Terrifying & True | Dark Realities of the First Thanksgiving: Survival, Plague, and a Fragile Peace - Weekly Spooky: Scary Holiday Stories | Terrifying Tales to Creep Your Night

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Speaker 1 (00:04):
Not a feast of plenty, but a feast of survival.
Sixteen twenty one, Hunger, plague and a fragile pact between
the wampano and the pilgrim. Tonight, we follow the smoke
to the truth survival first, politics second, and peace. Hanging

(00:28):
by a thread. What you were about to pit you
is beve to be money based on witness accounts, testamaties,
and public record. This is terrifying and truth truth. A

(00:56):
very special thank you to cozyearth dot com for answering
Tonight's show. Headcozyearth dot com and use promo code spooky
for forty one percent off your first order featuring the
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(01:22):
Imagine Plymouth, Colony, New England, sixteen twenty one. A battered
outpost clings to a wind struck shore to the west.
The Wampanoe, reeling from a devastating epidemic, measure a perilous
choice coexist or catastrophe. From the tree line, A stranger

(01:48):
steps forward and speaks plain English. His name is Samoset,
and with him comes Squanto Massasoit and a pact written
in careful clauses and cautious glances. For three days they
share food and vigilance. What later becomes legend as a

(02:11):
Thanksgiving is in truth a table set with politics, grief
and survival, the winter that killed, the treaty that held,
and the fragile peace that could not. Tonight we look
at the hard truths of the time of the First Thanksgiving.

(02:43):
November sixteen twenty, after ten weeks at sea aboard the Mayflower,
a band of English religious dissenters later known as the Pilgrims,
at last set foot on what is now the coast
of Massachusetts. They discovered a quote hideous and desolate wilderness

(03:08):
full of wild beasts and wild men. No friendly villages
nor fields ready for sowing greeted them only the oncoming
fury of a new England winter. Stranded far north of
their intended destination, the Pilgrims were woefully unprepared for the cold.

(03:32):
They looked out over a frozen landscape of bare trees
and stunted brush, with a growing scents of dread. Behind
them lay the Atlantic, an oceanic barrier to the world
they had left before them, shadowed forests and uncertainty. From

(03:56):
the very beginning, survival was terrifyingly uncertain. Hunger gnawed constantly
at the settlers. Their meager diet shrank to scraps, spoiled
ship's biscuits, dried peas, strips of cod, even boiled acorns

(04:17):
and ground nuts when they could find nothing better. Fresh
Water was also scarce among the salty Marshes, and thirst
tormented them just as much as hunger. On one desperate march,
finding a clear pond was said to be pleasant as

(04:38):
wine to the parched men. As supplies dwindled, each pilgrim's
daily ration became pitiful. Some days there was no food
at all, and men staggered in weakness as they labored
to build shelters. William B. Bradford later recalled that had

(05:02):
not an accidental discovery of a store of wild corn
quote a special providence of God saved them, they might
have starved. Disease compounded their misery. Without proper housing, and
weakened by malnutrition, illness swept through the camp. Scurvy and

(05:26):
pneumonia took hold in that cruel winter of sixteen twenty
through sixteen twenty one. Bradford later lamented that in quote
two or three months time, half of their company had died,
So as there died, sometimes two or three a day.

(05:49):
Fresh mounds of earth appeared with grim regularity in the
frozen ground. Often the dead were buried hastily at night
in unmarked graves, their shrouds helping to quote bury are
dead in darkness, shielding the depth of the disaster from

(06:11):
any onlookers. The pilgrims feared that if the local native
people had seen how many had perished, they would know
just how vulnerable the colony truly was. So day by
day they hid their despair behind the facade of normalcy.

(06:35):
Inside Plymouth's crude huts, scenes of suffering multiplied. Feverish men
and women huddled under threadbare blankets as cutting winds whistled
through the gaps in the walls. According to one account,
only six or seven sound persons remained fit enough to

(06:57):
care for the dying, who spared no pains night or
day to bathe fevered brows, wash dirty linens, and pray incessantly.
When deaths outpaced their ability to bury them, the settlers
simply wrapped the bodies in cloth and laid them on

(07:21):
the cold ground. These devout Christians, who had crossed an
ocean seeking religious freedom, began to wonder if instead they
had found divine wrath. Bradford wrote that the pilgrims were
quote ready to perish in this wilderness, kept alive only

(07:44):
by the spirit of God and his grace. In their
darkest hours, they truly believed that only God's providence stood
between them and oblivion. All the while, the Pilgrims felt
eyes on them from the woods. Native figures were glimpsed

(08:08):
at the forest's edge, skulking about them. According to Bradford,
the colonists had no idea whether these sightings meant friendship
or threat. Once tools left in the fields were quietly stolen,
every rustle in the night made hearts pound. In truth,

