HABBAMOCK SPEAKS

Greetings. I am Habbamock, a leader of the Wampanoag people. We live near the coast of the great sea in a rich, beautiful land. The Great Spirit gave this land to us at the beginning of time to share with the forest creatures, the birds of the air, the fish of the waters and all the growing things. Together, we have cared for the land and the waters and they have given us a good and peaceful life.

Then white men came in boats across the sea. They wore strange clothes, smelled bad, and carried firesticks that could kill. They disturbed our land for after they left, my people began to get sick and die from diseases we had never seen before. So many died at the town of Patuxet that the few who survived fled from that place of death. There was no one left there to bury the dead.

Another boat with white men came and soon went away. But, as it went, it took 27 of our strongest men, stolen from our villages by the white men. One of our men whose name was Squanto learned the tongue of the white men while he lived in their land. When he was able to return to our people, he helped us understand their strange words and ways.

These things I had heard from the elders and the story tellers who keep the history of our people.  But I myself watched from a hidden place as one of the white man’s boats came to the shores of our land. It was a mighty ship, bigger than twenty canoes. It had great white wings like a powerful bird. It brought white men – and women – to our dead city of Patuxet and when the ship went away, the people stayed.

We watched unseen as they built shelters. Did they know that the cold months of the winter moons were coming? Had they brought enough food to keep them until their first harvest many moons from now?

Once, a few of the white men found a place where we had stored up much corn for the coming winter. They took back to their village as much as they could carry. While some of our people went hungry, the white men gave thanks to their God for the blessing of that corn.

Massasoit, Great Chief of the Wampanoag people, was a wise and mighty leader. He and his counselors met many times and debated how our people should treat the whites who lived so close to our villages. We could not trust them because their people who had earlier come to our land had stolen our men and killed with their firesticks. But the whites in Plymouth, for that is what they called their village, had done us little harm. There were women among them, too, and women were always a sign of a peaceful mission.

Chief Massasoit and his council made a plan. I was asked to go and build a new house for my family very near the settlement of the white men. I would represent my people to them and learn to know those pale people and their customs. I would also watch and listen carefully for any sign that they were planning to harm the Wampanoag. It was a good plan, and several harvest moons passed while my family and I lived near Plymouth village. It was a time of peace.

It was the custom of Chief Massasoit to travel our land and visit our people in their villages. In this way, he learned of their needs so he could lead them into wise paths. After many seasons of peace, the Great Chief also traveled to Plymouth. He sent a messenger ahead to announce his coming and invited men from the Wampanoag villages he visited to go with him.

Massasoit went to the white settlement showing the power of our people. He had brought ninety braves, two for every white person living in Plymouth Colony. But they were met by welcome, not fear. The settlers at Plymouth greeted Massasoit’s coming with a great noise from their firesticks. Squanto explained that it was their way of showing honor to a great leader.

The people of Plymouth Colony then prepared a great feast for their visitors. Our men killed several deer and prepared them to share at the feast also. For three days the celebration continued. Colonists took some of us into their homes and prepared places in the town square for others to sleep.

There are many things we Wampanoag people do not understand about the ways of the white man: Why do they call us Indians? How can they own land when it all belongs to the Great Spirit? Why do they treat us as wild and savage people? How can they live in families without the support of a tribe? What is their God like, who tells them to leave their own lands and settle far away on the lands of others?

There is much that I will never understand about those pale-faced people. But, for those three days, we could join together in celebrating. Was that what you now call Thanksgiving?

8/4/07 - mshr

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