From
Plymouth to Gainsborough and from Southampton to Scrooby, towns all over
England have been anticipating Mayflower 400, with plans to mark what has been seen as a historic
moment four centuries ago when the Plymouth Pilgrims arrived in the New World
and set up their Massachusetts colony.
After so much hard work to prepare
pageants and exhibitions the disruption and postponement of events caused by
Covid 19 is being keenly felt.
Myles Standish Way, Chorley
Image
credit: Chorley Council
Most
of the Pilgrims came from the East of England – none was from Devon. But
Chorley in Lancashire was particularly proud of its link with the Mayflower through Captain Miles
Standish, the Pilgrims’ military commander.
The
Standish family were Lords of the Manor of Duxbury to the south of Chorley.
Miles named his estate in New England Duxbury after what is thought to be his
manorial birthplace. The town reciprocated by naming one of its roads after
him.
In some ways it seems incongruous that the
Pilgrims, seeking spiritual freedom, should have felt the need for military aid
in their New World venture.
St Laurence Church, where the Standish family worshipped
Chorley
people seem less concerned by this aspect than by Standish’s family connections
to the area. ‘He is an enigma, a man of mystery and almost a
virtual being,’ observe the Friends of St Laurence Church in Chorley’s town
centre, where they have been researching Standish’s early life.
Plimoth Plantation, a replica reconstruction of
the original Pilgrim village in Plymouth, Massachusetts, including the palisade
surrounding the settlement Image credit: Nancy
What they describe as ‘a chronic lack of evidence’
makes it well nigh impossible to answer the obvious and interesting questions
about him, such as the date and place of his birth, his family origins and his
career prior to joining the Mayflower Pilgrims in 1620.
An 1873 lithograph depicting the expedition
against Nemasket led by Standish and guided by his Indian friend Hobbamock
A major issue with regard to Miles Standish,
especially in the period leading up to the confrontation on Fishermen’s Field
is the brutality he displayed in hostile encounters with Native Americans.
Four years
before, in August 1621, he led an abortive night raid on the village of
Nemasket in an attempt to kill Corbitant, a chief from the Wampanoag Indian
tribe suspected of plotting against the Plymouth Pilgrims. Standish failed to capture Corbitant, but the raid had the desired effect. The following month, nine sachems or chiefs, including Corbitant, came to Plymouth, to sign a treaty of loyalty to King James.
Better known is the so-called Wessagusset Massacre of March
1623. Standish had invited Chiefs Pecksuot and Wittawamut and several other
warriors of the Massachusett tribe to what had been described as a ‘peaceful
summit’. On an arranged signal, the door was shut and
Standish attacked Pecksuot, stabbing him repeatedly with the man's own
knife. Wituwamat and three other warriors were put to death along with several native villagers.
Wituwamat’s head was cut off and displayed on a pole as a warning. As a consequence, Plymouth’s trade with the Indians was devastated for years.
The scene is the deck of the ship Speedwell before the departure of Protestant pilgrims for the New World from Delft Haven, Holland, on July 22, 1620. Pastor John Robinson leads Governor Carver, William Bradford, Miles Standish, and their families in prayer, as depicted by the American artist Robert W. Weir (1803-89) in his Embarkation of the Pilgrims (1857) Image credit: Architect of the
Capitol
News of the massacre and Standish’s role in it alarmed the Rev John Robinson, the Plymouth Pilgrims’ former pastor
in Holland. This is what he wrote to the Pilgrims from Leyden on 19 December
1623:
‘Concerning the killing of those poor Indians of
which we heard at first by report, and since by more certain relation, oh! how
happy a thing had it been if you had converted
some before you had killed any! Besides where
blood is once begun to be shed, it is seldom stanched of a long time after. You
will say they deserved it. I grant it : but upon
what provocations and invitements by those
heathenish Christians! Besides, you being no magistrates over them, were to
consider not what they deserved, but what you were by necessity constrained to
inflict. Necessity of this, especially of killing so many (and many more it
seems they would if they could) I see not. Methinks one or two principals
should have been full enough, according to that approved rule ‘The punishment
to the few, and the fear to the many.’ Upon this occasion let me be bold to
exhort you seriously to consider the disposition of your Captain whom I love,
and am persuaded the Lord in great mercy and for much good hath sent you him,
if you use him aright. He is a man humble and meek among you and toward all, in
ordinary course: but now, if this be merely from a human spirit there is cause
to fear that, by occasion especially of provocation, there may be wanting that
tenderness of the life of man, made after God's image, which is meet. It is
also a thing more glorious in men’s eyes than pleasing in God's or convenient
for Christians, to be a terror to poor barbarous people, and, indeed, I am
afraid lest, by these occasions, others should be drawn to affect a kind of ruffling course in the world.’
