Military men figured prominently in the leadership of the first English
colonies in North America and, as one would expect, brought with them
to the NewWorld their European-derived conceptualization of unlimited
war.11 The mercenaries who led the first colonies' small armies - John
Smith in Virginia, Myles Standish at Plymouth, John Mason in Connecticut,
and John Underhill in Massachusetts - were products of Wars of
Religion that had ravaged Europe from the mid-sixteenth to the midseventeenth
centuries. The conflicts in which they learned their craft were
brutal affairs. Fueled by the passions of the Reformation and Counter
Reformation, late-sixteenth- and early-seventeenth-century European soldiers
had little compunction about, and some would say almost a preference,
for putting towns to the torch and noncombatants to death.
Tragically for the Indian peoples of the Eastern seaboard, the mercenaries
unleashed a similar way of war in early Virginia and New England.
Military necessity, the colonists believed, demanded that they turn to
extirpative war, what today's soldiers term unlimited warfare, manifested
by the destruction of enemy noncombatants and their agricultural resources.
Over the course of nearly four decades, the English colonists of
Virginia embraced increasingly harsher measures for dealing with their
Indian neighbors, until by 1646 they had made the killing of Indian noncombatants
their preferred strategy and tactic.
In Virginia in 1607, the Jamestown colonists were at a loss over how to
deal with Powhatan warriors who stealthily moved through the woods,
attacked working details, and then, John Smith wrote, “by the nimbleness
of their heels escaped.”12 Smith, as the individual responsible for the
colony's defense, responded with a crash training program to teach the
settlers “to march, fight, and skirmish in the woods [so that they] were
better able to fight.”13 He abandoned that course, however, when he
realized it had done little to turn Englishmen into effective woodland
warriors. Smith then turned to what he and his men knew best.
Noting that “if they assaulted us, their Towns they cannot defend,”
Smith engaged the Powhatans in a “feedfight,” or the destruction of
Powhatan fields and villages. The feedfight had worked well for the
English in Ireland, but in North America it was a dangerous gamble.14 The
English were dependent on the Indians for food, and if any group were to
starve in Virginia because soldiers had destroyed crops and fields, it would
be the settlers. Needing therefore to do more than burn Indian fields to secure
victory, Smith warned “King” Powhatan that if his subjects attacked
English foragers, the colonists would seek ghastly retribution against the
Indians' wives and children. Smith learned that making good on such
threats worked. When, for example, the Indians refused to return several
Englishmen they had taken captive, Smith and his men sallied forth “and
burnt their Towns, and spoiled, and destroyed, what they could, but they
brought our men and freely delivered them.”15
The extirpation of Indians, rather than just a feedfight, became the order
of the day when full-fledged war between the English and Powhatans
erupted in August 1609. After a year of inconclusive skirmishing in which
the English found themselves virtually trapped in Jamestown, Virginia's
Governor Thomas Gates, in August 1610, ordered a full-scale mobilization
of the colony's meager military resources under George Percy, a veteran
of the Wars of Religion in the Netherlands. Percy was “to take Revenge”
and destroy the Paspaheghs.16 Their extirpation, Gates and Percy
hoped, would serve as a powerful deterrent for other Indian villages that
might join Powhatan's war with the English.
