M13 - Tisquantum Gives Thanks(Denise Arnault) Tisquantum was fishing in the Eel River, near where it spilled into the Atlantic on a summer day in 1614. Although he had only just begun, it was a perfect day for fishing in New England (although no one called it that yet, to the locals it was known as the Dawn Land.) It was not too sunny and not too cloudy, a pleasant 79 degrees Fahrenheit.

A noisy group of his friends walked by with a couple of the strangely garbed foreigners as he was getting his trap ready to set.

"What happens?" Tisquantum asked his friend Metacomet, as he walked past.

The young warrior replied, "The foreigners show us their big canoe today."

"I come," Tisquantum said excitedly as he bundled his trap and other fishing gear under a birch tree. Fitting actions to words he fell in with his friend, everyone talking animatedly about the experience to come.

The visit started out pleasantly. The sailors on the ship were friendly and showed the Wampanoag warriors features of the deck and rigging. The Indians were somewhat in awe of the great ropes stretching in every direction. Things did not seem so friendly, however, when the group followed one of the sailors below to see the inside of the ship. When they were shown into a storeroom, the door was slammed shut behind them. It soon became apparent that they were not guests but captives. Nothing that the warriors tried could budge the heavy door, and matters resolved into a sullen silence as they waited for more to be made known to them.

They were familiar with the concept of captivity. It was a common practice among the people, but captives were never treated like this. The men, mostly older boys really, spent the night in almost total darkness, as there was only the smallest glass filled hole in the ceiling to let in light. The rocking of the ship changed in the morning. They had no experience to explain it, but they eventually found out that the ship had cast off and gotten underway.

After another day, bowls of smelly water and something that was supposed to be food was shoved through a low panel in the bottom of the door. After about a week of this, even without a shared language, it was made known that they would have to pass their weapons out the panel to get more food and water. Eventually, they were so weakened that the sailors were able to enter and overpower them, stripping concealed knives.

After several weeks of monotonous captivity, something new happened. In the dark stillness of the night, a light began to glow in the far corner of the room. It brightened slowly until it revealed the form of a finely dressed Wampanoag warrior in soft buckskins, adorned with fine beadwork and fringe. The silent warrior stood, his long black hair, contained with a thin leather strap about his forehead, falling beyond his shoulders. A smile was upon his face as he looked about the room at the weary sleeping men. The light filling the room soon began to make the sleepers awaken, one by one. They rubbed their eyes to clear the sleep, clearly not understanding the presence of a fine warrior in their midst who was unknown to them.

"Do not be concerned," the new arrival said in a calm, resonant voice. "I mean you no harm."

This statement awakened the remaining captives, who all now looked on in wonder at their glowing visitor. Tisquantum took the initiative, asking, "Who comes among us?"

“I am Cancattum. I am a Messenger,” the visitor responded.

The words were clearly spoken but the message they conveyed was still a mystery to the confused band of captives. They glanced at each other to see if anyone understood.

Tisquantum again spoke for the group, "You get us out of this place?"

"No, I am sorry, but that is not to be your future," the glowing figure responded. "Many of you are destined for a life of captivity and work in strange lands for stranger people. One of you will live a life of great portent."

With these words, the visitor looked calmly about the room into the faces of each of the captives, then with a flash of light was gone.

The men were talking excitedly among themselves about what had just happened, when someone banged on the door. It was a sailor demanding that the warriors get back against the wall.

The voyage to Spain had taken six weeks. The number of days was irrelevant to the warriors, who merely waited and endured. They also had no concept of what Spain was or where it was located, but no one had informed them that was their destination anyway.

Upon the arrival of the ship in Spanish waters, the warriors were sold as slaves a few at a time until only two remained, Tisquantum and Metacomet. They were lucky to be spotted by two Catholic Friars as they were about to be sold.

"What is the meaning of this outrage?" one of the Friars asked the seller in the slave market of Malaga, Spain.

