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NARRATIVE OF THE CAPTIVITY AND RESTORATION OF MRS. MARY ROWLANDSON
By Mrs. Mary Rowlandson
CONTENTS
CONTENTS
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. The second Addition [sic] Corrected and amended. Written by her own hand for her private use, and now made public at the earnest desire of some friends, and for the benefit of the afflicted. Deut. 32.39. See now that I, even I am he, and there is no god with me, I kill and I make alive, I wound and I heal, neither is there any can deliver out of my hand.
The sovereignty and goodness of God, along with the faithfulness of His promises, is illustrated in the story of the captivity and restoration of Mrs. Mary Rowlandson. She shares this narrative with everyone who wants to understand the Lord's actions and interactions with her, especially for her beloved children and relatives. The second edition has been corrected and updated. Written by her own hand for her private use, it is now being published at the sincere request of some friends and for the benefit of those who are suffering. Deut. 32:39. See now that I, even I, am He, and there is no god besides Me. I kill and make alive; I wound and heal. No one can deliver out of My hand.
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.
On February 10, 1675, a large group of Indians attacked Lancaster. They arrived around sunrise, and when we heard gunfire, we looked outside. Several houses were on fire, with smoke rising into the sky. In one house, five people were taken; the father, mother, and a baby were killed, while the other two were captured and taken away alive. Two others, who were outside their fort for some reason, were ambushed; one was killed, while the other managed to escape. Another person was running when he was shot and wounded, and he fell to the ground begging for his life, offering them money (so they told me), but they refused to listen and struck him in the head, stripped him of his clothes, and opened his stomach. One more person, seeing many Indians around his barn, took a chance and went outside but was quickly shot down. Three others from the same garrison were also killed; the Indians climbed onto the roof of the barn, giving them a perfect opportunity to shoot down at the people behind the fortification. Thus, these murderous attackers continued their rampage, burning and destroying everything in their path.
At length they came and beset our own 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 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 (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 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 their 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', 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 an handful of stones and threw them, so that we were fain to give back. We had six stout dogs belonging to our garrison, but none of them would stir, though another time, if any 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 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 (being before wounded, in defending the house, in or near the throat) fell down dead, whereat the Indians scornfully shouted, and hallowed, 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 dear child in my arms. One of my elder sisters' children, named William, had then his leg broken, which the Indians perceiving, they knocked him on [his] head. Thus were we butchered by those merciless heathen, standing amazed, with the blood running down to our heels. My eldest sister being yet in the house, and seeing those woeful sights, the infidels hauling mothers one way, and children another, and some wallowing in their blood: and her elder son telling her that her son William was dead, and myself was wounded, she said, "And 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, "And he said unto me, my Grace is sufficient for thee" (2 Corinthians 12.9). 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.
Eventually, they came and surrounded our house, and it quickly turned into the most tragic day I had ever witnessed. The house was perched on the edge of a hill; some of the Native Americans hid behind the hill, others in the barn, and some behind anything that could provide cover. From all these spots, they shot at the house, so that the bullets flew like hail; they quickly wounded one person among us, then another, and then a third. About two hours (as I noted in that astonishing time) passed before they managed to set the house on fire (which they did using flax and hemp they retrieved from the barn, and with no defenses around the house, except for two flankers at opposite corners, one of which wasn’t even finished); they set it ablaze once, and one person ventured out to extinguish it, but they quickly set it on fire again, and this time it caught. Now the dreadful moment had come, one I had often heard about in times of war, as had happened to others, but now I was witnessing it. Some inside our house were fighting for their lives, others were lying in their own blood, the house burning above us, and the murderous attackers ready to strike us down if we dared to move. We could hear mothers and children crying out for help, asking each other, "Lord, what should we do?" Then I took my children (and one of my sister’s children) to leave the house. But as soon as we got to the door and appeared, the Native Americans shot so heavily that the bullets rattled against the house as if someone had thrown a handful of stones, forcing us to retreat. We had six strong dogs in our defense, but none of them would move, even though at another time, if any Native American had approached the door, they would have been ready to attack. The Lord caused this to make us acknowledge His hand more and to see that our help is always in Him. But we had to go out, with the fire raging behind us and the Native Americans waiting in front with their guns, spears, and hatchets, ready to kill us. No sooner were we out of the house than my brother-in-law (who had been wounded defending the house, near his throat) collapsed dead, prompting the Native Americans to scornfully shout and cheer, and they immediately rushed towards him, stripping away his clothes, with bullets flying thick; one went through my side and apparently through the belly and hand of my dear child in my arms. One of my older sister's children, named William, had his leg broken, and when the Native Americans saw this, they struck him on the head. Thus, we were slaughtered by those merciless enemies, left in shock, with blood running down to our heels. My oldest sister, still in the house and witnessing these horrific scenes, saw the infidels dragging mothers in one direction and children in another, some lying in their blood; when her older son told her that her son William was dead and that I was wounded, she said, "Lord, let me die with them," and no sooner had she said this than she was struck by a bullet and fell dead across the threshold. I hope she is now reaping the rewards of her good deeds, having been faithful in serving God in her role. In her younger years, she faced much spiritual turmoil until God touched her heart with that precious scripture, "And he said unto me, my Grace is sufficient for thee" (2 Corinthians 12.9). More than twenty years later, I heard her recount how sweet and comforting that promise was to her. But to return: the Native Americans seized us, pulling me one way and the children another, saying, "Come, go with us"; I told them they would kill me. They replied that if I was willing to go with them, they wouldn’t harm 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 who were in this one house, none escaped either present death, or a bitter captivity, save only one, who might say as he, "And I only am escaped alone to tell the News" (Job 1.15). 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, and to see our dear friends, and relations lie bleeding out their heart-blood upon the ground. There was one who was chopped into the head with a hatchet, and stripped naked, and yet was crawling up and down. It is 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 stripped 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.
Oh, what a heartbreaking scene it was to see at this house! "Come, see the works of the Lord, what desolation He has brought upon the earth." Out of thirty-seven people in this one house, none survived either immediate death or bitter captivity, except for one, who could say, "And I alone have escaped to tell the news" (Job 1.15). Twelve were killed, some shot, some stabbed with spears, some knocked down with hatchets. When we're doing well, we hardly think about such horrific sights or see our dear friends and family lying in pools of their own blood. There was one person who had been struck in the head with a hatchet and left naked, yet was still crawling around. It's a grim sight to see so many Christians lying in their blood, some here and some there, like a flock of sheep attacked by wolves, all stripped bare by a pack of hellhounds, roaring, singing, ranting, and taunting, as if they wanted to tear our very hearts out; yet the Lord, in His almighty power, saved a number of us from death, as twenty-four of us were taken alive and carried off into captivity.
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.
I had often said before this that if the Indians ever came, I’d rather be killed by them than captured, but when it actually happened, my mindset changed; their shiny weapons scared me so much that I chose to go along with those (I might say) ferocious creatures rather than end my life at that moment. To better explain what happened to me during that terrible captivity, I will specifically talk about the various places we traveled through in 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. 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 English men 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 as miserable was the waste that was there made of horses, cattle, sheep, swine, calves, lambs, roasting pigs, and fowl (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; 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, 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, Ay, even those that seem to profess more than others among them, when the English have fallen into their hands.
Now we have to go with those brutal creatures, with our bodies wounded and bleeding, and our hearts just as hurt. We traveled about a mile that night, up a hill where we could see the town, where they planned to stay. Nearby was an empty house (abandoned by the English before, out of fear of the Indians). I asked them if I could stay in the house that night, and they replied, "What, do you still love English people?" This was the most miserable night I have ever experienced. Oh, the roaring, singing, dancing, and yelling of those dark creatures in the night made the place feel like a scene straight out of hell. It was just as heartbreaking to see the devastation of horses, cattle, sheep, pigs, calves, lambs, roasting pigs, and fowl (which they had stolen from the town), some being roasted, some lying there burned, and some boiling to feed our ruthless enemies; they were joyous while we were in despair. To add to the sadness of the previous day and the grimness of this night, my thoughts were consumed by my losses and my tragic situation. Everything was gone: my husband (at least separated from me, as he was in the Bay; adding to my grief, the Indians told me they would kill him when he came home), my children, my relatives and friends, our house and home, and all our comforts—inside and out—everything was gone (except my life), and I didn’t know if that could be taken away in the next moment too. The only thing left to me was one poor wounded baby, and it felt worse than death that it was in such a pitiful state, calling for compassion, and I had nothing to soothe it, nor anything suitable to revive it. Little do most people realize how savage and brutal this enemy is, even those who seem to be more civilized among them, when the English fall 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 weekday, 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.
Those seven who were killed in Lancaster the summer before on a Sunday, and the one who was later killed on a weekday, were brutally murdered and mutilated by one-eyed John and Marlborough's Praying Indians, which Capt. Mosely brought to Boston, according to what 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 knew 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 upon the horse's back, as we were going down a steep hill we both fell over the horse's head, at which they, like inhumane creatures, laughed, and rejoiced to see it, though I thought we should there have ended our days, as 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.
But now, the next morning, I have to turn my back on the town and travel with them into the vast and desolate wilderness, not knowing where we’re going. No words can express the sorrow in my heart and the bitterness of my spirit at this departure; yet God was with me in an incredible way, supporting me and lifting my spirit so it didn’t completely fail. One of the Indians carried my poor wounded baby on a horse, and it kept moaning, "I shall die, I shall die." I walked after it, filled with an indescribable sorrow. Finally, I took it off the horse and carried it in my arms until I ran out of strength and fell down with it. Then they put me on a horse with my wounded child in my lap, and since there was no saddle, as we went down a steep hill, we both fell over the horse's head. They laughed at us like cruel creatures, finding joy in our misfortune, though I thought we might have reached the end of our days, overwhelmed by so many difficulties. Yet the Lord renewed my strength and carried me along so I could witness more of His power—so much more than I could have ever imagined had I not lived through it.
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. 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.
After this, it quickly started to snow, and when night fell, we stopped. I had to sit in the snow by a small fire with a few branches behind me, holding my sick child in my lap. My child was desperately asking for water, now burning with a severe fever from the wound. My own injury was also becoming so stiff that I could hardly sit or stand up. But I had to endure; I had to sit all that cold winter night on the freezing snowy ground, with my sick child in my arms, fearing that every hour could be its last. There was no Christian friend nearby to comfort or help me. Despite everything, I could see God’s incredible power in that my spirit didn’t completely break under my suffering. Still, the Lord supported me with His gracious and merciful spirit, and we both lived 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 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. This day in the afternoon, about an hour by sun, we came to the place where they intended, viz. an Indian town, called Wenimesset, northward of Quabaug. When we were come, Oh the number of pagans (now merciless enemies) that there came about me, that I may say as David, "I had fainted, unless I had believed, etc" (Psalm 27.13). 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 unto 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 forever. 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. This day there came to me one Robert Pepper (a man belonging to Roxbury) who was taken in 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 Beer's fight; and was not able some time to go, but as they carried him, and as he took oaken leaves and laid to his wound, and through the blessing of God he was able to travel again. 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."
The morning came, and they got ready to continue their journey. One of the Indians got on a horse, and they placed me behind him, with my poor sick baby in my lap. It was a very exhausting and tedious day for me; with my own injury and my child being extremely sick and in a terrible condition because of her wound. It’s easy to see what a weak state we were in, having not had a single crumb of food from Wednesday night to Saturday night, except for some cold water. In the afternoon, around an hour before sunset, we arrived at the place they intended, an Indian town called Wenimesset, north of Quabaug. When we got there, oh the number of pagans (now merciless enemies) that gathered around me! I can say with David, "I would have fainted unless I had believed, etc" (Psalm 27.13). The next day was Sunday. I remembered how careless I had been about God's holy day; how many Sundays I had lost and wasted, and how poorly I had lived in God's sight. This weighed heavily on my spirit, and it was clear to me how just it was for God to end my life and cast me out of His presence forever. Yet the Lord continued to show me mercy and kept me going; as He wounded me with one hand, He healed me with the other. That day, a man named Robert Pepper (from Roxbury) came to see me. He had been captured during Captain Beers's fight and had been with the Indians for a significant amount of time, even going up with them almost as far as Albany to see King Philip, as he told me, and he had just recently returned to this area. Hearing that I was in this Indian town, he got permission to visit me. He said he was wounded in the leg during Captain Beer's fight and couldn't walk for some time except when they carried him, but he used oak leaves on his wound, and with God's blessing, he was able to travel again. Then I took some oak leaves and applied them to my side, and with God's blessing, it also healed me; yet before I was cured, I can say, as it is in Psalm 38.5-6 "My wounds smell foul and festering, I am troubled, I am deeply bent down, I go mourning all day long." I spent a lot of time alone with my wounded child in my lap, who moaned day and night, having nothing to revive her body or lift her spirits, but instead, sometimes an Indian would come and tell me, "Your master will soon knock your child in the head," then another would come and say, "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 (by my master in this writing, must be understood Quinnapin, 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 another Narragansett Indian, who took me when first I 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 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 Ind. 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: "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 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. 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 Ind. 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 the absence of his master, his dame brought him to see me. I took this to be some gracious answer to my earnest and unfeigned desire. The next day, viz. to this, the Indians returned from Medfield, all the company, for those that belonged to the other small company, came through the town that now we were at. But before they came to us, Oh! the outrageous roaring and hooping that there was. They began their din about a mile before they came to us. By their noise and hooping 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 hooping, and every time that the other went over their number, these at home gave a shout, that the very earth rung again. And thus they continued till those that had been upon the expedition were come up to the Sagamore's 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, 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 first the 28th 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 come 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.
