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Mrs. Mary Rowlandson, Wife of the Rev. Joseph Rowlandson, Who Was Taken Prisoner when Lancaster was Destroyed, in the Year 1676; Written by Herself.
On the 10th of February, 1676, came the Indians with great numbers ((Fifteen hundred was the number, according to the best authorities. They were the Wamponoags, led by King Philip, accompanied by the Narrhagansett, his allies, and also by the Nipmucks and Nashaways whom his artful eloquence had persuaded to join with him.)) upon Lancaster: their first coming was about sun-rising. Hearing the noise of some guns, we looked out; several houses were burning, and the smoke ascending to heaven. There were five persons taken in one house; the father and mother, and a sucking child they knocked on the head, the other two they took and carried away alive. There were two others, who, being out of their garrison upon occasion, were set upon, one was knocked on the head, the other escaped. Another there was, who, running along, was shot and wounded, and fell down; he begged of them his life, promising them money, as they told me, but they would not hearken to him, but knocked him on the head, stripped him naked, and split open his bowels. Another, seeing many of the Indians about his barn, ventured and went out, but was quickly shot down. There were three others belonging to the same garrison who were killed; the Indians getting up upon the roof of the barn, had advantage to shoot down upon them over their fortification. Thus these murderous wretches went on burning and destroying all before them.1
At length they came and beset our house, and quickly it was the dolefulest day that ever mine eyes saw. The house stood upon the edge of a hill; ((Mr. Rowlandson’s house was on the brow of a small hill, on land now owned by Nathaniel Chandler, Esq., about a third of a mile south-west of the meeting-house, on the road leading from the center of the town to the village called New-Boston, about two rods from the road, which at that time ran near the house.)) some of the Indians got behind the hill, ethers into the barn, and others behind anything that would shelter them; from all which places they shot against the house, so that the bullets seemed to fly like hail, and quickly they wounded one man among us, then another, and then a third. About two hours, according to my observation in that amazing time, they had been about the house before they prevailed to fire it, which they did with flax and hemp which they brought out of the barn, and there being no defense about the house, only two flankers at two opposite corners, and one of them not finished; they fired it once, and one ventured out and quenched it, but they quickly fired it again, and that took. Now is the dreadful hour come that I have often heard of in time of the war, as it was the case of others, but now mine eyes see it. Some in our house were fighting for their lives, others wallowing in blood, the house on fire over our heads, and the bloody heathen ready to knock us on the head if we stirred out. Now might we hear mothers and children crying out for themselves and one another, “Lord, what shall we do!” Then I took my children, and one of my sisters [Mrs. Drew] hers to go forth and leave the house, but as soon as we came to the door and appeared, the Indians shot so thick that the bullets rattled against the house as if one had taken a handful of stones and threw them, so that we were forced to give back.
We had six stout dogs belonging to our garrison, ((Mr. Rowlandson’s house was filled with soldiers and inhabitants, to the number of forty-two.)) but none of them would stir, though at another time if an Indian had come to the door, they were ready to fly upon him and tear him down. The Lord hereby would make us the more to acknowledge his hand, and to see that our help is always in him. But out we must go, the fire increasing, and coming along behind us roaring, and the Indians gaping before us with their guns, spears, and hatchets to devour us. No sooner were we out of the house, but my brother-in-law ((Thomas Rowlandson, brother to the clergyman.)) (being before wounded in defending the house, in or near the throat) fell down dead, whereat the Indians scornfully shouted and hollowed, and were presently upon him, stripping off his clothes. The bullets flying thick, one went through my side, and the same, as would seem, through the bowels and hand of my poor child in my arras. One of my elder sister’s children, named William, had then his leg broke which the Indians perceiving, they knocked him on the head. Thus were we butchered by those merciless heathens, standing amazed, with the blood running down to our heels. My eldest sister ((Mrs. Kerley, wife of Capt. Henry Kerley, to whom she was married in 1654.)) being yet in the house, and seeing those woeful sights, the infidels hailing mothers one way and children another, and some wallowing in their blood; and her eldest son telling her that her son William was dead, and myself was wounded, she said, “Lord, let me die with them:” which was no sooner said but she was struck with a bullet, and fell down dead over the threshold. I hope she is reaping the fruit of her good labors, being faithful to the service of God in her place. In her younger years she lay under much trouble upon spiritual accounts, till it pleased God to make that precious scripture take hold of her heart, 2 Cor. 12: 9, “And he said unto me, My grace is sufficient for thee.” More than twenty years after, I have heard her tell how sweet and comfortable that place was to her. But to return: The Indians laid hold of us, pulling me one way and the children another, and said, “Come, go along with us.” I told them they would kill me; they answered, If I were willing to go along with them they would not hurt me.
Oh! the doleful sight that now was to behold at this house! Come; behold the works of the Lord, what desolations he has made in the earth. Of thirty-seven persons ((We have stated in a previous note that there were forty-two persons in the house, in which number are included five soldiers not reckoned by Mrs. Rowlandson.)) who were in this one house, none escaped either present death, or a bitter captivity, save only one, ((Ephraim Roper, whose wife was killed in attempting to escape.)) who might say as in Job 1: 15, “And I only am escaped alone to tell the news.” There were twelve killed, some shot, some stabbed with their spears, some knocked down with their hatchets. When we are in prosperity, Oh the little that we think of such dreadful sights, to see our dear mends and relations lie bleeding out their hearts-blood upon the ground. There was one who was chopt in the head with a hatchet, and stript naked, and yet was crawling up and down. It was a solemn sight to see so many Christians lying in their blood, some here and some there, like a company of sheep torn by wolves; all of them stript naked by a company of hell-hounds, roaring, singing, ranting, and insulting, as if they would have torn our very hearts out; yet the Lord, by his almighty power, preserved a number of us from death, for there were twenty-four of us taken alive and carried captive.
I had often before this said, that if the Indians should come, if should choose rather to be killed by them than taken alive, but when it came to the trial, my mind changed; their glittering weapons so daunted my spirit, that I chose rather to go along with those (as I may say) ravenous bears, than that moment to end my days. And that I may the better declare what happened to me during that grievous captivity, I shall particularly speak of the several Removes we had up and down the wilderness.
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The First Remove
Now away we must go with those barbarous creatures, with our bodies wounded and bleeding, and our hearts no less than our bodies. About a mile we went that night, up upon a hill, ((George Hill, which has been so called for more than one hundred and fifty years. It is said to have taken its name from an Indian whom the English called George, and who had a wigwam upon it. The name in eludes the whole range of the fertile and delightful ridge on the west side of the town, nearly two miles in extent. From the southern part, which is almost a distinct hill, is a fine view of the town and surrounding country.)) within sight of the town, where we intended to lodge. There was hard by a vacant house, deserted by the English before, for fear of the Indians; I asked them whether I might not lodge in the house that night; to which they answered, “What, will you love Englishmen still?” This was the dolefulest night that ever my eyes saw. Oh the roaring, and singing, and dancing, and yelling of those black creatures in the night, which made the place a lively resemblance of hell. And miserable was the waste that was there made of horses, cattle, sheep, swine, calves, lambs, roasting pigs, and fowls, (which they had plundered in the town,) some roasting, some lying and burning, and some boiling, to feed our merciless enemies; who were joyful enough, though we were disconsolate. To add to the dolefulness of the former day, and the dismalness of the present night, my thoughts ran upon my losses and sad, bereaved condition. All was gone, my husband gone, ((Mr. Rowlandson, with Capt. Kerley and Mr. Drew, were at this time in Boston, soliciting the governor and council for more soldiers, for the protection of the place.)) (at least separated from me, he being in the Bay; and to add to my grief, the Indians told me they would kill him as he came homeward,) my children gone, my relations and friends gone, ((No less than seventeen of Mr. Rowlandson’s family were put to death or taken prisoners.)) our house and home, and all our comforts within door and without, all was gone, (except my life,) and I knew not but the next moment that might go too.
There remained nothing to me but one poor, wounded babe, and it seemed at present worse than death, that it was in such a pitiful condition, bespeaking compassion, and I had no refreshing for it, nor suitable things to revive it. Little do many think what is the savageness and brutishness of this barbarous enemy, those even that seem to profess more than others among them, when the English have fallen into their hands.
Those seven that were killed at Lancaster the summer before upon a Sabbath day, and the one that was afterward killed upon a week-day, were slain and mangled in a barbarous manner, by One-eyed John and Marlborough’s praying Indians, which Capt. Mosely brought to Boston, as the Indians told me.
The Second Remove
But now (the next morning) I must turn my back upon the town, and travel with them into the vast and desolate wilderness, I know not whither. It is not my tongue or pen can express the sorrows of my heart, and bitterness of my spirit, that I had at this departure; but God was with me in a wonderful manner, carrying me along and bearing up my spirit, that it did not quite fail. One of the Indians carried my poor wounded babe upon a horse: it went moaning all along, “I shall die, I shall die” I went on foot after it with sorrow that cannot be expressed. At length I took it off the horse, and carried it in my arms, till my strength failed and I fell down with it. Then they set me upon a horse with my wounded child in my lap, and there being no furniture on the horse’s back, as we were going down a steep hill, we both fell over the horse’s head, at which they like inhuman creatures laughed, and rejoiced to see it, though I thought we should there have ended our days, overcome with so many difficulties. But the Lord renewed my strength still, and carried me along, that I might see more of his power, yea, so much that I could never have thought of, had I not experienced it.
After this it quickly began to snow, and when night came on they stopt. And now down I must sit in the snow, by a little fire, and a few boughs behind me, with my sick child in my lap, and calling much for water, being now, through the wound, fallen into a violent fever; my own wound also growing so stiff, that I could scarce sit down or rise up, yet so it must be, that I must sit all this cold, winter night upon the cold snowy ground, with my sick child in my arms, looking that every hour would be the last of its life, and having no Christian friend near me, either to comfort or help me. Oh, I may see the wonderful power of God, that my spirit did not utterly sink under my affliction; still the Lord upheld me with his gracious and merciful spirit, and we were both alive to see the light of the next morning.
