His son Alexander succeeded him. A suspicion was early entertained by the English that he was plotting with the Narragansets. He was summoned to appear at Plymouth, but he avoided the summons upon some pretence, which probably had no real foundation. The Governor of Plymouth with about ten men proceeded to compel his attendance. Alexander was then upon a hunting excursion with a small party of warriors. He was found in Middleboro', refreshing himself in a tent after the fatigues of the chase. His arms, having been left outside, were seized by the English. Some accounts state that Alexander went voluntarily towards Plymouth, others say that the Governor told him that if he did not go he was a dead man. But all accounts agree that he was soon violently sick, and that the efforts to relieve him were unavailing. He was allowed to return home and was borne away upon the shoulders of his faithful warriors. Hubbard says, "Such was the pride and height of his spirit, that the very surprisal of him so raised his choler and indignation, that it put him into a fever, which, notwithstanding all possible means that could be used, seemed mortal." And so it proved. Philip witnessed this unjust arrest of his brother, chief of a proud and free race; he remembered his father's services and fidelity; he saw his people dispossessed of their hunting grounds, and an unknown religion zealously pressed upon them. To him there was in the present only humiliation and disgrace, in the future only ignominy and death. With this history and these gloomy anticipations of the future, Philip became the sachem of the Pokanokets. He had never been a favorite with the English, yet early in life they had named him Philip, and his brother Wamsutta, Alexander; a singular yet just appreciation of their high spirit and warlike character. The colonists justly regarded these young men as dangerous to the public peace, and there was never a moment of true friendship after the death of Massasoit. The particular occasion of the war was the murder by Philip's agents of one Sassamon, an educated Indian, who had been his private secretary. Having in this confidential station obtained a knowledge of Philip's plans, he went to the English, by whom he had been educated, and probably disclosed his master's secrets. Philip secured his death, and of all who fell in fight or fray, or on the gallows swung, none deserved death before Sassamon. The comprehensive mind of Philip saw at once the terrible nature and probable consequences of the war thus brought upon him. It is said that he wept, and that from that time forth he never smiled. But he laid new sacrifices upon the altar of his people's liberty, invoked the spirit of his ancestors, and exhibited resources and courage worthy of a heroic age.