This was the comfort I got from them, miserable comforters you all are, as he said. So for nine days, I sat on my knees with my baby in my lap until my skin was raw again; my child was close to leaving this sorrowful world, and they told me to take it out to another hut (I guess because they didn’t want to deal with such scenes), so I went with a very heavy heart and sat down with the image of death in my lap. About two hours into the night, my sweet baby passed away like a lamb on Feb. 18, 1675. It was around six years and five months old. It had been nine days since the first wound, in this miserable state, without any relief except a little cold water. I can’t help but notice how at another time I couldn’t stand to be in a room with a dead person, but now things had changed; I had to and could lie down next to my dead baby all night long. I have thought since about God’s incredible goodness in keeping my reason and senses intact during that distressing time, that I didn’t resort to evil and violent means to end my own miserable life. In the morning, when they found out my child was dead, they sent for me to come home to my master's hut (my master in this context is Quinnapin, who was a Sagamore and married to King Philip's wife's sister; I wasn’t taken by him first, but I was sold to him by another Narragansett Indian who took me when I first came out of the garrison). I went to pick up my dead child to carry it with me, but they told me to leave it; I had no choice but to go and leave it behind. After I got to my master's hut, I took the first chance I could to go look for my dead child. When I arrived, I asked them what they had done with it; they said it was on the hill. Then they showed me where it was, and I saw the ground was freshly dug, and they told me they had buried it there. I left that child in the wilderness and had to commit it, and myself in this wilderness state, to Him who is above all. After God took away this dear child, I went to see my daughter Mary, who was in the same Indian town, at a hut not too far away, although we had little freedom or opportunity to see each other. She was about ten years old and had been taken from the doorstep initially by a Praying Indian and later sold for a gun. When she saw me, she started crying; this upset them, and they wouldn’t let me get close but told me to leave; that was a heartbreaking thing for me to hear. I had one child dead, another lost in the wilderness, and the third one they wouldn’t let me approach: “You have made me childless, Joseph is gone, and Simeon is no more, and you will take Benjamin too, all these things are against me.” I couldn’t sit still in this situation and kept walking from one place to another. While I was moving around, my heart was overwhelmed with thoughts of my condition, and that I had children, and a nation I didn’t know, ruling over them. So I earnestly prayed to the Lord to consider my low state, and show me a sign for good, and if it was His blessed will, some hope of relief. And indeed quickly the Lord answered my desperate prayers in some way; as I was going back and forth mourning my situation, my son came to me and asked how I was doing. I hadn’t seen him since the town was destroyed, and I didn’t know where he was until he told me he was among a smaller group of Indians about six miles away. With tears in his eyes, he asked me whether his sister Sarah was dead; he also said he had seen his sister Mary, and urged me not to worry about him. The reason for his visit at that time was that there was a small group of Indians, about six miles from us, where he seemed to have been during his captivity; and at that time, there were some Indian forces gathered from our group, and some from theirs (among whom was my son’s master) to assault and burn Medfield. During his master’s absence, his dame brought him to see me. I took this as a gracious answer to my heartfelt and honest desire. The next day, the Indians returned from Medfield, the whole group, since those who belonged to the other smaller group passed through the town where we were at that time. But before they reached us, oh! the wild roaring and shouting that erupted. They began making noise about a mile before arriving at our place. Their sounds indicated how many they had killed (which was twenty-three at that time). Those who were at home gathered as soon as they heard the shouting, and every time the others counted their numbers, those at home shouted back, making the very ground shake. And they continued until those who had been on the mission reached the Sagamore's hut; then, oh, the horrible insulting and triumphing they displayed over some Englishmen’s scalps they had taken (as was their custom) and brought with them. I can’t help but reflect on the incredible mercy of God during those hardships when He sent me a Bible. One of the Indians who returned from the Medfield fight had brought back some loot, came to me, and asked if I wanted a Bible; he had one in his basket. I was glad to have it and asked him if he thought the Indians would let me read it. He said yes. So I took the Bible, and in that sorrowful time, it occurred to me to read first the 28th chapter of Deuteronomy, which I did, and after I finished reading it, my dark heart reacted like this: there was no mercy for me, that the blessings were gone, and the curses had taken their place, and that I had lost my chance. But the Lord helped me to keep reading until I came to Chapter 30, the first seven verses, where I found mercy was promised again if we would return to Him through repentance; and even if we were scattered from one end of the earth to the other, the Lord would gather us together and turn all those curses upon our enemies. I do not want to live to forget this Scripture and how comforting it was to me.
Now the Ind. 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, told me she should never see me again, and that she could find in her heart to run away. I wished her not to run away by any means, for we were near thirty miles from any English town, and she very big with child, and had 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, ver. ult., "Wait on the Lord, Be of good courage, and he shall strengthen thine Heart, wait I say on the Lord."
Now the Indians started talking about leaving this place, some going one way and others another. Besides me, there were nine English captives here (all children except for one woman). I had the chance to say goodbye to them. Since they were going one way and I was going another, I asked if they were genuinely praying to God for deliverance. They told me they were doing what they could, and it brought me some comfort that the Lord inspired the children to seek Him. The woman, Mrs. Joslin, said she knew she would never see me again and that she could consider escaping. I advised her against running away for any reason, as we were nearly thirty miles from the nearest English town, she was heavily pregnant and due in just a week, had a two-year-old child with her, and there were treacherous rivers to cross. We were weak from our poor and meager living conditions. I took out my Bible and asked her if she wanted to read. We opened it to Psalm 27, where we especially noticed verse 14: "Wait on the Lord; be of good courage, and He shall strengthen your heart; wait, I say, on the Lord."
THE FOURTH REMOVE
And now I must part with that little company I had. Here I parted from 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 afterward: the Lord only knows the end of them. Amongst 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 spirit 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 stripped 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 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 return to my own journey, we traveled about half a day or 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 and wet, and snowy, and hungry, and weary, and no refreshing for man but the cold ground to sit on, and our poor Indian cheer.
And now I have to say goodbye to the little group I had. Here, I parted from my daughter Mary (whom I never saw again until I found her in Dorchester after her return from captivity) and from four little cousins and neighbors, some of whom I never saw again; only the Lord knows what happened to them. Among them was also that poor woman I mentioned earlier, who met a tragic end, as some of the group later told me during my travels. She was deeply troubled about her unfortunate situation, especially being so close to giving birth, and she often begged the Indians to let her go home. They were unwilling to do so, and frustrated by her persistence, they gathered a large group around her, stripped her naked, and placed her in the center of them. After singing and dancing around her (in their cruel way) for as long as they wanted, they struck her on the head, along with the child in her arms. Once they finished, they made a fire and threw both of them into it, warning the other children with them that if they tried to escape, they would be treated the same way. The children said she didn't shed a single tear but prayed the entire time. But to return to my own journey, we traveled for about half a day or a bit more and arrived at a desolate spot in the wilderness, where there were no wigwams or inhabitants before. We reached this place around mid-afternoon, cold and wet, with snow, feeling hungry and exhausted, and the only thing we had to sit on was the cold ground and our meager Indian food.
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 hard 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. "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" (Jeremiah 31.16). 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.
Heartbreaking thoughts consumed me about my poor children, who were scattered among the wild animals in the forest. My head felt light and dizzy (perhaps from hunger, rough sleeping conditions, stress, or a combination of everything), my knees felt weak, and my body ached from sitting hunched over day and night. I can hardly describe the anguish that weighed on my spirit, but the Lord helped me express it to Him. I opened my Bible to read, and the Lord brought that precious Scripture to my mind: "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" (Jeremiah 31.16). This was a sweet comfort for me when I was on the verge of despair; many times I have sat down and wept joyfully over this verse. We stayed in this place for about four days.
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. And then, like Jehu, they marched on furiously, with their old and with their 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 they came to Banquaug river. Upon a 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 upon, I did not wet my foot (which 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" (Isaiah 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 reason for their hurried departure at this time was the approaching English army. They moved as if their lives depended on it for quite a ways, then stopped, selected some of their strongest men, and sent them back to distract the English army while the others escaped. Then, like Jehu, they continued on fiercely, taking both the old and the young with them: some carried their frail mothers, while others carried different family members. Four of them bore a large Indian on a stretcher; however, as they passed through a dense forest, they struggled to keep moving, so they took turns carrying him on their backs until they reached the Banquaug River. On a Friday, shortly after noon, we arrived at this river. Once everyone caught up and gathered together, I wanted to count how many there were, but they were too numerous and restless for me to manage it. During this journey, due to my injury, I was somewhat relieved in my burden; I only carried my knitting and two quarts of roasted meal. Feeling very weak, I asked my mistress for a spoonful of the meal, but she refused to let me taste it. They quickly got to work cutting dry trees to make rafts for crossing the river, and soon it was my turn to go over. Thanks to some brush they had laid down on the raft to sit on, I didn’t wet my feet (in contrast to many others at the other end, who were mid-leg deep), which I can only see as a blessing from God for my weakened state, especially since it was quite cold. I wasn't familiar with such struggles or dangers before. “When you pass through the waters, I will be with you, and through the rivers, they will not sweep over you” (Isaiah 43:2). A certain number of us crossed the river that night, but it was the night after the Sabbath before everyone made it across. On Saturday, they cooked an old horse's leg they had found, and we drank the broth as soon as they thought it was ready, and when it was nearly finished, they refilled it.
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. 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 they traveled with all they had, bag and baggage, and yet 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. "Oh that my people had hearkened to me, and Israel had walked in my ways, I should soon have subdued their enemies, and turned my hand against their adversaries" (Psalm 81.13-14).
The first week I was with them, I hardly ate anything; by the second week, my stomach was getting really weak from not having enough to eat. It was tough to choke down their disgusting food, but by the third week, even though I remembered how my stomach used to turn at certain things and that I'd rather starve than eat them, they actually started to taste good to me. During this time, I was busy knitting a pair of white cotton stockings for my mistress and hadn't worked on a Sunday yet. When Sunday came, they told me to get to work. I explained that it was the Sabbath and asked them to let me rest, saying I’d do even more the next day, but they threatened to punch me. Here, I can't help but notice the strange providence of God in protecting the heathen. There were hundreds of them, young and old, some sick and some lame; many had babies strapped to their backs. The majority with us at that time were women, and they carried everything they owned, yet they managed to cross the previously mentioned river. On Monday, they burned their wigwams and left. That same day, the English army followed them to that river and saw the smoke from the wigwams, but the river stopped them. God didn't give them the courage or ability to cross after us. We weren't ready for such a great blessing as victory and deliverance. If we had been, God would have found a way for the English to cross that river just like the Indians did with their women, children, and all their belongings. "Oh that my people had listened to me, and Israel had walked in my ways, I should soon have subdued their enemies, and turned my hand against their adversaries" (Psalm 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 mourning and lamenting, leaving farther my own country, and traveling into a 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 I 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, 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!
On Monday (like I mentioned), they burned their wigwams and left. It was a cold morning, and we faced a large brook that was frozen over; some people waded through it, getting wet up to their knees or higher, but others, including me, found a beaver dam where, by the grace of God, I didn't get my feet wet. I spent that day grieving and lamenting, moving further away from my homeland and into a vast, desolate wilderness, and I could understand a bit of Lot's wife's temptation when she looked back. That day we reached a large swamp, and we decided to camp there for the night. When I reached the top of the hill overlooking the swamp, I thought we had arrived at a large Indian town (though it was just our own group). The Indians were as numerous as the trees; it felt like a thousand hatchets were striking at once. Everywhere I looked, there were Indians in front of me, behind me, and on either side, with me in the middle, and no Christian soul nearby, yet how has the Lord kept me safe? Oh, the experiences I've had of God's goodness to me and my family!
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 comfort to me, such as it was. Quickly after that we came to an English path, which so took with me, that I thought I could have freely lyen down and died. That day, a little after noon, we came to Squakeag, 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 stolen 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 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 fain 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 is sweet." A solemn sight methought it was, to see fields of wheat and Indian corn forsaken and spoiled and the remainders of them to be food for our merciless enemies. That night we had a mess of wheat for our supper.