"This is no outrage," the slave master replied. "We are only selling these captured savages."

"It is known that the Catholic Church forbids the sale of American Indians into slavery, for they are true men, as decreed by Pope Paul III in his Sublimus Dei," the Friar intoned. "You will turn these two men over to us immediately."

"I cannot just turn them over," the slaver protested. "I have to recover the money I paid the ship master for them."

"Your financial woes are of no concern to the Church," the Friar replied. "Unchain these men immediately, or the rage of the Church shall fall upon you!"

This was a dire threat indeed in heavily Catholic Spain. The slaver grudgingly did as he was bid, releasing the two Native Americans to the custody of the Friars. For their part, the two Wampanoag warriors had no idea of what was transpiring, but they took heart in that the strangers spoke in a kind voice and did not beat them as they were led away. Eventually they arrived at a church, of which the warriors were in awe, never having seen such a large stone structure before. They were given food and water and clothing, and shown to a small room where it was made plain that they should sleep that night.

Metacomet did not trust the foreigners and slipped away after the Church turned quiet for the evening. As Tisquantum sat considering whether he should follow or stay, a dim light began to glow behind him. It brightened just a bit as he heard a quiet whisper in the language of the Wampanoag, ‘Do not follow your friend. Your destiny is on another path.’

Turning, Tisquantum was not surprised to see the glowing visitor of a few nights before. Tisquantum stood slowly, not so sure of his visitor's intentions. He had not heard him approaching. It was then that he became aware that he could actually see the bricks in the wall through the stranger.

“What kind of man are you? Why are you here?” he asked.

“I am a Messenger, sent to help you in this time,” the visitor responded.

Tisquantum considered this answer for a moment and then asked, “A Messenger for what Chief?”

The glowing visitor laughed quietly under his breath. “Not for a Chief, but for the Universe, for the Everything.”

When Tisquantum appeared confused by this answer, Cancattum continued, “Messengers are not living beings such as yourself, but ethereal, living on a different level of existence than you. That is why you can see through me. I have not made myself fully solid and thus can only be seen by you at this time.”

This was a lot of new and strange and difficult to grasp information for a man used to a simple life.

“Why are you here?” Tisquantum repeated his earlier question.

“I have come to tell you that you have nothing to fear from these men who have befriended you. Do not depart as your fellow warrior has done,” Cancattum said. “You have an important path to walk. Learn the language and ways of those you meet. Be patient and all will become known.”

With this weighty information, and before Tisquantum could formulate another question, the visitor brightened into a subdued flash and was gone.

When the Friars returned to the room in the morning, they were saddened to see that one of the men had departed, but led Tisquantum to breakfast, where he was introduced to a visiting English merchant. Of course, no one spoke Wampanoag and Tisquantum had no concept of English or Spanish, but it was made known that he should accompany the merchant to safety.

Tisquantum spent 3 years with the English merchant, John Slaney, in London. During this time he learned English and made himself valuable as he showed an aptitude for being an interpreter. He was finally able to convince his benefactor, who had been given rights to the Isle of Newfoundland, to allow him passage on a ship bound there in 1617. He finally landed in the settlement of St. Johns in Newfoundland, where he spent another two years.

Finally in 1619, he was able to convince Captain Thomas Dermer, a British Merchant, to let him sail south along the coast with him as an interpreter. Some weeks later, he stepped ashore near his home at Pawtuxet, only to find that none of his tribe remained. The huts of the village were falling apart, the fields of corn were untended, and bones were everywhere. The People of the Dawn Land were no more, having succumbed to a plague known as the Great Dying, presumably brought to them by the visitors from Europe.

Having completed this journey, which could be seen as miraculous for anyone of these times, let alone a Native American, one would think that Tisquantum’s story could end here, but no, it had only really just begun.

* * *

Standing amid the ruins of the village, Captain Dermer and Tisquantum looked about them at the bones and debris from years of neglect.