(08:34):
the only clue the settlers had about the local people
was grim. When the Mayflower scouts explored the shores a
year earlier, they found abandoned native houses, empty corn caches,
and bleached bones piled in the woods. The ground on

(08:58):
which Plymouth Colony would rise had once been patuxt a
Wampannoegg village, now entirely empty, a vast graveyard. Unbeknownst to

(09:19):
the pilgrims, the land they settled had been freshly ravaged
by a catastrophe. Between sixteen sixteen and sixteen nineteen, a
mysterious epidemic swept through coastal New England, annihilating entire communities
of the Wampannoegg and their neighbors. Historians would later call

(09:43):
it the Great Dying. The toll was unimaginable. In some villages,
ninety percent of people died. An English chronicler wrote that
whole towns were depopulated. The living were not able to
bury the dead, leaving skeletons lying above ground for years.

(10:10):
The stench of death hung over the forests. Thomas Morton,
an English settler, described walking through what seemed like a
new found golgatha of bones and skulls. In some native houses,
bodies lay where families had perished, no one left to

(10:32):
bury them. The Wampanoag people, who had lived in these
lands for generations, were reeling from this catastrophe. We now
believe the plague was probably caused by leptospirosis or another
European disease, a pathogen unknowingly brought ashore. By European fishermen

(10:57):
and traders. Whatever the microbe, the native population was virgin
soil for infection and utterly devastated. Patuxit soon to be
Plymouth was especially hit hard. When Squanto finally found his
way back home in sixteen nineteen, after years abroad, he

(11:22):
discovered his entire village empty and dead. He was literally
the last of the patux It. The Wampanoagsachum Massasoit's world
lay in ruins. His confederacy had once been strong, but

(11:42):
after sixteen nineteen it was shattered. Hundreds of his people
were dead, and rival tribes now encroached to the west.
The narrow Gansett had mostly escaped the worst of the
plague and even demanded true from the weakened Wampanoag. By

(12:03):
sixteen twenty, the balance of power in the region had flipped.
Massasoit faced chaos. Centuries of tradition, upended alliances, frayed enemies
at every turn. It's hard to imagine the dread among
the Wampanoagg elders. Some likely wondered if their gods or

(12:28):
nature itself were punishing them. Some later voiced the belief
that this was quote by God's visitation a wonderful plague
that had cleared the way for the English, a sentiment
echoed by Bradford and the Pilgrims, who thanked Providence that

(12:51):
the land was empty for the taking. But to the Wampanoag,
this was no empty land. It was a vast burial ground.
They lived daily with the memory of how swiftly death
could come. Massasoit needed to ensure his people's survival. When

(13:15):
news reached him of a small group of English struggling
at Peduxit or Plymouth, he faced a fateful choice. These
strangers flew the same flag and professed the same faith
as the traders who had brought the plague. Should he

(13:36):
regard them as potential allies now equipped with muskets and
iron tools, or as another threat to be eliminated while
his nation was still weak. In early sixteen twenty one,
Massasoit watched and waited. His scouts reported that winter had

(14:01):
nearly killed all of the English. A single attack might
now finish the Pilgrims. Yet Massasoit hesitated. He understood that
an alliance, however strange, could serve his people's interests. The
newcomers had guns, he did not. They too feared the Narragansett,

(14:27):
and they were few, perhaps manageable, so Massasoit restrained himself.
Both sides eyed each other warily through the frost covered woods,
but the stalemate would soon break. The first direct encounter

(14:47):
between the Pilgrims and the local natives was a shock
to both sides. On March sixteenth, sixteen twenty one, a
lone native man strode boldly into the half built village
and greeted them in English, Welcome Englishmen. Bradford later marveled

(15:10):
at the scene. The man was Samoset, a sagamore of
the Abenaki from Maine. Barely clad against the chill, he
walked in as casually as any neighbor. Alarmed the settlers
raised their muskets, Samoset lifted a placating hand and repeated

(15:35):
the greeting in halting English learned from fishermen. He even
named some ship captains. The Pilgrims, who had braced themselves
to meet a fierce savage, were astonished to meet someone
who asked only for beer and bread. Samoset's calm friendliness,

(15:58):
even as he sampled their strong ale, immediately eased tension.
The settlers crowded around him in the dim candlelit common house,
listening with relief and curiosity to his broken English, while
outside the dark woods still loomed. In the hours that followed,

(16:29):
Samoset shared invaluable information through a mix of English words
and gestures. He confirmed the colonist's worst fears. The land
beneath Plymouth was indeed ptuxed, and its inhabitants died in
a great plague. Not long since none left to live there.

