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The slain, such as could be found, including Father Rasle, were scalped, and the soldiers retired. Gradually the Indians who had escaped returned to their utterly desolated homes. Even the stoicism of the savage was overcome, as he gazed upon the smouldering ruins, and the gory bodies of his relatives and friends, men, women, and children, which were strewed around. Their first care was to search for the remains of their beloved missionary. These they washed, and with prayers and loud lamentations buried below the altar, where he had so often ministered to them in sacred things. Over the remains they reared a rude cross. Their chief Bomaseen, and the others of the dead, they also buried with such solemnities as they had been taught to exercise.2
The tribe was destroyed. The few woe-stricken survivors, having completed their mournful task, turned sadly from the homes endeared to them by all the associations of childhood, and which their ancestors had occupied through countless gen- erations, and sought refuge with the Penobscots. The name of the Norridgewocks was blotted forever from the register of Indian tribes.
The reader will be interested in reading the account which the French historian, Père de Charlevoix, gives of this tragic
1 "Great brutality and ferocity are chargeable to the English in this affair, according to their own account; such as killing women and children, and scalping and mangling the body of Father Rasle." - Drake's Book of the Indians, book iii. p. 119.
2 For further particulars see Belknap's History of New Hampshire, vol. ii. p. 50; Hutchinson's History of Massachusetts, vol. ii. p. 279; Penhallow's Indian Wars. It will be perceived that there are considerable discrepancies in the details.
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event in his " Histoire et Discoverie Generale de la Nouvelle France." We give a literal translation from the French : -
" There were then but fifty warriors in the village. They seized their arms, and ran tumultuously, not to defend the place against an enemy who had already entered it, but to aid the aged men, the women, and the children in their flight, and to give them time to gain the other side of the river. Father Rasle, apprised, by the clamor and the tumult, of the danger in which his converts were involved, presented himself unintimidated to his assailants, with the hope of drawing upon himself alone their attention, and thus to secure the safety of his flock at the peril of his own life.
" His hope was not in vain. Scarcely had he appeared when the English gave a great shout, which was followed by a shower of bullets, of which he fell dead near a cross which he had planted in the middle of the village. Seven Indians who had accompanied him, and who had wished to make for him a rampart of their own bodies, were killed at his side.
" Thus died this loving pastor, giving his life for his flock, after a labori- ous mission of thirty-seven years. Thrown into consternation by his death, the Indians fled. The English, finding that they had none left to resist them, fell first to pillaging and then to burning the wigwams. They spared the church so long as they thought proper to profane the image of the adora- ble Saviour and the sacred vessels, and then they set it on fire. At length they withdrew in so great precipitation that it was rather a flight. They seemed to be struck with a perfect panic.
" The Indians immediately returned to their village. It was their first care to weep over the body of their holy missionary, while the women were looking for plants and herbs to heal their wounded. They found him shot in a thousand places, scalped, his skull broke to pieces with the blows of the hatchets, his mouth and eyes full of mud, and the bones of his legs frac- tured, and all his members mangled in a hundred different ways. After his converts had raised up and oftentimes kissed the precious remains, so tenderly and so justly beloved by them, they buried him in the same place where he had, the evening before, celebrated the sacred mysteries; namely, where the altar stood before the church was burned.1
In the year 1833, Benedict Fenwick, bishop of Boston, re- paired to the site of the little chapel of Rasle, in Norridgewock, and on the anniversary of its destruction, Aug. 23, erected a monument to the memory of the self-denying missionary.
It was of granite, surmounted by an iron cross. From the foundation to the highest point of the cross is eighteen feet. A Latin inscription, of which the following is a literal transla- tion, was cut into the stone: -
1 Histoire Generale, t. ii. p. 332.
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" Rev. Sebastian Rasle, a native of France, a missionary of the society of Jesuits, at first preaching for a few years to the Illinois and Hurons, afterwards for thirty-four years to the Abenaquis, in faith and charity a true apostle of Christ; undaunted by the danger of arms, often testifying that he was prepared to die for his flock; at length this best of pastors fell amidst arms at the destruction of the village of Norridgewock and the ruins of his own church, in this very place, on the twenty-third day of August, A.D. 1724.