After a restless and hungry night there, we had a tough time the next day. The swamp we were stuck in felt like a deep dungeon, with a very high and steep hill in front of it. Before I reached the top of the hill, I thought my heart and legs would give out on me. Because of how weak and sore I felt, it was a hard day of travel. As we moved along, I spotted a place where some English cattle had been. That brought me a little comfort. Shortly after, we found an English path that made me feel so overwhelmed I thought I could just lie down and die. That day, a little after noon, we arrived at Squakeag, where the Indians quickly spread out over the abandoned English fields, gathering whatever they could find. Some picked up broken ears of wheat; others found ears of corn; some discovered ground nuts, and others found sheaves of wheat that had frozen together in the shock and began threshing them out. I managed to grab two ears of corn, but while I turned my back, one was stolen from me, which upset me a lot. At that moment, an Indian came over with a basket of horse liver. I asked him for a piece. "What," he said, "can you eat horse liver?" I told him I'd give it a try if he would share some, and he did, so I put it on the coals to roast. But before it was halfway done, they took half of it away from me, so I had to eat the rest with the blood still on my mouth, and it was actually quite tasty to me: "For to the hungry soul every bitter thing is sweet." It was a solemn sight to see the fields of wheat and corn abandoned and ruined, with the leftovers becoming food for our ruthless enemies. That night we had a portion of wheat for our supper.
THE EIGHTH REMOVE
On the morrow morning we must go over the river, i.e. Connecticut, to meet with King Philip. Two canoes full they had carried over; the next turn I 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 thereabout. 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 of things past, my son Joseph unexpectedly came to me. We asked of each other's welfare, bemoaning 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 may say, as Job, "Naked came I out of my mother's womb, and naked shall I return: the Lord gave, 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 "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" (Psalm 118.17-18). "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 traveled 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 aweeping, 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 Psalm 137.1, "By the Rivers of Babylon, there we sate 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 more worth 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 nowadays amongst 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 lie sucking a stinking tobacco-pipe.
Tomorrow morning we have to cross the Connecticut River to meet King Philip. They had already taken two canoes across; I was supposed to go next. But just as I was about to step into the canoe, there was a sudden commotion, and I had to step back. Instead of crossing the river, I had to travel four or five miles further up the river to the north. Some of the Indians ran one way, and others ran another. I thought the cause of this panic was that they spotted some English scouts nearby. Around noon, we stopped our journey up the river and sat down; some to eat and others to rest. As I sat among them, reflecting on the past, my son Joseph unexpectedly came to me. We asked each other how we were doing, lamenting our sad situation and the changes that had happened to us. We had a husband and father, children, sisters, friends, relatives, a house, a home, and many comforts of life. But now we could say, like Job, "Naked I came from my mother's womb, and naked I shall return: the Lord gave, and the Lord has taken away; blessed be the name of the Lord." I asked him if he would like to read, and he said he really wanted to, so I handed him my Bible. He opened it up to that comforting verse, "I shall not die but live, and declare the works of the Lord: the Lord has chastened me sore, yet he has not given me over to death" (Psalm 118:17-18). "Look here, mother," he said, "did you read this?" This gives me a chance to mention one of the main reasons I'm sharing these lines: just as the psalmist says, to declare the works of the Lord and His incredible power in guiding us, protecting us in the wilderness while in the enemy's hands, and bringing us back safely. I also feel grateful that so many comforting and relevant scriptures came to me during my distress. But back to our journey; we continued on until night fell, and in the morning, we had to cross the river to join Philip's men. When I was in the canoe, I was struck by the large number of pagans on the other bank. When I reached the shore, they crowded around me as I sat alone in their midst. I noticed they were asking each other questions, laughing, and celebrating their victories. My heart began to sink, and I started to weep—this was the first time I could remember crying in front of them. Despite all the hardship I'd faced and my heart being close to breaking, I hadn't been able to shed a tear in their presence before; I had been bewildered, like someone in shock. But now I could say, as in Psalm 137:1, "By the rivers of Babylon, there we sat down; yes, we wept when we remembered Zion." One of them asked me why I was crying. I could hardly respond but said they would kill me. "No," he said, "no one will hurt you." Then one of them handed me two spoonfuls of meal to comfort me, and another gave me half a pint of peas, which felt more valuable than bushels at another time. Then I went to see King Philip. He invited me in and asked if I wanted to smoke (a common courtesy now among both the righteous and the sinners), but that didn't suit me at all. Although I had used tobacco before, I had given it up since the first time I was captured. It seems to be a trap the devil sets to waste people's precious time. I remember, with shame, how when I used to smoke just two or three pipes, I would be eager for another right away; it's such a tempting habit. But I thank God that now I have power over it; certainly, there are many better things to do than sit around puffing on a stinky tobacco pipe.
Now the Indians gather their forces to go against Northampton. Over night one went about yelling and hooting to give notice of the design. Whereupon they fell to boiling of ground nuts, and parching of 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 master, but he bade me keep it; and with it I bought a piece of horse flesh. Afterwards 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 bear. Another asked me to knit a pair of stockings, for which she gave me a quart of peas. I boiled my peas and bear 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 upon the ground. I asked him how he could sleep so? He answered me that he was not asleep, but at prayer; and 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 the smoke of the wigwams, I thought I should have been blind. I could scarce discern one wigwam from another. There was here 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 (who owned that Mary Thurston) came running after me, and got it away again. Here was the squaw that gave me one 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 provisions I had in my travel for one day.
Now the Native Americans are gathering their forces to go against Northampton. Overnight, one person went around yelling and making noise to announce their plan. They started boiling groundnuts and roasting corn (as many as had it) for food, and in the morning, they set off. While I was staying there, Philip asked me to make a shirt for his son, which I did, and he paid me a shilling for it. I offered the money to my master, but he told me to keep it, so I used it to buy a piece of horse meat. Later, he asked me to make a cap for his son, and he invited me to dinner in return. I went, and he gave me a pancake, about the size of two fingers. It was made from crushed parched wheat, beaten, and fried in bear grease, and I thought it was the tastiest thing I had ever eaten. There was a woman who asked me to make a shirt for her husband, and she gave me a piece of bear meat for it. Another woman asked me to knit a pair of stockings, and in exchange, she gave me a quart of peas. I boiled my peas and bear meat together and invited my master and mistress to dinner; however, the proud gossip refused to eat anything since I served both in one dish, except for one bite he offered her on the tip of his knife. When I heard that my son had come to this place, I went to see him and found him lying flat on the ground. I asked him how he could sleep like that, and he replied that he wasn’t asleep but was praying, lying down so they wouldn’t notice what he was doing. I pray that he remembers these things now that he has returned safely. At this location (as the sun was getting higher), between the sun's rays and the heat, along with the smoke from the wigwams, I thought I might go blind. I could barely tell one wigwam from another. There was a woman named Mary Thurston from Medfield, who, seeing how I was, lent me a hat to wear; but as soon as I left, the woman (who owned the hat) came running after me and took it back. There was also a woman who gave me one spoonful of meal, which I kept in my pocket for safekeeping. However, despite my efforts, someone stole it but left five Indian corn kernels in its place; those kernels were the most food I had for a day during my travels.
The Indians returning from Northampton, 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 hopeless 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 come to this place.
The Native Americans coming back from Northampton brought some horses, sheep, and other items they had taken. I asked them if they could take me to Albany on one of those horses and sell me for gunpowder, as they had sometimes talked about. I felt completely hopeless about making the journey home on foot the way I had come. It was hard for me to think about all the tired steps I had taken to get to this place.
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. 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 half of corn. This was about the time that their great captain, Naananto, was killed in the Narragansett country. 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 withall 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).
But instead of heading to Albany or back home, we had to go five miles up the river, and then cross it. We stayed there for a while. There was a poor Indian living by the river who asked me to make him a shirt. After I finished, he refused to pay me anything. Since he lived by the riverside, where I often went to get water, I frequently reminded him and asked for my payment. Eventually, he told me if I made another shirt for a baby that wasn't born yet, he would give me a knife, which he did once I completed it. I brought the knife inside, and my master asked me to hand it over to him, and I was really glad that I had something they would accept and appreciate. While we were at this place, my master's maid returned; she had been away for three weeks in the Narragansett country to get corn, where they had buried some. She brought back about a peck and a half of corn. This was around the time when their great chief, Naananto, was killed in the Narragansett country. My son was about a mile away from me, so I asked for permission to go see him; they told me I could, and I set off, but soon got lost, wandering over hills and through swamps, unable to find my way to him. I can't help but marvel at the amazing power and goodness of God towards me, since, even though I was far from home and encountered all kinds of Indians I didn't know, with no Christian soul nearby, not one of them did anything harmful to me. I headed back home and met my master, who showed me the way to my son. When I reached him, I found he was not well and had a boil on his side that was bothering him a lot. We mourned for each other for a while, as God helped us, and then I went back. Upon my return, I felt as unsatisfied as I had before. I wandered around, grieving and lamenting; my spirit was about to sink with thoughts of my poor children. My son was sick, and I couldn't help but think of his sorrowful face, with no Christian friend nearby to care for him in body or spirit. And my poor girl, I had no idea where she was, or if she was sick, well, alive, or dead. In these distressing thoughts, I turned to my Bible (my great comfort during that time), and the verse that came to me was, "Cast thy burden upon the Lord, and He shall sustain thee" (Psalm 55:22).
But I was fain to go and 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 would get it from me, and there it lay all that day and night in my stinking pocket. In the morning I went to the same squaw, who had a kettle of ground nuts boiling. I asked her to let me boil my piece of bear in her 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 sometime seen bear baked very handsomely among the English, and some like it, but the thought 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.
But I was eager to go find something to satisfy my hunger, so I walked among the wigwams and entered one where a woman was very kind to me and gave me a piece of bear meat. I put it in my pocket and returned home, but I couldn't find a chance to cook it, fearing someone might take it from me, so it sat all day and night in my stinky pocket. In the morning, I visited the same woman, who was boiling a kettle of ground nuts. I asked her if I could cook my piece of bear in her kettle, and she agreed, even giving me some ground nuts to eat with it. It was such a nice treat for me. I've seen bear cooked nicely by the English, and some people like it, but just the idea that it was bear made me nervous. Yet now, what I had was so tasty that you'd think it would be enough to disgust even a wild animal.
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 in to 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 bade me come again; and told me they would buy me, if they were able, and yet these were strangers to me that I never saw before.
One extremely cold day, I couldn't find a place to sit by the fire. I went outside, unsure of what to do, but then I entered another wigwam where people were also gathered around the fire. A woman there laid down a skin for me to sit on, offered me some ground nuts, invited me to come back, and told me they would take care of me if they could, even though they were strangers I had never met before.
THE TENTH REMOVE
That day a small part of the company removed about three-quarters of a mile, intending further the next day. When they came to the place where 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 bade 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.
That day, a small part of the group moved about three-quarters of a mile, planning to go further the next day. When they reached the spot where they intended to stay and had set up their tents, I was hungry, so I went back to where we had been before to find something to eat, encouraged by the woman’s kindness, who told me to come back. When I got there, an Indian came to check on me, and when he found me, he kicked me all the way. I went home and found venison roasting that night, but they wouldn’t give me any of it. Sometimes I was treated well, and other times I faced nothing but scowls.
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 the 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 these wearisome steps that I have taken, are but a forewarning to me of the heavenly rest: "I know, O Lord, that thy judgments are right, and that thou in faithfulness hast afflicted me" (Psalm 119.75).
The next morning, they set off on their journey, planning to travel up the river for the day. I carried my load on my back, and soon we had to wade across the river and climb over exhausting hills. One hill was so steep that I had to crawl up on my knees and grab onto the twigs and bushes to prevent myself from falling back. I also felt dizzy as I walked, but I hope that all these tiring steps I've taken are just a reminder of the heavenly rest to come: "I know, O Lord, that your judgments are right, and that you have affixed me in faithfulness" (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 me "Nux," which did much rejoice my spirit. 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 catched it up, and put it into my pocket, and never let her see it afterward. 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 in the face, and bade me go; I lifted up my heart to God, hoping the redemption was not far off; and the rather because their insolency grew worse and worse.
It was a Sabbath morning when they got ready for their trip. I asked my master if he would sell me to my husband. He replied "Nux," which made me very happy. Before we left, my mistress went to the funeral of a baby, and when she returned, she found me sitting and reading my Bible. She snatched it out of my hands and threw it outside. I ran out, picked it up, and put it in my pocket, making sure she never saw it again. Then they packed their things to leave and gave me my load. I complained that it was too heavy, and she slapped me in the face and told me to go. I lifted my heart to God, hoping that redemption was near, especially since their behavior was getting worse and worse.