(16:56):
The cornfields were already cleared for planting. Samoset told them
the local nation was the Wampanoeg, led by Massasoit, and
pointed out their neighbours, the Nauset to the east, who
recently fired arrows at Plymouth's scouts, and the Narragansett to
the west, a powerful tribe untouched by the plague. This

(17:22):
intelligence was crucial. The pilgrims gave Samoset food and drink.
He accepted gratefully and quickly made himself at home. That night,
he stayed in the settler's company by the fireside, sleeping
in the common house. One can imagine the pilgrims, anxious

(17:44):
and weary, gathered by Samoset under the lantern glow, a
bridge spanning two worlds on the edge of the wilderness.
True to his word, Samoset soon returned, bringing another native
guide to Squantum, known to the English as Squanto. Squanto's

(18:09):
story was remarkable, almost too improbable to be believed. A
patux at Wampanoag, he had been kidnapped by an English
captain in sixteen fourteen, sold into slavery in Spain, rescued
by friars, taken to England, and finally sent home in

(18:30):
sixteen nineteen. He was literally the last of the patux It,
but Squanto spoke their language and understood their customs. The
settlers were astounded. Bradford later called Squanto a special instrument
sent of God for their good. Beyond their expectation, the

(18:54):
Pilgrims took him into their settlement. Squanto taught them how
to sow corn, the nameative way, burying fish with the
kernels as fertilizer. He guided them to eel beds, pointed
out which berries and herbs were edible, and led them
in fur trading expeditions. In short, Squanto became their lifeline.

(19:19):
One early settler wrote that Squanto never left them till
he died. Serving as pilot, translator, and teacher during their
most desperate of months. Squanto's dual identity made him both
indispensable and uneasy to both sides. To the Pilgrims, he

(19:44):
was a godsend. To Massasoit, he was a subject of
his who had seen too much of the English world.
Squanto certainly helped the two cultures to communicate, but he
also sewed doubt Bradford's Journal's hint at trouble ahead. Squanto

(20:05):
supposedly claimed that the English hid the secret of the
plague and only he could protect his people, thus inflating
his own importance. Massasoit grew suspicious, but in March of
sixteen twenty one, those tensions still lay in the future.

(20:28):
For now, Squanto and Samoset stood as ambassadors, linking Plymouth
with the Wampanoac, setting the stage for what came next.
On a day in late March of sixteen twenty one,
Sachem Massasoit arrived to meet the Pilgrims, a moment on

(20:52):
which the colony's fate truly hinged. The scene was tense
and formal. Massasoit came with about sixty of his warriors,
including his brother Quadaquina and counselors. The Pilgrims, in turn
prepared a cautious welcome at a small brook on the

(21:16):
settlement's edge. Edward Winslow stepped out, carrying gifts a pair
of knives and a copper necklace, and crossed over to
greet Massasoit. Unarmed, Winslow even stooped to kiss the Sachem's hand.
Massasoit sampled a cup of strong liquor Winslow had brought,

(21:40):
and promptly coughed, unused to its strength. The gesture of
respect broke the ice. Massasoit, a dignified man of few words,
now examined the gaunt colonists with curiosity. With Squanto and
Samoset translating, they began cautious introductions. Soon after Massasoat entered

(22:06):
Plymouth itself. He left most of his warriors at a
distance and came only with a small party, carrying no weapons,
a clear sign of good will. The Pilgrims mirrored this
by setting aside their muskets. During the meeting, all sat

(22:27):
on the ground in a circle inside an unfinished cabin,
forming a curious assembly of armed men, wary yet open.
According to accounts, the two sides agreed to a formal treaty,
essentially a mutual defense pact. Both parties promised not to

(22:50):
harm each other. The terms as recorded were straightforward no harm.
Neither Massasoit's people, norf or the English would injure or
do hurt to the other. Justice. If any Wampanoagg harmed
an Englishman, the offender would be sent to Plymouth for justice,

(23:15):
and vice versa. Restitution stolen goods would be returned. Each
side would do the like to his mutual defense. If
any nation unjustly warred against Massasoit, the Pilgrims would aid him.

(23:35):
If anyone attacked the Pilgrims, Massasoit would help them. Ally coordination,
Massasoit would inform neighboring tribes of the pact so that
they might not wrong the English disarming in visits. Whenever
Wampanoagg visited Plymouth, they would leave their bows in airsroes behind,

(24:01):
and likewise the English would go unarmed when visiting the Wampanaag.
This treaty was remarkable for its reciproocity. It treated both
sides as sovereign allies, pledging friendship. In effect, it created
a defensive alliance. The Pilgrims, so few and feeble, desperately

(24:27):
needed such a pact. Massasoit, politically weak after the plague,
sought powerful friends. He even remarked that the English quote
had now delivered their own selves, for they were too
weak to stand alone. As one scholar observes, the Wampagnaag

(24:48):
welcomed the new English settlement and sought an alliance with them,
precisely because the Narraganset threat still loomed. The Narraganset, for
their would soon see this alliance as a direct threat
to their influence. After the treaty was sealed, both sides

(25:15):
tried to show goodwill. The Pilgrims, though still low on supplies,
set before their guests whatever food they had salted fish,
dried peas, and cornmeal loaves. The Wampanoag responded with dances
and friendly gestures. Winslow wrote that quote, many of the

(25:38):
Indians came amongst us and their great King, Massasoit, with
some ninety men, whom for three days we entertained and feasted.
Relief was in the air. Before departing, Massasoit formally saluted
Governor Carver and the Pilgrim leaders won in englishmen would

(26:00):
later note that this peace hath now continued for twenty
four years, a comment of hope. Indeed, the alliance would
hold by and large for years to come. Still, even
in those first days, it was understood that peace was fragile.