The title page of the Rev William Hubbard's General History of New England
Standish’s reputation for such violence was well established
by 1625 when the encounter on Fishermen’s Field took place. The Captain was a dangerous man to cross, as is clear from the words of the Rev William
Hubbard (1621-1704), to whom Roger Conant gave an account of the incident.
‘Capt. Standish had been bred a soldier in the
Low Countries, and never entered the school of our Saviour Christ, or of John
Baptist, his harbinger,’ wrote Hubbard in his General
History of New England, ‘or, if he was ever
there, had forgot his first lessons, to offer violence to no man, and to part
with the cloak rather than needlessly contend for the coat, though taken away
without order. A little chimney is soon fired; so was the Plymouth captain, a
man of very little stature, yet of a very hot and angry temper. The fire of his
passion soon kindled, and blown up into a flame by hot words, might easily have
consumed all, had it not been seasonably quenched.’
Illustration from the story by the 19th century
American author Nathaniel Hawthorne ‘The Maypole of Merrymount’. Hawthorne’s striking observation – ‘Jollity and gloom were contending for an empire’ –
leaves the reader in no doubt as to where his sympathies lay
Three years later, in June 1628,
saw Standish in action at the Merrymount colony in modern-day Quincy MA. Its
English founder Thomas Morton had infuriated the Plymouth Puritans with what
were viewed as his heathenish beliefs. Merrymount’s 80ft maypole was a
particular target of the Puritans’ anger and Miles Standish was sent to arrest
Morton and destroy the maypole.
‘Captain Shrimp’ was Morton’s
name for Standish when he recounted the episode in his three-volume New English Canaan (1637). Perhaps he was thinking of Standish when he later wrote that the local Indians were ‘more full of humanity
than the Christians’.
American historian Jeremy Belknap
and the title page of his work American Biographies
Very different was the view of
Miles Standish as an American hero expressed by later writers in a proudly free United States, following the victorious outcome of the War of Independence against
Britain.
‘Sedentary persons are not always
the best judges of a soldier’s merit or feelings,’ wrote the clergyman and
historian Jeremy Belknap (1744-98), aiming no doubt at William Hubbard’s
criticism of the Captain. While acknowledging that Standish had his faults, Belknap
was laying the foundations for the pedestal on which the Puritans’ military
commander would achieve his iconic status in the eyes of the American public.
‘If the arm of flesh to establish
the rights and defend the lives and property of Colonists, in a new country,
surrounded with enemies and false friends, certainly such a man as Standish,
with all his imperfections, will hold a high rank among the worthies of
New-England,’ he wrote in his two-volume American
Biographies, published in 1794 and 1798.
25,000 copies of Longfellow's poem were sold in the
first two months of publication. The depiction of Standish on the cover of this edition is by the American artist N.C. Wyeth (1882-1945), known for his illustrations of The Last of the Mohicans (1826) and Treasure Island (1883)
By the 19th century, the Captain had
become a folk hero, partly because of Longfellow’s 1858 poem The Courtship of Miles Standish.
American historian John Stevens Cabot Abbott and the title page of his book Miles Standish The Puritan Captain
The
historian John Stevens Cabot Abbott (1805-77), author of Miles Standish The Puritan Captain (1872) writes in epic style of
the 1623 Wessagusset Massacre in which the Massachusett chief Pecksuot was
murdered. Standish is described as ‘a conquering hero’ congratulated by his
Puritan friends on his return to Plymouth for ‘his success in his chivalric
adventure’:
‘Captain Standish was a slender man, of small
stature. Pecksuot was almost a giant. The savage approached him, whetting his
knife, and boasting of his power to lay the “little man” low. The other Indians
were equally insulting and threatening, with both word and gesture. The
Captain, perfectly preserving his calmness and self-possession, ordered the
door to be shut and fastened, that no other Indians could come in. Then, giving
the signal to the others of his men, he sprang, with the wonderful strength and
agility for which he was celebrated, upon the burly savage, wrenched the knife,
which was sharp as a needle at the point, from his hand, and after a desperate
conflict, in which he inflicted many wounds, succeeded in plunging it to the
hilt in the bosom of his foe. In like manner Wituwamat and the other Indian,
after the fiercest struggle, during which not a word was uttered, were killed.