But the 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 gone a little way, on a sudden my mistress gives 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 gone 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; but yet back again I must go. As soon as I had the opportunity, I took my Bible to read, and that quieting Scripture came to my hand, "Be still, and know that I am God" (Psalm 46.10). 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 that 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 some sticks for my own comfort, that I might not lie a-cold; but when we came to lie down they bade me to 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 bade 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 to go out in the night, I knew not whither. Mine eyes have seen that fellow afterwards walking up and down Boston, under the appearance of a Friend 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 bade me to 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; and through the good providence of God, I had a comfortable lodging that night. In the morning, another Indian bade 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 [the] Connecticut river. We went in the morning to gather ground nuts, to the river, and went back again that night. I went with a good 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 it would be no matter if my head were off too.
But the thought of heading home (since that was our direction) really lifted my spirits and made my burden feel light, almost insignificant. However, to my shock and confusion, things quickly changed; after we had traveled a short distance, my mistress suddenly decided she couldn’t go any further. She insisted we had to turn back, saying I had to come with her. She called her sannup and wanted him to return as well, but he refused, saying he would continue on and meet us again in three days. I have to admit, this made me very frustrated and almost enraged. I felt like I would rather die than go back; I can’t express how troubled I was about it, yet I had no choice but to return. Once I had the chance, I took my Bible to read and came across the calming verse, "Be still, and know that I am God" (Psalm 46.10). That helped to settle my spirit for the moment. Still, I realized I was going to have to face a tough time ahead, especially since my master was gone—he had seemed like my best friend among the Indians through both cold and hunger, and it turned out I was right. I sat down with my heart as full as it could be, yet I was so hungry that I couldn’t sit still; so I went outside to see what I could find. As I walked among the trees, I found six acorns and two chestnuts, which provided some relief. As night fell, I gathered some sticks for warmth to avoid lying cold, but when we settled down, they told me to go outside and sleep somewhere else because they had more company than just themselves. I explained that I didn’t know where to go, but they insisted I should find another place. I told them that if I went to another wigwam, they would get angry and send me home again. Then one of the group drew his sword and threatened to stab me if I didn’t leave right away. So, I had no choice but to submit to this rude man and go out into the night, not knowing where to go. I later saw that guy walking around Boston, pretending to be a Friend Indian, along with several others like him. I tried one wigwam, but they told me there was no space. I went to another, and they said the same. Finally, an old Indian called me over, and his squaw gave me some ground nuts. She also gave me something to lay under my head, and we had a nice fire; through God’s good providence, I had a comfortable place to sleep that night. In the morning, another Indian invited me to come back that night, promising to give me six ground nuts, which I did. We stayed at that place about two miles from the Connecticut River. The next morning, we went to gather ground nuts at the river and returned that night. I carried a heavy load on my back (since they would bring all their stuff even if they were only going a short way). I told them the skin was off my back, but their only comforting reply was that it wouldn’t matter if my head were off too.
THE THIRTEENTH REMOVE
Instead of going toward the Bay, which was that 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 the 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 inquiry 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 of truth. In this place, on a cold night, as I lay by the fire, I removed a stick that kept the heat from me. A squaw moved it down again, at which I looked up, and she threw a handful of ashes in mine eyes. I thought I should have been quite blinded, and have never seen more, but lying down, the water run 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, 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 heathens, my mind quickly returned to me, which made me think of that, spoken concerning Sampson, 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 taken by them, but that failed. I hoped to be carried to Albany, as the Indians had discoursed before, 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, which many times I was wont to find. So easy a thing it is with God to dry up the streams of Scripture comfort from us. Yet I can say, that in all my sorrows and afflictions, God did not leave me to have my impatience work towards 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 Scriptures, which did a little revive me, as that [in] Isaiah 55.8: "For my thoughts are not your thoughts, neither are your ways my ways, saith the Lord." And also that [in] Psalm 37.5: "Commit thy way unto the Lord; trust also in him; and he shall bring it to pass." About this time they came yelping from Hadley, where they had killed three Englishmen, and brought one captive with them, viz. Thomas Read. 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 he should have his choice, and that all persuaded I was dead. So like were these barbarous creatures to him who was a liar from the beginning.
Instead of heading toward the Bay, which is what I wanted, I had to go with them five or six miles down the river into a dense thicket of brush, where we stayed for almost two weeks. Here, one person asked me to make a shirt for her baby, and in exchange, she gave me a bowl of broth thickened with meal made from tree bark. To make it better, she added a handful of peas and a few roasted peanuts. I hadn’t seen my son in a while, so I asked an Indian about him and when he had last seen him. He told me that his master had roasted him and that he himself had eaten a piece as big as his two fingers, saying it was very good meat. But the Lord upheld my spirit through this discouragement; I remembered their terrible tendency to lie and that none of them seemed to care about speaking the truth. One cold night, as I lay by the fire, I moved a stick that was blocking the heat from me. A woman moved it back, and when I looked up, she threw a handful of ashes in my eyes. I thought I was going to be completely blinded and would never see again, but after lying down, the water from my eyes washed the dirt away, and by morning, I could see again. Yet, in situations like this, I hope it’s not too much to say with Job, “Have pity upon me, O my friends, for the hand of the Lord has touched me.” Here, I can’t help but remember how many times, while sitting in their homes and reflecting on the past, I would suddenly jump up and run outside as if I were at home, forgetting where I was and what my situation was. But once I stepped outside and saw nothing but wilderness, trees, and a group of savage heathens, my mind would quickly come back to me, reminding me of what was said about Samson, who said, “I will go out and shake myself as at other times,” but didn’t realize that the Lord had left him. Around this time, I started to think that all my hopes for rescue would come to nothing. I thought about the English army, hoping they would come and rescue me, but that didn’t happen. I had hoped to be taken to Albany, as the Indians had spoken of before, but that didn’t happen either. I considered being sold to my husband, as my master had mentioned, but instead, my master was gone, leaving me behind, causing my spirit to sink. I asked them if I could go out and gather some sticks so I could be alone and pour out my heart to the Lord. Then I also tried to read my Bible, but I found no comfort there either, which I had often found before. It is so easy for God to cut off the flow of Scripture’s comfort from us. Still, I can say that through all my sorrows and troubles, God didn’t let my impatience turn against Him as if His ways were unjust. But I knew that He laid upon me less than I deserved. Later, before this sorrowful time ended for me, I was flipping through my Bible, and the Lord brought some Scriptures to my mind that revived me a little, such as Isaiah 55:8: “For my thoughts are not your thoughts, neither are your ways my ways, says the Lord.” And also Psalm 37:5: “Commit your way to the Lord; trust also in Him, and He shall bring it to pass.” Around this time, they came howling from Hadley, where they had killed three Englishmen and brought one captive with them, Thomas Read. They all surrounded the poor man, asking him many questions. I also wanted to see him, and when I arrived, he was crying bitterly, thinking they would soon kill him. I asked one of them if they planned to kill him, and he said they wouldn’t. Hearing this uplifted him a bit, so I asked about my husband’s well-being. He told me he had seen him at such a time in the Bay and that he was well but very sad. From this, I realized (though I had suspected it before) that everything the Indians had told me about him was just lies. Some told me he was dead, claiming they had killed him; others said he had remarried, and that the Governor wanted him to marry and told him he could choose anyone, insisting that everyone thought I was dead. These savage creatures were just like the one who was a liar from the beginning.
As I was sitting once in the wigwam here, Philip's maid came in 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 bade me give it, but still I 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 take up a stick big enough to have killed me, and struck at me with it. But I stepped out, and she struck the stick into the mat of the wigwam. But while she was pulling of it out I ran to the maid and gave her all my apron, and so that storm went over.
As I was sitting in the wigwam one day, Philip's maid came in with the child in her arms and asked me for a piece of my apron to make a flap for it. I told her I wouldn’t give her any. Then my mistress told me to give it to her, but I still said no. The maid threatened that if I didn’t give her a piece, she would rip it off. I told her I would rip her coat then. At that, my mistress stood up, grabbed a stick that could have seriously hurt me, and swung it at me. I dodged, and she ended up hitting the stick into the mat of the wigwam. While she was pulling it out, I ran over to the maid and gave her the whole apron, and that settled the situation.
Hearing that my son was come to this place, I went to see him, and told him his father was well, but 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 awhile 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 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.
Hearing that my son had come to this place, I went to see him and told him that his father was well but feeling down. He said he was just as upset for his father as he was for himself. I was surprised by his words because I thought I had enough weighing on my mind regarding myself that I wouldn't focus on my husband or anyone else since they were safe with their friends. He also told me that not long before, his master, along with other Indians, was heading to the French for gunpowder, but on the way, the Mohawks encountered them and killed four members of their group, forcing the rest to turn back. It could have been worse for him if he had been sold to the French compared to staying with the Indians.
I went to see an English youth in this place, one John Gilbert of Springfield. I found him lying without doors, upon the ground. I asked 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 and 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 "That we may be delivered from unreasonable and wicked men" (2 Thessalonians 3.2). 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 him 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 taking 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, "I am in a great strait" (2 Samuel 24.14). If I keep in, I must die with hunger, and if I go out, I must be knocked in 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 that 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.
I went to check on an English guy named John Gilbert from Springfield. I found him lying outside on the ground. I asked him how he was doing, and he told me he was really sick from a bad stomach ache after eating too much blood. They had kicked him out of the hut, and with him was an Indian baby, nearly dead (whose parents had been killed), on a freezing cold day without any fire or clothes. The young man only had on his shirt and vest. It was a sight that could break any hard heart. There they lay shivering in the cold, the young man curled up like a dog, and the baby stretched out with dirt all over its face, yet still alive and groaning. I told John to try to find some fire. He said he couldn't stand, but I kept urging him, so he wouldn't just stay there and die. After much effort, I finally got him to a fire and went home. As soon as I got back, his master's daughter came looking for me to find out what I had done with him. I told her I had gotten him to a fire in a certain place. I really needed to pray for protection from "unreasonable and wicked men" (2 Thessalonians 3:2). To satisfy her curiosity, I went with her to see John; but by the time I got home again, word was out that I was trying to run away with the English guy. As soon as I walked in, they started yelling at me, asking where I had been and what I had done, saying they would hurt him. I told them I was just checking on him, and that I wasn’t running away. They accused me of lying and grabbed a hatchet, saying they would knock me down if I left again, so they confined me to the hut. I can relate to David when he said, "I am in a great strait" (2 Samuel 24:14). If I stayed inside, I would starve, and if I went outside, I'd get hurt. This awful situation lasted for that day and half of the next. Then the Lord remembered me, whose mercies are great. An Indian came to me with a pair of socks that were too big for him, and he asked me to unravel them and knit them to fit him. I was willing and asked my mistress if I could go with him a little way; she said yes, and I was really relieved to hear that I had my freedom back. So I went with him, and he gave me some roasted ground nuts, which lifted my weak spirits.
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, "For a small moment have I forsaken thee, but with great mercies will I gather thee" (Isaiah 54.7). 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 awhile 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 any thing 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.
Once he was out of my sight, I had the time and freedom to look at my Bible, which was my guide during the day and my comfort at night. The comforting verse came to mind, "For a small moment have I forsaken thee, but with great mercies will I gather thee" (Isaiah 54.7). The Lord helped me through various times and fulfilled this precious promise, along with many others. Then my son came to visit, and I asked his master if he could stay with me for a bit so I could comb his hair and check on him, as he was nearly overwhelmed with lice. After I finished, he told me he was very hungry, but I had nothing to give him, so I told him to go into the wigwams as he passed by to see if he could find anything. He did, but it seems he stayed a bit too long; his master got mad at him, beat him, and then sold him. He came rushing back to tell me he had a new master, and that he had already given him some groundnuts. I then went with him to meet his new master, who said he cared for him and that he wouldn’t go hungry. His master took him away, and I never saw him again until I spotted him at Piscataqua in Portsmouth.
That night they bade 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 bade 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 ail with looking upward. Oh, Lord, I am oppressed; undertake for me" (Isaiah 38.14). I could tell the Lord, as Hezekiah, "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 toward one or other; yet I saw how in my walk with God, I had been a careless creature. As David said, "Against thee, thee only have I sinned": and I might say with the poor publican, "God be merciful unto me a sinner." On 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." I remembered 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 then 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 mind, "For a small moment have I forsaken thee, but with great mercies will I gather thee."
