CHAPTER XVIII.
The next morning proved bright and fair, as lovely a day as one coulddesire; no cloud in the sky save the light fleecy ones that are notthe presage of a storm. Our friends in the cottages gathered abouttheir breakfast tables in rare good spirits, in spite of the fact thatWalter was to leave them that day, by the evening boat, for his firstexperience of life away from home and mother.
The lad appeared in high spirits, partly real but partly only assumed,to hide the sinking of heart that at times oppressed him at the thoughtof so long a separation from her who had been almost all the world tohim from babyhood till now, when he began to consider himself on thevery verge of manhood.
She saw it if no one else did, and her tender mother heart ached forher "baby boy." For herself too, that she must do without him and hisloving caresses, for months, and know that he was exposed to many atrial and temptation from which mother love could not shield him. Butoh, there was comfort in the thought that her best Friend was hisalso, and would still be as near as ever to both mother and son; stillto them, as to all His children, the Hearer and Answerer of prayer.
"Well, what is to be done to-day?" asked Rosie, when the meal hadfairly begun.
"I propose a visit to 'Tonomy Hill' for one thing," said CaptainRaymond, addressing his remark to the company in general.
"Where is that, and what particular claim has it upon our attention?"queried Mr. Dinsmore in return.
"It is about a mile and a half north of Newport," replied the captain."Tonomy is an abbreviation of Miantonomoh, the name of a Narragansettsachem whose seat it was in early times. It is a rocky eminence and thecommanding site of a small fort or redoubt during the Revolutionarywar. It is said to be the highest land upon the island except QuakerHill, which you will remember we saw toward the northern end as wesailed round on Saturday."
"Ah, yes! where the battle was fought between the British and ourforces under Greene and Sullivan."
"Is there anything to be seen there--on Tonomy Hill--but the ruin ofthe little fortification?" asked Rosie.
"Yes," replied the captain. "The hill is 270 feet above the bay, andfrom it we may obtain a fine view on all sides. On the south and westthe city and harbor of Newport, and many islands in the harbor with theremains of fortifications--Canonicut, with its ruined fort, for one.Ah, I am forgetting that you saw all from the _Dolphin_ the other day!Still we could not from there take in the whole view at once as we mayfrom the hill top.
"Looking oceanward beyond the city, we can see Fort Adams; and, with aspy-glass, the dim outline of Block Island; beyond it in the Atlantic,perhaps, if your eyes are good, a faint view, a little more to theeastward, of the nearest shore of Martha's Vineyard; also of some ofthe islands in Buzzard's Bay.
"On the east can be seen Warren and Bristol, and the top of Mount Hope,the throne of King Philip. To the north there will be a good view ofNarragansett Bay and the towns along its shores."
"Indeed, captain, you make it seem very well worth while to go there,"observed Mrs. Dinsmore.
"I think that when we get there and look about and around, upon allthat is to be seen, you will be still better convinced of it," returnedthe captain. "In addition to what I have already mentioned we can lookupon a large part of the cultivated fields of this island, and findthem rich in natural productions as well as in historical associations."
"Oh, let us go by all means!" exclaimed Violet. "Perhaps our littlefolks might not care for it, or might find the climb up the hill toofatiguing, but they can be left in the yacht or carriage, whichever thetrip is made in."
"Oh, mamma!" exclaimed little Elsie, "I should very much rather go upthat hill with the rest of you, if you will only let me!"
"Well, dear, I should like to let you do as you prefer, but, of course,it must be just as your papa says," replied Violet, smiling downaffectionately into the eager, pleading little face.
"And papa says you may go if you wish to," said the captain, in hiskind, pleasant tones.
"Me too, papa?" asked Ned eagerly.
"Yes, you too, if you wish to, son," replied his father. "I think evenmy baby boy will enjoy the drive, the climb up the hill, and the lovelyview from its top."
"We are going to drive, are we, papa?" queried Lucilla.
"Yes; I have ordered carriages from Newport to be here by nine o'clock;so that all who wish can drive. But should anyone prefer the yacht itis at their service. Also, it will be welcome to any who desire a sailafterward."
After a little more talk, first among themselves, then along with theoccupants of the other cottage, it was decided that all would take thedrive to Tonomy Hill and see the view; then some would drive elsewhere,others would board the yacht and have a sail.
The engaged vehicles were already at hand, and in a few minutes theentire company of adults and children were on the way to Tonomy Hill.
All, old and young, greatly enjoyed the drive, and the captain wasplied with questions about this object and that. The windmillsparticularly interested little Elsie and Ned. Their father explainedwhat they were, and why there were so many of them, that they weremade necessary by the absence of streams sufficiently strong to turnwater-wheels, and, of one standing at the junction of the main road andthe lane leading to the Hill, he remarked: "That is an old, old one,built years before the Revolutionary War. At the time of the war it andthe dwelling-house near by were owned by a man named Hubbard. He wasone of the many Americans whom Prescott turned out of their houses, totake shelter in barns and other miserable abiding places, while hissoldiers took possession of their comfortable homes."
