets, sent word to [Page] the English that the Pequets had sollicited them to joyne their forces with them. Hereupon the Councell ordered that none should go to worke, nor travell, no not so much as to Church, without Arms. A Corps of Guard of 14. or 15 souldiers was appointed to watch every night, and Centinels were set in convenient places about the Plantations, the. Drumme bea­ting when they went to the Watch, and every man commanded to be in readi­nesse upon an Alarme, upon paine of five pound. A day of fast and prayers was also kept. Fourty more were sent to streng­then the former twenty that went to the Fort, and 50 under the command of Cap­tain Mason, which being conjoyned, were about100. Two hundred more were to be sent after them with all expedition.

The 50 Mohigins that joyned with the English, scouring about, espied 7 Pequets, killed five of them outright, wounded the sixt mortally, took [...] the seventh prisoner, and brought him to the Fort. He braved the English, as though they durst not kill a [Page] Pequet. Some will have their courage to be thought invincible, when all is desperate. But it availed this Salvage nothing; they tied one of his legs to a post, and 20 men with a rope tied to the other, pulled him in pieces, Captain Vnderhill shooting a pistol through him, to dis­patch him. The two Maids which were taken prisoners were redeemed by the Dutch.

Those 50 sent from the three plantations of Connectacut with Captain Mason, being joyned with Captain Vnderhill and his 20 men, (for the other 40 were not yet arrived with them) immediately went upon an expedition against the Pequets, after they had searched for them. The manner was this. The English with some Mohigens went to the Naragonsets, who were discontented that they came no sooner, saying they could arme and set forth two or three hundred at six houres warning, (which they did accordingly, for the assistance of the Eng­lish) onely they desired the advice of the Saga­more, Mydutonno, what way they should go to worke, and how they should fall on the Pe­quets; whose judgement, in all things, agreed with the English, as though they had consulted together. Then went they to the Nyanticke, and [Page] he set forth 200 more, but before they went, he swore them after his maner upon their knees. As they marched they deliberated which Fort of the Pequets they should assault, resolving upon the great Fort, and to be there that night. Being on the way, and having a mile to march through woods and Swamps, the Nyanticke hearts failed, for feare of the Pequets, and so they ran away, as also did some of the Narra­gansets. Of five or 600 Indians, not above halfe were left: and they had followed the rest had not Capttaine Vnderhill upbraided them with cowardise, and promised them they should not fight or come within shot of the Fort, but onely surround it afarre off. At breake of day the 70 English gave the Fort a Volly of shot, whereat the Salvages within made an hide­ous and pittifull cry, the shot without all que­stion flying through the Pallisadoes (Which stood not very close) and killing or wounding some of them. Pitty had hindred further hostile proceedings, had not the remembrance of the bloodshed, the captive Maid, and cruell inso­lency of those Pequets, hardned the hearts of the English, & stopped their eares unto their cries. Mercy marres all somtimes, severe Iustice must now and then take place.

[Page 11]The long forbearance, and too much lenitie of the English toward the Virginian Salvages, had like to have beene the destruction of the whole Plantation. These Barbarians (ever treacherous) abuse the goodnesse of those that condescend to their rudenesse and imperfections. The English went, resolutely up to the dore of the Fort. What shall wee enter said Captaine Vnder-hill? What come we for else? answered one Hedge, a young Northampton-shire gentleman: who advancing before the rest, pluckt away some bushes and en­tred. A stout Pequet encounters him, shootes his arrow (drawne to the head) into his right arme, where it stuck. He slasht the Salvage betwixt the arme and shoulder, who pressing towards the dore, was killed by the English. Immediatly Ma­ster Hedge incountred another, who perceiving him upon him before he could deliver his arrow, gave backe: but he struck up his heeles and run him thorow; after him hee killed two or three more. Then about halfe the English entred, fell on with courage, and slew manie. But being strait­ned for roome because of the Wigwams (which are the Salvage huts or cabins) they called for fire to burne them. An English man stept into a Wig­wam and stooping for a fire-brand, an Indian [Page 12] was ready to knock out his braines. But he whipt out his sword and runne him into the belly, that his bowels followed. Then were the Wigwams set on fire, which so raged, that what therewith, what with the sword, in little more than an houre, betwixt three and foure hundred of them were killed, and of the English onely two, one of them by our owne Muskets, as is thought. For the Narragansets beset the Fort so close, that not one escaped. The whole worke ended, ere the Sun was an houre high, the Conquerors retraited downe toward the Pinnace, but in their march were infested by the rest of the Pequets: Who scouting up and downe, from the swamps and thickets let flie their arrowes amaine, which were answered by English bullets. The Indians that then assisted the English, waiting the fall of the Pequets,(as the dogge watcheth the shot of the fouler to fetch the prey) still fetched them their heades, as any were slaine. At last the Narragan­sets perceiving powder and shot to faile, and fea­ring to fall into the hands of their enemies, be­tooke themselves to flight upon the sudden, and were as suddenly encompassed by the Pequets: Feare defeateth great armies. If an apprehension of eminent danger once possesse them, it is in [Page 13] vaine to stay the runne awaies. No oratory can re­call them, no command can order them againe. The onely sure way, is by all meanes that may be, promises, threats, perswasions, &c. to maintaine and keepe up courage, where yet it is. But these fearefull companions had one Anchor, whose cable was not broken. They sent speedily to the English, who came to their reskew: and after five Muskets discharged the Pequets fled. Thus freed from that feare, they vowed henceforth to cleave closer to the English, and never to forsake them in time of need. The reason why the Englsh wan­ted amunition was, because they had left that which they had for store with their drum at the place of their consultation: But found it in their returne. They now all went a ship-board and say­led to Seabrooke-Fort, where the English feasted the Narragansets three daies, and then sent them home in a pinnace.

