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The Narrative of the
Captivity and the Restoration
of Mrs. Mary Rowlandson (1682) by Mary Rowlandson
The
sovereignty and goodness of GOD, together with the faithfulness of his promises
displayed, being a narrative of the captivity and restoration of Mrs. Mary
Rowlandson, commended by her, to all that desires to know the Lord's doings to,
and dealings with her. Especially to her dear children and relations.
On
the tenth of February 1675
, came the Indians with great numbers upon
Lancaster
: their first coming was about sunrising; 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 the 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 some
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 in head, and 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 before them.
At length
they came and beset our own house, and quickly it was the saddest 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 could
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
Some in our house were fighting for their lives, others wallowing in
their blood, the house on fire over our heads, and the bloody heathen ready to
knock us on the head, if we stirred out.
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. 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, 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 beasts, 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 upon a hill within sight of the town, where they intended to lodge. 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. There remained
nothing to me but one poor wounded babe, Sarah, 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, Ay, even those
that seem to profess more than others among them, when the English have fallen
into their hands.
The
Second Remove
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; 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.
The
Third Remove
The
morning being come, they prepared to go on their way. One of the Indians got up
upon a horse, and they set 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's being so exceeding sick, and in a lamentable condition with her wound.
It may be easily 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.
Yet the Lord still showed mercy to me, and upheld me; and as He wounded me
with one hand, so he healed me with the other. Then I took oaken 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 Psalm 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 a 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, sometimes one Indian would come and tell me one hour that
"your master will knock your child in the head," and then a second,
and then a third, "your master will quickly knock your child in the
head."
This was the comfort I had from them, miserable comforters are ye all, as
he said. 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 bade 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, 1675
. It being about six years, and five months old. It was nine days from the first
wounding, in this miserable condition, without any refreshing of one nature or
other, except a little cold water.
I cannot but take notice how at another time I could not bear to be in the
room where any dead person was, but now the case is changed; I must and could
lie down by my dead babe, side by side all the night after. I have thought since
of the wonderful goodness of God to me in preserving me 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 for me home to my master's wigwam .
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 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;
then they told me it was upon the hill. Then they went and showed me where it
was, where I saw the ground was newly digged, and there 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 this 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 afterward sold for a gun. When I came in sight, she would fall
aweeping; at which they were provoked, and would not let me come near her, but
bade 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:
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 which 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 prayers; for as I was going up and down
mourning and lamenting my condition, my son 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 amongst 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. He could only stay a short
while since his masters would soon be moving from Medfield.
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, 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, whether 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.
The Fifth Remove
The
occasion (as I thought) of their moving at this time was the English army, it
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 some of
their stoutest men, and sent them back to hold the English army in play whilst
the rest escaped.
Being very faint I asked my mistress to give me one spoonful of the meal,
but she would not give me a taste. 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 ate any thing; 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 sweet and savory to
my taste.
I was at this time knitting a pair of white cotton stockings for my
mistress; and had not yet wrought upon a Sabbath day. When the Sabbath came they
bade me go to work. I told them it was the Sabbath day, and desired them to let
me rest, and told them I would do as much more tomorrow; to which they answered
me they would break my face
The
Ninth Remove
But
instead of going either 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 spoke to me to make him a shirt.
When I had done it, he would pay me nothing. But he living by the riverside,
where I often went to fetch water, I would often be putting of 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.
My son being now about a mile from me, I asked liberty to go and see him;
they bade me go, and away I went; but quickly lost myself, traveling 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.
He showed me the way to my son.
When I came to him I found him not well: and 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, and no Christian friend was near him, to do any
office of love for him, either for soul or body. And my poor girl, I knew not
where she was, nor whether she was sick, or well, or alive, or dead. I repaired
under these thoughts to my Bible (my great comfort in that time) and that
Scripture came to my hand, "Cast thy burden upon the Lord, and He shall
sustain thee" (Psalm 55.22).
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 my
release, 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 are all very well but melancholy." They
brought me two biscuits, and a pound of tobacco. The tobacco I quickly gave
away.
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.
Yet at a venture I said "Twenty pounds," yet desired them to take
less. But they would not hear of that, but sent that message to
Boston
, that for twenty pounds I should be redeemed. It was a Praying Indian that
wrote their letter for them.
My daughter was also now about a mile off, and I had not seen her in nine
or ten weeks. I asked 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 foreward spirit inclining
him), together with the two forementioned Indians, Tom and Peter, with their
third letter from the council asking for my release.
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. Amongst
other things which my husband sent me, there came a pound of tobacco, which I
sold for nine shillings in money; for many of the Indians 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 night, we lay down with that answer.
When we were lain down for the night, 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.
I was with the enemy eleven weeks and five days, and not one week passed
without the fury of the enemy, and some desolation by fire and sword upon one
place or other. They mourned (with their black faces) for their own losses, yet
triumphed and rejoiced in their inhumane, and many times 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 at 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.
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 afterwards they assented to it, and seemed much to rejoice in it;
some asked me to send them some bread, others some tobacco, others shaking me by
the hand, offering me a hood and scarfe to ride in; not one moving hand or
tongue against it. Thus hath the Lord answered my poor desire, and the many
earnest requests of others put up unto God for me.
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 going down,
Mr. Hoar, and myself, and the two Indians came to
Lancaster
, and a solemn sight it was to me. There had I lived many comfortable years
amongst my relations and neighbors, and now not one Christian to be seen, nor
one house left standing.
We went on to a farmhouse 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, and 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 my brother-in-law, 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, and came back afterward, and buried the dead,
did not know her. Yet I was not without sorrow, to think how many were looking
and longing, and my own children amongst 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 each to other.
Though I thought I had still cause of mourning, and being unsettled in our
minds, we thought we would ride toward the eastward, to see if we could hear
anything concerning our children. 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.
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.
We found her there.
Our family being now gathered together (those of us that were living), the
South
Church
in
Boston
hired an house for us. Then we left
Mr. Shepard's, those cordial
friends, and went to
Boston
, where we continued about three-quarters of a year. Still the Lord went along
with us, and provided graciously for us.
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