Wituwamat’s brother, a boastful, blood-thirsty villain of eighteen, was taken
and hanged, for conspiring for the massacre of the English.’
Abbott’s account is that of the
triumphalist historian: ‘As we have mentioned, the unintelligent Indians often
behaved like children,’ he explains. ‘This energetic action seemed to overwhelm
all those tribes with terror, who were contemplating a coalition with the
Massachusetts Indians against the English. They acted as if bereft of reason,
forsaking their houses, fleeing to the swamps, and running to and fro in the
most distracted manner. Many consequently perished of hunger, and of the
diseases which exposure brought on. The planting season had just come. In their
fright they neglected to plant; and thus, in the autumn, from want of their
customary harvest of corn, many more perished.’
For Abbott, the massacre was
justified because of the alleged conspiracy against the Plymouth colony in
which Pecksuot and Wituwamat were involved: it was evident that
‘Captain Standish was the
military commander of the colony, and in a sense responsible for its safety;
that the measures he adopted were purely in self-defense, and that in no other
way could he possibly have saved the colonies from massacre.’
Standish with the head of Wittawamut
Artist unknown Source: www.clipart.com
To those critics of the manner in
which the Indian chiefs had been killed, Abbott retorted that one cannot apply
today’s moral standards to the past:
‘Captain Standish took back with him the head
of Wituwamat, which was placed upon the fort as a warning to all hostile
Indians. This measure has been severely censured. But it is replied that the
savages, whose bloodthirsty desires were fully roused, could be influenced by
deeds only, and not by words; that no people should be blamed for not being in
advance of the age in which they lived, and that more than a century after
this, in the year 1747, in refined and Christian England, the heads of the
lords, who were implicated in the Scots rebellion, were exposed upon Temple
Bar, the most frequented avenue between London and Westminster.’
Abbott’s
book was inscribed to the many thousands of the descendants of Miles Standish.
In the Preface he wrote: ‘It has been a constant pleasure to the author to
endeavor to rear a worthy tribute to the heroic captain and the noble man, who
was one of the most illustrious of those who laid the foundations of this great
Republic.’
For centuries, Miles Standish has been seen by most Americans as the brave man who ensured the survival of the Plymouth Pilgrims by his bold actions. In the Massachusetts town of Weymouth, this tablet placed in 1923 to commemorate the 350th anniversary of the settlement commemorates the killing of the Indian chiefs Pecksuot and Wituwaumet as an act 'averting serious disaster to the colonies'. The tablet was rededicated by the Weymouth Historical Commission in 1998.
American historian Nathaniel Philbrick and his 2006 book Mayflower
A story of courage, community and war
Modern writers have been more circumspect about
Standish and his role in early America. For historian Nathaniel Philbrick,
Standish’s raid, combined with the complexities of inter-tribal Indian politics
‘had irreparably damaged the human ecology of the region’, initiating ‘a new
and terrifying era in New England’.
Questions still persist about the rights and
wrongs of the Captain’s actions just as they remain about his birth origins.
But in the year of Mayflower 400, Chorley still insists on Standish’s links to
the Lancashire town.
Astley Hall Image credit: M.D. Beckwith
At the splendid 16th
century building Astley Hall, owned by Chorley Town Council and now known as
Astley Hall Museum and Art Gallery, a special Miles Standish exhibition was set
up. Sadly the Covid-19 outbreak at
the moment of writing has prevented its public opening. But the key slides
proposed for the exhibition can be seen online, along with those serious
questions to be answered.
‘Was his
character too warlike - especially in his treatment of the native Americans?’ is
one of the questions.
And the exhibition’s answer?
‘History is about interpretation and judgement. Readers will
have to make their own mind up about Myles’ record.’
The Miles Standish monument in Duxbury, Massachusetts. A dedication and cornerstone-laying ceremony attended by
10,000 persons took place on October 7, 1872. The monument was not completed
until 1898. The monument was built on Captain's Hill, the highest point, 200
feet above sea level, on what was once Standish's farm
Image
credit: Pete Forsyth
You can access other posts on this blog by going to the Blog Archive (under the ‘About Me’ section), and clicking on the appropriate heading.