The Third Remove
The morning being come, they prepared to go on their way; one of the Indians got upon a horse, and they sat me up behind him, with my poor sick babe in my lap. A very wearisome and tedious day I had of it; what with my own wound, and my child being so exceeding sick, and in a lamentable condition with her wound, it may easily be judged what a poor, feeble condition we were in, there being not the least crumb of refreshing that came within either of our mouths from Wednesday night to Saturday night, except only a little cold water. This day in the afternoon about an hour by sun, we came to the place where they intended, viz. an Indian town called Wenimesset, [New Braintree] northward of Quabaug, [Brookfield.] When we were come, Oh the number of Pagans, now merciless enemies, that there came about me, that I may say as David, Psal. 27: 13, “I had fainted unless I had believed” &c. The next day was the Sabbath. I then remembered how careless I had been of God’s holy time; how many Sabbaths I had lost and misspent, and how evilly I had walked in God’s sight; which lay so close upon my spirit, that it was easy for me to see how righteous it was with God to cut off the thread of my life, and cast me out of his presence for ever. Yet the Lord still showed mercy to me, and helped me; and as he wounded me with one hand, so he healed me with the other. This day there came to me one Robert Pepper, a man belonging to Roxbury, who was taken at Capt. Beers’ fight, and had been now a considerable time with the Indians, and up with them almost as far as Albany, to see King Philip, as he told me, and was now very lately come into these parts. Hearing, I say, that I was in this Indian town, he obtained leave to come and see me. He told me he himself was wounded in the leg at Capt. Beers’ fight, and was not able some time to go, but as they carried him, and that he took oak leaves and laid to his wound, and by the blessing of God he was able to travel again. Then took I oak leaves and laid to my side, and with the blessing of God it cured me also; yet before the cure was wrought, I may say as it is in Psal. 38: 5, 6, “My wounds stink and are corrupt. I am troubled; I am bowed down greatly; I go mourning all the day long.” I sat much alone with my poor wounded child in my lap, which moaned night and day, having nothing to revive the body or cheer the spirits of her; but instead of that, one Indian would come and tell me one hour, ” Your master will knock your child on the head,” and then a second, and then a third, “Your master will quickly knock your child on the head.”
This was the comfort I had from them; miserable comforters were they all. Thus nine days I sat upon my knees, with my babe in my lap, till my flesh was raw again. My child being even ready to depart this sorrowful world, they bid me carry it out to another wigwam, I suppose because they would not be troubled with such spectacles; whither I went with a very heavy heart, and down I sat with the picture of death in my lap. About two hours in the night, my sweet babe like a lamb departed this life, on Feb. 18, 1676, it being about six years and five months old. ((This child’s name was Sarah; born Sept. 15, 1669.)) It was nine days from the first wounding in this miserable condition, without any refreshing of one nature or another except a little cold water. I cannot but take notice, how at another time I could not bear to be in a room where a dead person was, but now the case is changed; I must and could lie down with my dead babe all the night after. I have thought since of the wonderful goodness of God to me in preserving me so in the use of my reason and senses, in that distressed time, that I did not use wicked and violent means to end my own miserable life. In the morning when they understood that my child was dead, they sent me home to my master’s wigwam. By my master in this writing must be understood Quannopin, who was a Sagamore, and married King Philip’s wife’s sister; not that he first took me, but I was sold to him by a Narraganset Indian, who took me when I first came out of the garrison. I went to take up my dead child in my arms to carry it with me, but they bid me let it alone. There was no resisting, but go I must and leave it. When I had been awhile at my master’s wigwam, I took the first opportunity I could get to go look after my dead child. “When I came I asked them what they had done with it. They told me it was on the hill. ((This hill, in the town of New Braintree, is now known as the burial place of Mrs. Rowlandson’s child.)) Then they went and showed me where it was, where I saw the ground was newly digged and where they told me they had buried it. There I left that child in the wilderness, and must commit it and myself also in this wilderness condition to Him who is above all. God having taken away this dear child, I went to see my daughter Mary, who was at the same Indian town, at a wigwam not very far off, though we had little liberty or opportunity to see one another; she was about ten years old, and taken from the door at first by a praying Indian, and afterwards sold for a gun. “When I came in sight she would fall a weeping, at which they were provoked, and would not let me come near her, but bid me be gone; which was a heart-cutting word to me. I had one child dead, another in the wilderness, I knew not where, the third they would not let me come near to; “Me (as he said) have ye bereaved of my children; Joseph is not, and Simeon is not, and ye will take Benjamin also; all these things are against me.” I could not sit still in this condition, but kept walking from one place to another; and as I was going along, my heart was even overwhelmed with the thoughts of my condition, and that I should have children, and a nation that I knew not ruled over them. Whereupon I earnestly entreated the Lord that he would consider my low estate, and show me a token for good, and if it were his blessed will, some sign and hope of some relief. And indeed quickly the Lord answered in some measure my poor prayer; for as I was going up and down mourning and lamenting my condition, my son [Joseph] came to me and asked me how I did. I had not seen him before since the destruction of the town; and I knew not where he was, till I was informed by himself that he was among a smaller parcel of Indians, whose place was about six miles off. With tears in his eyes, he asked me whether his sister Sarah was dead, and told me he had seen his sister Mary, and prayed me that I would not be troubled in reference to himself. The occasion of his coming to see me at this time was this: there was, as I said, about six miles from us, a small plantation of Indians, where it seems he had been during his captivity, and at this time there were some forces of the Indians gathered out of our company, and some also from them, amongst whom was my son’s master, to go to assault and burn Medfield. In this time of his master’s absence his dame brought him to see me. I took this to be some gracious answer to my earnest and unfeigned desire. The next day the Indians returned from Medfield; ((Medfield was attacked Feb. 21.)) all the company, for those that belonged to the other smaller company came through the town that we now were at; but before they came to us, Oh the outrageous roaring and whooping that there was! they began their din about a mile before they came to us. By their noise and whooping they signified how many they had destroyed; which was at that time twenty-three. Those that were with us at home were gathered together as soon as they heard the whooping and every time that the other went over their number, these at home gave a shout, that the very earth rang again. And thus they continued till those that had been upon the expedition were come up to the Sagamores wigwam; and then Oh the hideous insulting and triumphing that there was over some Englishmen’s scalps that they had taken, as their manner is, and brought with them. I cannot but take notice of the wonderful mercy of God to me in those afflictions, in sending me a Bible. One of the Indians that came from Medfield fight, and had brought some plunder, came to me, and asked me if I would have a Bible; he had got one in his basket. I was glad of it, and asked him if he thought the Indians would let me read. He answered yes. So I took the Bible, and in that melancholy time it came into my mind to read first the twenty-eighth chapter of Deuteronomy, which I did, and when I had read it my dark heart wrought on this manner: that there was no mercy for me, that the blessings were gone, and the curses came in their room, and that I had lost my opportunity. But the Lord helped me still to go on reading, till I came to chap. 30, the seven first verses; where I found there was mercy promised again, if we would return to him by repentance; and though we were scattered from one end of the earth to the other, yet the Lord would gather us together, and turn all those curses upon our enemies. I do not desire to live to forget this scripture, and what comfort it was to me.
Now the Indians began to talk of removing from this place, some one way and some another. There were now besides myself nine English captives in this place, all of them children except one woman. I got an opportunity to go and take my leave of them, they being to go one way and I another. I asked them whether they were earnest with God for deliverance. They told me they did as they were able and it was some comfort to me that the Lord stirred up children to look to him. The woman, viz. goodwife Joslin. ((Abraham Joslin’s wife.)) told me she should never sec me again, and that she could find in her heart to run away by any means, for we were near thirty miles from any English town, ((This was true at that time, as Brookfield, (Quaboag,) within a few miles of “Wenimesset”, was destroyed by the Indians in August, 1675. The nearest towns were those on Connecticut river.)) and she very big with child, having but one week to reckon, and another child in her arms two years old; and bad rivers there were to go over, and we were feeble with our poor and coarse entertainment. I had my Bible with me. I pulled it out, and asked her whether she would read. We opened the Bible, and lighted on Psalm 27, in which Psalm we especially took notice of that verse, ” Wait on the Lord, be of good courage, and he shall strengthen thine heart; wait I say on the Lord.”
The Fourth Remove
And now must I part with the little company I had. Here I parted with my daughter Mary, ((Born August 12, 1665.)) whom I never saw again till I saw her in Dorchester, returned from captivity, and from four little cousins and neighbors, some of which I never saw afterward; the Lord only knows the end of them. Among them also was that poor woman before mentioned, who came to a sad end, as some of the company told me in my travel. She having much grief upon her spirits about her miserable condition, being so near her time, she would be often asking the Indians to let her go home. They not being willing to that, and yet vexed with her importunity, gathered a great company together about her, and stript her naked and set her in the midst of them; and when they had sung and danced about her in their hellish manner as long as they pleased, they knocked her on the head, and the child in her arms with her. When they had done that, they made a fire and put them both into it, and told the other children that were with them, that if they attempted to go home they would serve them in like manner. The children said she did not shed one tear, but prayed all the while. But to turn to my own journey. We travelled about a half a day or a little more, and came to a desolate place in the wilderness, where there were no wigwams or inhabitants before. We came about the middle of the afternoon to this place, cold, wet, and snowy, and hungry, and weary, and no refreshing for man, but the cold ground to sit on, and our poor Indian cheer.
Heart-aching thoughts here I had about my poor children, who were scattered up and down among the wild beasts of the forest. My head was light and dizzy, either through hunger or bad lodging, or trouble, or all together, my knees feeble, my body raw by sitting double night and day, that I cannot express to man the affliction that lay upon my spirit, but the Lord helped me at that time to express it to himself. I opened my Bible to read, and the Lord brought that precious scripture to me, Jer. 31: 16, “Thus saith the Lord, refrain thy voice from weeping, and thine eyes from tears, for thy work shall be rewarded, and they shall come again from the land of the enemy.” This was a sweet cordial to me when I was ready to faint. Many and many a time have I sat down and wept sweetly over this scripture. At this place we continued about four days.
