More on Metamora

Metamora is the “stage name” given to Metacomet, the 2nd son of Wampanoag sachem Massasoit, in John Augustus Stone’s 1829 drama Metamora; or the Last of the Wampanoags.  You might remember Massasoit as the leader who sent Samoset to greet the Pilgrims, and who subsequently made hesitant use of Tisquantum (Squanto) as interpreter.  It all ended in “the 1st Thanksgiving.”  Massasoit negotiated and maintained almost 50 years of  peace with the Pilgrims.  But this ended, in 1675, in King Philip’s War.  King Philip was no other than Metacomet, whose older brother had died mysteriously after a trade mission to another settlement.  This Wampanoag sachem was neither pro-English nor passive.  He did his best to forge an alliance of neighboring tribes and then make war [a gross summary, I know – keep reading].

When I stumbled upon a mention of Stone’s play (and then purchased it from Amazon), I became curious to learn more about Metacomet.  So, this post is sharing my learning,  for teachers who might want to dive into this aspect of Maine’s history.

King Philip’s short but nonetheless blooody and fateful war officially ended in Maine two years after Philip’s death (Treaty of Casco Bay, 1678).  Even though it resulted in the decimation of English settlements from Pemaquid south and Native lands, populations, settlements and nations in the same region, it receives short shrift in Maine’s social studies texts.  Finding Katahdin allows about a page. Interestingly, the coverage includes a map of the “massacres,” but no mention of Squando, the Saco chief who forged a loose confederation of nations in what is now southern Maine and New Hampshire in order to fight the English (and to avenge the death of his infant son).  A Journey Through Maine allows King Philip’s War about 2/3 of a column in all.  It omits Squando entirely, wrongly implying instead that the war in Maine was led by Philip and ended with his death.  It does mention, in general terms, the extraordinarily high toll of the war – for the English (specifically, 1.5% of English New England population killed overall, in Maine the vast majority of the settlements & homesteads destroyed with total loss of crops and livestock).  Not mentioned is the estimated 15% of the Native population killed and the countless others sold into slavery.  Maine Dirigo contains the fullest account – over 4 pages. It separates King Philip’s war from the Maine “raids,” tells (emotionally) of the death of Squando’s child and also covers several other tribal leaders.  Of the three, it is by far the most Native-centered.  Don’t throw out those old texts yet!  (If you are lacking Dirigo and want a copy of the chapter, contact my favorite Social Studies teacher – Shawn Favreau at Freeport Middle School, RSU5).

At the end of this post, I have collected links to the most informative websites on the topic of King Philip’s War.  If you plow through them, you will find that once again the “facts” are in disarray.  As is true of so many points on the Native timeline, because history was not told or recorded (for the most part) by the Natives themselves, the “facts” are often conjecture.  In fact, Native history is a wonderful way for students to learn how to really read secondary sources!  Some accounts are relatively neutral in tone, while others are embarrassingly Anglo-centered.  Facts about battles, dates, Native tribes and leaders vary (local historical societies are helping here).  Motives ascribed to the Natives and the English (and often the French, who were peripheral to this conflict) vary even more.  It is not my purpose to write a history, but to point those who want to come to terms with King Philip’s War in the direction of learning for themselves.

What I do want to do is to comment on the legacy of this short war.  Beginning at the ending, take a look at this board game that can be played in your classroom.  Think about it – I wonder what my 7th grade students would learn from the activity.  I wonder if I would overhear stereotypical comments about Puritans, colonial soldiers and citizens, and Natives, or whether they are beyond that.  I wonder what percentage of each population would die.  If the board’s map were extended by students to include one of the Maine territory maps available in texts (see above), settlement sights, rivers, and territory could be learned.  It might be an interesting teaching tool…  If you only mention the game, ask students what the fact that King Philip’s war can inspire a game tells them about the conflict itself (strategic, bloody, multi-faceted, one-side, devious, suspenseful, land-based, classic conflict – all true).