Few contemporary accounts relate the depths of ferocity of the settlers'
extirpative war better than George Percy's A Trewe Relacyon. Upon arriving
at a Paspahegh village, Percy recalled, he and his men “beset the
savages' houses that none might escape.” Upon his signal, the English
fell in upon them, put some fifteen of sixteen to the Sword and
Almost all the rest to flight, Whereupon I caused my drum to
beat and drew all my Soldiers to the Colors. My Lieutenant
bringing with him the Queen and her Children and one Indian
prisoner for which I taxed him because he had Spared them, his
Answer was that having them now in my Custody I might do
with them what I pleased. Upon the same I caused the Indian's
head to be cut off. And then disposed my files Appointing my
Soldiers to burn their houses and to cut down their Corn
growing about the Town, And after we marched with the queen
And her Children to our Boats again, where being no sooner
well shipped my soldiers did begin to murmur because the
queen and her Children were spared. So upon the same a
Council being called it was Agreed upon to put the Children to
death, the which was effected by Throwing them overboard and
shooting out their Brains in the water. Yet for all this Cruelty
the Soldiers were not well pleased.17
Only after the return to camp was the soldiers' bloodlust satisfied. The
colonists, genuinely fearing all Indians and eager to expropriate the natives'
lands, proved uninterested in granting quarter of any kind to their
Indian enemies. Thus, a certain Captain Davis, Percy related, believed
that it was “best to Burn” the “queen” of the Paspaheghs. Percy, however,
determined to “give her A quicker dispatch. So turning myself from
Captain Davis he did take the queen with two soldiers Ashore and in the
woods put her to the Sword.”18
Similarly, extirpative war became the colonists' modus operandi during
the misnamed First Indian War of 1622-1632. The “massacre” of
1622 in which the Powhatan Confederacy under Opechancanough, King
Powhatan's brother and successor, attacked virtually every English settlement
along the James River hardened the settlers' attitudes toward the
Indians. Although a friendly Indian warned the English of the impending
attack, nearly 350 of the colony's settlers perished, or almost 30 percent of
the European population.19 GeorgeWyatt, upon learning of the slaughter,
advised his son Francis, then Governor of Virginia, that the settlers'
Game are the wild and fierce Savages haunting the Deserts and
woods. Some are to be taken in Nets and Toils alive, reserved to
be made tame and serve to good purpose. The most bloody to
be rendered to due revenge of blood and cruelty, to teach them
that our kindnesses harmed are armed.
Smith, speaking for many victims of the attack, wrote from London, “now
we have just cause to destroy them by all means possible.”21
When they proved incapable of catching and extirpating Opechancanough's
people, the English fell back on the feedfight and destroyed
the Indians' provisioning grounds as a means of subjugating them. John
Martin, a planter who sought to use the Indians as slaves, suggested that
the English could starve the Indians into submission by denying them access
to their food supplies. To that end, Martin proposed to use 200 soldiers
to torch Indian fields and destroy fishing weirs. During the summer
months, Martin advised, English shallops should patrol the waterways
and kill Indians attempting to fish. At the same time, the government
should forbid all trade in corn between settlers and Indians, even those
Indians friendly to the settlers. With the Indians thus weakened, he argued,
settlers could enslave them and take their land for the cultivation of
hemp, flax, and silk. In June 1622, theVirginia Council embraced Martin's
plan and began the systematic destruction of the Powhatans' agricultural
resources. In that month the colony's small army set “upon the Indians in
all places,” and “slain divers, burnt their Towns, destroyed their Wears
[weirs] & Corn.”22 The campaigns continued the next year. A survey of
the colony's military rosters shows that of the 180 men fit for military
duty in 1623, 80 took up “carrying corn,” that is, destroying Powhatan
fields.23 In 1624, the Virginia Council created a special company of “60
fighting men (whereof 24 were employed only in the Cutting down of
Corn)” to destroy Indian crops. In the ensuing operations against maize
and legumes, the settlers deemed each field destroyed a “great Victory”
and relished how the Indians “gave over fighting and dismayedly, stood
most ruefully looking on while their Corn was Cut down.”24 The raids,
nonetheless, proved quite dangerous; the 1624 operations alone cost the
English 16 casualties. Such losses, however, were acceptable since, as
Governor Wyatt observed, the colonists had destroyed as much corn “as
would have sustained 400 men for a twelvemonth.”25
After 12 years of peace that saw English control of the Tidewater grow,
and unable to drive them from Virginia, Opechancanough must have
hoped to reestablish an English-Indian balance of power in which Indianscould maintain independence and initiative. Thus began the Tidewater
War of 1644-1646. As in the Massacre of 1622, the Powhatans attacked
the English settlements. Rather than cowing the colonists into dealing
with them as coequals, the Massacre of 1644 only enraged the English.