The Fifth Remove
The occasion, as I thought, of their removing at this time, was the English army’s being near and following them; for they went as if they had gone for their lives for some considerable way; and then they made a stop, and chose out some of their stoutest men, and sent them back to hold the English army in play whilst the rest escaped; and then, like Jehu, they marched on furiously, with their old and young: some carried their old, decrepit mothers, some carried one, and some another. Four of them carried a great Indian upon a bier; but going through a thick wood with him, they were hindered, and could make no haste; whereupon they took him upon their backs, and carried him one at a time, till we came to Bacquag2 River. Upon Friday, a little after noon, we came to this river. When all the company was come up and were gathered together, I thought to count the number of them, but they were so many, and being somewhat in motion, it was beyond my skill. In this travel, because of my wound, I was somewhat favored in my load. I carried only my knitting-work, and two quarts of parched meal. Being very faint, I asked my mistress to give me one spoonful of the meal, but she would not give me a taste. They quickly fell to cutting dry trees, to make rafts to carry them over the river, and soon my turn came to go over. By the advantage of some brush which they had laid upon the raft to sit on, I did not wet my foot, while many of themselves at the other end were mid-leg deep, which cannot but be acknowledged as a favor of God to my weakened body, it being a very cold time. I was not before acquainted with such kind of doings or dangers. “When thou passeth through the waters I will be with thee, and through the rivers they shall not overflow thee” Isa. 43: 2. A certain number of us got over the river that night, but it was the night after the Sabbath before all the company was got over. On the Saturday they boiled an old horse’s leg which they had got, and so we drank of the broth, as soon as they thought it was ready, and when it was almost all gone they filled it up again.
The first week of my being among them, I hardly eat anything; the second week I found my stomach grow very faint for want of something, and yet it was very hard to get down their filthy trash; but the third week, though I could think how formerly my stomach would turn against this or that, and I could starve and die before I could eat such things, yet they were pleasant and savory to my taste. I was at this time knit-ting a pair of white cotton stockings for my mistress, and I had not yet wrought upon the Sabbath day. When the Sabbath came, they bid me go to work. I told them it was Sabbath day, and desired them to let me rest, and told them I would do as much more work to-morrow; to which they answered me they would break my face. And here I cannot but take notice of the strange providence of God in preserving the heathen. They were many hundreds, old and young, some sick, and some lame; many had papooses at their backs; the greatest number at this time with us were squaws; and yet they traveled with all they had, bag and baggage, and they got over this river aforesaid; and on Monday they sat their wigwams on fire, and away they went. On that very day came the English army after them to this river, and saw the smoke of their wigwams, and yet this river put a stop to them. God did not give them courage or activity to go over after us. We were not ready for so great a mercy as victory and deliverance; if we had been, God would have found out a way for the English to have passed this river, as well as for the Indians, with their squaws and children, and all their luggage. “O that my people had hearkened unto me, and Israel had walked in my ways; I should soon have subdued their enemies, and turned my hand against their adversaries” Psal. 81: 13, 14.
The Sixth Remove
On Monday, as I said, they set their wigwams on fire, and went away. It was a cold morning, and before us there was a great brook with ice on it. Some waded through it up to the knees and higher, but others went till they came to a beaver dam, and I amongst them, where, through the good providence of God, I did not wet my foot. I went along that day morning and lamenting, leaving farther my own country, and travelling farther into the vast and howling wilderness, and I understood something of Lot’s wife’s temptation when she looked back. We came that day to u great swamp, by the side of which we took up our lodging that night. When we came to the brow of the hill that looked toward the swamp, I thought we had been come to a great Indian town, though there were none but our own company; the Indians were as thick as the trees; it seemed as if there had been a thousand hatchets going at once. If one looked before one there was nothing but Indians, and behind one nothing but Indians; and so on either hand; and I myself in the midst, and no Christian soul near me, and yet how hath the Lord preserved me in safety! Oh the experience that I have had of the goodness of God to me and mine!
The Seventh Remove
After a restless and hungry night there, we had a wearisome time of it the next day. The swamp by which we lay was as it were a deep dungeon, and an exceeding high and steep hill before it. Before I got to the top of the hill, I thought my heart and legs and all would have broken and failed me. What through faintness and soreness of body, it was a grievous day of travel to me. As we went along, I saw a place where English cattle had been. That was a comfort to me, such as it was. Quickly after that we came to an English path, which so took me that I thought I could there have freely lain down and died. That day, a little after noon, we came to Squaheag, ((Or Squakeag, now Northfield.)) where the Indians quickly spread themselves over the deserted English fields, gleaning what they could find. Some picked up ears of wheat that were crickled down, some found ears of Indian corn, some found ground-nuts, and others sheaves of wheat that were frozen together in the shock, and went to threshing of them out. Myself got two ears of Indian corn, and whilst I did but turn my back, one of them was stole from me, which much troubled me. There came an Indian to them at that time, with a basket of horse-liver. I asked him to give me a piece. “What,” says he, “can you eat horse-liver?” I told him I would try, if he would give me a piece, which he did; and I laid it on the coals to roast; but before it was half ready, they got half of it away from me; so that I was forced to take the rest and eat it as it was, with the blood about my mouth, and yet a savory bit it was to me; for to the hungry soul every bitter thing was sweet. A solemn sight me thought it was, to see whole fields of wheat and Indian corn forsaken and spoiled, and the remainder of them to be food for our merciless enemies. That night we had a mess of wheat for our supper.
The Eighth Remove
On the morrow morning we must go over Connecticut River, to meet with King Philip. Two canoes full they had carried over; the next turn myself was to go; but as my foot was upon the canoe to step in, there was a sudden outcry among them, and I must step back; and instead of going over the river, I must go four or five miles up the river farther northward. Some of the Indians ran one way, and some another. The cause of this rout was, as I thought, their espying some English scouts, who were thereabouts. In this travel up the river, about noon the company made a stop, and sat down, some to eat and others to rest them. As I sat amongst them, musing on things past, my son Joseph unexpectedly came to me. We asked of each other’s welfare, be-moaning our doleful condition, and the change that had come upon us. We had husband and father, and children and sisters, and friends and relations, and house and home, and many comforts of this life; but now we might say as Job, “Naked came I out of my mother’s womb, and naked shall I return. The Lord gave, and the Lord hath taken away; blessed be the name of the Lord.” I asked him whether he would read. He told me he earnestly desired it. I gave him my Bible, and he lighted upon that comfortable scripture, Psalm 118: 17, 18, “I shall not die, but live, and declare the works of the Lord. The Lord hath chastened me sore, yet he hath not given me over to death.” “Look here, mother,” says he, “did you read this?” And here I may take occasion to mention one principal ground of my setting forth these lines, even as the Psalmist says, to declare the works of the Lord, and his wonderful power in carrying us along, preserving us in the wilderness while under the enemy’s hand, and returning of us in safety again; and his goodness in bringing to my hand so many comfortable and suitable scriptures in my distress.
But to return. We travelled on till night, and in the morning we must go over the river to Philip’s crew. When I was in the canoe, I could not but be amazed at the numerous crew of Pagans that were on the bank on the other side. When I came ashore, they gathered all about me, I sitting alone in the midst. I observed they asked one another questions, and laughed, and rejoiced over their gains and victories. Then my heart began to fail, and I fell a weeping; which was the first time, to my remembrance, that I wept before them. Although I had met with so much affliction, and my heart was many times ready to break, yet could I not shed one tear in their sight, but rather had been all this while in a maze, and like one astonished; but now I may say as Psal. 137: 1, “By the rivers of Babylon, there we sat down, yea, we wept, when we remembered Zion.” There one of them asked me why I wept. I could hardly tell what to say; yet I answered, they would kill me. “No,” said he, “none will hurt you.” Then came one of them, and gave me two spoonfuls of meal, to comfort me, and another gave me half a pint of peas, which was worth more than many bushels at another time. Then I went to see King Philip. He bade me come in and sit down, and asked me whether I would smoke it a usual compliment now-a-days among the saints and sinners; but this no way suited me; for though I had formerly used tobacco, yet I had left it ever since I was first taken. It seems to be a bait the devil lays to make men lose their precious time. I remember with shame how formerly, when I had taken two or three pipes, I was presently ready for another, such a bewitching thing it is; but I thank God, he has now given me power over it. Surely there are many who may be better employed than to sit sucking a stinking tobacco-pipe.
Now the Indians gathered their forces to go against Northampton. Overnight one went about yelling and hooting to give notice of the design. Whereupon they went to boiling of ground-nuts and parching corn, as many as had it, for their provision; and in the morning away they went. During my abode in this place, Philip spake to me to make a shirt for his boy, which I did; for which he gave me a shilling I offered the money to my mistress, but she bid me keep it, and with it I bought a piece of horse-flesh. Afterward he asked” me to make a cap for his boy, for which he invited me to dinner. I went, and he gave me a pancake about as big as two fingers; it was made of parched wheat, beaten and fried in bear’s grease, but I thought I never tasted pleasanter meat in my life. There was a squaw who spake to me to make a shirt for her Sannup; for which she gave me a piece of beef. Another asked me to knit a pair of stockings, for which she gave me a quart of peas. I boiled my peas and beef together, and invited my master and mistress to dinner; but the proud gossip, because I served them both in one dish, would eat nothing, except one bit that he gave her upon the point of his knife. Hearing that my son was come to this place, I went to see him, and found him lying flat on the ground. I asked him how he could sleep so. He answered me that he was not asleep, but at prayer, and that he lay so that they might not observe what he was doing. I pray God he may remember these things now he is returned in safety. At this place, the sun now getting higher, what with the beams and heat of the sun and smoke of the wigwams, I thought I should have been blinded. I could scarce discern one wigwam from another. There was one Mary Thurston, of Medfield, who, seeing how it was with me, lent me a hat to wear; but as soon as I was gone, the squaw that owned that Mary Thurston came running after me, and got it away again. Here was a squaw who gave me a spoonful of meal; I put it in my pocket to keep it safe, yet notwithstanding somebody stole it, but put five Indian corns in the room of it; which corns were the greatest provision I had in my travel for one day.
The Indians returning from Northampton ((Northampton was attacked March 14, 1676.)) brought with them some horses, and sheep, and other things which they had taken. I desired them that they would carry me to Albany upon one of those horses, and sell me for powder; for so they had sometimes discoursed. I was utterly helpless of getting home on foot, the way that I came. I could hardly bear to think of the many weary steps I had taken to this place.
The Ninth Remove
But instead of either going to Albany or homeward, we must go five miles up the river, and then go over it. Here we abode a while. Here lived a sorry Indian, who spake to me to make him a shirt; when I had done it he would pay me nothing for it. But he living by the river-side, where I often went to fetch water, I would often be putting him in mind, and calling for my pay; at last he told me, if I would make another shirt for a papoose not yet born, he would give me a knife, which he did when I had done it. I carried the knife in, and my master asked me to give it him, and I was not a little glad that I had anything that they would accept of and be pleased with. When we were at this place, my master’s maid came home: she had been gone three weeks into the Narragansett country to fetch corn, where they had stored up some in the ground. She brought home about a peck and a half of corn. This was about the time that their great captain, Naonanto ((Nanuntennoo. He was taken April 6th, 1676. See Book of the Indians, Book iii. 49, 50. Ed.)) was killed in the Narragansett country.