" Benedict Fenwick, Bishop of Boston, has erected this monument, and dedicated it to him and his deceased children in Christ, on the 23d of August, A.D. 1833, to the greater glory of God."
About two years after, some mischievous individuals over- turned the monument. To the credit of the inhabitants of Norridgewock this conduct was not approved by them, as was evinced by their immediately replacing it. The accompanying cut represents this tribute to the memory of Father Rasle.
C RICHARDSON
MONUMENT OF RASLE, NORRIDGEWOCK.
On the 27th the victorious detachment returned to Port Richmond without the loss of a single man. This was con- sidered the most brilliant exploit in the Indian wars since the death of King Philip. Capt. Harmon proceeded to Boston with
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the scalps to obtain the rich reward. He was at once promoted to the rank of lieutenant-colonel.
Still desperate Indian bands infested the frontiers. A regi- ment of three hundred men was raised to range the country from the Kennebec to the Penobscot. This region was the favorite resort of the Indians for fowling and fishing. But the Indians were watchful, and but few were caught. In December Capt. John Lovewell, or Lovel as his name is sometimes spelled, went on a military excursion, with thirty men, to Lake Winni- piseogee, in New Hampshire. They succeeded in killing and scalping one Indian, and in capturing an Indian boy. For these they received in Boston the reward promised by law.
Again in February, 1725, Capt. Lovewell, with forty men, was on the march upon the margin of a small lake, since called Lovewell's Pond, near the head of Salmon Falls River. They came suddenly upon a party of ten Indians, all soundly asleep around their camp-fires. The English silently took deliberate aim, and at a simultaneous discharge of their muskets killed nine, and sorely wounded the tenth. The wounded man sprang to his feet, and endeavored to escape ; but a powerful dog which accompanied the English soon overtook him, and held him till he was despatched with hatchets. For these ten scalps the victors received in Boston universal applause, and the more substantial reward of a thousand pounds sterling.1
The savages still succeeded in occasionally shooting a man. Two very worthy farmers were killed in North Yarmouth. Several others were attacked, and one severely wounded at Cape Porpoise. At Maquoit two Indians captured a man by the name of Cochran. The first night they bound their captive securely ; the second night he was more loosely confined, and
1 Drake gives the following account of this adventure : "Lovewell, with forty men, came upon a small company of ten Indians who were asleep by their fires, and, by stationing his men advantageously, killed them all. After taking off their scalps these forty warriors marched to Boston in great triumph, with the ten scalps, extended upon hoops, for which they received a thousand pounds. This exploit was the more lauded, as it was supposed that these ten Indians were upon an expedition against the English upon the frontiers, having new guns, mnich ammunition, and spare blankets and moccasins to accommodate captives. This, however, was mere conjecture. Whether they had killed friends or enemies was not quite so certain as that they had killed Indians." - Book ili. p. 121.
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the two Indians, weary with a long day's march, fell soundly asleep. Cochran succeeded in loosing his bonds, and, rising softly, with his hatchet killed them both. He took their scalps and their guns, the indisputable proofs of his achievement, and returned to the fort.
SERGEANT LARRABEE'S GARRISON, KENNEBUNK. - 1724.
L SANFORD
CHAPTER XVIII.
THE PROGRESS AND TERMINATION OF LOVEWELL'S WAR.
Encampment at Great Ossipee - Serious Contest - Death of Lovewell - Of Frye - Fate of the English in Lovewell's War - Government Measures - Native Honor- Indian Distresses - Incorporation of Orono - Heath's Ex- pedition - Attack upon Young Castine - The Dummer Treaty - Indian Letters - Cost of Indian Wars - Peace concluded.
0 N the 15th of April, 1725, Capt. John Lovewell set out on another expedition against the Indians. He left Dunstable with forty-six volunteers, thoroughly equipped. They directed their march toward the Ossipee Ponds, near the upper waters of the Saco River. Three of the company gave out under the fatigues of the way, and returned.
