Book Review: Nathaniel Philbrick’s Mayflower

I’ve been reading a lot of non-fiction in the past few months.  At the end of October, I decided at last to pick up a book I purchased a couple of years ago, Nathaniel Philbrick’s Mayflower: A Story of Courage, Community, and War.

Philbrick, a Nantucket resident, became curious about the Pilgrim story while researching the Wampanoag Indians native to his island.  He divides his book into three sections, reflected in the subtitle: the story of the small group of Separatists who left England (where their religious practices were outlawed) for Leiden, then sailed for America; the careful diplomacy with which the English and the Indian sachem, Massasoit, forged an alliance and partnership in Plymouth Colony; and the unraveling of that relationship as the next two generations of English grew and required more land, and Indian society found itself undergoing change, both internal (with the many Indian sachems in the region jockeying for supremacy) and external (with some Indians maintaining their alliance with the English, while others believed the English had outstayed their welcome and should be sent packing).  This latter conflict became known as King Philip’s War (June 1675 to August 1676).

The author has created an impressive work, thoroughly researched and documented in fascinating detail.  Some historical narratives that pack a large amount of information are dry and dull to read; this is not so.  (At least not for me.)  He attempts to understand the inner workings and motivations of both the English and the Indian communities, and does not take sides.  He himself makes the observation that

When violence and fear grip a society, there is an almost overpowering temptation to demonize the enemy.  Given the unprecedented level of suffering and death during King Philip’s War, the temptations were especially great, and it is not surprising that both Indians and English began to view their former neighbors as subhuman and evil.  What is surprising is that even in the midst of one of the deadliest wars in American history, there were Englishmen who believed the Indians were not inherently malevolent and there were Indians who believed the same about the English.  They were the ones whose rambunctious and intrinsically rebellious faith in humanity finally brought the war to an end, and they are the heroes of this story.

Perhaps the most refreshing thing in this story (besides the fact that it’s the first thorough account of King Philip’s War I’ve ever seen) is the focus in the last section of the account on Benjamin Church, perhaps one of America’s first true frontiersmen.  While his maternal grandfather had arrived in Plymouth on the Mayflower, Church was a true American: of Separatist Christian stock, but independent in the way he chose to live.  He settled himself on the edge of Indian country, befriended both Indian and English, and played a crucial role in the war that erupted between the Indians and the English, communicating with both sides, and relying on friendships and trusted individuals (both Indian and English) to lead him to success.

My mother tells me she did not care for the book.  Her interest lies in the story of the Pilgrims (from whom she’s descended), but I don’t believe it extends as far as the hostilities.  This is also not a very romanticized account of the English.  Philbrick acknowledges the Pilgrims’ place in the American pantheon of religious freedom-seekers, but insists that the history of the Plymouth Colony extends far beyond the First Thanksgiving.  He writes, “When we look to how the Pilgrims and their children maintained more than fifty years of peace with the Wampanoags and how that peace suddenly erupted into one of the deadliest wars ever fought on American soil, the history of Plymouth Colony becomes something altogether new, rich, troubling, and complex.  Instead of the story we already know, it becomes the story we need to know.”

As a former U.S. history teacher, I found this book incredibly relevant.  It seems very little attention is paid in history books to the time period between the landing of the Pilgrims and Puritans (in Boston) in 1620 and 1630, respectively, and the end of the French and Indian War, when England began a program of taxation on the American colonists.  Mayflower provides a detailed account of the delicate relations which existed between English and Indians, and the many events that both strengthened those relations and tore them apart.   European/Native relations in the U.S. are poorly understood by Americans, whose education exposes them to little more complexity in this area than Hollywood’s portrayals of cowboys and Indians shooting at each other, and (if they’re book-readers) Bury My Heart At Wounded Knee.  Philbrick’s refusal to demonize either side makes this book a great source of light, and (mercifully) less a source of heat.

Having covered the main substance of the book, I want to add a few very interesting things I learned from the book:

At least 1000 Indians were sold into slavery during King Philip’s War, with ships—in direct contrast to how they would travel in the 18^th and 19^th centuries—carrying their human cargo from America to the Caribbean.  The English colonists did this not for profit, but out of fear of having Indians from rebellious tribes living among them.

While nineteenth-century Indians in southern New England regarded King Philip’s War as a conflict between the English and the Indians, earlier generations who had experienced the war first-hand (or knew those who had) remembered it not as an “us versus them” question, but “more like being part of a family that had been destroyed by the frightening, inexplicable actions of a once trusted and beloved father [King Philip].”

And while many Americans take great pride in the knowledge that they are descended from the Pilgrims of Plymouth, Philbrick writes, “In 2002 it was estimated that there were approximately 35 million descendents of the Mayflower passengers in the United States, which represents roughly 10 percent of the total U.S. population.”  Perhaps it’s not so uncommon after all.

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