The colonists' reaction to what they perceived as the most recent example
of Indian nefariousness was a total embrace of extirpative war. The
House of Burgesses raised five times the number of men as it had for the
1622 campaigns.26 The Tidewater War involved no single event that we
rightly can call a “battle.” Instead, it consisted of two years of unrelenting
English raids on Indian villages and fields that starved nearly every Indian
out of the James Valley. When this was added to the capture and murder
of the septuagenarian Opechancanough, the few remaining Indians
of the Tidewater had little option but to accept total English dominance
in eastern Virginia.
The Tidewater War's end ushered in 30 years of peace for Virginians
and made extirpative war their preferred and primary form of warfare.27
Whereas the English originally had room for some Indians among them -
they needed Indians to provide food and labor - as the number of
first European indentured servants and then African slaves increased in
Virginia, English use for Indians disappeared. Thus, by 1646, after two
generations of extirpative war and exposure to European diseases had
devastated most of the tribes of the Tidewater, the victors displaced the
survivors to reserves set away from European settlements and seized their
lands, a policy with which the colonists had first experimented in the
wake of the Massacre of 1622.28 While some tribes, like the Piscataways
of Maryland, managed to avoid total dislocation by accepting demeaning
tributary status, as far as the English were concerned they had sufficiently
abandoned their Indian ways. The English would tolerate Indians within and near their settlements provided that they essentially neither saw
nor heard them. Of course, in the struggle to find a path “between total
war and complete capitulation,” Indians like the Piscataways managed
to maintain elements of their cultural identity.29 Similarly, as Englishmen
constructed their new identity as the conquerors and overlords of
Virginia, they made extirpative war the defining part of their culture of
war making.
Peaceful relations, with only minor exceptions, created an environment
of coexistence between Englishmen and Indians in early New England.30
Unlike the Jamestown colony, located in the middle of the territory controlled
by the most powerful Indian confederacy on the Atlantic seaboard,
a disastrous epidemic of European diseases between 1617 and 1619 had
destroyed perhaps 80 percent of the Indian population of New England.
As a result, New England's Indians, at least in the early days of settlement,
seemed more tractable to English interests. Yet when war broke
out in 1636, the Puritans ignored the years of peace, leaped over the
feedfight, and moved directly to the extirpation of their Indian enemies.
Indians villages, and therefore noncombatants, were the main target
of the English in the Pequot War, New England's first large-scale military
conflict.31 In response to English attempts to kidnap Pequot women
and children to stand as hostages for the Indians' good behavior, the
Pequots attacked English settlements on the lower Connecticut River.
John Endicott and 90 Massachusetts men countered with a raid on the
Pequots' village on Block Island, which they burned with its surrounding
fields. After Endicott retreated, the Pequots laid siege to Connecticut's
Fort Saybrook. That siege and the ensuing months of Indian raids showed
the colonists how vulnerable they were to Indian attacks and made clear
the need for direct, concerted action against the Pequots. Connecticut
thereupon commissioned its resident mercenary, Captain John Mason, to
subjugate the Pequots.32
In May 1637, Mason led 90 Connecticut soldiers, with the assistance of
70 Massachusetts troops under John Underhill, against the Indian “fort”
on the Mystic River. While there were in fact two main Pequot forts - one
with mainly warriors in it and one with women, children, and old men -
Mason prudently selected the latter as his troops' target.
The English destruction of the Mystic River fort stands as the most
infamous event in the early military history of New England, as well
as a striking example of the place extirpative warfare occupied in early
Americans' military culture. As soon as the English attack began, some
Pequots retreated to their wigwams to barricade themselves inside, others
tried to flee the fort, and still others took cover under their beds to hide
from the English attackers who broke in to shoot and stab defenseless
Pequot women and children. Mason and Underhill led the way in the
slaughter and showed their men by personal example what they expected
of them. Coming upon some Pequots in a lane between two rows of
wigwams, Mason and a party of troops chased them to the end of the lane,
backed them into a corner, and dispatched them with swords. Mason then
came upon two English soldiers standing idly by watching the massacre.