(26:23):
Bradford succeeded Carver as governor soon after, and kept a
careful watch. Both sides had seen too much death to
trust easily. The Pilgrims remained cautious when venturing into the
woods or trading, and Massasoit kept the English within sight

(26:43):
until sure of their intentions. But at least there was
a flicker of hope. The settlers could now fish and
hunt without expecting ambush at every turn. The Wampanoag could
trade with Plymouth without fear of being shot. For the moment,
the specter of immediate violence had lifted. The summer of

(27:08):
sixteen twenty one brought sunshine and hard labor, and miraculously
a first harvest. With Squanto's guidance, the Pilgrims planted about
twenty acres of corn, a crop alien to them, but
one ideally suited to New England soil. They also sowed

(27:31):
some English grains, wheat, barley, and peas with mixed success.
Gradually their lives steadied. They learned to fish the abundant coast,
to dig clams from tidal flats, and to net spring
herring in the rivers. In the woods, they foraged for blueberries, cranberries, nuts,

(27:56):
and herbs. By autumn, it seemed nature was finally smiling
down on Plymouth. Their first corn crop yielded enough to
sew next year and store for winter. Bradford wrote that
by September quote, we had all things in good plenty,

(28:16):
and that birds began to fill their larders all the
summer there was no want, and now began to come
in store of foul great store of wild turkeys. For
the first time since landing, the settlers were not in
a daily fight against starvation. Seeing their bounty, the colonists

(28:40):
decided to celebrate. They would not have called it Thanksgiving
at the time. To them, that implied a day of prayer,
but it was a harvest feast. Bradford later explained that
the governor quote sent four men on fowling that so oh,
we might, after a special manner, rejoice together after we

(29:04):
had gathered the fruit of our labors. The hunters returned
with a great number of birds as much foul as
served the company almost a week. They likely brought back ducks, geese,
and maybe swans. The Pilgrims roasted these birds with whatever

(29:26):
spices they had, and prepared stews of corn meal and
pumpkin or squash. It wasn't lavish, sugar laden meal of
later legends, but after the hungry months, it was a
feast of fresh meat and grain, a true luxury, not gluttony.

(29:48):
That feast drew an unexpected guest, Massasoit himself. The noise
of the hunt and the smoke of cooking fires must
have reached Suddenly he appeared at Plymouth with about ninety
of his warriors, hungry and curious. The Pilgrims, if surprised

(30:11):
by the armed arrival, gave no sign. They welcomed their
Wampanoag allies and included them in the celebrations. This became
the heart of the famous first Thanksgiving image, English and
Native people breaking bread together. The Wampanoag were not passive

(30:32):
when they saw the settlers meat supply dwindling. Massasoits sent
out hunters of his own. They returned with five fat
deer and ceremoniously presented them to Governor Bradford, Captain Standish,
and others. These deer were roasted over the fire, adding

(30:53):
rich venison to the table. One can only imagine the
immense relief and come right as the colonists and warriors
feasted together over the open flames for three days. The
two peoples ate, drank, and enjoyed each other's company. The

(31:13):
Pilgrims demonstrated their muskets in shooting drills. The Wampa Noag
likely did archery contests or performed dances. Later traditions suggest
there may have been foot races or even wrestling matches,
activities common to both cultures. There was laughter, hand signs,

(31:35):
broken English, and maybe a few learned native words. Children.
Those few who had survived the first winter likely ran
and played on the sidelines. Wampa Noag women, undoubtedly present
among the ninety men, would help tend the fires and
prepare dishes alongside their Pilgrim counterparts. Was thick with wood

(32:01):
smoke and the savory aroma of roasting meats and breads.
It was, by all accounts, a joyous pause in their
long struggle. Winslow wrote to his friends in England that quote,
by the goodness of God, we are so far from
want that we often wish you partakers of our plenty.