That night, they asked me to leave the wigwam again. My mistress's baby was sick, and it died that night, which at least meant there was more room. I went to another wigwam where they welcomed me in, gave me a skin to lie on, and served me a meal of venison and groundnuts, a favored dish among them. The next day, they buried the baby, and afterward, both in the morning and evening, a group came to mourn and wail with her; although I admit I couldn't really share in their sorrow. I spent many sad days there, often alone. "Like a crane or a swallow, I chattered; I mourned like a dove, my eyes ached from looking upward. Oh Lord, I am oppressed; please help me" (Isaiah 38.14). I could tell the Lord, as Hezekiah did, "Remember now, O Lord, I beg you, how I have walked before you in truth." Now I had time to reflect on all my actions: my conscience didn't accuse me of wrongdoing towards others; still, I realized how carelessly I had walked with God. As David said, "Against you, you only, have I sinned," and I could echo the humble tax collector's words, "God, be merciful to me, a sinner." On Sundays, I would watch the sun and think about how people were heading to the house of God to refresh their souls; then returning home to refresh their bodies too; but I was missing both, and could say like the poor prodigal, "He longed to fill his stomach with the pods that the pigs were eating, but no one gave him anything" (Luke 15.16). I must confess with him, "Father, I have sinned against Heaven and in your sight." I remembered how, the night before and after Sundays, when my family, relatives, and neighbors were with us, we could pray and sing, then enjoy good food from God’s creations, and finally rest comfortably in our beds; but instead, I had only a little slop for my body and, like a pig, had to lie on the ground. I can't fully express to anyone the sorrow in my spirit; the Lord knows it. Yet that comforting scripture would often come to mind, "For a brief moment, I forsook you, but with great compassion, I will gather you."
THE FOURTEENTH REMOVE
Now must we pack up and be gone from this thicket, bending our course toward the Baytowns; 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 to 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 into 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 saw 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 ate 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.
Now we have to pack up and leave this thicket, heading toward the Baytowns. I have nothing to eat along the way today except a few crumbs of cake that an Indian gave to my girl the day we were captured. She gave it to me, and I put it in my pocket; it stayed there until it got so moldy (due to bad baking) that I couldn’t tell what it was made of. It crumbled apart and became so dry and hard that it felt like little pebbles, and it refreshed me many times when I was about to faint. I thought to myself as I put it in my mouth that if I ever returned, I would tell the world how blessed I felt by such simple food. As we traveled, they killed a deer with a young one inside her. They gave me a piece of the fawn, and it was so young and tender that I could eat the bones as well as the flesh, and I still thought it was really good. When night came, we sat down; it rained, but they quickly built a bark wigwam, and I stayed dry that night. In the morning, I saw many of them had lain in the rain all night because they were steaming. The Lord was merciful to me many times, and I had better fare than many of them. In the morning, they took the blood of the deer, put it into the stomach, and boiled it. I couldn’t eat any of that, though they enjoyed it. Yet they were very particular about other things; when I fetched water and accidentally dipped the dish I used into the kettle of water I brought, they threatened to knock me down, saying it was a dirty trick.
THE FIFTEENTH REMOVE
We went on our travel. I having got one 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 burden more on my back than my spirit. We came to Banquang 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 a little victuals. I cannot but think what a wolvish 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 hours after, and yet I should quickly do the same again. And after I was thoroughly hungry, I was never again satisfied. For though sometimes it fell out, that I 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 which we do not take notice of, or understand till we are afflicted) "Thou shalt eat and not be satisfied" (Micah 6.14). Now might I see more than ever before, the miseries that sin hath brought upon us. Many times I should be ready to run against the heathen, but the Scripture would quiet me again, "Shall there be evil in a City and the Lord hath not done it?" (Amos 3.6). The Lord help me to make a right improvement of His word, and that I might learn that great lesson: "He hath showed thee (Oh 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" (Micah 6.8-9).
We set off on our journey. I had a handful of peanuts to get me through the day, and they gave me my load, so I went on happily (thinking about going home), carrying more on my back than I felt in my heart. We reached the Banquang river again that day, where we stayed for a few days. Sometimes someone would give me a pipe, another would share a bit of tobacco, and another would offer a little salt; I would trade these for some food. I can't help but think about the insatiable hunger people feel when they're starving. Many times, when they gave me hot food, I was so eager to eat that I burned my mouth, which bothered me for hours afterward, but I would do it again quickly. Even after I was completely hungry, I was never satisfied. Sometimes I would get enough food and eat until I couldn't eat anymore, yet I still felt as unsatisfied as when I started. Now I clearly see the truth of that scripture (there are many scriptures we don’t notice or understand until we're struggling): "You shall eat but not be satisfied" (Micah 6:14). I could see more than ever the suffering that sin has brought upon us. Many times, I felt like confronting the heathens, but the scripture calmed me again: "If a disaster occurs in a city, has the Lord not done it?" (Amos 3:6). Lord, help me to rightly understand Your word and to learn that important lesson: "He has shown you, O man, what is good. And what does the Lord require of you but to do justly, to love mercy, and to walk humbly with your God? Hear the rod, and who has appointed it" (Micah 6:8-9).
THE SIXTEENTH REMOVAL
We began this remove with wading over Banquang river: the water was up to the 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 my distress the Lord gave me experience of the truth, and goodness of that promise, "When thou passest through the waters, I will be with thee; and through the rivers, they shall not overflow thee" (Isaiah 43.2). Then I sat down to put on my stockings and shoes, with the tears running down mine eyes, and 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 Wachusett 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 recruit my feeble knees, and aching heart. Yet it pleased them to go but one mile that night, and there we stayed 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 neckcloths, 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 foul looks of those heathens, which much damped my spirit again.
We started this journey by wading across the Banquang River: the water was up to our knees, the current was very fast, and it was so cold that I thought it would cut me in half. I felt so weak and feeble that I stumbled as I walked, thinking I would finally meet my end after dealing with so many hardships. The Indians laughed as they watched me stagger along; but in my distress, the Lord reminded me of the truth and goodness of that promise, "When you pass through the waters, I will be with you; and through the rivers, they shall not overflow you" (Isaiah 43.2). Then I sat down to put on my stockings and shoes, tears streaming down my face and sorrowful thoughts in my heart, but I got up to continue with them. Soon, an Indian approached us and informed them that I needed to go to Wachusett to see my master, as a letter had arrived from the council to the Sagamores about redeeming the captives, and that there would be another in fourteen days, and I needed to be ready. My heart had been so heavy that I could barely speak or walk, but now it felt so light that I could run. My strength seemed to return, revitalizing my weak knees and aching heart. Still, they decided to travel only one mile that night, and we stayed there for two days. During that time, a group of about thirty Indians arrived on horseback. My heart raced at first, thinking they were Englishmen, as they were dressed in English clothes, with hats, white neckcloths, sashes around their waists, and ribbons on their shoulders. But as they got closer, the difference between the beautiful faces of Christians and the ugly looks of those heathens greatly dampened my spirits again.
THE SEVENTEENTH REMOVE
A comfortable remove it was to me, because of my hopes. They gave me a pack, and along we went cheerfully; but quickly my will proved more than my strength; having little or no refreshing, my strength failed me, and my spirits were almost quite gone. Now may I say with David "I am poor and needy, and my heart is wounded within me. I am gone like the 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" (Psalm 119.22-24). 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 horses 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 in; he took a dish, and gave me one spoonful of samp, and bid me take as much of the broth as I would. Then I put some of the hot water to the samp, and drank it up, and my spirit came again. He gave me also a piece of the ruff or ridding of the small guts, and I broiled it on the coals; and now may I say with Jonathan, "See, I pray you, how mine eyes have been enlightened, because I tasted a little of this honey" (1 Samuel 14.29). Now is my spirit revived again; though means be never so inconsiderable, yet if the Lord bestow His blessing upon them, they shall refresh both soul and body.
It was a comfortable distance for me, thanks to my hopes. They gave me a pack, and we set off happily; but soon my determination outpaced my strength. With little or no rest, my energy faded, and my spirits were almost completely gone. Now I can say with David, "I am poor and needy, and my heart is wounded within me. I am like a shadow that disappears; I am tossed around like a locust; my knees are weak from fasting, and my body lacks fat" (Psalm 119.22-24). At night we arrived at an Indian village, and the locals were sitting by a wigwam chatting, but I was nearly exhausted and could hardly speak. I dropped my load, went into the wigwam, and there I saw an Indian boiling horse’s feet (they usually ate the meat first and when the feet were old and dry, and they had nothing else, they would cut off the feet and use them). I asked him for a little of his broth or the water he was boiling. He took a dish and gave me one spoonful of cornmeal, telling me to take as much broth as I wanted. I added some hot water to the cornmeal, drank it, and my spirits lifted. He also gave me a piece of the intestines, and I grilled it over the coals; and now I can say with Jonathan, "See, I pray you, how my eyes have been opened, because I tasted a little of this honey" (1 Samuel 14.29). Now my spirit is renewed again; even if the means are insignificant, if the Lord blesses them, they will 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 it was. Then we came to another Indian town, where we stayed all night. In this 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 into 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 to another wigwam, where there were two of the English children; the squaw was boiling horses feet; then 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, but lay sucking, gnawing, chewing and slabbering 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. Then I may say as Job 6.7, "The things that my soul refused to touch are as my sorrowful meat." Thus the Lord made that pleasant refreshing, which another time would have been an abomination. Then I went home to my mistress's wigwam; and they told me I disgraced my master with begging, and if I did so any more, they would knock me in the head. I told them, they had as good knock me in head as starve me to death.
We picked up our packs and kept going, but it was a grueling day for me. As we walked, I saw an Englishman lying dead on the ground, completely naked, but I didn’t know who he was. Then we reached another Indian town where we stayed overnight. In this town, there were four English children held captive, and one of them was my own sister. I went to check on her, and she was doing okay, considering her situation. I wanted to stay that night with her, but the people who owned her wouldn’t allow it. Next, I went into another wigwam where they were boiling corn and beans, which looked really good, but I wasn’t able to taste any. Then, I went to another wigwam where there were two English children. The woman there was boiling horse's feet; she cut off a small piece for me and gave a piece to one of the English kids too. I was very hungry and quickly finished mine, but the child couldn’t bite into theirs—it was too tough and sinewy—so they were just sucking, gnawing, and chewing on it. I took it from the child and ate it myself, and it tasted good to me. I can relate to Job 6:7: "The things that my soul refused to touch are like my sorrowful food." So, God turned something that would normally be disgusting into something refreshing. Then I went home to my mistress's wigwam, and they told me I was embarrassing my master by begging, and if I did it again, they would hit me in the head. I told them they might as well hit me in the head as let me starve to death.
THE NINETEENTH REMOVE
They said, when we went out, that we must travel to Wachusett this day. But a bitter weary day I had of it, traveling now three days together, without resting any day between. At last, after many weary steps, I saw Wachusett hills, but many miles off. Then we came to a great swamp, through which we traveled, up to the 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 spake true? He answered, "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 Wachusett, where he was: and glad I was 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 the 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: "He made them also to be pitied of all those that carried them captives" (Psalm 106.46).
They said, when we went out, that we had to travel to Wachusett today. But it was a really exhausting day for me, traveling for three days straight without resting any day in between. Finally, after many tiring steps, I saw the Wachusett hills, but they were still quite far away. Then we reached a big swamp, where we trudged through mud and water up to our knees, which was tough going for someone already worn out. Just when I thought I might collapse and never get back up, I realized, as it says in Psalm 94:18, "When my foot slipped, your mercy, O Lord, held me up." As we made our way, I felt alive but lacking in spirit. Philip, who was with me, came up, took my hand, and said, "In two weeks, you'll be the mistress again." I asked him if he was telling the truth. He replied, "Yes, and soon you'll see your master again; he’s been away from us for three weeks." After many more tiring steps, we finally reached Wachusett, where he was, and I was so happy to see him. He asked me when I last washed, and I told him not this month. Then he got some water himself, told me to wash, and handed me a mirror to see how I looked. He also asked his wife to give me something to eat. So, she gave me a bowl of beans and meat, along with a little nut cake. I felt wonderfully refreshed by this kindness shown to me: "He made them also to be pitied by all those who took them captive" (Psalm 106:46).
My master had three squaws, living sometimes with one, and sometimes with another one, this old squaw, at whose wigwam I was, and with whom my master had been those three weeks. Another was Wattimore [Weetamoo] with whom I had lived and served all this while. A severe and proud dame she was, bestowing every day in dressing herself neat as much time as any of the gentry of the land: powdering her hair, and painting her face, going with 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 the time I was refreshed by the old squaw, with whom my master was, Weetamoo's maid came to call me home, at which I fell aweeping. Then the old squaw told me, to encourage me, that if I wanted victuals, I should come to her, and that I should lie there in her wigwam. Then I went with the maid, and quickly came again and lodged there. The squaw laid a mat under me, and a good rug over me; the first time I had any such kindness showed me. I understood that Weetamoo thought that if she should let me go and serve with the old squaw, she would 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.