"Where are your friends that you told me of?" Captain Dermer asked Tisquantum.

"Many have died," Tisquantum replied, the moisture in his eyes echoing the somber tone of his words, as his hands swept in a wide arc covering the scattered bones. "Some maybe go to forest. Maybe escape evil."

"Do you think that you can find them?" the Captain inquired. "I need to trade my goods."

Tisquantum gazed into the depths of the forest for a moment. "We should go. We try," he said.

Captain Dermer selected three of his sailors to accompany them, and with Tisquantum in the lead, they set off along a trail which had clearly not been recently used. Brushing aside clinging branches and stepping over damp spots on the ground, the group made their way for some hours. The dappled light filtering down through the trees gave the expedition an eerie feel, which was increased by the lack of any sounds that could be attributed to humanity. Only the soft sounds of small animals and insects interrupted the whisper of the breeze rustling branches.

Just after the sun crossed its peak in the sky, Tisquantum stopped and straightened, looking about. After a moment, he bent and laid his weapons on the ground. When he rose, he held his hands out to the side.

"Lay down weapons," he instructed. "Warriors watch us."

The Europeans seemed confused for a moment but did as he suggested. When the task was done, suddenly about twenty warriors appeared from behind trees and shrubs.

"Who goes?" asked one, who had the demeanor of their leader, in the language of the Wampanoag.

"I am Tisquantum of the Pawtuxet. These are my friends. We mean no harm. We look for my people?"

"The Pawtuxet are no more. All go in the Great Dying," the leader replied and Tisquantum translated. "You come with us."

The Europeans bent to retrieve their weapons. "No! No take. We bring," the leader commanded.

This did not set well with the sailors, but seeing the folly of resistance, they did as they were bid and followed empty handed. Warriors quickly gathered the items from the ground and followed. The group were led about a mile to a thriving encampment. They were met with sour, even hostile stares as they were shown through the branch and mud huts to stop before the largest.

A tall, lean man came forth from the structure. "I am Massasoit, Chief of the Pokanoket tribe of Wampanoag."

To further questions regarding why they were in the Pokanoket lands, Tisquantum related his ancestry and search for his Pawtuxet family. Chief Massasoit responded with the full story of the plague which decimated 90% of the local natives, along with a description of the friction between Europeans and natives resulting from kidnappings and murders. After much discussion, Captain Dermer and his men were given their weapons and instructed to return to their ship. Tisquantum was to remain a captive of the Pokanoket. The Europeans had little choice but to comply.

The following year, Captain Dermer and his crew were attacked by other tribes, as they continued to scout the coast. Dermer, seriously wounded, made it to Jamestown, where he related their exploits before dying.

Tisquantum was to remain a prisoner, at least in name, of the Pokanoket for several years. Chief Massasoit recognized his value, because of his ability to speak the European tongue, and hoped that he could help in their difficulties with the larger Nauset and Massachusetts tribes.

His confinement was in name only, however, and he freely roamed the area, visiting with other villages of the Wampanoag. One night, his glowing visitor returned to whisper, ‘You should visit home village. There is much for you to do.’

* * *

The next morning, Tisquantum visited a coastal village near where he had lived. He made a friend of a warrior named Samoset, who told him of a group of foreigners living nearby.

“Silly outsiders not know how to make food and shelter,” Samoset told him. “Many die over winter.”

“Yes, foreigners have great cities across big water. Not know forests,” Tisquantum agreed.

“We watch, but do not talk,” Samoset continued. “Outsiders kill and capture People of the Dawn too often.”

This subject exhausted, the two men went on to other topics before eventually separating to their own pursuits.

His curiosity piqued by the earlier conversation, Samoset decided to visit the outsider's camp. As he watched a group working in the center of their camp, he made his mind up to talk to them. He did not like to watch them suffer so.