(32:24):
The sentiment was genuine. After so much deprivation, this bounty
felt miraculous. Yet it must be emphasized that this was
not a utopian banquet of unending peace. It was as
much a political gathering as a celebration Massasoit's attendants, with

(32:46):
ninety armed men, underscored the alliance and his power. Had
relations been unfriendly, such a show of force could have
turned deadly. Pilgrims, however, interpreted it as a sign of friendship.
Both sides were still appraising the other. Remember, Plymouth then

(33:11):
had only twenty able bodied men, a handful of women.
Most of the Pilgrim women had died the winter before,
and roughly twenty children. The Wampanoag present outnumbered them nearly
two to one. If hostility had flared, the feast could

(33:31):
have easily become a massacre. But it didn't. Tentative trust
held a dark, albeit poignant truth. Many were missing from
that table. Over half of the Mayflower company lay in

(33:55):
graves on the hill, unmarked and coal. Many Wampanoag families
had been so devastated by plague that they had no
kin at all to attend. Many of Massasoit's men perhaps
silently mourned their lost relatives as the pots simmered. In

(34:19):
that sense, the sixteen twenty one harvest gathering was not
merry innocence, but hard won survival. These survivors, English and
Wampanoag alike were celebrating life itself, dearly won at an
unthinkable cost. In that sense, it truly was a thanksgiving,

(34:45):
a humble gratitude that for now they had managed to
live through the worst. After three days, the Wampanoag packed
up and returned home, and the Pilgrims settled in for
a long winter. Neither side believed that future generations would

(35:07):
mythologize this meeting as the start of a timeless friendship.
They knew better. They had already had conflicts. Weeks earlier,
a pilgrim boy had nearly been shot by a Nauset arrow,
and they fully expected more clashes to come. But for

(35:28):
sixteen twenty one, at least, the specter of violence had lifted.
In fact, Governor Bradford didn't even record the feast in
the colony's journal. To him, it was just another harvest
festival with friendly guests. One of many such occasions needed

(35:51):
to cement the alliance. It was only Edward Winslow's letter
home that preserved the account for history. Winslow cheerfully noted
that the Indians have been all so kind and faithful
to us, and that there is now great peace amongst

(36:11):
the Indians themselves, which was not formerly, neither would have
been but for us. He implied that the English presence
had somehow calmed inter tribal strife. The reality was far
more complicated. Dark clouds were already gathering beyond the horizon

(36:35):
of this fragile peace. After the brief harmony of sixteen
twenty one, new trials arose. In November of that year,
the ship Fortune arrived, carrying thirty seven new colonists, mostly
young men, but it brought almost no supplies. Over night,

(36:59):
the mouth to feed in Plymouth nearly doubled. By spring
of sixteen twenty two, the colony was again on the
brink of starvation, rationing corn by the kernel. The Wampanoag
Alliance held Massasoit's people shared deer and fish when they could,

(37:20):
but the Pilgrims were learning how precarious frontier trust could be.
In early sixteen twenty two, trouble came from the west.
The Narragansett sachem Kennichus, uneasy about the English Wona Poag friendship,
sent the Plymouth settlers a rattlesnake skin filled with arrows,

(37:45):
the native symbol of war. Bradford's response was bold. He
filled the rattlesnake pouch with gunpowder and musket balls and
sent it back. The Narraganset, who had never seen gunpowder
up close, were reportedly mystified as well as intimidated. To them,

(38:07):
this snake skin, stuffed with quote thunder and lightning was
a clear counter threat. Legend holds that Cannachus was frightened
into backing down for the moment. Indeed, soon the Narraganset
themselves were distracted by wars with other tribes. By the

(38:28):
time they could turn their attention back, Plymouth was more
numerous and fortified, and another wave of English, the Puritans
of Massachusetts Bay Colony, had arrived in New England. Fate
and a bit of a bluff had spared Plymouth from
annihilation in sixteen twenty two. Still, the rattlesnake episode had

(38:53):
rattled Plymouth's nerves. The settlers hastily built a stout log
fort on the hill and set up constant watches. Each night,
they shut the wooden palisade gate and posted guards with
loaded muskets, eyes and ears straining into the darkness. The

(39:15):
knowledge that the thousand strong Narrowganset lurked somewhere in the
forests created an atmosphere of constant unease inside their cabins.
Families surely prayed with renewed fervor, likening themselves to Israelites
among the Canaanites, needing divine deliverance from surrounding foes. By day,

(39:41):
the colonists tried to project confidence, as Bradford's daring reply
had shown. By night, every crackle in the woods made
hearts skip a beat. As if that weren't enough, a
new complication arived on Plymouth's doorstep unruly Englishmen who did

(40:05):
not share the Pilgrim's ideals. A London merchant named Thomas
Weston had sponsored a separate settlement at Wessagusst, near modern Weymouth,
about thirty miles north. In sixteen twenty two. About sixty
of Weston's adventurers arrived, ill prepared and unorganized. They quickly

(40:31):
offended the local Massachusetts tribe by stealing corn and provisions.
When they ran short. Governor Bradford was mortified to learn
that these newcomers had raided Indian storehouses, cheated local Indians,
and shattered the goodwill Plymouth had built. By early sixteen

(41:00):
twenty three, Wessegusst was in chaos, its men near starvation,
even reportedly talking of cannibalism. The situation begged for disaster.
In March of sixteen twenty three, tensions finally erupted. The

(41:21):
Massachusetts tribe, perhaps led by Sachem Obtakiist, plotted to kill
the Wessegusst settlers and simultaneously strike Plymouth, assuming the colonists
would retaliate in panic. Massasoit, however, learned of this scheme
through his scouts. The sachem, who disliked Weston's greedy colonists, nevertheless,

(41:47):
did not want his English allies killed. At the same time,
Massasoit himself fell gravely ill on the verge of death.
Governor bred Bradford dispatched Edward Winslow to visit the sick
sachem with medicinal broths and comfort, a gesture of goodwill.