Let mee now describe this military fortresse which naturall reason & experience hath taught them to erect, without mathematicall skill, or use of yron toole. They choose a piece of ground dry and of best advantage, forty or fifty foote square. (But this was at least 2 acres of ground.) here they pitch close together, as they can young [Page 14] trees and halfe trees, as thicke as a mans thigh, or the calfe of his legge. Ten or twelve foote high they are above the ground, and within ram­med three foote deepe, with undermining, the earth being cast up for their better shelter against the enemies dischargements. Betwixt these pal­lisadoes are divers loope-holes, through which they let flie their winged messengers. The doore for the most part is entred side-waies, which they stop with boughes or bushes as need requi­reth. The space within is full of Wigwams, where­in their wives and children live with them. These huts or little houses are framed like our garden arbours, something more round, very strong and handsome, covered with close wrought mats, made by their women of flagges, rushes, and hempen threds, so defensive, that neither raine, though never so sad and long, nor yet the winde, though never so strong can enter. The top through a square hole giveth passage to the smoke, which in rainy weather, is covered with a pluver. This Fort was so crowded with these numerous dwellings, that the English wan­ted foote-roome to graple with their adversaries, and therefore set fire on all.

The Mohigens which sided with the English [Page 15] in this action behaved themselves stoutly. Which the other Pequets understanding, cut off all the Mohigens that remaine with them, (lest they should turne to the English) except seven: who flying to our Countrey-men related this newes, and that about an hundred Pequets were slaine or hurt, in the fight with the English at their returne from the Fort. Moreover that they had resolved to have sent an hundred choyce men out of their Fort as a party against the English, the very day after they were beaten out by them. But being now vanquished Sasacus the Pequetan Captaine, with the remainder of this massacre was fled the Countrey.

It is not good to give breathing to a beaten enemy, lest he returne armed if not with greater puissance, yet with greater despight and revenge. Too much security or neglect in this kinde hath oft times ruined the Conquerours. The 200 En­glish therefore, resolved on before, were now sent forth to chase the Barbarians and utterly roote them out. Whereupon Cap. Vnderhill with his 20 men returned and gave this account of those exploits of the New-Englanders, which here we have communicated to the old English world. This last partie invaded the Pequetan Countrie, [Page 16] killed twenty three, saved the lives of two Saga­mores for their use hereafter, as occasion shall serve, who have promised to doe great matters for the advancing of the English affaires. They pursued the remnant threescore miles beyond the Country (till within 36. miles of the Dutch plan­tations on Hudsons river) where they fought with them, killed fortie or fiftie besides those that they cut off in their retrait, and tooke prisoners 180, that came out of a Swampe and yeilded them­selves upon promise of good quarter. Some o­ther small parties of them were since destroyed, and Captaine Patrick with 16. or 18. brought 80 Captives to the Bay of Boston. The newes of the flight of Sassacus their Sagamore, is also confir­med. He went with forty men to the Mowhacks, which are cruell bloodie Caniballs, and the most terrible to their neighbours of all these nations: but will scarce dare ever to carrie armes against the English, of whom they are sore afraid, not daring to encounter white men with their hot-mouth'd weapons, which spit nothing else but bullets and fire.

The terrour of victorie changeth even the affe­ction of the allies of the vanquished, and the se­curing of our owne estates makes us neglect, yea [Page 17] forsake, or turne against our confederates, and side with their enemies and ours, when wee despaire of better remedie. These cruell, but wily Mow­hacks, in contemplation of the English, and to procure their friendship, entertaine the fugitive Pequets and their Captaine, by cutting off all their heads and hands, which they sent to the English, as a testimony of their love and service.

A day of thanksgiving was solemnly celebra­ted for this happie successe, the Pequetans now seeming nothing but a name, for not lesse than 700. are slaine or taken prisoners. Of the English are not slaine in all above 16. One occurrent I may not forget. The endeavours of private men are ever memorable in these beginnings: the meanest of the vulgar is not incapable of vertue, and consequently neither of honour. Some acti­ons of Plebeians have elsewhere beene taken for great atchievements. A pretty sturdy youth of new Ipswich, going forth, somewhat rashly, to pursue the Salvages, shot off his Musket after them till all his powder and shot were spent; which they perceiving, re-assaulted him, thinking with their hatchets to have knocked him in the head. But he so bestirred himselfe with the stock of his piece, and after with the barrell, when that [Page 18] was broken, that hee brought two of their heads to the armie. His owne desert and the incou­ragement of others will not suffer him to bee namelesse. Hee is called Francis Waine-wright, and came over servant with one Alexander Knight that kept an Inne in Chelmsford.