When they reached the westerly side of the Great Ossipee Pond, in New Hampshire, about ten miles beyond the west line of Maine, they built a small stockade fort. This was intended as a place of retreat in case of disaster, and also as a hospital for eight of their number who were sick and unable to go any farther. They were then about one hundred miles from home. Here Capt. Lovewell left the sick men with a surgeon and a guard.
With but thirty-two men he resumed his march towards the north-westerly margin of Lovewell's Pond, a distance of about twenty-two miles. This sheet of water, situated in the town of Fryeburg, is about two miles long, and its average width is about half a mile. They moved with much caution, for about two miles west of them there was an Indian village called Peg- wacket. Like most other Indian hamlets, it was delightfully situated in a fertile and romantic spot, commanding a charming view of land and water.
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Here they noiselessly encamped for the night. They heard the confused murmur of distant voices, which they supposed proceeded from the Indians, but encountered no alarm. A chaplain accompanied the party. He was a very noble young man, a recent graduate of Harvard College, by the name of Jonathan Frye. It was their invariable custom to have morn- ing prayers.
While engaged in their devotions they were startled by the report of a gun. Cautiously approaching the edge of the pond, they saw, across the water, at the distance of nearly a mile, a single Indian hunter, who had just discharged his gun at some game. His scalp was worth five hundred dollars. Immediately the party set out to capture him. They had not proceeded far, when they came to a small plain, smooth as a floor, covered with pine trees, and entirely free from underbrush. Such plains often present the most lovely spots in our forest land- scapes.
To expedite their march, the soldiers threw off their packs, and left them in a pile together, without any guard. They could easily retrace their steps and find them. Hurrying on, the whole party soon disappeared amidst the thickening glooms of the forest. After travelling about a mile they came again in sight of the Indian. He was not in the least aware of his dan- ger, and was sauntering along with a shot-gun upon his shoul- der and a few birds in his hand. Several guns were immedi- ately fired at him ; but so hurriedly, and the distance was such, that they all missed their aim. The Indian sprang behind a tree, and saw, at a glance, that escape was impossible. Taking deliberate aim, he fired at Capt. Lovewell, inflicting a serious wound. Almost at the same moment Ensign Wyman fired, and the Indian fell dead, pierced by his bullet. They took his scalp, and returned for their packs.
Ir. the mean time two renowned Indian chiefs, Paugus and Wahwa, returning from a scout down the Saco River, caught sight of the pile of knapsacks. They knew that the owners would soon return for them. By counting the packs they ascer- tained the number of the English. It was not difficult to trace the path upon which the English had advanced. There were
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between seventy and eighty warriors in the Indian band .! They placed themselves in ambush, and awaited the return of their intended victims.
About ten o'clock in the morning of the 8th of May, the English were marching leisurely along, on their return, when they reached the ambush. The Indians, completely surround- ing them, suddenly rose, and with presented guns and loud shouts rushed upon them. These Indians had frequented the western settlements of Maine, and were well acquainted with Capt. Lovewell2 and most of his men. Mr. Drake, in his account of the battle, says that the savages were loath to kill these their former friends, and wished to take them captives. In attestation of this fact, he quotes Mr. Symmes's minute account of the conflict, published the same year in which it took place. It is certain that they did not fire from the ambush when they might so easily have shot down every man without being seen themselves.3
" They presented their guns," says Drake, "and threw away their first fire." This only encouraged the English. Facing their foes, they poured in upon them a deadly fire, and several Indians fell. This ushered in the unequal battle in hot earnest. The Indians, outnumbering the English more than two to one, immediately sprang, each man behind a tree, and, entirely surrounding their victims, commenced the awful slaughter. At the first volley of the Indians, Capt. Lovewell and eight of his men fell dead, and two more were wounded.
But these valiant men, torn by the bullets, fought their way to the pond, which was at the distance of but a few rods. There was here a sandy beach, with a bank rising five or six feet high. The Indians could no longer surround them. The bank presented a rampart to protect them from the bullets of the savages, and from behind which they could take deliberate aim at any foe who should venture to expose hand or head. Here, for eight dreadful hours, these men fought. They were
1 Penhallow says that there were seventy; Hutchinson and Symmes, thirty; Belknap, forty-one; Williamson, sixty-three.
2 Mr. Willis, in his History of Portland, spells Lovewell, Lovell, and calls the Indian village Pequakett, instead of Pegwacket, p. 250. Drake spells it Pigwoket. 8 Drake's Book of the Indians, book iii. p. 123.