(42:09):
Squanto's intercession must have helped for Massasoit recovered. Grateful, he
told Bradford quote, now I see the English are my
friends and love me, and whilst I live, I will
never forget this kindness. True to his word, Massasoit then

(42:30):
revealed the brewing conspiracy and urged Plymouth to act first
before the attack came. Faced with this grim warning, the
Pilgrims had a terrible choice, stand and hope to survive
in ambush or strike first to head it off. They

(42:52):
chose the latter. Captain Miles Standish, the colony's hot tempered
military leader, a short man with a fierce reputation, assembled
a small strike force he prepared to sail north to
Wessegusst under the guise of trade and diplomacy, intent on

(43:14):
violence that he knew would stain the colonies very soul,
Captain Standish hand picked eight trustworthy men and quietly sailed
to Wessgussut in late March of sixteen twenty three. Arriving
under the pretense of peaceful trade, Standish found Weston's colony

(43:36):
in sorry shape. Quote in a miserable condition, Bradford writes,
half starved, terrorized, and on the brink of collapse. Near
by Massachusetts warriors waited and plotted, pretending to be friendly
while planning murder. Standish assessed the situation and devised a

(44:01):
brutal plan. He would invite the key conspirators to dine
under his roof, then strike swiftly inside the locked house.
If he could catch them off guard, maybe the settlers
could kill them before any alarm. Tension crackled in the

(44:23):
air on those days. The Wampanoac guide named Hobbamock with
Standish overheard whispers among the Massachusetts men. They seemed to
know trouble was coming. One warrior, Pecksuat, openly taunted Standish himself.
Pexuat was a large, fierce man, and he jeered at

(44:46):
Standish's short stature quote, you are a great captain, yet
you are but a little man. I am a man
of great strength and courage. He sneered, rapping his long
double edged knife Withituwamat. Another leader boasted of past killings

(45:08):
of Europeans and mocked the colonists for crying out when injured.
These men were no strangers to violence, and they provoked
Standish mercilessly. Standish, though burning inside, held back. He knew
the time to strike was near. Finally the moment came.

(45:33):
Standish invited Pecksuat, Withuamat and two other braves into a
small house within the stockade under a flag of truce.
Once the door was closed behind them, Standish sprang his trap.
He lunged at Peksuat, grabbing the warrior's own knife and

(45:53):
plunging it into him. Chaos erupted. Standish grappled with Pecksuat,
slashing wildly as they fell into furniture of their Englishmen
in the room, attacked Wituamat and the second warrior with
swords and daggers. It became a slaughter. Pexuat fought back

(46:15):
ferociously to the end, even as blood gushed from his wounds. Eventually,
Standish's strikes overcame him. Pexuat fell in a pool of blood.
Wituwamat and the other warriors were also cut down. The
floorboards ran red. Remarkably, even in death, Peksuat and Wittuamat

(46:40):
showed no fear. Winslow notes they received many wounds before
they died, not making any fearful noise, but catching at
their weapons and striving to last. Hobamock, watching from the
corner simply knotted grim At Standish's murderous efficiency outside. Unsuspecting

(47:06):
Massachusetts warriors camped nearby, and they had no idea the
ambush had occurred. Standish knew if any escaped, they would
spread alarm. He signaled the settlers to drag in any
natives left inside. Two more Massachusetts men were slained on

(47:27):
the spot, and one escaped into the woods, raising the
alarm in other villages. Standish then performed the gruesome task.
He severed with Tuamat's head and carried it back to Plymouth.
He had the skull mounted on a wooden spike atop

(47:48):
the fort's palisade. There the grinning trophy stared out over
the land, a horrifying warning to any Native who might
dare attack. When the bloody work was done, Standish sailed home.
The surviving Wessegussett colonists. Shaken to their cores, they all

(48:12):
agreed to abandon the settlement entirely. Some boarded ships headed
to England, a few begged to join Plymouth. Standish escorted
those refugees south, even sharing corn for their journey and
bringing some into the colonies fold. That April of sixteen

(48:35):
twenty three, Captain Standish arrived back in Plymouth with but
Tuwamat severed head on the fort wall. The colony had
managed to survive another existential threat. The chroniclers wrote of

(48:57):
it in tones of grim resolution. They noted the Massachusetts
warriors fled in terror, forsaking their houses, living like men,
distracted Plymouth's alliance with Massasoits stood. In fact, the Wampanoag
were relieved their enemies had been dealt a decisive blow.