My son being now about a mile from me, I asked liberty to go and see him. They bid me go, and away I went; but quickly lost myself, travelling over hills and through swamps, and could not find the way to him. And I cannot but admire at the wonderful power and goodness of God to me, in that though I was gone from home and met with all sorts of Indians, and those I had no knowledge of, and there being no Christian soul near me, yet not one of them offered the least imaginable miscarriage to me. I turned homeward again, and met with my master, and he showed me the way to my son. When I came to him, I found him not well; and withal he had a boil on his side which much troubled him. We bemoaned one another a while, as the Lord helped us, and then I returned again. When I was returned, I found myself as unsatisfied as I was before. I went up and down mourning and lamenting, and my spirit was ready to sink with the thoughts of my poor children. My son was ill, and I could not but think of his mournful looks, having no Christian friend near him, to do any office of love to him, either for soul or body. And my poor girl, I knew not where she was, nor whether she was sick or well, alive or dead. I repaired under these thoughts to my Bible, (my great comforter in that time,) and that scripture came to my hand, “Cast thy burden upon, the Lord, and he shall sustain thee.” Psal. 55: 22.
But I was fain to go look after something to satisfy my hunger; and going among the wigwams, I went into one, and there found a squaw who showed herself very kind to me, and gave me a piece of bear. I put it into my pocket and came home; but could not find an opportunity to broil it, for fear they should get it from me. And there it lay all the day and night in my stinking pocket. In the morning, I went again to the same squaw, who had a kettle of ground-nuts boiling. I asked her to let me boil my piece of bear in the kettle, which she did, and gave me some ground-nuts to eat with it; and I cannot but think how pleasant it was to me. I have sometimes seen bear baked handsomely amongst the English, and some liked it, but the thoughts that it was bear made me tremble. But now, that was savory to me that one would think was enough to turn the stomach of a brute creature.
One bitter cold day, I could find no room to sit down before the fire. I went out, and could not tell what to do, but I went into another wigwam, where they were also sitting round the fire; but the squaw laid a skin for me, and bid me sit down, and gave me some ground-nuts, and bid me come again, and told me they would buy me if they were able. And yet these were strangers to me that I never knew before.
The Tenth Remove
That day a small part of the company removed about three quarters of a mile, intending farther the next day. When they came to the place they intended to lodge, and had pitched their wigwams, being hungry, I went again back to the place we were before at, to get something to eat; being encouraged by the squaw’s kindness, who bid me come again. When I was there, there came an Indian to look after me; who, when he had found me, kicked me all along. I went home and found venison roasting that night, but they would not give me one bit of it. Sometimes I met with favor, and sometimes with nothing but frowns.
The Eleventh Remove
The next day in the morning, they took their travel, intending a day’s journey up the river , I took my load at my back, and quickly we came to wade over a river, and passed over tiresome and wearisome hills. One hill was so steep, that I was fain to creep up upon my knees, and to hold by the twigs and bushes to keep myself from falling backward. My head also was so light that I usually reeled as I went. But I hope all those wearisome steps that I have taken are but a forwarding of me to the heavenly rest. “I know, O Lord, that thy judgments are right, and that thou in faithfulness hath afflicted me” Psalm 119: 75.
The Twelfth Remove
It was upon a Sabbath-day morning that they prepared for their travel. This morning I asked my master whether he would sell me to my husband; he answered, nux; which did much rejoice my spirits. My mistress, before we went, was gone to the burial of a papoose and returning, she found me sitting and reading in my Bible. She snatched it hastily out of my hand and threw it out of doors. I ran out and caught it up, and put it in my pocket, and never let her see it afterwards. Then they packed up their things to be gone, and gave me my load; I complained it was too heavy, whereupon she gave me a slap on the face and bid me be gone. I lifted up my heart to God, hoping that redemption was not far off; and the rather because their insolence grew worse and worse.
But thoughts of my going homeward, for so we bent our course, much cheered my spirit, and made my burden seem light, and almost nothing at all. But, to my amazement and great perplexity, the scale was soon turned; for when we had got a little way, on a sudden my mistress gave out she would go no further, but turn back again, and said I must go back again with her; and she called her sannup and would have had him go back also, but he would not, but said he would go on, and come to us again in three days. My spirit was upon this, I confess, very impatient, and almost outrageous. I thought I could as well have died as went back. I cannot declare the trouble that I was in about it; back again I must go. As soon as I had an opportunity, I took my Bible to read, and that quieting scripture came to my hand, Psalm 46: 10, “Be still, and know that I am God;” which stilled my spirit for the present; but a sore time of trial I concluded I had to go through; my master being gone, who seemed to me the best friend I had of an Indian, both in cold and hunger, and quickly so it proved. Down I sat, with my heart as full as it could hold, and yet so hungry that I could not sit neither. But going out to see what I could find, and walking among the trees, I found six acorns and two chestnuts, which were some refreshment to me. Towards night I gathered me some sticks for my own comfort, that I might not lie cold; but when we came to lie down, they bid me go out and lie somewhere else, for they had company, they said come in more than their own. I told them I could not tell where to go; they bid me go look; I told them if I went to another wigwam they would be angry and send me home again. Then one of the company drew his sword and told me he would run me through if I did not go presently. Then was I fain to stoop to this rude fellow, and go out in the night I knew not whither. Mine eyes hath seen that fellow afterwards walking up and down in Boston, under the appearance of a friendly Indian, and several others of the like cut. I went to one wigwam, and they told me they had no room. Then I went to another, and they said the same. At last, an old Indian bid me come to him, and his squaw gave me some ground-nuts; she gave me also something to lay under my head, and a good fire we had; through the good providence of God, I had a comfortable lodging that night. In the morning, another Indian bid me come at night and he would give me six ground-nuts, which I did. We were at this place and time about two miles from Connecticut River. We went in the morning, to gather ground-nuts, to the river, and went back again at night. I went with a great load at my back, for they when they went, though but a little way, would carry all their trumpery with them. I told them the skin was off my back, but I had no other comforting answer from them than this, that, would be no matter if my head was off too.
The Thirteenth Remove
Instead of going towards the day, which was what I desired, I must go with them five or six miles down the river, into a mighty thicket of brush; where we abode almost a fortnight. Here one asked me to make a shirt for her papoose, for which she gave me a mess of broth, which was thickened with meal made of the bark of a tree; and to make it better she had put into it about a handful of peas, and a few roasted ground-nuts. I had not seen my son a pretty while, and here was an Indian of whom I made enquiry after him, and asked him when he saw him. He answered me, that such a time his master roasted him, and that himself did eat a piece of him as big as his two fingers, and that he was very good meat. But the Lord upheld my spirit under this discouragement; and I considered their horrible addictedness to lying, and that there is not one of them that makes the least conscience of speaking the truth.
In this place, one cold night, as I lay by the fire, I removed a stick which kept the heat from me; a squaw moved it down again, at which I looked up, and she threw an handful of ashes in my eyes; I thought I should have been quite ‘blinded and never have seen more; but, lying down, the water ran out of my eyes, and carried the dirt with it, that by the morning I recovered my sight again. Yet upon this, and the like occasions, I hope it is not too much to say with Job, “Have pity upon me, have pity upon me, O ye my friends, for the hand of the LORD has touched me.” And here, I cannot but remember how many times, sitting in their wigwams, and musing on things past, I should suddenly leap up and run out, as if I had been at home, forgetting where I was, and what my condition was; but when I was without, and saw nothing but wilderness and woods, and a company of barbarous heathen, my mind quickly returned to me, which made me think of that spoken concerning Samson, who said, “I will go out and shake myself as at other times, but he wist not that the Lord was departed from him.”
About this time I began to think that all my hopes of restoration would come to nothing. I thought of the English army, and hoped for their coming, and being retaken by them, but that failed. I hoped to be carried to Albany, as the Indians had discoursed, but that failed also. I thought of being sold to my husband, as my master spake; but instead of that, my master himself was gone, and I left behind, so that my spirit was now quite ready to sink. I asked them to let me go out and pick up some sticks, that I might get alone, and pour out my heart unto the Lord. Then also I took my Bible to read, but I found no comfort here neither; yet, I can say in all my sorrows and afflictions, God did not leave me to have any impatient work toward himself, as if his ways were unrighteous; but I knew that he laid upon me less than I deserved. Afterward, before this doleful time ended with me, I was turning the leaves of my Bible, and the Lord brought to me some scripture which did a little revive me; as that, Isa. 55: 8, “For my thoughts are not your thoughts, neither are my ways your ways, saith the Lord” And also that, Psalm 37: 5, “Commit thy ways unto the Lord, trust also in him, and he shall bring it to pass.”
About this time, they came yelping from Hadley, ((In the beginning of April, a number of the inhabitants of Hadley having ventured out some distance from the guard, for the purpose of tillage, were attacked by the Indians, and three of them killed.)) having there killed three Englishmen, and brought one captive with them, viz. Thomas Reed. They all gathered about the poor man, asking him many questions. I desired also to go and see him; and when I came, he was crying bitterly, supposing they would quickly kill him. Whereupon I asked one of them whether they intended to kill him; he answered me they would not. He being a little cheered with that, I asked him about the welfare of my husband; he told me he saw him such a time in the Bay, and he was well, but very melancholy. By which I certainly understood, though I suspected it before, that whatsoever the Indians told me respecting him was vanity and lies. Some of them told me he was dead, and they had killed him; some said he was married again, and that the governor wished him to marry, and told him that he should have his choice; and that all persuaded him that I was dead. So like were these barbarous creatures to him who was a liar from the beginning.
As I was sitting once in the wigwam here, Philip’s maid came with the child in her arms, and asked me to give her a piece of my apron to make a flap for it. I told her I would not; then my mistress bid me give it, but I still said no; the maid told me if I would not give her a piece, she would tear a piece off it. I told her I would tear her coat then: with that my mistress rises up, and takes up a stick big enough to have killed me, and struck at me with it, but I slept out, and she struck the stick into the mat of the wigwam. But while she was pulling it out, I ran to the maid, and gave her all my apron; and so that storm went over.