"What a shame!" exclaimed Ned. "Papa, I'm glad we don't have those badfellows here now."
"So am I," replied his father. "We ought to thank God every day formaking us so free, and giving us this dear land of our own. I hope myboy will always remember to do so."
Reaching the top of the hill, they found the view from it all thatthe captain had said. Calling attention to it, now on this side, nowon that, he named the different towns and other objects worthy ofparticular attention. Mount Hope was one, and again he spoke of it asthe former home of King Philip.
"Papa," said Elsie, "who was he? I thought we never had any king in ourcountry."
"The Indians used to have them, and he was king of one of theirtribes," was the reply.
"Is there a story about him, papa?" she asked.
"Yes. Would you like to hear it?"
"Oh, yes, sir! yes, indeed! you know I always like stories."
"Yes; even if they are rather sad; as this one is. But if you wish, Iwill tell you a little about it now; perhaps more at another time."
"Oh, tell it all, if you please, Brother Levis," said Rosie. "I don'tbelieve any one of us would object to hearing it."
Several of the others joined in the request, and the captain, everready to oblige, began at once.
"His original name was Metacomet, but he is frequently spoken of asKing Philip and also as Pometacom. His father was Massasoit, whosedominions extended from this Narragansett Bay to Massachusetts.Massasoit took two of his sons, Metacomet and Wamsutta, to Plymouth andasked that English names might be given them. His request was granted,one being called Philip and the other Alexander.
"Upon the death of the father, Alexander became chief in his stead, butsoon died suddenly, of poison, it was supposed, and Philip became chiefor king in his stead. He was a bright, enterprising man; sagacious,brave, and generous. He soon perceived that his people were beingrobbed by the whites, who took possession of the best lands, and killedoff the game and the fish upon which the Indians had been used tosubsist.
"Philip's tribe was known as the Wampanoags, or Pokanokets, and theirprincipal village was there upon Mount Hope. They, and other tribesas well, felt that they had been greatly injured by the whites, andplanned an offensive alliance against them.
"Philip began his war preparations by sending the women and childrenof the tribe away from Mount Hope to the Narragansetts for protection.Then he warne
d some of the whites with whom he was friendly of thecoming storm, that they might seek places of safety, and, when theywere gone, bade his followers swear eternal hostility to the whites.
"A dreadful war followed, beginning on the 24th of June, 1675, andlasting for more than a year. The whites suffered a great deal, but theIndians still more. Particularly the Narragansetts, who were treatedwith great cruelty because they had given shelter to the Wampanoags andtheir families.
"They had a fort on an elevation of three or four acres surrounded bya swamp, studded with brambles and thick underbrush. There were threethousand Indians in it--mostly women and children. The whites surprisedthem, burned their palisades and straw-covered wigwams, and the poorcreatures were burned, suffocated, butchered, frozen, or drowned. Sixhundred warriors and a thousand women and children were killed, and allthe winter provision of the tribe destroyed. Their chief, Canonchet,escaped then, but was captured and killed the next summer.
"It was on the 12th of the next August that a renegade Indian guideda large party of white men to the camp of the Wampanoags. The Indianswere asleep, King Philip among them. After the first shot or two hewoke, sprang to his feet, gun in hand, and tried to escape, but, as hestumbled and fell in the mire, was shot dead by a treacherous Indian.His death ended the war."
"Poor fellow!" sighed Grace. "He was certainly treated with greatinjustice and cruelty. I don't see how the whites could be so blind tothe fact that the Indians had the best right to this country, and thatit was wicked to rob them of their lands."
"Self-interest is apt to have a very blinding influence," said herfather. "And I am afraid we must acknowledge that the whites were thefirst aggressors, in their grasping seizure of so much of the land ofwhich the Indians were the original and rightful possessors."
All having now looked their fill, they returned to their carriagesand drove to other points of interest, one of them Whitehall, the oldresidence of Bishop Berkeley. It was a place that all cared to see,especially a room in it formerly occupied by the dean, where was afireplace, ornamented with Dutch tiles, placed there by the deanhimself.
"Oh, how old they must be!" exclaimed Grace.
"Yes, not much, if at all, under two hundred years old," said Walter."It sometimes seems odd how much longer things may last than people."
"In this world, you mean," said his grandfather; "but do not forgetthat man is immortal, and must live somewhere to all eternity."
"And Bishop Berkeley is no doubt spending his eternity in a farlovelier paradise than that with which he was familiar in this world,"remarked Mrs. Travilla.
"Yes, indeed! 'Blessed are the dead who die in the Lord,'" quotedEvelyn softly, thinking of the dear father who had left her for thebetter land years ago.
Elsie's Journey on Inland Waters Page 18