My master had three wives, spending time with each of them — sometimes with this older woman, where I was staying, who had been with him for the past three weeks. Another one was Wattimore [Weetamoo], with whom I had lived and served all this time. She was a strict and proud lady, taking as much time each day to dress neatly as the gentry of the land: powdering her hair, painting her face, wearing necklaces, and putting jewels in her ears and bracelets on her arms. Once she was dressed, she would work on making belts out of wampum and beads. The third wife was younger and had two children. After I was refreshed by the older woman I was with, Weetamoo's maid came to take me home, and I started to cry. The older woman then encouraged me, saying that if I needed food, I could come to her place and stay in her wigwam. So I went with the maid, but I quickly returned and stayed there. The older woman laid a mat under me and covered me with a nice rug; it was the first time I had received such kindness. I understood that Weetamoo worried that if she allowed me to go and serve the older woman, she might lose not only my help but also the redemption pay. Hearing this made me feel hopeful that, in God's own time, this painful situation would come to an end. Then an Indian came and asked me to knit him three pairs of stockings, for which I received a hat and a silk handkerchief. Another person asked me to make her a shift, and she gave me an apron in return.
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 are all very well but melancholy." They brought me two biscuits, and a pound of tobacco. The tobacco I quickly 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 began he 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, in 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 bade me stand up, and said they were the General Court. They bid me speak what I thought he would give. Now knowing that all 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 that message to Boston, that for twenty pounds I should be redeemed. It was a Praying Indian that wrote their letter for them. 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, "There was a famine in Samaria, and behold they besieged it, until an ass's head was sold for four-score pieces of silver, and the fourth part of a cab of dove's dung for five pieces of silver" (2 Kings 6.25). He expounded this place to his brother, and showed him that it was lawful to eat that in a famine which is not at another time. And now, says he, he will eat horse with any Indian of them all. There was another Praying Indian, who when he had done all the mischief that he could, betrayed his own father into the English hands, thereby to purchase his own life. Another Praying Indian was at Sudbury fight, though, as he deserved, he was afterward hanged for it. There was another Praying Indian, so wicked and cruel, as to wear a string about his neck, strung with Christians' fingers. Another Praying Indian, when they went to Sudbury fight, went with them, and his squaw also with him, with her papoose at her back. 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 deerskin, with the company round him in a ring who kneeled, and 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 deerskin made a speech, and all manifested assent to it; and so they did many times together. Then they bade him with the 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 returned again. Then they all sang. Then they gave him two guns, in either hand one. And so he on the deerskin began again; and at the end of every sentence in his speaking, they all assented, humming or muttering with their mouths, and striking upon the ground with their hands. Then they bade him with the two guns go out of the ring again; which he did, a little way. Then they called him in again, but he made a stand. So they called him with greater earnestness; but he stood reeling and wavering as if he knew not whither 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 either hand a gun. As soon as he came in they all sang and rejoiced exceedingly a while. And then he upon the deerskin, made another speech unto which they all assented in a rejoicing manner. And so they ended their business, and forthwith went to Sudbury fight. 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 had killed two captains and almost an hundred men. One Englishman they brought along 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 had not lost 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. Whither it were so or no, I cannot tell, but so it proved, for quickly they began to fall, and so held on that summer, till they came to utter ruin. They came home on a Sabbath day, and the Powaw that kneeled upon the deer-skin came home (I may say, without 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 pillowbere. 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 their 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 pan to fry it in; 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.
Then Tom and Peter came with the second letter from the council about the captives. Even though they were Indians, I held their hands and broke down in tears. My heart was so full that I couldn't say anything at first; but once I composed myself, I asked how my husband was and how all my friends were doing. They said, "They are all well but feeling sad." They gave me two biscuits and a pound of tobacco. I quickly gave away the tobacco. When it was all gone, one of them asked me for a pipe of tobacco. I told him I had none left. Then he started to yell and threaten. I replied that when my husband arrived, I would give him some. "Curse that guy," he said, "I'll smash his head if he comes here." Yet in the same breath, they also said that if a hundred came without guns, they wouldn't harm them. They were so unpredictable and acted like madmen. So, fearing the worst, I didn't dare send a message to my husband, even though I considered the possibility of him coming to rescue me, not knowing what might happen next. I could trust them as little as the master they served. When the letter arrived, the tribal leaders gathered to discuss the captives and called me over to ask how much my husband would pay to free me. When I arrived, I sat down among them, as was customary. Then they asked me to stand up and said they were the General Court. They wanted me to say what I thought he would pay. Knowing that everything we had was destroyed by the Indians, I felt really torn. I thought if I suggested a small amount, it would be dismissed and would jeopardize everything; if I suggested a large sum, I didn't know how it could be raised. But on a whim, I said "Twenty pounds," while hoping they'd settle for less. They wouldn’t consider that, though, and sent a message to Boston that I should be redeemed for twenty pounds. A Praying Indian wrote their letter for them. Another Praying Indian told me that his brother wouldn’t eat horsemeat; his conscience was so sensitive (even though he didn't seem to care about the destruction of poor Christians). He said he read this scripture to his brother, "There was a famine in Samaria, and behold, they besieged it, until an ass's head was sold for eighty pieces of silver, and the fourth part of a cab of dove's dung for five pieces of silver" (2 Kings 6.25). He explained to his brother that it was acceptable to eat things during a famine that one wouldn't otherwise eat. Now, he said, his brother would eat horse with any Indian. There was another Praying Indian who, after causing as much trouble as he could, betrayed his own father to the English in order to save his own life. Another Praying Indian was part of the Sudbury fight and, as he deserved, he was later hanged for it. There was also another Praying Indian who was so evil and cruel that he wore a string around his neck made of Christians' fingers. Another Praying Indian went with the group to fight at Sudbury, bringing his wife and child along. Before they went to that fight, they gathered a company to perform a pow-wow. The procedure was as follows: one person knelt on a deer skin, surrounded by others who knelt in a circle, striking the ground with their hands and sticks, and muttering or humming. Besides the one on the deer skin, another stood with a gun. The person on the skin made a speech, and everyone showed agreement; they repeated this several times. Then they asked the one with the gun to step out of the circle, which he did. But when he was outside, they called him back; he hesitated, but they called him in again more insistently. Eventually, he came back, and they all sang. They handed him two guns, one in each hand. The one on the deer skin started again, and at the end of each sentence, everyone agreed, humming or muttering and striking the ground. Then they asked him with the two guns to step out of the circle again, which he did a short distance. They called him back, but he hesitated once more. As they called him urgently, he stood swaying, unsure of where to go. They called him with great intensity until he staggered back in, arms stretched out with the guns. As soon as he entered, they all sang and cheered for a while. Then he on the deer skin made another speech, which they all approved of happily. They concluded their business and went off to the fight at Sudbury. It seemed to me they went without any doubts, believing they would win, and they returned home with what they claimed was a great victory. They reported that they had killed two captains and nearly a hundred men. An Englishman they brought back confirmed this, saying that it was true because they had really caused a lot of destruction at Sudbury, which indeed turned out to be the case. However, they returned without the usual joy and celebration that accompanied their victories in the past, instead appearing almost like defeated dogs. I could hardly tell they were upset about the loss of their own men; they claimed to have lost only five or six, and I didn’t notice any except in one wigwam. When they left, they acted as if they had been told by the devil that they would win; now they seemed as if the devil told them they would fail. Whether that was true or not, I can’t say, but that’s how it turned out, as they soon began to suffer losses and continued that way throughout the summer until they were completely ruined. They returned home on a Sunday, and the pow-wow leader came back (I could say without exaggerating) as black as the devil. When my master arrived home, he came to me and asked me to make a shirt for his child out of a fine pillowcase. Around that time, an Indian approached me and invited me to his wigwam that night, saying he would give me some pork and groundnuts. I went, and while I was eating, another Indian warned me that he seemed like a good friend, but he had killed two Englishmen at Sudbury, and their bloody clothes were lying behind me. I turned to see bloody clothes with bullet holes. Still, the Lord didn’t allow this wretch to harm me. Instead, he often helped me out; five or six times he and his wife provided for my weak body. Whenever I visited their wigwam, they would always offer me something, even though they were complete strangers to me. Another woman gave me a piece of fresh pork and some salt to go with it and lent me her pan to fry it in. I can still remember how sweet and delightful that little meal tasted to me to this day. We often take common blessings for granted when we have them abundantly.
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 say now amongst themselves, that the governor 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 being not far from the place where we now were, and hearing that I was here, desired her master to let her come and see me, and he was willing to it, and would go with her; but she being ready before him, 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 afterward at Boston. The Indians now began to come from all quarters, against their merry dancing day. Among 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 said, "I hope we shall hear some good news shortly." I could hear how earnestly my sister desired to see me, and I as earnestly desired to see her; and yet neither of us could get an opportunity. My daughter was also now about a mile off, and I had not seen her in nine or ten weeks, as I had not seen my sister since our first taking. I earnestly desired them to let me go and see them: yea, I entreated, begged, and persuaded them, but 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.
It was their usual habit to hide after causing any trouble, to avoid being caught; and they did the same this time. We traveled about three or four miles, where they built a large wigwam, big enough to fit a hundred Indians, in preparation for a big day of dancing. They whispered among themselves that the governor would be so angry about his loss at Sudbury that he wouldn’t send anyone to check on the captives, which made me feel sad and anxious. My sister, not far from where we were, learned I was there and asked her master to let her come see me. He agreed and said he would go with her. However, she was ready before him and decided to go ahead. She got within a mile or two of the place when he caught up with her and started shouting as if he had lost his mind, forcing her to go back in the rain. I didn’t see her again until I saw her in Charlestown. But the Lord made sure many of them faced justice for their wrongdoings; this Indian, her master, was later hanged in Boston. The Indians began to arrive from all over for their festive day of dancing. Among them was goodwife Kettle. I told her my heart was so heavy it felt like it might break. “So is mine,” she replied, but added, “I hope we’ll hear some good news soon.” I could tell how much my sister wanted to see me, and I wanted to see her just as much; yet neither of us got the chance. My daughter was also about a mile away, and I hadn’t seen her in nine or ten weeks, just as I hadn’t seen my sister since we were first captured. I desperately asked them to let me see them; indeed, I pleaded, begged, and tried to convince them to let me see my daughter, but they were so heartless that they wouldn’t allow it. They abused their power while they had it, but thanks to the Lord's amazing mercy, their time was running out.
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. When they came near, I was abroad. Though I saw them not, they presently called me in, and bade 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 they asked me what was the matter? I told them I thought they had killed the Englishman (for they had in the meantime informed 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 what they could do. Then they let them 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. 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. In the morning Mr. Hoar invited the Sagamores to dinner; but when we went to get it ready we found that they had stolen the greatest part of the provision Mr. Hoar had brought, out of his bags, in the night. And we may see the wonderful power of God, in that one passage, in that when there was such a great number of the Indians 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 in 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 were some matchit Indian that did it. Oh, that we could believe that there is 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 very 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 laces sewed at the tail of it; he had his silver buttons, his white stockings, his garters were hung round with shillings, and he had girdles of wampum upon his head and shoulders. She had a kersey coat, and 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 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 it was almost night, throwing out 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 liquors. Then Mr. Hoar called his own Indians, Tom and Peter, and bid them go and see whether he would promise it before them three; and if he would, he should have it; which he did, and he had it. Then Philip smelling the business called me to him, and asked me what I would give him, to tell me some good news, and speak a good word for me. I told him I could not tell what to give him. I would [give him] anything I had, and asked him what he would have? He said two coats and twenty shillings in money, and half a bushel of seed corn, and some tobacco. I thanked him for his love; but I knew the good news as well as the crafty fox. My master after he had 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 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, 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 while that I was amongst 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 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, God many times leaving us most in the dark, when deliverance is nearest. 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 things, viz. that ever I should go home again; and that I must go, leaving my children behind me in the wilderness; so that sleep was now almost departed from mine eyes.