Upbraiding them - “We [the English] should never kill them after that
manner” - an inspiration struck him: “We must Burn them.”33 He thus
stepped into a wigwam, removed a firebrand, and set the structure afire.
Underhill, seeing what Mason had done, kindled a fire on the other side of
the compound. The two fires spread quickly, joined, and soon engulfed the
entire compound in flames, “to the extreme Amazement of the Enemy, and
a great Rejoicing of our selves.” Two other officers then joined Mason in
setting the wigwams aflame while the shocked “Indians ran as Men most
dreadfully Amazed.”34
The Puritans of New England had set loose a way of war unfamiliar
to the Indians. The precontact Indian culture of war making among the
Eastern Woodland Indians often was a mix of a highly evolved and ritualized
system of limited war and the quest for individual glory. Within
the Indian conceptualization of “mourning war,” particularly among
Iroquoian peoples, vanquished foes and captives often “replaced” losses
in native communities. Indian raiding parties would venture forth, take
captives, return to the war party's home village with those captives, and apportion them among grieving clans. At that point, the elder women of
the clan determined the fate of the captive: males usually suffered death by
excruciating torture; the captors most often incorporated women and children
into their society.35 The Narragansetts therefore joined the English
in hopes of reaping a large harvest of prisoners, booty, and glory. But
as the Narragansetts observed after the fact, the English ways were “too
furious” and “slays too many men.”36 Although the scale of the slaughter
shocked even him, Underhill contended that it was necessary. “Should not
Christians have more mercy and compassion?” he asked. “Sometimes,”
he answered, “the Scripture declare the women and children must perish
with their parents.”37
The slaughter at the Mystic River village was only the first act of
Connecticut's war of extirpation. Many New Englanders believed that
the way to preserve the security of their homes, especially since they had
made the Pequots an intractable enemy, was to complete the extirpation of
the Pequots that they began on the Mystic River. They therefore embarked
on a campaign in which they and the Narragansetts pursued the surviving
Pequots, “ranging the country until they destroyed many of them, and the
rest were so scattered and dispersed.”38 On one such expedition, Mason
and 40 Englishmen came upon 200 old men, women, and children holed
up in a swamp. With the Pequots destroyed as a military power, Mason
was “loath to kill Women and Children.” Instead, he put the men to the
sword and “spared” the remaining 180 women and children by enslaving
them.39
The few remaining bands of Pequots, near starvation and lacking either
the strength or the will to fight, found themselves at the mercy of
the colonists. When the Pequot sachems sued for peace and prostrated themselves before the English and Narragansetts at Hartford, all that
remained of a nation that had totaled at least 2,000 souls at the beginning
of the war was 180 to 200 half-starved survivors.40 Seeing that total
victory was in their grasp, the Puritans apportioned the surviving Pequots
among their Narragansett and Mohegan allies as slaves and then forbade
the Pequots to inhabit their native lands or even to maintain the name
Pequot. Connecticut, weighing the “several Inconveniences that might
ensue” from a Pequot “revival,” then sent Mason and 40 men to burn
the Pequots' remaining wigwams and destroy their cornfields.41
Connecticut's decisive victory over the Pequots served as an ominous
harbinger to the other Indians of southern New England. When tensions
over English encroachments on Indian lands almost erupted into open
conflict between the settlers and the Narragansetts in 1643 and 1644,
for example, New Englanders responded quickly. Plymouth gave Captain
Myles Standish command of a small army, while Massachusetts prepared
for war by designating 30 percent of each militia company to be prepared
to take the field within half an hour's notice.42 The Narragansetts, seeing
the settlers' preparations and recalling the fate of the Pequots when they
had fought the English, appealed to King Charles I for redress. In the early
1640s, however, Charles I faced issues more pressing than the abuse of
Indian rights perpetrated by his subjects in Boston. Thus in the summer
of 1645 the Narragansetts, who had come to understand that war against
the New Englanders could lead to apocalypse, agreed to a treaty in which
they accepted tributary status. The threat of extirpation at the hands of
the English had come to hang like a Damoclean sword over the heads of
Southern New England's Indians.