Hearing that my son was come to this place, I went to see him, and told him his father was well, but very melancholy. He told me he was as much grieved for his father as for himself. I wondered at his speech, for I thought I had enough upon my spirit, in reference to myself, to make me mindless of my husband and everyone else, they being safe among their friends. He told me also, that a while before, his master, together with other Indians, were going to the French for powder; but by the way the Mohawks met with them, and killed four of their company, which made the rest turn back again; for which I desire that myself and he may ever bless the Lord; for it might have been worse with him had he been sold to the French, than it proved to be in his remaining with the Indians
I went to see an English youth in this place, one John Gilbert, of Springfield. I found him laying without doors upon the ground. Tasked him how he did; he told me he was very sick of a flux with eating so much blood. They had turned him out of the wigwam, and with him an Indian papoose, almost dead, (whose parents had been killed,) in a bitter cold day, without fire or clothes; the young man himself had nothing on but his shirt and waistcoat. This sight was enough to melt a heart of flint. There they lay quivering in the cold, the youth round like a dog, the papoose stretched out, with his eyes, nose, and mouth full of dirt, and yet alive, and groaning. I advised John to go and get to some fire; he told me he could not stand, but I persuaded him still, lest he should lie there and die. And with much ado I got him to a fire, and went myself home. As soon as I was got home, his master’s daughter came after me, to know what I had done with the Englishman; I told her I had got him to a fire in such a place. Now had I need to pray Paul’s prayer, 2 Thess. 3: 2, “that we may be delivered from unreasonable and wicked men.” For her satisfaction I went along with her, and brought her to him; but before I got home again, it was noised about that I was running away, and getting the English youth along with me, that as soon as I came in, they began to rant and domineer, asking me where I had been, and what I had been doing, and saying they would knock me on the head. I told them I had been seeing the English youth, and that I would not run away. They told me I lied and getting up a hatchet, they came to me and said they would knock me down if I stirred out again; and so confined me to the wigwam. Now may I say with David, 2 Sam. 24: 14, “I am in a great strait.” If I keep in, I must die with hunger; and if I go out, I must be knocked on the head. This distressed condition held that day, and half the next; and then the Lord remembered me, whose mercies are great. Then came an Indian to me with a pair of stockings which were too big for him, and he would have me ravel them out, and knit them fit for him. I showed myself willing, and bid him ask my mistress if I might go along with him a little way. She said yes, I might; but I was not a little refreshed with that news, that I had my liberty again. Then I went along with him, and he gave me some roasted ground, nuts, which did again revive my feeble stomach.
Being got out of her sight, I had time and liberty again to look into my Bible, which was my guide by day and my pillow by night. Now that comfortable scripture presented itself to me, Isa. 45: 7, “For a small moment have I forsaken thee, but with great mercies will I gather thee.” Thus the Lord carried me along from one time to another, and made good to me this precious promise and many others. Then my son came to see me, and I asked his master to let him stay a while with me, that I might comb his head and look over him, for he was almost overcome with lice. He told me when I had done that he was very hungry, but I had nothing to relieve him, but bid him go into the wigwams as he went along, and see if he could get anything among them; which he did, and, it seems, tarried a little too long, for his master was angry with him, and beat him, and then sold him. Then he came running to tell me he had a new master, and that he had given him some ground-nuts already. Then I went along with him to his new master, who told me he loved him, and he should not want. So his master carried him away; and I never saw him afterward, till I saw him at Piscataqua, in Portsmouth.
That night they bid me go out of the wigwam again; my mistress’s papoose was sick, and it died that night; and there was one benefit in it, that there was more room. I went to a wigwam and they bid me come in, and gave me a skin to lie upon, and a mess of venison and ground-nuts, which was a choice dish among them. On the morrow they buried the papoose; and afterward, both morning and evening, there came a company to mourn and howl with her; though I confess I could not much condole with them. Many sorrowful days I had in this place; often getting alone, “like a crane or a swallow, so did I chatter; I did mourn as a dove; mine eyes fail with looking upward. O Lord, I am oppressed, undertake for me” Isa. 38: 14. I could tell the Lord as Hezekiah, ver. 3, “Remember now, O Lord, I beseech thee, how I have walked before thee in truth” Now had I time to examine all my ways. My conscience did not accuse me of unrighteousness towards one or another; yet I saw how in my walk with God I had been a careless creature. As David said, “against thee only have I sinned.” And I might say with the poor publican, “God be merciful unto me a sinner.” Upon the Sabbath days I could look upon the sun, and think how people were going to the house of God to have their souls refreshed, and then home and their bodies also; but I was destitute of both, and might say as the poor prodigal, “He would fain have filled his belly with the husks that the swine did eat, and no man gave unto him.” Luke 15: 16. For I must say with him, “Father, I have sinned against heaven and in thy sight.” Ver. 21. I remember how on the night before and after the Sabbath, when my family was about me, and relations and neighbors with us, we could pray, and sing, and refresh our bodies with the good creatures of God, and then have a comfortable bed to lie down on; but instead of all this, I had only a little swill for the body, and then, like a swine, must lie down on the ground. I cannot express to man the sorrow that lay upon my spirit, the Lord knows it. Yet that comfortable scripture would often come to my mind, “For a small moment have I forsaken thee, but with great mercies will I gather thee.”
The Fourteenth Remove
Now must we pack up and be gone from this thicket, bending our course towards the Bay towns; I having nothing to eat by the way this day but a few crumbs of cake that an Indian gave my girl the same day we were taken. She gave it me, and I put it in my pocket. There it lay, till it was so moldy, for want of good baking, that one could not tell what it was made of; it fell all into crumbs, and grew so dry and hard that it was like little flints; and this refreshed me many times when I was ready to faint. It was in my thoughts when I put it to my mouth, that if ever I returned I would tell the world what a blessing the Lord gave to such mean food. As we went along, they killed a deer, with a young one in her. They gave me a piece of the fawn, and it was so young and tender that one might eat the bones as well as the flesh, and yet I thought it very good. When night came on we sat down. It rained, but they quickly got up a bark wigwam, where I lay dry that night. I looked out in the morning, and many of them had lain in the rain all night, I knew by their reeking. Thus the Lord dealt mercifully with me many times, and I fared better than many of them. In the morning they took the blood of the deer, and put it into the paunch, and so boiled it. I could eat nothing of that, though they eat it sweetly. And yet they were so nice in other things, that when I had fetched water, and had put the dish I dipped the water with into the kettle of water which I brought, they would say they would knock me down, for they said it was a sluttish trick.
The Fifteenth Remove
We went on our travel. I having got a handful of ground-nuts for my support that day, they gave me my load, and I went on cheerfully, with the thoughts of going homeward, having my burthen more upon my back than my spirit We came to Baquaug River again that day, near which we abode a few days. Sometimes one of them would give me a pipe, another a little tobacco, another a little salt, which I would change for victuals. I cannot but think what a wolfish appetite persons have in a starving condition; for many times, when they gave me that which was hot, I was so greedy, that I should burn my mouth, that it would trouble me many hours after, and yet I should quickly do the like again. And after I was thoroughly hungry, I was never again satisfied; for though it sometimes fell out that I had got enough, and did eat till I could eat no more, yet I was as, unsatisfied as I was when I began. And now could I see that scripture verified, there being many scriptures that we do not take notice of or understand till we are afflicted, Mic. 6: 14, “Thou shalt eat and not be satisfied.” Now might I see more than ever before the miseries that sin hath brought upon us. Many times I should be ready to run out against the heathen, but that scripture would quiet me again, Amos 3: 6, “Shall there be evil in the city, and the Lord hath not done it 9 “The Lord help me to make a right improvement of his word, that I might learn that great lesson, Mic. 6: 8, 9, ” He hath showed thee, O man, what is good; and what doth the Lord require of thee, but to do justly and love mercy, and walk humbly with thy God? Hear ye the rod, and who hath appointed it.”
The Sixteenth Remove
We began this remove with wading over Baquaug River. The water was up to our knees, and the stream very swift and so cold that I thought it would have cut me in sunder. I was so weak and feeble that I reeled as I went along, and thought there I must end my days at last, after my bearing and getting through so many difficulties. The Indians stood laughing to see me staggering along, but in ay distress the Lord gave me experience of the truth and goodness of that promise, Isa. 43: 2, ”When thou passeth through the water I will be with thee, and through the rivers, they shall not overflow thee.” Then I sat down to put on my stockings and shoes, with the tears running down my eyes, and many sorrowful thoughts in my heart. But I got up to go along with them. Quickly there came up to us an Indian who informed them that I must go to Wachuset ((Princeton. The mountain in this town still retains the name of Wachuset, notwithstanding a recent attempt to change it to Mount Adams. [I venerate the name of Adams, but I must protest against the heathen like practice of destroying the old names of places. The interior of New York deserves to be chastised by an earthquake for such libelous conduct. Ed.])) to my master, for there was a letter come from the council to the Sagamores about redeeming the captives, and that there would be another in fourteen days, and that I must be there ready. My heart was so heavy before that I could scarce speak or go in the path, and yet now so light that I could run. My strength seemed to come again, and to recruit my feeble knees and aching heart; yet it pleased them to go but one mile that night and there we staid two days. In that time came a company of Indians to us, near thirty, all on horseback. My heart skipped within me, thinking they had been Englishmen, at the first sight of them; for they were dressed in English apparel, with hats, white neck cloths, and sashes about their waists, and ribbons upon their shoulders. But when they came near there was a vast difference between the lovely faces of Christians and the foul looks of those heathen, which much damped my spirits again.
The Seventeenth Remove
A comfortable remove it was to me, because of my hopes. They gave me my pack and along we went cheerfully. But quickly my will proved more than my strength; having little or no refreshment, my strength failed, and my spirits were almost quite gone. Now may I say as David, Psal. 109: 22, 23, 24, “I am poor and needy, and my heart is wounded within me. I am gone like a shadow when it declineth. I am tossed up and down like the locust. My knees are weak through fasting, and my flesh faileth of fatness.” At night we came to an Indian town, and the Indians sat down by a wigwam discoursing, but I was almost spent and could scarce speak. I laid down my load and went into the wigwam, and there sat an Indian boiling of horse-feet, they being wont to eat the flesh first, and when the feet were old and dried, and they had nothing else, they would cut off the feet and use them. I asked him to give me a little of his broth, or water they were boiling it in. He took a dish and gave me one spoonful of sump, and bid me take as much of the broth as I would. Then I put some of the hot water to the sump, and drank it up, and my spirits came again. He gave me also a piece of the ruffe, or ridding of the small guts, and I broiled it on the coals; and now I may say with Jonathan, “See, I pray you, how mine eyes are enlightened because I tasted a little of this honey” 1 Sam. 14: 20. Now is my spirit revived again. Though means he never so inconsiderable, yet if the Lord bestow his blessing upon them, they shall refresh both soul and body.