On a Sabbath day, about an hour into the afternoon, Mr. John Hoar arrived (with the council's permission and his own eager spirit), along with the two mentioned Indians, Tom and Peter, carrying their third letter from the council. When they got close, I was outside. Although I couldn't see them, they called me in immediately and told me to sit down and not move. Then they grabbed their guns and ran off quickly, as if an enemy were near, firing their guns rapidly. I showed visible distress, and they asked what was wrong. I told them I thought they had killed the Englishman (since they had told me that one had arrived). They assured me no one was harmed. They shot over, under, and in front of his horse, demonstrating their skills as they pleased. Afterward, they allowed the Englishman to come to their wigwams. I asked to see him, but they wouldn’t let me. I had to wait at their pleasure. Once they had chatted enough, they allowed me to approach him. We inquired about each other’s well-being, my husband, and all my friends. He let me know they were all fine and would be glad to see me. Among the items my husband sent, there was a pound of tobacco, which I sold for nine shillings; many Indians, lacking tobacco, smoked hemlock and ground ivy instead. Anyone who thought I was asking for tobacco was mistaken; thanks to God's grace, that desire was overcome. I then asked them if I could go home with Mr. Hoar. They all said no, one after another, and since it was night, we settled down with that answer. In the morning, Mr. Hoar invited the Sagamores to dinner; however, when we went to prepare it, we discovered that most of the provisions Mr. Hoar had brought were stolen from his bags during the night. This highlights the amazing power of God—despite a large group of Indians being present, hungry for food, and only Mr. Hoar and I being there, they did not harm us or take what we had, which included not only food but also trading cloth, part of the twenty pounds we had agreed upon. Instead of causing us any trouble, they seemed embarrassed about the theft and claimed it was some mischievous Indian who did it. Oh, that we could believe that nothing is too hard for God! God showed His power over the heathens in this incident, just as He did over the hungry lions when Daniel was thrown into the den. Mr. Hoar called them to dinner early, but they barely ate, preoccupied with getting dressed and ready for their dance, performed by eight of them—four men and four women. My master and mistress were among them. He wore a holland shirt with large laces sewn to the back, silver buttons, white stockings, garters adorned with shillings, and wampum girdles on his head and shoulders. She wore a kersey coat covered with wampum girdles from the waist up. Her arms, from the elbows to the hands, were adorned with bracelets; there were multiple necklaces around her neck and various jewels in her ears. She had red stockings, white shoes, her hair powdered, and her face painted red, which used to be black. All the dancers were similarly dressed. Two others sang and tapped a kettle for music. They bounced up and down one after another, with a kettle of water in the center, heated over some embers, to drink from when thirsty. They kept going until nearly night, tossing wampum to onlookers. At night, I asked them again if I could go home. They all unanimously said no unless my husband came for me. When we laid down, my master stepped out of the wigwam, then soon sent in an Indian named James the Printer, who told Mr. Hoar that my master would let me go home the next day if he could have a pint of liquor. Mr. Hoar then called his own Indians, Tom and Peter, and asked them to see if he would promise this in front of the three of them, and he did. Subsequently, Philip, sensing something, called me over and asked what I would give him for some good news and to speak kindly on my behalf. I told him I didn’t know what to offer him. I’d give him anything I had and asked what he wanted. He asked for two coats, twenty shillings in cash, half a bushel of seed corn, and some tobacco. I thanked him for his kindness, but I was aware of the good news just as well as the clever fox knew the truth. After he got his drink, my master burst back into the wigwam, called for Mr. Hoar, raised a toast to him, claiming he was a good man, and then would suddenly shout, "Hang that rogue." Almost drunk, he would toast Mr. Hoar and then immediately say he should be hanged again. Then he called for me. I trembled to hear him but had to approach him, and he raised a glass to me without being rude. He was the first Indian I saw drunk during my time among them. Finally, his woman ran out, and he chased her around the wigwam, money jingling at his knees. But she escaped. He then turned to an old woman instead, and by God's mercy, we were not troubled any further that night. Still, I didn’t have a good night’s sleep; I can honestly say I couldn’t rest for three nights in a row. The night before the letter from the council arrived, I couldn’t relax at all, overwhelmed with fear and anxiety, as God often leaves us in darkness just when deliverance is closest. Yes, during this time, I couldn’t find peace night or day. The next night, I felt immense joy with Mr. Hoar's arrival and such good news. But on the third night, I was consumed with thoughts about whether I would ever go home again and that I would have to leave my children behind in the wilderness, making it nearly impossible for me to sleep.
On Tuesday morning they called their general court (as they call it) to consult and determine, whether I should go home or no. And they all as one man did seemingly consent to it, that I should go home; except Philip, who would not come among them.
On Tuesday morning, they convened their general court (as they refer to it) to discuss and decide whether I should go home or not. They all seemed to agree that I should go home, except for Philip, who refused to join them.
But before I go any further, I would take leave to mention a few remarkable passages of providence, which I took special notice of in my afflicted time.
But before I continue, I’d like to point out a few notable instances of fate that I took special note of during my difficult times.
1. 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 take several and destroy them, and the enemy in such distress for food that our men might track them by their rooting in the earth for ground nuts, whilst they were flying for their lives. I say, that then our army should want provision, and be forced to leave their pursuit and return 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 order 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 shall they go captive, with the first that go captive. It is the Lord's doing, and it should be marvelous in our eyes.
1. After the long march, not long after the fort battle, our English army was large and chasing the enemy, close enough to capture and destroy several of them. The enemy was so desperate for food that our men could track them by their digging in the ground for edible roots while they fled for their lives. At that moment, our army ran out of supplies and had to stop their pursuit and head back home. The very next week, the enemy attacked our town like bears without their cubs or like ferocious wolves, slaughtering us and our livestock. But what can I say? It seemed like God abandoned His people and arranged everything for His own purpose. Could there be trouble in the city that the Lord hasn’t allowed? They are not sorry for Joseph's suffering, so they will be the first to go into captivity. It’s the Lord’s work, and it should amaze us.
2. I cannot but remember how the Indians derided the slowness, and 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 did they scoff at us, as if the English would be a quarter of a year getting ready.
2. I can’t help but remember how the Indians mocked the slowness and foolishness of the English army when it was getting ready. After the destruction in Lancaster and Medfield, as I was with them, they asked me when I thought the English army would come after them. I told them I didn’t know. “Maybe they’ll come in May,” they said. They laughed at us, as if the English would take a whole quarter of a year to get ready.
3. 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 Banquang river, where they forthwith went over safely; that that river should be impassable to the English. I can 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 over-ruling hand in all those things.
3. As I mentioned earlier, when the English army was sent out with new supplies to chase the enemy, they, realizing this, fled before them until they reached the Banquang River, where they crossed safely; that river was impossible for the English to cross. I can only admire the remarkable providence of God in preserving the heathens for further suffering to our poor country. They could cross in large numbers, but the English had to stop. God had a controlling hand in all these events.
4. It was thought, if their corn were cut down, they would starve and die with hunger, and all their corn 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 amongst 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.
4. People believed that if their corn was cut down, they would starve and die of hunger. All the corn they had was destroyed, and they were forced to leave what little they had stored and flee into the woods in the middle of winter. Yet, it's amazing how the Lord kept them safe for His holy purposes, even while many others among the English faced destruction. The way the Lord provided for them was remarkable; during all the time I was with them, I did not see a single man, woman, or child die from hunger.
Though many times they would eat that, that a hog or a dog would hardly touch; yet by that God strengthened them to be a scourge to His people.
Though many times they would eat things that even a hog or a dog would hardly touch; yet through that, God strengthened them to be a scourge to His people.
The chief and commonest food was ground nuts. They eat also nuts and acorns, artichokes, lilly roots, ground beans, and several other weeds and roots, that I know not.
The main and most common food was peanuts. They also ate nuts and acorns, artichokes, lily roots, ground beans, and various other plants and roots that I don’t recognize.
They would pick up old bones, and cut them to pieces at the joints, and if they were full of worms and maggots, they would scald them over the fire to make the vermine 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 horse's guts, and ears, and all sorts of wild birds which they could catch; also bear, venison, beaver, tortoise, frogs, squirrels, dogs, skunks, rattlesnakes; yea, the very bark of trees; besides all sorts of creatures, and provision 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 a morning, the generality of them would eat up all they had, and yet have some further supply against they wanted. It is said, "Oh, that my People had hearkened to me, and Israel had walked in my ways, I should soon have subdued their Enemies, and turned my hand against their Adversaries" (Psalm 81.13-14). 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.
They would collect old bones, chop them up at the joints, and if they were infested with worms and maggots, they would boil them over the fire to get rid of the pests, then cook them and drink the broth, and afterwards crush the larger pieces in a mortar to eat them. They would consume horse intestines, ears, and all kinds of wild birds they could catch; also bear, venison, beaver, tortoise, frogs, squirrels, dogs, skunks, rattlesnakes; even the bark of trees; in addition to all kinds of creatures and supplies they stole from the English. I can only marvel at the incredible power of God in providing for such a large number of our enemies in the wilderness, where there was nothing but hand-to-mouth survival. Many mornings, the majority of them would eat everything they had and somehow still find more food when they needed it. It is said, "Oh, that my People had listened to me, and Israel had walked in my ways, I should soon have subdued their Enemies, and turned my hand against their Adversaries" (Psalm 81.13-14). But now our sinful and wicked behavior in the sight of the Lord has offended Him so much that instead of turning His hand against them, the Lord provides and sustains them to be a plague upon the whole land.
5. Another thing that I would observe is the strange providence of God, in turning things about when the Indians was at the highest, and the English at the lowest. 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. Again, they would say this summer that they would knock all the rogues in the head, or drive them into the sea, or make them fly the country; thinking surely, Agag-like, "The bitterness of Death is past." Now the heathen begins to think all is their own, and the poor Christians' hopes to fail (as to man) and now their eyes are more to God, and their hearts sigh heaven-ward; and to 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 had made a pit, in their own imaginations, 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.
5. Another thing I'd notice is the strange providence of God, turning things around when the Indians were at their peak and the English were at their lowest. I was with the enemy for eleven weeks and five days, and not a week went by without their fury and some destruction by fire and sword in one place or another. They mourned (with their black faces) for their own losses, yet they celebrated and reveled in their inhumane, often cruel treatment of the English. They would brag about their victories, claiming that in just two hours, they had wiped out a captain and his group at a specific location, and boast about how many towns they had destroyed, then laugh and say they had done them a favor by sending them to Heaven so quickly. Again, they would say that summer they would either kill all the rogues, drive them into the sea, or make them flee the country, thinking, like Agag, "The worst is over." Now the heathens started to believe everything was theirs, and the poor Christians' hopes began to fade (as far as man could see), and their eyes turned more to God, with their hearts sighing towards Heaven, genuinely saying, "Help, Lord, or we perish." When the Lord brought His people to this point, where they saw no help in anything but Himself, He took the situation into His own hands; and even though they had plotted a deep pit in their imaginations for the Christians that summer, the Lord turned it against them. The Lord didn't have many ways to protect them before, but now He had plenty of ways to bring their destruction.
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. 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 him 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 experience 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 me 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, and as sufficient to save, as when He preserved Daniel in the lion's den; or the three children in the fiery furnace. I may well say as his Psalm 107.12 "Oh give thanks unto the Lord for he is good, for his mercy endureth for ever." Let the redeemed of the Lord say so, whom He hath redeemed from the hand of the enemy, especially that I should come away in the midst of so many hundreds of enemies quietly and peaceably, and not a dog moving 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 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. I was not before so much hemmed in with the merciless and cruel heathen, but now as much with pitiful, tender-hearted and compassionate Christians. In that poor, and distressed, and beggarly condition I was received in; I was kindly entertained in several houses. So much love I received from several (some of whom I knew, and others 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 temporals. The twenty pounds, the price of my redemption, was raised by some Boston gentlemen, and Mrs. Usher, whose bounty and religious 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 to 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 forth 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 that we should see them again. That which was dead lay heavier upon my spirit, than those which were alive and amongst the heathen: thinking how it suffered with its wounds, and I was no way 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, sometime we should hear a report that they were gone this way, and sometimes that; and that they were come in, 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 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. And as we were riding along (God is the wise disposer of all things) between Ipswich and Rowley we met with Mr. William Hubbard, who told us that our son Joseph was come in to Major Waldron's, and another with him, which was my sister's son. 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 would go over to Salisbury, to hear further, 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 in at Providence. Here was mercy on both hands. Now hath God fulfilled that precious Scripture which was such a comfort to me in my distressed condition. When my heart was ready to sink into the earth (my children being gone, I could not tell whither) and my knees trembling under me, and I was walking through the valley of the shadow of death; then the Lord brought, and now has fulfilled that reviving word unto me: "Thus saith the Lord, Refrain thy voice from weeping, and thine eyes from tears, for thy Work shall be rewarded, saith the Lord, and they shall come again from the Land of the Enemy." 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 reward 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 many fold.