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so outnumbered that flight was impossible. They had no food. Their knapsacks, with their spare ammunition, were seized by the savages. There was no chance of any re-enforcements. It would seem that their doom was sealed, and that by no pos- sibility could one escape.
At times there was a brief lull in the battle. The Indians, retiring beyond gunshot, seemed to be holding a council. In one of the councils, or conferences, Ensign Wyman crept through the forest, and shot one of the chiefs. Still the Indians sent a bold warrior within hailing distance of the English, who shouted out, " Will you have quarter ?" It is probable that the English felt assured, that, after they had killed so many of the Indians, no quarter would be granted, and that their inevit- able doom would be death by torture. Their reply was, " We will have no quarter but at the muzzles of our guns."
The firing had become quite desultory. The combatants, upon each side, kept concealed as much as possible, and fired only when quite sure of striking their foe. About the middle of the afternoon, Chaplain Frye received a mortal wound. He lived for several hours, but was heard praying earnestly that God would preserve his surviving companions. There were among the Indians praying men. These also, doubtless, with expiring breath, pleaded with God in behalf of their country- men. Both were unquestionably sincere. Alas for man ! How strange must have been the meeting, in the spirit land, of these fellow Christians, who had killed each other !
During the engagement, the combatants often conversed with each other, from behind their ramparts, separated by but a few yards. They called each other by name, and talked in almost friendly terms. John Chamberlain was a very bold, magnani- mous man, of large stature. His gun had become, by repeated firing, too foul for use. He stepped down to the water to wash it out. Just at that moment Paugus, the Pegwacket chief, wlio was also a man of herculean size, jumped down the bank to wash out his gun. They were at the distance of but a few yards from each other. They were well acquainted, and had formerly met as friends. Paugus could speak English.
The contest now was to see who would get his gun first in
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order. As Paugus rammed down the bullet, he said to his old friend, " I shall now very quick kill you."-" Perhaps not," said Chamberlain, who had the advantage of a gun which, in charging, primed itself. There was an instantaneous flash, fol- lowed by a report, and the Indian chief fell dead.
The savages took great care to keep themselves concealed ; and it is not probable that many of them were slain. At night the Indians withdrew, when it would seem that they must have known that the English were entirely at their mercy. Many of them had fired from twenty to thirty times, and their ammuni- tion was nearly exhausted. It is, however, not improbable that the Indians had expended all theirs. They could only obtain supplies by tedious journeys through the forests to Canada.1
Both Messrs. Penhallow and Symmes, the two most authentic narrators of the battle, estimate that the Indians lost between forty and fifty of their warriors. This is apparently merely con- jecture, and is quite incredible. As they were decidedly the victors, withdrawing of their own accord, not being driven from the field, it is scarcely possible that they could have lost more than half of their number.2
Solomon Keys received three bullet-wounds, and was appar- ently dying. To save his dead body from being mangled by the savages, he rolled himself down the beach to a canoe, which chanced to be there. Almost senseless he succeeded in creep- ing into it. A gentle breeze bletv the canoe across the pond diagonally, and landed it but a short distance from the stockaded fort into which he contrived to creep.
1 "In going to Quebec it is necessary to take more than a fortnight to reach there. They have to furnish themselves with provisions for the journey. They have different rivers to pass, and frequent portages to make. The Indians are aware of these inconveniences, and are by no means indifferent to their interests. But their faith is infinitely more dear to them. They believe, that, if they detach themselves from our alliance, they will shortly find themselves without a mission- ary, without a sacrifice, and in manifest danger of being plunged into their former heathenism. This is the bond which unites them to the French." - Father Rasle's Letter, found in " Lettres Edifiantes et Curieuses."
2 Penhallow, in his History of the Indian Wars, represents the number of Indians engaged in this conflict, at seventy. Of these he says that forty were killed outright, and eighteen were mortally wounded who soon died. This makes a total loss, in dead, of fifty-eight. Thus, according to this estimate, twelve only escaped with their lives. In every battle there are many wounded, who subse- quently recover. Did these twelve escape wounds? or was every Indian either killed or wounded?