The Eighteenth Remove
We took up our packs, and along we went; but a wearisome day I had of it. As we went along, I saw an Englishman stripped naked and lying dead upon the ground, but knew not who he was. Then we came to another Indian town, where we staid all night. In his town there were four English children captives, and one of them my own sister’s. I went to see how she did, and she was well, considering her captive condition. I would have tarried that night with her, but they that owned her would not suffer it. Then I went to another wigwam, where they were boiling corn and beans, which was a lovely sight to see, but I could not get a taste thereof. Then I went into another wigwam, where there were two of the English children. The squaw was boiling horses’ feet. She cut me off a little piece, and gave one of the English children a piece also. Being very hungry, I had quickly eat up mine; but the child could not bite it, it was so tough and sinewy, and lay sucking, gnawing, and slobbering of it in the mouth and hand; then I took it of the child, and eat it myself, and savory it was to my taste: that I may say as Job, chap. 6: 7, “The things that my soul refuseth to touch are as my sorrowful meat.” Thus the Lord made that pleasant and refreshing which another time would have been an abomination. Then I went home to my mistress’ wigwam, and they told me I disgraced my master with begging, and if I did so any more they would knock me on the head. I told them they had as good do that as starve me to death.
The Nineteenth Remove
They said when we went out that we must travel to Wachuset this day. But a bitter weary day I had of it, travelling now three days together, without resting any day between. At last, after many weary steps, I saw Wachuset hills, but many miles off. Then we came to a great swamp, through which we travelled up to our knees in mud and water, which was heavy going to one tired before. Being almost spent, I thought I should have sunk down at last, and never got out; but I may say as in Psalm 94: 18, “When my foot slipped, thy mercy, O Lord, held me up,” Going along, having indeed my life, but little spirit, Philip, who was in the company, came up, and took me by the hand, and said, “Two weeks more and you shall be mistress again.” I asked him if he spoke true. He said, “Yes, and quickly you shall come to your master again;” who had been gone from us three weeks. After many weary steps, we came to Wachuset, where he was, and glad was I to see him. He asked me when I washed me. I told him not this month. Then he fetched me some water himself, and bid me wash, and gave me a glass to see how I looked, and bid his squaw give me something to eat. So she gave me a mess of beans and meat, and a little ground-nut cake. I was wonderfully revived with this favor showed me. Psalm 106: 46, “He made them also to be pitied of all those that carried them away captive”
My master had three squaws, living sometimes with one and sometimes with another: Onux, this old squaw at whose wigwam I was, and with whom my master had been these three weeks. Another was Wettimore, ((She had been the wife of Alexander, Philip’s elder brother. See Book of the Indians.)) with whom I had lived and served all this while. A severe and proud dame she was, bestowing every day in dressing herself near as much time as any of the gentry of the land; powdering her hair and painting her face, going with her necklaces, with jewels in her ears, and bracelets upon her hands. When she had dressed herself, her work was to make girdles of wampum and beads. The third squaw was a younger one, by whom he had two papooses. By that time I was refreshed by the old squaw, Wettimore’s maid came to call me home, at which I fell a weeping. Then the old squaw told me, to encourage me, that when I wanted victuals I should come to her, and that I should lie in her wigwam. Then I went with the maid, and quickly I came back and lodged there. The squaw laid a mat under me, and a good rug over me; the first time that I had any such kindness showed me. I understood that Wettimore thought, that if she should let me go and serve with the old squaw, she should be in danger to lose not only my service, but the redemption pay also. And I was not a little glad to hear this; being by it raised in my hopes that in God’s due time there would be an end of this sorrowful hour. Then came an Indian and asked me to knit him three pair of stockings, for which I had a hat and a silk handkerchief. Then another asked me to make her a shift, for which she gave me an apron.
Then came Tom and Peter with the second letter from the council, about the captives. Though they were Indians, I got them by the hand, and burst out into tears; my heart was so full that I could not speak to them; but recovering myself, I asked them how my husband did, and all my friends and acquaintance. They said they were well, but very melancholy. They brought me two biscuits and a pound of tobacco. The tobacco I soon gave away. When it was all gone one asked me to give him a pipe of tobacco. I told him it was all gone. Then he began to rant and threaten. I told him when my husband came I would give him some. “Hang him, rogue,” says he; “I will knock out his brains if he comes here.” And then again at the same breath they would say that if there should come an hundred without guns they would do them no hurt; so unstable and like madmen they were. So that fearing the worst, I durst not send to my husband, though there were some thoughts of his coming to redeem and fetch me, not knowing what might follow; for there was little more trust to them than to the master they served. When the letter was come, the Sagamores met to consult about the captives, and called me to them, to inquire how much my husband would give to redeem me. When I came I sat down among them, as I was wont to do, as their manner is. Then they bid me stand up, and said they were the general court. They bid me speak what I thought he would give. Now knowing that all that we had was destroyed by the Indians, I was in a great strait. I thought if I should speak of but a little, it would be slighted and hinder the matter; if of a great sum, I knew not where it would be procured; yet at a venture I said twenty pounds, yet desired them to take less; but they would not hear of that, but sent the message to Boston, that for twenty pounds I should be redeemed. It was a praying Indian that wrote their letters for them. ((They may be seen in the Book of the Indians.)) There was another praying Indian who told me that he had a brother that would not eat horse, his conscience was so tender and scrupulous, though as large as hell for the destruction of poor Christians. Then he said he read that scripture to him, 2 Kings 6: 25, “There was a famine in Samaria, and behold they besieged it, until an ass’s head was sold for fourscore pieces of silver, and the fourth part of a kab of dove’s dung for five pieces of silver.” He expounded this place to his brother, and showed him that it was lawful to eat that in a famine which it is not at another time. “And now,” says he, “he will eat horse with any Indian of them all.” There was another praying Indian. ((Peter Jethro. Ib.)) who, when he had done all the mischief that he could, betrayed his own father into the English’s hands, thereby to purchase his own life. Another praying Indian was at Sudbury fight, though, as he deserved, he was afterwards hanged for it. There was another praying Indian so wicked and cruel as to wear a string about his neck strung with Christian ringers. Another praying Indian, when they went to Sudbury fight, went with them, and his squaw also with him, with her papoose at her back. ((These remarks of Mrs. Rowlandson are no doubt just. The praying Indians, after all, take them as a class, made but sorry Christians. More comfortable dwellings, a few blankets every year, some small privileges, and a little increase, for the time, of personal consideration, were motives sufficiently strong to induce savages to change their religious faith, which at best hung but very loosely about them.)) Before they went to that fight, they got a company together to pow wow. The manner was as followeth.
There was one that kneeled upon a deer-skin, with the company around him in a ring, who kneeled, striking upon the ground with their hands and with sticks, and muttering or humming with their mouths. Besides him who kneeled in the ring there also stood one with a gun in his hand. Then he on the deer-skin made a speech, and all manifested assent to it; and so they did many times together. Then they bid him with a gun go out of the ring, which he did; but when he was out, they called him in again; but he seemed to make a stand. Then they called the more earnestly, till he turned again. Then they all sang. Then they gave him two guns, in each hand one. And so he on the deer-skin began again; and at the end of every sentence in his speaking they all assented, and humming or muttering with their mouths, and striking upon the ground with their hands. Then they bid him with the two guns go out of the ring again; which he did a little way. Then they called him again, but he made a stand, so they called him with greater earnestness; but he stood reeling and wavering, as if he knew not whether he should stand or fall, or which way to go. Then they called him with exceeding great vehemency, all of them, one and another. After a little while he turned in, staggering as he went, with his arms stretched out, in each hand a gun. As soon as he came in, they all sang and rejoiced exceedingly a while, and then he upon the deer-skin made another speech, unto which they all assented in a rejoicing manner; and so they ended their business, and forthwith went to Sudbury fight.3
To my thinking, they went without any scruple but that they should prosper and gain the victory. And they went out not so rejoicing, but they came home with as great a victory; for they said they killed two captains and almost an hundred men. One Englishman they brought alive with them, and he said it was too true, for they had made sad work at Sudbury; as indeed it proved. Yet they came home without that rejoicing and triumphing over their victory which they were wont to show at other times; but rather like dogs, as they say, which have lost their ears. Yet I could not perceive that it was for their own loss of men; they said they lost not above five or six; and I missed none, except in one wigwam. When they went they acted as if the devil had told them that they should gain the victory, and now they acted as if the devil had told them they should have a fall. Whether it were so or no, I cannot tell, but so it proved; for they quickly began to fall, and so held on that summer, till they came to utter ruin. They came home on a Sabbath day, and the pawaw that kneeled upon the deer-skin came home, I may say without any abuse, as black as the devil. When my master came home he came to me and bid me make a shirt for his papoose, of a Holland laced pillowbeer.
About that time there came an Indian to me, and bid me come to his wigwam at night, and he would give me some pork and ground-nuts, which I did; and as I was eating, another Indian said to me, “He seems to be your good friend, but he killed two Englishmen at Sudbury, and there lie the clothes behind you.” I looked behind me, and there I saw bloody clothes, with bullet-holes in them; yet the Lord suffered not this wretch to do me any hurt, yea, instead of that, he many times refreshed me: five or six times did he and his squaw refresh my feeble carcass. If I went to their wigwam at any time, they would always give me something, and yet they were strangers that I never saw before. Another squaw gave me a piece of fresh pork, and a little salt with it, and lent me her frying pan to fry it; and I cannot but remember what a sweet, pleasant and delightful relish that bit had to me, to this day. So little do we prize common mercies, when we have them to the full.