But to return to my journey home, where we can see a remarkable change in fate. At first, everyone was against it, except my husband came to get me, but later they agreed and seemed really happy about it; some asked me to send them bread, others tobacco, and some shook my hand, offering me a hood and scarf to ride in; not a single person spoke out against it. This is how the Lord has answered my humble wish, and the many prayers others offered to God for me. During my travels, an Indian approached me and said that if I wanted, he and his wife would run away and go home with me. I told him no; I was not willing to run away but wanted to wait for God's timing so I could go home quietly and without fear. And now God has granted me my wish. Oh, the amazing power of God that I have witnessed, and the experiences I have had. I was surrounded by roaring lions and savage bears who feared neither God, nor man, nor the devil, day and night, alone and with others, sleeping in close quarters, and yet not one of them ever showed me any disrespect in word or action. Though some might say I say this for my own sake; I speak it in the presence of God and for His Glory. God's power is just as great now and as capable of saving as when He saved Daniel from the lion’s den or the three children from the fiery furnace. I can truly say, as in Psalm 107:12, "Oh give thanks to the Lord for He is good; His mercy endures forever." Let the redeemed of the Lord say so, those whom He has rescued from the hand of the enemy, especially that I could leave among so many hundreds of enemies quietly and peacefully, and not a single dog barking. So I took my leave of them, and on my way my heart overflowed with tears, more than at any time while I was with them, and I was almost overwhelmed with the thought that I might never return home again. Around sunset, Mr. Hoar, myself, and the two Indians reached Lancaster, and it was a solemn sight for me. There I had lived many comfortable years among my relatives and neighbors, and now not a single Christian was to be seen, nor any house left standing. We continued to a farmhouse that was still intact, where we stayed the night, and it was comfortable enough, even though we had only straw to sleep on. The Lord kept us safe that night and woke us up in the morning, guiding us along so that before noon, we arrived in Concord. I was filled with joy, yet I still felt sorrow; joy to see such a beautiful sight, so many Christians gathered together, some of them my neighbors. There I met my brother and my brother-in-law, who asked me if I knew where his wife was. Poor man! He had helped bury her and didn't even know it. She was shot down by the house, which was partly burned, so those who were in Boston at the time of the town’s destruction and later returned to bury the dead did not recognize her. Still, I was sorrowful, thinking of how many were waiting and hoping, including my own children, to share in the deliverance I now had, and I did not know if I would ever see them again. After being provided with food and clothing, we went to Boston that day, where I reunited with my dear husband, but the thoughts of our dear children—one dead and the other missing—dampened our comfort in each other. I was no longer surrounded by the merciless and cruel heathen, but now just as much by pitiful, tender-hearted, and compassionate Christians. In that poor and distressed condition, I was welcomed with kindness in several homes. I received so much love from various people (some I knew, and some I did not) that I cannot even begin to express it. But the Lord knows them all by name. May the Lord reward them sevenfold with His blessings for their generosity. The twenty pounds, which was the price of my freedom, was raised by some gentlemen from Boston and Mrs. Usher, whose kindness and religious charity I must mention. Then Mr. Thomas Shepard from Charlestown took us into his home, where we stayed for eleven weeks; he and his wife were like a father and mother to us. And we met many more kind-hearted friends in that place. We were now surrounded by love but still weighed down by frequent sorrow for our poor children and other relatives who remained in distress. The week after my arrival, the governor and council sent out another mission to the Indians, and it was not without success, as they brought back my sister and goodwife Kettle. Their uncertainty about our children's whereabouts continued to be a heavy trial for us, but we still held secret hopes of seeing them again. My worries about those who had died weighed more heavily on my spirit than those who were alive and among the heathen: thinking about their suffering from wounds, and that I couldn’t help them; and how they were buried by the heathen in the wilderness away from all Christians. We were often anxious and restless, sometimes hearing rumors they were taken this way or that, and that they had been found in this place or that. We kept asking around and listening for news about them, but nothing certain yet. Around this time, the council declared a day of public thanksgiving. Even though I felt I still had reasons to mourn, and with unsettled minds, we decided to ride eastward to see if we could learn anything about our children. As we rode along (God is the wise orchestrator of all things), between Ipswich and Rowley, we ran into Mr. William Hubbard, who informed us that our son Joseph had arrived at Major Waldron's place, along with another boy, who was my sister's son. I asked how he knew this, and he replied that the Major himself had told him. So we continued until we reached Newbury; the minister was absent, and they asked my husband to preach the thanksgiving service for them, but he was not keen on staying there that night; he wanted to go on to Salisbury, to hear more, and return in the morning, which he did, and preached that day. Later that evening, after he finished, someone came and told him that his daughter had arrived in Providence. Here was mercy on both sides. Now God had fulfilled that precious Scripture that had comforted me so much during my distress. When my heart was about to sink because my children were gone and I didn't know where, and my knees were trembling beneath me, and I was walking through the valley of shadow and death; then the Lord brought, and now has fulfilled that uplifting word to me: "Thus saith the Lord, Refrain thy voice from weeping, and thine eyes from tears, for thy work shall be rewarded, saith the Lord, and they shall come again from the land of the enemy." Now we were between them, one in the east and the other in the west. Our son being closest, we went to him first, to Portsmouth, where we met him and the Major, who told us that he had done what he could, but could not redeem him for less than seven pounds, which the kind people there were willing to pay. May the Lord reward the Major and everyone else, even those unknown to me, for their labor of love. My sister's son was redeemed for four pounds, which the council ordered to be paid. Having now recovered one of our children, we rushed toward the other. Passing back through Newbury, my husband preached there on Sunday, for which they rewarded him generously.
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 passionate friends on every side to us, 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, for great is His power, and He can do whatsoever seemeth Him good. Her coming in was after this manner: she was traveling 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 and under them but the earth. Thus she traveled three days together, not knowing whither she was going; having nothing to eat or drink but water, and green hirtle-berries. 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, each to others. Now have I seen that Scripture also fulfilled, "If any of thine be driven out to the outmost parts of heaven, from thence will the Lord thy God gather thee, and from thence will he fetch thee. And the Lord thy God will put all these curses upon thine enemies, and on them which hate thee, which persecuted thee" (Deuteronomy 30.4-7). Thus hath the Lord brought me and mine out of that horrible pit, and hath set us in the midst of tender-hearted and compassionate Christians. It is the desire of my soul that we may walk worthy of the mercies received, and which we are receiving.
On Monday, we arrived in Charlestown, where we learned that the governor of Rhode Island had sent for our daughter to take care of her, since she was now within his jurisdiction; this definitely deserves our thanks. However, since she was closer to Rehoboth than Rhode Island, Mr. Newman went over, looked after her, and brought her to his home. We marveled at God's goodness during our difficult times, as He provided dedicated friends on every side when we had nothing to repay their kindness. The Indians had moved that way, making it seem risky to go to her. But the carts carrying supplies to the English army, which were guarded, brought her safely to Dorchester, where we welcomed her back. Blessed be the Lord for this; His power is great, and He can do whatever He sees fit. Her return happened like this: she was traveling one day with the Indians, with a basket on her back; the group of Indians had moved ahead and vanished from sight, except for one woman. She followed the woman until night, and then both of them laid down with nothing above them but the sky and nothing below but the ground. She traveled this way for three days, unsure of where she was going, with only water and wild berries to eat. Eventually, they reached Providence, where she was warmly welcomed by several people in the town. The Indians often claimed that I would never get her back for less than twenty pounds. But now the Lord has brought her back at no cost and given her to me once again. May the Lord make us a true blessing to one another. I have now seen that Scripture fulfilled: "If any of yours are driven out to the farthest parts of heaven, from there the Lord your God will gather you, and from there He will bring you back. And the Lord your God will put all these curses on your enemies and those who hate you, who persecuted you" (Deuteronomy 30.4-7). Thus, the Lord has brought me and my family out of that terrible pit and placed us among kind-hearted and compassionate Christians. It is the desire of my soul that we walk worthy of the mercies we have received and continue to receive.
Our family being now gathered together (those of us that were living), the South Church in Boston hired an 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. Still the Lord went along with us, and provided graciously for us. I thought it somewhat strange to set up house-keeping with bare walls; but as Solomon says, "Money answers all things" and that 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: "There is a Friend which sticketh closer than a Brother" (Proverbs 18.24). And how many such friends have we found, and now living amongst? And truly such a friend have we found him to be unto us, in whose house we lived, viz. Mr. James Whitcomb, a friend unto us near hand, and afar off.
Our family was finally gathered together (those of us who were alive), and the South Church in Boston rented a house for us. We then moved from Mr. Shepard's, those dear friends, and went to Boston, where we stayed for about nine months. Still, the Lord was with us and took care of us. I found it a bit odd to start a household with empty walls, but as Solomon says, "Money answers all things," and we had support from generous Christian friends, some from this town, others from elsewhere, and some from England. Soon enough, we could look around and see the house filled with love. The Lord has been especially good to us in our difficult times, as when we had no house, home, or other necessities, the Lord moved the hearts of those around us so that we lacked neither food nor clothing for ourselves or our family: "There is a Friend who sticks closer than a Brother" (Proverbs 18:24). And how many such friends have we found and who are now living among us? Truly, we have found such a friend in the person whose house we lived in, Mr. James Whitcomb, a friend to us both nearby and far away.
I can remember the time when I used to sleep quietly without workings in my thoughts, whole nights together, but now it is other ways with me. When all are fast about me, and no eye open, but His who ever waketh, my thoughts are upon things past, upon the awful dispensation of the Lord towards us, 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 is 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 husk, we have the fatted 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, "I watered my Couch with my tears" (Psalm 6.6). Oh! 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 remember when I used to sleep peacefully without racing thoughts, night after night, but now things are different for me. When everyone around me is fast asleep, and only He who never sleeps is awake, my mind drifts to the past, reflecting on the Lord's incredible ways with us, His amazing power and might in guiding us through so many challenges, bringing us back safely, and protecting us from harm. I recall one night when I found myself surrounded by thousands of enemies, with only death ahead of me. At that moment, it's hard to believe I would ever be satisfied with just bread again. But now we’re nourished with the best of the wheat, and, you could say, honey from the rock. Instead of scraps, we have the fattened calf. The thoughts of these details, along with God's love and goodness toward us, truly resonate with me in the same way David said of himself, "I watered my Couch with my tears" (Psalm 6.6). Oh, the amazing power of God that my eyes have witnessed provides enough material for my thoughts to dwell on, that while others sleep, my eyes are filled with tears.
I have seen the extreme vanity of this world: One hour I have been in health, and wealthy, wanting nothing. But the next hour in sickness and wounds, and death, having nothing but sorrow and affliction.
I have witnessed the extreme vanity of this world: One moment I am healthy and rich, lacking nothing. But the next moment, I am sick and hurt, facing death, with nothing but sorrow and suffering.
Before I knew what affliction meant, I was ready sometimes to wish for it. When I lived in prosperity, having the comforts of the world about me, my relations by me, my heart cheerful, and taking little care for anything, and yet seeing many, whom I preferred before myself, under many trials and afflictions, in sickness, weakness, poverty, losses, crosses, and cares of the world, I should be sometimes jealous least I should have my portion in this life, and that Scripture would come to my mind, "For whom the Lord loveth he chasteneth, and scourgeth every Son whom he receiveth" (Hebrews 12.6). But now I see the Lord had His time to scourge and chasten me. The portion of some is to have their afflictions by drops, now one drop and then another; but the dregs of the cup, 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 (I thought), pressed down and running over. Yet I see, when God calls a person to anything, and through never so many difficulties, yet He is fully able to carry them through and make them see, and say they have been gainers thereby. And I hope I can say in some measure, as David did, "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 vanity of vanities, and vexation of spirit, that they are but a shadow, a blast, a bubble, and things of no continuance. That we must rely on God Himself, and our whole dependance must be upon Him. If trouble from smaller matters begin to arise 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 had the world, I would have given it for my freedom, or to have been a servant to a Christian. I have learned to look beyond present and smaller troubles, and to be quieted under them. As Moses said, "Stand still and see the salvation of the Lord" (Exodus 14.13).
Before I even understood what suffering meant, I sometimes found myself wishing for it. When I was living comfortably, surrounded by the good things in life, with my loved ones nearby, feeling cheerful and not worrying much about anything, I noticed many others, whom I valued more than myself, going through tough times—sickness, weakness, poverty, loss, burdens, and worries. I would sometimes feel jealous, thinking I’d get my share of hardship in this life, and the scripture would come to mind, "For whom the Lord loves, He disciplines, and He chastens every son whom He receives" (Hebrews 12:6). But now I realize the Lord had His time to discipline and refine me. Some people experience their suffering in small doses, one thing after another; but for me, the Lord prepared the full brunt of it, like a heavy downpour that leaves nothing behind. I wanted suffering, and I got it, in full measure, overflowing. Yet I see that when God calls someone to endure anything, no matter how many difficulties arise, He can fully support them and help them see that they have gained from the experience. I hope I can say, as David did, "It is good for me that I have been afflicted." The Lord has shown me the emptiness of worldly things. They are truly meaningless, just a fleeting shadow, a puff of air, a bubble, and not lasting at all. We must depend on God Himself, placing our entire trust in Him. When minor troubles start to bother me, I remind myself to check in, asking, why am I upset? Just the other day, I realized that if I had everything the world offered, I would have traded it for my freedom or to be a servant to a Christian. I’ve learned to look beyond immediate, minor troubles and find peace within them. As Moses said, "Stand still and see the salvation of the Lord" (Exodus 14:13).
Finis.
Done.
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