(49:20):
But one stark truth had emerged. The idyllic image of
Pilgrims and Indians in eternal peace had been shattered by
one night's savagery. The colonists, though victorious, now lived behind
fortified walls. They kept vigilant watches at night. Every rustle

(49:45):
in the woods sent hearts racing. For months, even commerce suffered.
Many neighboring tribes, even those friendly to the English, were
appalled by this treachery against Ghas the flow of furs
to Plymouth dried up as natives kept their distance, Bradford

(50:08):
had to spend effort reassuring chiefs like Cannochists that Standish's
raid was a desperate, one time act, not the start
of a war on all natives. But once trust was broken,
it was hard to repair. Standish's attack was Plymouth's first

(50:30):
large scale violence, and it weighed on the colonist's consciences.
These were deeply religious people who believed in thou shalt
not kill, and they did not spill blood lightly. Even
Standish himself must have felt some spiritual burden. There's a

(50:51):
tale that in July of sixteen twenty three, at Plymouth's
next official day of thanksgiving for relief from a d
which tu Womat's rotting head was still mounted on the
fort wall. When Governor Bradford remarried that summer, his first
wife had drowned in sixteen twenty he reportedly insisted the

(51:16):
gruesome trophy remain in place, a startling statement of determination.
One of the wedding guests was Massasoit himself. Relations with
the wampanoagg had stayed relatively friendly. One can only imagine
what Massasoit thought seeing the skull of his enemy above

(51:39):
the colonists. He likely felt a grim sense of satisfaction,
evidence that English friendship came with the price of violence.
By late sixteen twenty three, the story of Plymouth was
no longer one of simple thanksgiving and fellowship. It had

(52:01):
become a story of survival at all costs, of uneasy
peace held together in part by fear. The fragile Treaty
of sixteen twenty one still stood. It may even have
been reinforced Massasoit needed the English more than ever. Now
that the Massachusetts tribe was cowed, and the English, having

(52:25):
proved themselves battle hardened, clearly impressed, the wampanoag No tribe
attacked Plymouth in retaliation. In fact, the Narragansett, upon hearing
how Standish had butchered the Massachusetts plotters, wisely kept to
their own affairs. In that sense, Standish's brutality had brought

(52:49):
the colony years of security, but the innocence of the
pilgrims was gone. They had come from England seeking a
life of prayer and peace. Instead, they found that peace
was fragile and sometimes had to be enforced at sword point.

(53:09):
Bradford's later writings carry a somber tone. He praised God
for delivering them from plots and treacheries of the Indians,
but sorrow underlies those words. When news of the wesse
A Gussett killings reached their pastor John Robinson in Holland.

(53:30):
He cautioned Bradford that quote blood cannot be wiped away
by blood, urging mercy even to enemies. Bradford defended their decision,
but it was clear he did so without enthusiasm. These
were people who believed in the Bible's commandment. Yet here

(53:52):
they were with a native chief's head on a pole.
By night they must have knelt if they had done
God's will or simply acted out of fear? And what
of the Wampanoegg. For Massasoit's people, the simple view of
the English as harmless friends was shattered. They now saw

(54:17):
that beyond Plymouth's kindness lay ruthless potential. Henceforth peace would
be maintained not just by good will, but by mutual fear.
The English had shown themselves capable of brutal vengeance. A
balance of terror had entered their relationship. Looking ahead, we

(54:41):
know with hindsight that this fragile peace would later unravel.
After Massasoit's death, his son Metacon would lead the Wampanoag
in a desperate war against New England in sixteen seventy five.
Perhaps the seeds of that very conflict were planted in

(55:02):
these early years of mistrust and violence for now, though
in sixteen twenty three, Plymouth stood battered but alive. In
the ensuing years, the colony even began to prosper. New
settlers arrived, more houses were built, crops improved, and trade

(55:25):
in furs and fish brought some income. The horrors of
that first winter and the specter of annihilation slowly faded
into memory. Every autumn, the pilgrims remembered how fortunate they
were to be alive. In sixteen twenty three, after timely

(55:47):
rains ended a summer drought, they held the aforementioned day
of Thanksgiving to God, followed by another modest harvest feast,
this time without any want. The Panoag guests a telling omission.
The warmth of sixteen twenty one had cooled. As years

(56:10):
turned to decades, a cautious coexistence defined Plymouth Wampanoag relations.
Massasoit remained a stalwart ally to the colony until his
death around sixteen sixty. He kept most of his people
from joining anti English wars, and even warned Plymouth of

(56:31):
danger whenever he could. Remarkably, his sixteen twenty one treaty
was honoured for over fifty years of official peace, yet
it remained a fragile piece, underscored by all that was
left unsaid. The English and Wampanoag dealt with each other

(56:52):
with civility, trading and negotiating, but never fully trusted one
another or blended their communities. Plymouth never again invited the
Wampagnoag to a joint Thanksgiving feast as they had in
sixteen twenty one. That silence was as telling as any treaty.

