is in the octave of the Assumption of the Blessed Virgin, who was my
deliverer.
I was a prisoner among the Iroquois for four months; but small is that
compared to what my sins deserve. I was unable, during my captivity, to
render to any of those wretched beings, in return for the evil they did
me, the good which was the object of my desires; that is, impart to
them a knowledge of the true God. Not knowing the language, I tried to
instruct, through a captive interpreter, an old man who was dying; but
he was too proud to listen to me, answering that a man of his age and
standing should teach, and not be taught. I asked him if he knew
whither he would go after death. He answered me: "To the Sunset." Then
he began to relate their fables and delusions, which those wretched
people, blinded by the Demon, esteem as the most solid truths.
I baptized none but a Huron. They had brought him where I was, to burn
him, and those who guarded me told me to go and see him. I did so with
reluctance; for they had told me falsely that he was not one of our
Indians, and that I could not understand him. I advanced towards the
crowd, which opened and let me approach this man, even then all
disfigured by the tortures. He was stretched upon the bare ground, with
nothing to rest his head upon. Seeing a stone near me, I pushed it with
my foot towards his head, to serve him as a pillow. He then looked up
at me, and either some wisp of beard that I had left, or some other
mark, made him suppose I was a foreigner.
"Is not this man," said he to his keeper, "the European whom you hold
captive?"
Being answered "Yes," he again cast towards me a piteous look. "Sit
down, my brother, by me," said he; "I would speak with thee."
I sat down, though not without horror, such was the stench that exhaled
from his already half-roasted body. Happy to be able to understand him
a little, because he spoke Huron, I asked him what he desired, hoping
to be able to profit by the occasion to instruct and baptize him. To my
great consolation I was anticipated by the answer:
"What do I ask?" he said; "I ask but one thing, baptism. Make haste,
for the time is short."
I wished to question him as to the faith, so as not to administer a
sacrament with precipitation; but I found him perfectly instructed,
having been already received among the catechumens in the Huron
country. I therefore baptized him, to his and my own great
satisfaction. Though I had done so by a kind of stratagem, using the
water which I had brought for him to drink, the Iroquois nevertheless
perceived it. The captains were at once informed, and, with angry
threats, drove me from the hut, and then began to torture him as
before.
The following morning they roasted him alive. Then, because I had
baptized him, they brought all his members, one by one, into the cabin
where I was. Before my eyes they skinned and ate the feet and hands.
The husband of the mistress of the lodge threw at my feet the dead
man's head, and left it there a long while, reproaching me with what I
had done, alluding to the baptism and prayers which I had offered with
him, and saying: "And what indeed have thy enchantments helped him?
Have they perhaps delivered him from death?"
III
NARRATIVE OF MRS. MARY ROWLANDSON
WHO WAS TAKEN CAPTIVE BY THE WAMPONOAGS UNDER KING PHILIP, IN 1676.
WRITTEN BY HERSELF.
Mary Rowlandson was the wife of the Reverend Joseph Rowlandson, the
first minister of Lancaster, Massachusetts. On the tenth of
February, 1676, during King Philip's War, the Indians destroyed
Lancaster, and took her captive. She was treated with gross
cruelty, and was sold by her Narragansett captor to a sagamore
named Quannopin. After nearly three months of starving and
wretchedness she was ransomed for about eighty dollars which was
contributed by some women of Boston.
Her own account of her captivity, originally published in 1682, is
here given with the omission of nothing but certain reflections
that are not essential to the narrative. (_Editor._)
On the 10th of February, 1676, came the Indians with great numbers[6]
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.
[6] Fifteen hundred Wamponoags, led by King Philip, and
accompanied by the Narragansetts, his allies, and by the
Nipmucks and Nashaways.
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 on 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.
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; some of the Indians got behind the hill, others 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 defence 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, 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[7] (being
before wounded in defending the house, in or near the throat) fell down
dead, whereat the Indians scornfully shouted and hallooed, 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 arms. 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.
[7] Thomas Rowlandson, brother to the clergyman.
My eldest sister being yet in the house, and seeing those woful sights,
the infidels hauling 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. 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....
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
friends and relations lie bleeding out their heart's-blood upon the
ground. There was one who was chopped in the head with a hatchet, and
stripped naked, and yet was crawling up and down.
I had often before this said, that if the Indians should come, I 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.
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 on a hill 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 (at least separated from me,
he being in the Bay;[8] 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,[9] 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.
[8] Boston.
[9] Seventeen of her family were put to death or captured.
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.
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....
After this it quickly began to snow, and when night came on they
stopped. 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.
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).
This day there came to me one Robert Pepper, a man belonging to
Roxbury, who was taken at Captain Beers's 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 Captain Beers's 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.
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.
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
Narragansett 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 a while at my master's wigwam, I took the
first opportunity I could get to 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. 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,[10]
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 begone, which was a heart-cutting word to 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.
[10] Convert to Christianity.
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, among 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.
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., good-wife Joslin, told me she should never see me again,
and that she could not find it in her heart to run away by any means,
for we were near thirty miles from any English town, and she with a
child two years old; and bad rivers there were to go over, and we were
feeble with our poor and coarse entertainment....
THE FOURTH REMOVE.--And now must I part with the little company I had.
Here I parted with my daughter Mary, 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 afterwards; the Lord
only knows the end of them. 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.
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. Then they made a stop, and chose out some of their stoutest men,
and sent them back to hold the English army in play while 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 Baquaug 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. 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 knitting a pair of 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 travelled with
all they had, bag and baggage, and they got over this river aforesaid;
and on Monday they set 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.
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 among them,
where, through the good providence of God, I did not wet my foot. I
went along that day mourning 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 a 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 towards 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.
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 with 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.