I. Extirpative War Comes to English
North America, 1607-1646
Military men figured prominently in the leadership of the first English
colonies in North America and, as one would expect, brought with them
to the NewWorld their European-derived conceptualization of unlimited
war.11 The mercenaries who led the first colonies' small armies - John
Smith in Virginia, Myles Standish at Plymouth, John Mason in Connecticut,
and John Underhill in Massachusetts - were products of Wars of
Religion that had ravaged Europe from the mid-sixteenth to the midseventeenth
centuries. The conflicts in which they learned their craft were
brutal affairs. Fueled by the passions of the Reformation and Counter
Reformation, late-sixteenth- and early-seventeenth-century European soldiers
had little compunction about, and some would say almost a preference,
for putting towns to the torch and noncombatants to death.
Tragically for the Indian peoples of the Eastern seaboard, the mercenaries
unleashed a similar way of war in early Virginia and New England.
Military necessity, the colonists believed, demanded that they turn to
extirpative war, what today's soldiers term unlimited warfare, manifested
by the destruction of enemy noncombatants and their agricultural resources.
Over the course of nearly four decades, the English colonists of
Virginia embraced increasingly harsher measures for dealing with their
Indian neighbors, until by 1646 they had made the killing of Indian noncombatants
their preferred strategy and tactic.
In Virginia in 1607, the Jamestown colonists were at a loss over how to
deal with Powhatan warriors who stealthily moved through the woods,
attacked working details, and then, John Smith wrote, “by the nimbleness
of their heels escaped.”12 Smith, as the individual responsible for the
colony's defense, responded with a crash training program to teach the
settlers “to march, fight, and skirmish in the woods [so that they] were
better able to fight.”13 He abandoned that course, however, when he
realized it had done little to turn Englishmen into effective woodland
warriors. Smith then turned to what he and his men knew best.
Noting that “if they assaulted us, their Towns they cannot defend,”
Smith engaged the Powhatans in a “feedfight,” or the destruction of
Powhatan fields and villages. The feedfight had worked well for the
English in Ireland, but in North America it was a dangerous gamble.14 The
English were dependent on the Indians for food, and if any group were to
starve in Virginia because soldiers had destroyed crops and fields, it would
be the settlers. Needing therefore to do more than burn Indian fields to secure
victory, Smith warned “King” Powhatan that if his subjects attacked
English foragers, the colonists would seek ghastly retribution against the
Indians' wives and children. Smith learned that making good on such
threats worked. When, for example, the Indians refused to return several
Englishmen they had taken captive, Smith and his men sallied forth “and
burnt their Towns, and spoiled, and destroyed, what they could, but they
brought our men and freely delivered them.”15
The extirpation of Indians, rather than just a feedfight, became the order
of the day when full-fledged war between the English and Powhatans
erupted in August 1609. After a year of inconclusive skirmishing in which
the English found themselves virtually trapped in Jamestown, Virginia's
Governor Thomas Gates, in August 1610, ordered a full-scale mobilization
of the colony's meager military resources under George Percy, a veteran
of the Wars of Religion in the Netherlands. Percy was “to take Revenge”
and destroy the Paspaheghs.16 Their extirpation, Gates and Percy
hoped, would serve as a powerful deterrent for other Indian villages that
might join Powhatan's war with the English.