Next, I point you at this somewhat startling post on StephenKing.com’s forum.  Scroll down to read the “true story” of how Metacomet got the name King Philip.  I don’t know who made this post (and I don’t want to join to find out), certainly not Stephen King, but I find it curious that even one person is so engaged in this story that he/she would want to fabricate a “better history” – and then creates one that is both romantic and stereotypical – perhaps he/she needs to take Stereotypes 101 from Joseph Charnley (see Wabanaki Connections).  On the other hand, the “history” of Metacomet’s English name is confusing.  In some accounts, he takes the English name as part of  “getting along with the English,”  in another as part of a religious conversion. More likely true, I think, is the explanation that the Pilgrims, anti-king to the core,  gave him this name as a form of derision. It does seem that Philip adopted it and used it as a signature.  Perhaps the truth lies somewhere in between.  At any rate, Metacoment did not live to write his memoirs, so his character is fair game.  Challenge your students to write an I-search essay in which they carve out a “character” for this man.

Cutting to the chase, I have learned that Metamora; or the Last of the Wampanoags was by far the most popular play of its day – and for several decades after its day. [Alas, you need to purchase the book to read it.  See links at Open Library].  Although this is probably partly due to the immense popularity of its star Edwin Forrest (who also commissioned the play in a way by creating a contest for the writing of a play with a Native subject – see the wikipedia article for a nice image of Forrest as Metamora),  it is the Native subject that was the real sell.  After the Revolution and before the Civil War, “land ho!” was the non-Native battle cry in this country.  To be brief, believing that the “noble savage” was gone – alas! – made it easier for Eastern citizens and others to ignore or rationalize the forced Native removals (1831 – Trail of Tears, for example) and Jackson’s other Indian policies (beginning in 1830).  So this slight little play becomes a symbol of – what?

  • Noble savage – but highly educated noble savage.  My favorite Metamora line is this: “And this true knife that has tasted the foul blood of your nation and now is read with the purest of mind, will feel a grasp as when it flashed in the blaze of your burning dwellings, or was lifted terribly over the fallen in battle.”  In fact, in the play Philip acts more nobly than Captain Church (an actual officer in King Philip’s War). He is a loving father and husband, who kills his wife rather than see her enslaved.
  • Disappearing Indian –  Metamora (and his family) die, their nation destroyed, but they live forever through the play – get it?

And there you go – It was there.  It is gone.  Captain Church did the deed (not me), and I weep.

People paid money to watch this melodrama over and over again.  A soap.  Or maybe the “reality TV” of its day.  But wait!  There is more!

Not all of stage-struck America was taken in by the myth of the noble savage.  A parody, or burlesque, appeared in 1847 – John Brougham’s Metamora: or the Last of the Pollywogs.  Thanks be to the Internet, you can download this drama for free.  I like the choices at Open Library.  Give it a look.  I think it would go farther in my classroom than the King Philip’s War board game.  Here is a snip of dialogue:

Metamora speaks in burlesque

Metamora speaks in burlesque

The battle lines are clearly drawn.  Interestingly, both Metamora and his non-Native antagonists allude to what we now know are the truths of Native v. European contact.  This may be burlesque, but in our hindsight and with our learning, it is not funny.  The students might wonder if it was ever funny – or if it had an effect not unlike Mash and similar TV sweet-sour satires of real war.  It is rampant with stereotypes, yes.  At times Metamora sounds like one of the Beverly Hillbellies (interesting) and his wife (a “sqaw” named Tapiokee) like a caricature Chinese wife (perhaps because of the immigration from the western coast – RR building).  In fact, Metamora’s death is downright laughable, not at all noble:

Screen shot 2010-07-24 at 8.57.24 PMOUCH!

If I were a high school teacher, I would do both plays.  As a middle school teacher, I think I might do the parody.   It appeals, I think, to today’s kid sensibilities. It appeals to my own love of symbol, allusion and analogy. There is enough dialect to teach that term without reading Tom Sawyer. But I will mine it with enough background (they will also get that in social studies) so that the ironies and sarcasms of 1847 will be real today.

P.S.  Be sure to tell kids the one fact that all histories agree upon: Metacomet was betrayed, killed, beheaded, and his body cut into quarters. His head was put on a spike and displayed for 20 years.  This was a much feared opponent!

Resources for King Philip’s War (selected)

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