(57:22):
As we conclude this unsettling tale of the real first
Thanksgiving era, we must reflect on what it means to
give thanks amid darkness. The story of Plymouth in sixteen
twenty through sixteen twenty three is not a simple moral
tale of noble pilgrims and obliging Indians. It is a

(57:46):
human story, filled with hope and fear, generosity and cruelty,
life and death in almost equal measure. On that knife's edge,
people from two worlds found moments of genuine fellowship, a

(58:08):
shared meal, a life saving kindness, even as the specter
of violence and betrayal loomed. When we strip away the
comforting myth, what remains is a profound recognition that gratitude
itself was an act of courage. At their sixteen twenty

(58:30):
one feast, the Pilgrims bowed their heads, fully aware of
the graves behind them and the uncertain days ahead. The
Wampanoag who sat beside them had their own prayers, perhaps silent,
thankful for this moment of friendship, even as tomorrow was unknown.

(58:53):
They were thankful not for abundance or security they had
little of either, but for survival itself, for the very
fact that they were together under the same sky after
so much loss. For small miracles like a healed child,

(59:14):
or a successful harvest from barren soil, or a peaceful
night without an attack. The tone of those times was
often grim. Death was a constant visitor, desperation a frequent companion.
Both Pilgrim and Wampanoag elders might have gazed into the

(59:36):
fire on cold November nights and wondered, are we cursed
or chosen? Why did so many die so that we
might live in a world where every sunrise could be
our last. To simply see the sunrise at all was

(59:56):
reason enough for gratitude. So what is the real legacy
of that first Thanksgiving? When the story isn't sugarcoated. Perhaps
it is this quiet truth. Even in the face of
starvation and plague, people helped each other, Squanto teaching the

(01:00:19):
Pilgrims to plant corn, the Pilgrims nursing Massasoit back to health.
Even under the threat of extinction, people reached out in peace,
Like when Massasoit in the Pilgrims forged a pact to
save their communities, And even after violence and bloodshed, some

(01:00:41):
shred of decency remain, perhaps remorseful. The Pilgrims never struck
again at Massasoit, and he never lifted his hand against them.
In a world of mutual mistrust, they kept faith, fragile
and color implicated, but faith none the less. As this

(01:01:05):
tale ends, picture the autumn of sixteen twenty three, the
harvest is done. A few colonists stand on the fort
hill beneath a grisly reminder of war, Wittuwamat's skull perched
on the palisade, gazing westward into wampanoagg lands. Somewhere out there,

(01:01:29):
Massasoit's people are also settling in for the night. Perhaps
on such an evening, no musket is fired and no
arrow is loosed in vengeance. Perhaps far off, one can
almost hear a Wampanoag chant or an English psalm blending

(01:01:51):
in the dusk, each side giving thanks in their own
way for to day, at least there is peace. The
story of the First Thanksgiving reminds us that peace is fragile,
prosperity can be fleeting, but human resilience is extraordinary. The

(01:02:16):
Pilgrims and the Wampanoac endured unspeakable losses, yet both found
ways to adapt, to hope, and even to celebrate together
in the face of death. They chose life, and that
alone is something to be thankful for, not in a naive,

(01:02:39):
sugar coated way, but deeply and solemnly thankful for survival,
thankful for courage, thankful for the mere possibility of coexistence
against all odds. So when we think of that thanksgiving,

(01:03:01):
let us remember the empty chairs at the sixteen twenty
one table, the fallen colonists, and the parish natives whose
absence was felt by all. Let us honor them by
cherishing the gift of life and peace we have now.
The true history is not simple, but it means all

(01:03:24):
the more because it was hard won. Bradford himself paraphrased
the psalms to capture this very truth that God quote
filled the hungry with good things even in the wilderness.
In the end, survival, resilience, and fragile coexistence were the

(01:03:47):
true blessings of that first Thanksgiving era. That legacy endures,
urging us to give thanks not for fairy tales, but
for the remarkable strength of ordinary people who, in a
very dark time, kept the light of humanity flickering. Terrifying

(01:04:13):
and True is narrated by Enrique Kuto. It's executive produced
by Rob Fields and bobble Toopia dot com and produced
by Dan Wilder, with original theme music by Ray Mattis.
If you have a story you think we should cover
on Terrifying and True, send us an email at Weekly
Spooky at gmail dot com, and if you want to
support us for as little as one dollar a month,

(01:04:34):
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(01:04:55):
Jack Ker, and Craig Cohen. Thank you all so much,
and thank you for listening. We'll see you all right
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Terrifying & True | Dark Realities of the First Thanksgiving: Survival, Plague, and a Fragile Peace

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