Few contemporary accounts relate the depths of ferocity of the settlers'
extirpative war better than George Percy's A Trewe Relacyon. Upon arriving
at a Paspahegh village, Percy recalled, he and his men “beset the
savages' houses that none might escape.” Upon his signal, the English
fell in upon them, put some fifteen of sixteen to the Sword and
Almost all the rest to flight, Whereupon I caused my drum to
beat and drew all my Soldiers to the Colors. My Lieutenant bringing with him the Queen and her Children and one Indian
prisoner for which I taxed him because he had Spared them, his
Answer was that having them now in my Custody I might do
with them what I pleased. Upon the same I caused the Indian's
head to be cut off. And then disposed my files Appointing my
Soldiers to burn their houses and to cut down their Corn
growing about the Town, And after we marched with the queen
And her Children to our Boats again, where being no sooner
well shipped my soldiers did begin to murmur because the
queen and her Children were spared. So upon the same a
Council being called it was Agreed upon to put the Children to
death, the which was effected by Throwing them overboard and
shooting out their Brains in the water. Yet for all this Cruelty
the Soldiers were not well pleased.17
Only after the return to camp was the soldiers' bloodlust satisfied. The
colonists, genuinely fearing all Indians and eager to expropriate the natives'
lands, proved uninterested in granting quarter of any kind to their
Indian enemies. Thus, a certain Captain Davis, Percy related, believed
that it was “best to Burn” the “queen” of the Paspaheghs. Percy, however,
determined to “give her A quicker dispatch. So turning myself from
Captain Davis he did take the queen with two soldiers Ashore and in the
woods put her to the Sword.”18
Similarly, extirpative war became the colonists' modus operandi during
the misnamed First Indian War of 1622-1632. The “massacre” of
1622 in which the Powhatan Confederacy under Opechancanough, King
Powhatan's brother and successor, attacked virtually every English settlement
along the James River hardened the settlers' attitudes toward the
Indians. Although a friendly Indian warned the English of the impending
attack, nearly 350 of the colony's settlers perished, or almost 30 percent of
the European population.19 GeorgeWyatt, upon learning of the slaughter,
advised his son Francis, then Governor of Virginia, that the settlers'
Game are the wild and fierce Savages haunting the Deserts and
woods. Some are to be taken in Nets and Toils alive, reserved to
be made tame and serve to good purpose. The most bloody to
be rendered to due revenge of blood and cruelty, to teach them
that our kindnesses harmed are armed. Smith, speaking for many victims of the attack, wrote from London, “now
we have just cause to destroy them by all means possible.”21
When they proved incapable of catching and extirpating Opechancanough's
people, the English fell back on the feedfight and destroyed
the Indians' provisioning grounds as a means of subjugating them. John
Martin, a planter who sought to use the Indians as slaves, suggested that
the English could starve the Indians into submission by denying them access
to their food supplies. To that end, Martin proposed to use 200 soldiers
to torch Indian fields and destroy fishing weirs. During the summer
months, Martin advised, English shallops should patrol the waterways
and kill Indians attempting to fish. At the same time, the government
should forbid all trade in corn between settlers and Indians, even those
Indians friendly to the settlers. With the Indians thus weakened, he argued,
settlers could enslave them and take their land for the cultivation of
hemp, flax, and silk. In June 1622, theVirginia Council embraced Martin's
plan and began the systematic destruction of the Powhatans' agricultural
resources. In that month the colony's small army set “upon the Indians in
all places,” and “slain divers, burnt their Towns, destroyed their Wears
[weirs] & Corn.”22 The campaigns continued the next year. A survey of
the colony's military rosters shows that of the 180 men fit for military
duty in 1623, 80 took up “carrying corn,” that is, destroying Powhatan
fields.23 In 1624, the Virginia Council created a special company of “60
fighting men (whereof 24 were employed only in the Cutting down of
Corn)” to destroy Indian crops. In the ensuing operations against maize
and legumes, the settlers deemed each field destroyed a “great Victory”
and relished how the Indians “gave over fighting and dismayedly, stood
most ruefully looking on while their Corn was Cut down.”24 The raids,
nonetheless, proved quite dangerous; the 1624 operations alone cost the
English 16 casualties. Such losses, however, were acceptable since, as
Governor Wyatt observed, the colonists had destroyed as much corn “as
would have sustained 400 men for a twelvemonth.”25
After 12 years of peace that saw English control of the Tidewater grow,
and unable to drive them from Virginia, Opechancanough must have
hoped to reestablish an English-Indian balance of power in which Indians could maintain independence and initiative. Thus began the Tidewater
War of 1644-1646. As in the Massacre of 1622, the Powhatans attacked
the English settlements. Rather than cowing the colonists into dealing
with them as coequals, the Massacre of 1644 only enraged the English.