I have done with this tragick scene, whose ca­tastrophe ended in a triumph. And now give mee leave to speake something of the present state of things there. The transcribing of all Colonies is chargeable, fittest for Princes or states to undertake. Their first beginnings are full of casuality and danger, and obnoxious to many miseries. They must bee well grounded, well followed, and mannaged with great stocks of money, by men of resolution, that will not bee daunted by ordinarie accidents. The Ber­muda's and Virginia are come to perfection from meane, or rather base beginnings, and almost by as weake meanes, beyond all expectation, and reason. But a few private men by uniting their stocks and desires have now raised new­England to that height, that never any planta­tion of Spaniards, Dutch, or any other arrived at in so small a time. Gaine is the load-stone of adventures: Fish and Furres, with Beaver wooll, [Page 19] were specious baites. But whiles men are all for their private profit, the publique good is neglected and languisheth. Woe­full experience had too evidently instru­cted New Englands Colones in the prece­dents of Guiana, the Charibe Ilands, Vir­ginia, and Novonia, or New-found-land, (now againe to bee planted by Sir David Kirke, though part of the old planters there yet remaine.) Wee are never wiser, than when wee are thus taught. The new Englanders therefore advanced the weale publique all they could, and so the private is taken care for.

Corne and Cattell are wonderfully en­creased with them, and thereof they have enough, yea sometime to spare to new commers, besides spare roomes, or good houses to entertaine them in. Where they may make Christmas fires all winter, if they please for nothing. I speake not of the na­turals of the Countrey, fish, fowle, &c. which are more than plentifull. They that arrived there this yeere out of divers parts of Old England say that they never saw [Page 20] such a field of 400 acres of all sorts of English graine as they saw at Winter-towne there. Yet that ground is not comparable to other parts of New England, as Salem, Ipswich, Newberry, &c. In a word, they have built faire Townes of the lands owne materials, and faire Ships too, some where of are here to be seene on the Thames. They have overcome cold and hunger, are dis­pearsed securely in their Plantations sixty miles along the coast, and within the Land also along some small Creekes and Rivers, and are assured of their peace by killing the Barbarians, better than our English Virgi­nians were by being killed by them. For ha­ving once terrified them, by severe execu­tion of just revenge, they shall never heare of more harme from them, except (perhaps) the killing of a man or two at his worke, upon advantage, which their Centinels, and Corps du guards may easily prevent. Nay, they shall have those bruites their servants, their slaves, either willingly or of necessity, and docible enough, if not obsequious. The numbers of the [Page 21] English amount to above thirty thou­sand, which (though none did augment them out of England) shall every day bee, doubtlesse, encreased, by a facultie that God hath given the Brittish Ilanders to beget and bring forth more children, than any other nation of the world: I could justifie what I say from the mouthes of the Hollanders and adjoyning Provinces, where they confesse (though good breeders of themselves) that never woman bore two children, nor yet had so many by one man, till the English and Scotch frequen­ted their warres and married with them. I could give a good reason hereof from na­ture, as a Philosopher (with modestie bee it spoken) but there is no neede. The aire of new England, and the Diet equall, if not excelling that of old England: besides their honour of marriage, and carefull preven­ting and punishing of furtive congression giveth them and us no small hope of their future puissance, and multitude of subjects. Herein, saith the Wiseman, consisteth the strength of a King, and likewise of a nation, or Kingdome.

[Page 22]But the desire of more gaine, the slavery of mankinde, was not the onely cause of our English endeavours for a plantation there. The propagation of Religion was that pre­cious jewell, for which these Merchant ven­turers compassed both Sea and Land, and went into a farre Country to search and seat themselves. This, I am sure, they pretended, and I hope intended. Onely this blessing from my heart I sincerely wish them, and shall ever beseech the Almightie to bestow upon them, devout Piety towards God, faithfull loyaltie towards their Soveraigne, fervent charity among themselves, and dis­cretion and sobriety in themselves, accor­ding to the saying of that blessed Apostle, [...] Rom 12. 3. Not to bee wise (in spirituall things) above what wee ought to bee wise; but to bee wise unto wise sobriety.

Doubtlesse there was no other way bet­ter to chastise the insolencie of these insulting homicides, than a sharpe warre pursued with dexterity and speed. Virginia our mother plantation, and for her precedent a rule, hath [Page 23] taught us what to do in these difficulties; fore­warned, forearmed. They were endangered by their friendship and peace, secured by their enmity and warre with the natives. From these experiments, shall the now inhabitants of those two Sister Lands, beat out unto themselves an Armour of proofe, and lay a sure foundation to their future happi­nesse.