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As the sun went down the moon rose, shedding its pale light over the gloomy forest. The savages had disappeared, leaving solitude and silence to reign over the dismal scene of slaughter. It is impossible to account for the fact that they left the dead bodies of Capt. Lovewell and his men unscalped. The survivors felt that not a moment was to be lost in the attempt to gain the fort. There were but twenty-two living. Two of these were mortally wounded. They could not be removed. They were left to die alone. There was no possible escape for them from this cruel fate. They had cause to fear that the savages would return and wreak vengeance upon them, in the most direful tortures. Eightothers were wounded more or less severely ; but still they were able to hobble along in the awful midnight retreat. There were but twelve unwounded. This heroic band had fought all day, without food ; and, half famished, they com- menced their painful march. Dreadful was the situation of the exhausted, bleeding troops, without food, tents, blankets, or any means for dressing a wound. The dead were left unburied, as these war-stricken men commenced their retreat.1
Chaplain Frye, a dying man, mortally wounded, as we have said, toiled along a mile or two, when he threw himself upon the ground saying, " I cannot take another step. Here I must die. Should you ever, through God's help, reach your homes, tell my father, that I expect in a few hours to be in eternity, but that I do not fear to die." ?
All the night long the survivors toiled through the forest, expecting every moment to hear the war-whoop of the approach- ing savages, who had probably gone to their village for fresh supplies of ammunition. Perhaps they found none there ; and this may account for their relinquishing the pursuit. In the
1 Accuracy, in the details of these events, is impossible. The same annalist will often give contradictory statements. Williamson says, "Collecting together in the evening, they found that there were ten already dead, nine uninjured, one missing, and fourteen wounded."
Again he writes, "Twenty of them, leaving the fatal spot, directed their march towards the fort. Eight were lame or full of anguish from their wounds." - Williamson, vol. ii. p. 132.
2 This noble young man, who had displayed great heroism, was the son of Capt. James Frye of Andover, Mass. His amiable and promising character had given him many friends; and he died greatly lamented. He had kept a journal of their march, which, unfortunately, was lost with him.
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morning the fugitives divided into three bands, hoping thus to be able to conceal their trail. Nearly twenty men, walking in single file, would leave a track which the eagle-eyed Indian could easily discern.
At length sixteen of them reached the fort, where they had hoped to find refreshment and a reserved force. In a direct line it was distant from the battle-field but about twenty miles. Still by the circuitous route which they took, and encumbered by the wounded, several of whom soon died, three or four days were spent on the journey. To their bitter disappointment they found the fort deserted. It appeared afterwards, that when the savages first sprang from their ambush, deafening the ear with their hideous yells, one of the Englishmen succeeded in escaping. He saw the utter hopelessness of his companions surrounded by apparently three times their own number. · Upon reaching the fort, he gave an account, no less true than frightful, of the condition of his comrades. Capt. Lovewell and several others were already killed. The rest were sur- rounded, and were selling their lives as dearly as possible.
The feeble band, for only the sick had been left behind, ex- pecting every moment to hear the yells of the approaching savages, precipitately fled. Fortunately they left behind them some provisions. The starving fugitives, after a short rest, resumed their doleful march. Their sufferings from famine, pain, and weariness, cannot be adequately described. Fourteen finally reached their homes.1 Such are the particulars, so far as can now be ascertained, of what has been called " Lovewell's Victory."? A provincial poet of those days commemorated the event in verses which at the time obtained much renown, and which were pensively sung in many farmhouses. We give the three closing stanzas : -
" Ah! many a wife shall rend her hair, And many a child cry ' Woe is me,' When messengers the news shall bear Of Lovewell's dear-bought victory.
1 Drake's Book of the Indians, book iii. p. 125.
2 Mr. Williamson writes, "The battle of Pegwacket broke the heart and spirit of the Sokosis natives. In a short time they withdrew, and resided no more in those pleasant and ancient dwelling-places, till peace. After this event the star of the tribe, pale and declining, gradually settled in darkness." - Vol. ii. p. 141.
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