The colonists' reaction to what they perceived as the most recent example
of Indian nefariousness was a total embrace of extirpative war. The
House of Burgesses raised five times the number of men as it had for the
1622 campaigns.26 The Tidewater War involved no single event that we
rightly can call a “battle.” Instead, it consisted of two years of unrelenting
English raids on Indian villages and fields that starved nearly every Indian out of the James Valley. When this was added to the capture and murder of the septuagenarian Opechancanough, the few remaining Indians
of the Tidewater had little option but to accept total English dominance
in eastern Virginia.
The Tidewater War's end ushered in 30 years of peace for Virginians
and made extirpative war their preferred and primary form of warfare.27
Whereas the English originally had room for some Indians among them -
they needed Indians to provide food and labor - as the number of
first European indentured servants and then African slaves increased in
Virginia, English use for Indians disappeared. Thus, by 1646, after two
generations of extirpative war and exposure to European diseases had
devastated most of the tribes of the Tidewater, the victors displaced the
survivors to reserves set away from European settlements and seized their
lands, a policy with which the colonists had first experimented in the
wake of the Massacre of 1622.28 While some tribes, like the Piscataways
of Maryland, managed to avoid total dislocation by accepting demeaning
tributary status, as far as the English were concerned they had sufficiently
abandoned their Indian ways. The English would tolerate Indians within and near their settlements provided that they essentially neither saw
nor heard them. Of course, in the struggle to find a path “between total
war and complete capitulation,” Indians like the Piscataways managed
to maintain elements of their cultural identity.29 Similarly, as Englishmen
constructed their new identity as the conquerors and overlords of
Virginia, they made extirpative war the defining part of their culture of
war making.
Peaceful relations, with only minor exceptions, created an environment
of coexistence between Englishmen and Indians in early New England.30
Unlike the Jamestown colony, located in the middle of the territory controlled
by the most powerful Indian confederacy on the Atlantic seaboard,
a disastrous epidemic of European diseases between 1617 and 1619 had
destroyed perhaps 80 percent of the Indian population of New England.
As a result, New England's Indians, at least in the early days of settlement,
seemed more tractable to English interests. Yet when war broke
out in 1636, the Puritans ignored the years of peace, leaped over the
feedfight, and moved directly to the extirpation of their Indian enemies.
Indians villages, and therefore noncombatants, were the main target
of the English in the Pequot War, New England's first large-scale military
conflict.31 In response to English attempts to kidnap Pequot women
and children to stand as hostages for the Indians' good behavior, the
Pequots attacked English settlements on the lower Connecticut River.
John Endicott and 90 Massachusetts men countered with a raid on the
Pequots' village on Block Island, which they burned with its surrounding
fields. After Endicott retreated, the Pequots laid siege to Connecticut's
Fort Saybrook. That siege and the ensuing months of Indian raids showed
the colonists how vulnerable they were to Indian attacks and made clear the need for direct, concerted action against the Pequots. Connecticut
thereupon commissioned its resident mercenary, Captain John Mason, to
subjugate the Pequots.32
In May 1637, Mason led 90 Connecticut soldiers, with the assistance of
70 Massachusetts troops under John Underhill, against the Indian “fort”
on the Mystic River. While there were in fact two main Pequot forts - one
with mainly warriors in it and one with women, children, and old men -
Mason prudently selected the latter as his troops' target.
The English destruction of the Mystic River fort stands as the most
infamous event in the early military history of New England, as well
as a striking example of the place extirpative warfare occupied in early
Americans' military culture. As soon as the English attack began, some
Pequots retreated to their wigwams to barricade themselves inside, others
tried to flee the fort, and still others took cover under their beds to hide
from the English attackers who broke in to shoot and stab defenseless
Pequot women and children. Mason and Underhill led the way in the
slaughter and showed their men by personal example what they expected
of them. Coming upon some Pequots in a lane between two rows of
wigwams, Mason and a party of troops chased them to the end of the lane,
backed them into a corner, and dispatched them with swords. Mason then
came upon two English soldiers standing idly by watching the massacre.