Boldly walking into the center of the Europeans, he watched them reach for their weapons. Samoset said in broken but understandable English, “Time to plant. Gather winter.”

It is hard to adequately explain the amazement of the English settlers when they heard these words from the savage who had just so brazenly strolled among them. The multitude of excited comments which burst out in response to Samoset’s salutation overwhelmed his meager grasp of the language. He did understand that the foreigners were glad to meet him and probably meant no harm, but much was said that was not understood.

“My friend talk better,” Samoset informed the crowd. “I bring here.”

With that announcement, he left and returned to his own village where he found that Tisquantum had not yet departed. He related what had happened when he spoke with the foreigners and this intrigued Tisquantum, who had once acted as interpreter between the English and other tribes. He agreed to spend the night in Samoset's hut to think over what to do.

As Tisquantum slept, his glowing visitor came once more to whisper in his ear. 'You can help stop the violence between these settlers and the People of the Dawn. You should talk with Chief Massasoit to find if he agrees.'

When he awoke, these thoughts were still with Tisquantum and he immediately set forth to return to his own village to seek the counsel of the Chief. Chief Massasoit agreed that it would be better to have the settlers as friends and allies than enemies and told Tisquantum to talk to them. Tisquantum left at once to return to the coast, where he once more spent the night with his friend Samoset.

* * *

The European settlers seemed to be expecting more native visitors, as they did not appear at all surprised when Tisquantum stepped out of the forest.

Raising his hand to show that his palm was free of weapons, he said, “I am Tisquantum. I have come to offer help.”

“Happy to meet you Mr. Quanto,” a man, obviously a leader replied. “We are having problems in this new land.”

Tisquantum knew that the land was not new, but he did know what the settler meant. “TisQUANtum,” he said, correcting the pronunciation of his name.

“Squanto,” the settler tried again.

Having had trouble before getting the Europeans to understand his name, he let it go with Squanto. It was not a bad nickname after all.

“You need to start planting now, so harvest in Fall,” Tisquantum advised.

“We know, but our crops all failed last year. Nothing seems to grow the same in this place.”

Tisquantum set about teaching the settlers how to grow corn and squash, which were more suited to the climate. He showed them how to fertilize with old fish to enrich the yield. He showed them how to hunt the local animals and where to find the best fishing.

He also acted as interpreter between Chief Massasoit and the settlers. They agreed on a mutual defense pact against the other tribes in the region.

In the fall of that year, the Wampanoag joined the Pilgrims in a feast celebrating the end of the year harvest. This was to be the only such event, since the Pilgrims did not really believe that such celebrations were proper. It is not clear if the idea for the original Thanksgiving Day feast was based on a ceremony common to the Wampanoag, or just a coincidence.

In 1789, George Washington issued a proclamation calling for a celebration of a public day of thanksgiving. Many presidents after him followed suit, designating different days to have such a celebration. It was President Lincoln, who finally made the celebration a National Holiday to be held the third Thursday of November in 1863.

* * *

Authors Note: While the original Thanksgiving celebration was mythologized to the point that it is not really recognizable, there is still great cause to celebrate the Thanksgiving holiday. It is not a celebration of Pilgrims coming to America and surviving, but rather a celebration of family and friends, surviving yet another year and enjoying the bounty of fall, as it always has been from well before the time of the Pilgrims.

As for the original Thanksgiving, it must be admitted that it was not the first time that European invaders survived an American colonization with the help of the people they were rapidly supplanting for dominance of the landscape. Some view it funny when told that it was the indigenous people of North America, known as the American Indians because of a mistake in navigation, that first said, "Immigrants go home!" and "Go back to were you came from!" Estimates give percentages between 70% and 90% of the indigenous population died within the first few years of meeting Europeans due to diseases that they had no immunity to. Keep their plight in mind the next time you wish for aliens from outer space to invade, er… visit Earth. It rarely turns out well for the less technologically advanced civilization.

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