The Twentieth Remove
It was their usual manner to remove when they had done any mischief, lest they should be found out; and so they did at this time. We went about three or four miles, and there they built a great wigwam, big enough to hold an hundred Indians, which they did in preparation to a great day of dancing. They would now say among themselves that the governor ((Leverett.)) would be so angry for his loss at Sudbury that he would send no more about the captives, which made me grieve and tremble. My sister ((Mrs. Drew.)) being not far from this place, and hearing that I was here, desired her master to let her come and see me, and he was willing to it, and would come with her; but she, being ready first, told him she would go before, and was come within a mile or two of the place. Then he overtook her, and began to rant as if he had been mad, and made her go back again in the rain; so that I never saw her till I saw her in Charlestown. But the Lord requited many of their ill doings, for this Indian, her master, was hanged afterwards at Boston. ((Mrs. Drew’s master was probably Monoco. Several chiefs were hanged at the same time, viz. 26th Sept. 1676.)) They began now to come from all quarters, against their merry dancing day. Amongst some of them came one goodwife Kettle. I told her my heart was so heavy that it was ready to break. “So is mine too,” said she, “but yet I hope we shall hear some good news shortly.” I could hear how earnestly my sister desired to see me, and I earnestly desired to see her; yet neither of us could get an opportunity. My daughter was now but a mile off, and I had not seen her for nine or ten weeks, as I had not seen my sister since our first taking. I desired them to let me go and see them, yea I entreated, begged and persuaded them to let me see my daughter; and yet so hard-hearted were they that they would not suffer it. They made use of their tyrannical power whilst they had it, but through the Lord’s wonderful mercy their time was now but short.
On a Sabbath day, the sun being about an hour high in the afternoon, came Mr. John Hoar, (the council permitting him, and his own forward spirit inclining him,) together with the two fore mentioned Indians, Tom and Peter, with the third letter from the council. When they came near, I was abroad.
They presently called me in, and bid me sit down and not stir. Then they catched up their guns and away they ran, as if an enemy had been at hand, and the guns went off apace. I manifested some great trouble, and asked them what was the matter. I told them I thought they had killed the Englishman, (for they had in the mean time told me that an Englishman was come;) they said no; they shot over his horse, and under, and before his horse, and they pushed him this way and that way, at their pleasure, showing him what they could do. Then they let him come to their wigwams. I begged of them to let me see the Englishman, but they would not; but there was I fain to sit their pleasure. When they had talked their fill with him, they suffered me to go to him. We asked each other of our welfare, and how my husband did, and all my friends. He told me they were all well, and would be glad to see me. Among other things which my husband sent me, there came a pound of tobacco, which I sold for nine shillings in money; for many of them for want of tobacco smoked hemlock and ground-ivy. It was a great mistake in any who thought I sent for tobacco, for through the favor of God that desire was overcome.
I now asked them whether I should go home with Mr. Hoar. They answered no, one and another of them, and it being late, we lay down with that answer. In the morning Mr. Hoar invited the Sagamores to dinner; but when we went to get it ready, we found they had stolen the greatest part of the provisions Mr. Hoar had brought. And we may see the wonderful power of God, in that one passage, in that when there was such a number of them together, and so greedy of a little good food, and no English there but Mr. Hoar and myself, that there they did not knock us on the head and take what we had; there being not only some provision, but also trading cloth, a part of the twenty pounds agreed upon. But instead of doing us any mischief, they seemed to be ashamed of the fact, and said it was the matchit ((Wicked.)) Indians that did it. Oh that we could believe that there was nothing too hard for God. God showed his power over the heathen in this, as he did over the hungry lions when Daniel was cast into the den.
Mr. Hoar called them betime to dinner, but they ate but little, they being so busy in dressing themselves and getting ready for their dance; which was carried on by eight of them, four men and four squaws, my master and mistress being two. He was dressed in his Holland shirt, with great stockings, his garters hung round with shillings, and had girdles of wampom upon his head and shoulders. She had a kersey coat, covered with girdles of wampum from the loins upward. Her arms from her elbows to her hands were covered with bracelets; there were handfuls of necklaces about her neck, and several sorts of jewels in her ears. She had fine red stockings, and white shoes, her hair powdered, and her face painted red, that was always before black. And all the dancers were after the same manner. There were two others singing and knocking on a kettle for their music. They kept hopping up and down one after another, with a kettle of water in the midst, standing warm upon some embers, to drink of when they were dry. They held on till almost night, throwing out their wampum to the standers by. At night I asked them again if I should go home. They all as one said no, except my husband would come for me. When we were lain down, my master went out of the wigwam, and by and by sent in an Indian called James the printer, who told Mr. Hoar that my master would let me go home tomorrow if he would let him have one pint of liquor. Then Mr. Hoar called his own Indians, Tom and Peter, and bid them all go and see if he would promise it before them three, and if he would he should have it; which he did and had it. Philip, smelling the business, called me to him, and asked me what I would give him to tell me some good news, and to speak a good word for me, that I might go home tomorrow. I told him I could not tell what to give him, I would any thing I had, and asked him what he would have. He said two coats, and twenty shillings in money, half a bushel of seed corn, and some tobacco. I thanked him for his love, but I knew that good news as well as that crafty fox.
My master, after he had his drink, quickly came ranting into the wigwam again, and called for Mr. Hoar, drinking to him and saying he was a good man, and then again he would say, “hang him, a rogue.” Being almost drunk, he would drink to him, and yet presently say he should be hanged. Then he called for me. I trembled to hear him, and yet I was fain to go to him; and he drank to me, showing no incivility. He was the first Indian I saw drunk, all the time I was among them. At last his squaw ran out, and he after her round the wigwam, with his money jingling at his knees, but she escaped him; but having an old squaw, he ran to her, and so through the Lord’s mercy we were no more troubled with him that night. Yet I had not a comfortable night’s rest; for I think I can say I did not sleep for three nights together. The night before the letter came from the council, I could not rest, I was so full of fears and troubles; yea, at this time I could not rest night nor day. The next night I was overjoyed, Mr. Hoar being come, and that with such good tidings. The third night I was even swallowed up with the thoughts of going home again, and that I must leave my children behind me in the wilderness; so that sleep was now almost departed from mine eyes.
On Tuesday morning they called their General Court, as they styled it, to consult and determine whether I should go home or no. And they all seemingly consented that I should go, except Philip, who would not come among them.
But before I go any farther, I would take leave to mention a few remarkable passages of Providence, which I took special notice of in my afflicted time.
- Of the fair opportunity lost in the long march, a little after the fort fight, when our English army was so numerous., and in pursuit of the enemy, and so near as to overtake several and destroy them; and the enemy in such distress for food that our men might track them by their rooting the ground for ground-nuts, whilst they were flying for their lives: I say, that then our army should want provisions, and be obliged to leave their pursuit, and turn homeward, and the very next week the enemy came upon our town, like bears bereft of their whelps, or so many ravenous wolves, rending us and our lambs to death. But what shall I say? God seemed to leave his people to themselves, and ordered all things for his own holy ends. “Shall there be evil in the city and the Lord hath not done it? They are not grieved for the affliction of Joseph; therefore they shall go captive with the first that go captive. It is the Lord’s doing, and it should be marvelous in our eyes.”
- I cannot but remember how the Indians derided the slowness and the dullness of the English army in its setting out; for after the desolations at Lancaster and Medfield, as I went along with them, they asked me when I thought the English army would come after them. I told them I could not tell. “It may be they will come in May,” said they. Thus they did scoff at us, as if the English would be a quarter of a year getting ready.
- Which also I have hinted before, when the English army with new supplies were sent forth to pursue after the enemy, and they, understanding it, fled before them till they came to Baquaug River, where they forthwith went over safely; that the river should be impassable to the English. I cannot but admire to see the wonderful providence of God in preserving the heathen for further affliction to our poor country. They could go in great numbers over, but the English must stop. God had an overruling hand in all those things.
- It was thought, if their corn were cut down, they would starve and die with hunger; and all that could be found was destroyed, and they driven from that little they had in store into the woods, in the midst of winter; and yet how to admiration did the Lord preserve them for his holy ends, and the destruction of many still among the English! Strangely did the Lord provide for them, that I did not see, all the time I was among them, one man, woman, or child die with hunger. Though many times they would eat that that a hog would hardly touch, yet by that God strengthened them to be a scourge to his people.
Their chief and commonest food was ground-nuts; they eat also nuts and acorns, artichokes, lily roots, ground beans, and several other weeds and roots that I know not. They would pick up old bones, and cut them in pieces at the joints, and if they were full of worms and maggots they would scald them over the fire, to make the vermin come out, and then boil them, and drink up the liquor, and then beat the great ends of them in a mortar, and so eat them. They would eat horses’ guts and ears, and all sorts of wild birds which they could catch; also bear, venison, beavers, tortoise, frogs, squirrels, dogs, skunks, rattlesnakes, yea the very bark of trees; besides all sorts of creatures, and provisions which they plundered from the English. I can but stand in admiration to see the wonderful power of God, in providing for such a vast number of our enemies in the wilderness, where there was nothing to be seen but from hand to mouth. Many times in the morning the generality of them would eat up all they had, and yet have some farther supply against they wanted. But now our perverse and evil carriages in the sight of the Lord have so offended him, that instead of turning his hand against them, the Lord feeds and nourishes them up to be a scourge to the whole land.
- Another thing that I would observe is the strange providence of God in turning things about when the Indians were at the highest and the English at the lowest. I was with the enemy eleven weeks and five days, ((Viz. from Feb. 10 to May 2d or 3d.)) and not one week passed without their fury and some desolation by fire or sword upon one place or other. They mourned for their own losses, yet triumphed and rejoiced in their inhuman and devilish cruelty to the English. They would boast much of their victories, saying that in two hours’ time they had destroyed such a captain and his company, in such a place; and boast how many towns they had destroyed, and then scoff and say they had done them a good turn to send them to heaven so soon. Again they would say this summer they would knock all the rogues on the head, or drive them into the sea, or make them fly the country; thinking surely, Agag-like, “The bitterness of death is passed.” Now the heathen begin to think all is their own; and the poor Christians’ hopes fail, (as to man,) and now their eyes are more to God, and their hearts sigh heaven-ward, and they say in good earnest, “Help, Lord, or we perish.” When the Lord had brought his people to this, that they saw no help in anything but himself, then he takes the quarrel into his own hand; and though they made a pit as deep as hell for the Christians that summer, yet the Lord hurled themselves into it. And the Lord had not so many ways before to preserve them, but now he hath as many to destroy them.