Upbraiding them - “We [the English] should never kill them after that
manner” - an inspiration struck him: “We must Burn them.”33 He thus
stepped into a wigwam, removed a firebrand, and set the structure afire.
Underhill, seeing what Mason had done, kindled a fire on the other side of
the compound. The two fires spread quickly, joined, and soon engulfed the
entire compound in flames, “to the extreme Amazement of the Enemy, and
a great Rejoicing of our selves.” Two other officers then joined Mason in
setting the wigwams aflame while the shocked “Indians ran as Men most
dreadfully Amazed.”34
The Puritans of New England had set loose a way of war unfamiliar
to the Indians. The precontact Indian culture of war making among the
Eastern Woodland Indians often was a mix of a highly evolved and ritualized
system of limited war and the quest for individual glory. Within
the Indian conceptualization of “mourning war,” particularly among
Iroquoian peoples, vanquished foes and captives often “replaced” losses
in native communities. Indian raiding parties would venture forth, take
captives, return to the war party's home village with those captives, and apportion them among grieving clans. At that point, the elder women of
the clan determined the fate of the captive: males usually suffered death by
excruciating torture; the captors most often incorporated women and children
into their society.35 The Narragansetts therefore joined the English
in hopes of reaping a large harvest of prisoners, booty, and glory. But
as the Narragansetts observed after the fact, the English ways were “too
furious” and “slays too many men.”36 Although the scale of the slaughter
shocked even him, Underhill contended that it was necessary. “Should not
Christians have more mercy and compassion?” he asked. “Sometimes,”
he answered, “the Scripture declare the women and children must perish
with their parents.”37
The slaughter at the Mystic River village was only the first act of
Connecticut's war of extirpation. Many New Englanders believed that
the way to preserve the security of their homes, especially since they had
made the Pequots an intractable enemy, was to complete the extirpation of
the Pequots that they began on the Mystic River. They therefore embarked
on a campaign in which they and the Narragansetts pursued the surviving
Pequots, “ranging the country until they destroyed many of them, and the
rest were so scattered and dispersed.”38 On one such expedition, Mason
and 40 Englishmen came upon 200 old men, women, and children holed
up in a swamp. With the Pequots destroyed as a military power, Mason
was “loath to kill Women and Children.” Instead, he put the men to the
sword and “spared” the remaining 180 women and children by enslaving
them.39
The few remaining bands of Pequots, near starvation and lacking either
the strength or the will to fight, found themselves at the mercy of
the colonists. When the Pequot sachems sued for peace and prostrated themselves before the English and Narragansetts at Hartford, all that
remained of a nation that had totaled at least 2,000 souls at the beginning
of the war was 180 to 200 half-starved survivors.40 Seeing that total
victory was in their grasp, the Puritans apportioned the surviving Pequots
among their Narragansett and Mohegan allies as slaves and then forbade
the Pequots to inhabit their native lands or even to maintain the name
Pequot. Connecticut, weighing the “several Inconveniences that might
ensue” from a Pequot “revival,” then sent Mason and 40 men to burn
the Pequots' remaining wigwams and destroy their cornfields.41
Connecticut's decisive victory over the Pequots served as an ominous
harbinger to the other Indians of southern New England. When tensions
over English encroachments on Indian lands almost erupted into open
conflict between the settlers and the Narragansetts in 1643 and 1644,
for example, New Englanders responded quickly. Plymouth gave Captain
Myles Standish command of a small army, while Massachusetts prepared
for war by designating 30 percent of each militia company to be prepared
to take the field within half an hour's notice.42 The Narragansetts, seeing
the settlers' preparations and recalling the fate of the Pequots when they
had fought the English, appealed to King Charles I for redress. In the early
1640s, however, Charles I faced issues more pressing than the abuse of
Indian rights perpetrated by his subjects in Boston. Thus in the summer
of 1645 the Narragansetts, who had come to understand that war against
the New Englanders could lead to apocalypse, agreed to a treaty in which
they accepted tributary status. The threat of extirpation at the hands of
the English had come to hang like a Damoclean sword over the heads of
Southern New England's Indians.
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