But to return again to my going home; where we may see a remarkable change of providence. At first they were all against it, except my husband would come for me; but afterward they assented to it, and seeming to rejoice in it; some asking me to send them some bread, others some tobacco, others shaking me by the hand, offering me a hood and scarf to ride in: not one moving hand or tongue against it. Thus hath the Lord answered my poor desires, and the many earnest requests of others put up unto God for me. In my travels an Indian came to me, and told me if I were willing he and his squaw would run away, and go home along with me. I told them no, I was not willing to run away, but desired to wait God’s time, that I might go home quietly and without fear. And now God hath granted me my desire. O the wonderful power of God that I have seen, and the experiences that I have had! I have been in the midst of those roaring lions and savage bears, that feared neither God, nor man, nor the devil, by night and day, alone and in company, sleeping all sorts together, and yet not one of them ever offered the least abuse of unchastity to me in word or action; though some are ready to say I speak it for my own credit; but I speak it in the presence of God, and to his glory. God’s power is as great now as it was to save Daniel in the lions’ den, or the three children in the fiery furnace. Especially that I should come away in the midst of so many hundreds of enemies, and not a dog move his tongue.
So I took my leave of them and in coming along my heart melted into tears more than all the while I was with them, and I was almost swallowed up with the thoughts that ever I should go home again. About the sun’s going down, Mr. Hoar, myself and the two Indians, came to Lancaster; and solemn sight it was to me. There had I lived many comfortable years among my relations and neighbors, and now no one Christian to be seen, or one house left standing. We went on to a farm house that was yet standing, where we lay all night; and a comfortable lodging we had, though nothing but straw to lie on. The Lord preserved us in safety that night, raised us up again in the morning, and carried us along, that before noon we came to Concord. Now was I full of joy, and yet not without sorrow: joy to see such a lovely sight, so many Christians together, and some of them my neighbors. There I met with my brother and brother-in-law, ((Capt. Kerley.)) who asked me if I knew where his wife was. Poor heart! he had helped to bury her, and knew it not. She, being shot down by the house, was partly burnt; so that those who were at Boston at the desolation of the town came back afterward and buried the dead, but did not know her. Yet I was not without sorrow, to think how many were looking and longing, and my own children among the rest, to enjoy that deliverance that I had now received; and I did not know whether ever I should see them again.
Being recruited with food and raiment, we went to Boston that day, where I met with my dear husband; but the thoughts of our dear children, one being dead, and the other we could not tell where, abated our comfort in each other. I was not before so much hemmed in by the merciless and cruel heathen, but now as much with pitiful, tender-hearted, and compassionate Christians. In that poor and beggarly condition, I was received in, I was kindly entertained in several houses. So much love I received from several, (many of whom I knew not,) that I am not capable to declare it. But the Lord knows them all by name; the Lord reward them sevenfold into their bosoms of his spirituals for their temporal. The twenty pounds, the price of my redemption, was raised by some Boston gentlewomen, and Mr. Usher, [Hezekiah?] whose bounty and charity I would not forget to make mention of. Then Mr. Thomas Shepard, of Charlestown, received us into his house, where we continued eleven weeks; and a father and mother they were unto us. And many more tender-hearted friends we met with in that place. We were now in the midst of love, yet not without much and frequent heaviness of heart for our poor children and other relations who were still in affliction.
The week following, after my coming in, the governor and council sent to the Indians again, and that not without success; for they brought in my sister and goodwife Kettle. Their not knowing where our children were was a sore trial to us still; and yet we were not without secret hopes of seeing them again. That which was dead lay heavier upon my spirits than those which were alive among the heathen; thinking how it suffered with its wounds, and I was not able to relieve it, and how it was buried by the heathen in the wilderness from among all Christians. We were hurried up and down in our thoughts; sometimes we should hear a report that they were gone this way and sometimes that, and that they were come in this place or that; we kept inquiring and listening to hear concerning them, but no certain news as yet. About this time the council had ordered a day of public thanksgiving, though I had still cause of mourning; and being unsettled in our minds, we thought we would ride eastward, to see if we could hear anything concerning our children. As we were riding along between Ipswich and Rowley, we met with William Hubbard, who told us our son Joseph and my sister’s son were come into Major Waldren’s. I asked him how he knew it. He said the major himself told him so. So along we went till we came to Newbury; and their minister being absent, they desired my husband to preach the thanksgiving for them; but he was not willing to stay there that night, but he would go over to Salisbury, to hear farther, and come again in the morning, which he did, and preached there that day. At night, when he had done, one came and told him that his daughter was come into Providence. Here was mercy on both hands. Now we were between them, the one on the east, and the other on the west. Our son being nearest, we went to him first, to Portsmouth, where we met with him, and with the major also; who told us he had done what he could, but could not redeem him under seven pounds, which the good people thereabouts were pleased to pay. The Lord rewards the major, and all the rest, though unknown to me, for their labor of love. My sister’s son was redeemed for four pounds, which the council gave order for the payment of. Having now received one of our children, we hastened toward the other. Going back through Newbury, my husband preached there on the Sabbath day, for which they rewarded him manifold.
On Monday we came to Charlestown, where we heard that the governor of Rhode Island had sent over for our daughter, to take care of her, being now within his jurisdiction, which should not pass without our acknowledgments. But she being nearer Rehoboth than Rhode Island, Mr. Newman went over and took care of her, and brought her to his own house. And the goodness of God was admirable to us in our low estate, in that he raised up compassionate friends on every side, when we had nothing to recompense any for their love. The Indians were now gone that way that it was apprehended dangerous to go to her; but the carts which carried provision to the English army, being guarded, brought her with them to Dorchester, where we received her safe. Blessed be the Lord for it. Her coming in was after this manner: she was travelling one day with the Indians, with her basket at her back; the company of Indians were got before her, and gone out of sight, all except one squaw. She followed the squaw till night, and then both of them lay down, having nothing over them but the heavens, nor under them but the earth. Thus she travelled three days together, having nothing to eat or drink but water and green hirtleberries. At last they came into Providence, where she was kindly entertained by several of that town. The Indians often said that I should never have her under twenty pounds, but now the Lord hath brought her in upon free cost, and given her to me the second time. The Lord make us a blessing indeed to each other. Thus hath the Lord brought me and mine out of the horrible pit, and hath set us in the midst of tender-hearted and compassionate Christians. ‘This the desire of my soul that we may walk worthy of the mercies received and which we are receiving.
Our family being now gathered together, the South church in Boston hired a house for us. Then we removed from Mr. Shepard’s (those cordial friends) and went to Boston, where we continued about three quarters of a year. ((Till May, 1677.)) Still the Lord went along with us, and provided graciously for us. I thought it somewhat strange to set up housekeeping with bare walls, but, as Solomon says, money answers all things; and this we had through the benevolence of Christian friends, some in this town, and some in that, and others, and some from England, that in a little time we might look and see the house furnished with love. The Lord hath been exceeding good to us in our low estate, in that when we had neither house nor home, nor other necessaries, the Lord so moved the hearts of these and those towards us, that we wanted neither food nor raiment for ourselves or ours. Prov. 18: 24, “There is a friend that sticketh closer than a brother.” And how many such friends have we found, and now living among us! And truly have we found him to be such a friend unto us in whose house we lived, viz. Mr. James Whitcomb, a friend near hand and far off.
I can remember the time when I used to sleep quietly, with out working in my thoughts, whole nights together; but now it is otherwise with me. When all are fast about me, and no eye open, but His whoever awaketh, my thoughts are upon things past, upon the aw f ul dispensations of the Lord towards u?, upon his wonderful power and might in carrying of us through so many difficulties, in returning us in safety, and suffering none to hurt us. I remember in the night season how the other day I was in the midst of thousands of enemies, and nothing but death before me. It was then hard work to persuade myself that ever I should be satisfied with bread again. But now we are fed with the finest of the wheat, and, as I may say, with honey out of the rock. Instead of the husks we have the fat calf. The thoughts of these things in the particulars of them, and of the love and goodness of God towards us, make it true of me, what David said of himself, Psal. 6: 6, “I water my couch with my tears.” the wonderful power of God that mine eyes have seen, affording matter enough for my thoughts to run in, that when others are sleeping mine eyes are weeping.
I have seen the extreme vanity of this world. One hour I have been in health, and wealth, wanting nothing, but the next hour in sickness, and wounds, and death, having nothing but sorrow and affliction. Before I knew what affliction meant I was ready sometimes to wish for it. When I lived in prosperity, having the comforts of this world about me, my relations by me, and my heart cheerful, and taking little care for anything, and yet seeing many, whom I preferred before my-self, under many trials and afflictions, in sickness, weakness, poverty, losses, crosses, and cares of the world, I should be sometimes jealous lest I should have my portion in this life. But now I see the Lord had his time to scourge and chasten me. The portion of some is to have their affliction by drops, but the wine of astonishment, like a sweeping rain that leaveth no food, did the Lord prepare to be my portion. Affliction I wanted and affliction I had, full measure, pressed down and running over. Yet I see when God calls persons to never so many difficulties, yet he is able to carry them through, and make them say they have been gainers thereby; and I hope I can say, in some measure, as David, it is good for me that I have been afflicted. The Lord hath showed me the vanity of these outward things, that they are the vanities of vanities and vexation of spirit; that they are but a shadow, a blast, a bubble, and things of no continuance. If trouble from smaller matter begin to rise in me, I have something at hand to check myself with, and say, “Why am I troubled?” It was but the other day that if I had the world I would have given it for my freedom, or to have been a servant to a Christian. 1 Save learned to look beyond present and smaller troubles, and to be quieted under them, as Moses said, Exod. 14: 13, “Stand still and tee the salvation of the Lord.”
Mr. Willard, in his History of Lancaster, says he cannot ascertain that attacks were made in more than two places previous to that upon Mr. Rowlandson’s house; the first of which was Wheeler’s garrison, at Wataquodoc hill, now south-west part of Bolton. Here they killed Jonas Fairbanks and Joshua his son, fifteen years of age, and Richard Wheeler. Wheeler had been in town about fifteen years. The second was Prescott’s garrison, near Poignand and Plant’s cotton factory. Ephraim Sawyer was killed here; and Henry Farrar and a Mr. Ball and his wife in other places. ↩
Or Payquage now Miller’s River. It empties into the Connecticut, between Northfield and Montague. ↩
Sudbury was attacked 21st April. ↩