NARRATIVE OF THE CAPTIVITY AND RESTORATION OF MRS. MARY ROWLANDSON
By Mrs. Mary Rowlandson
The sovereignty and goodness of GOD, together with the faithfulness
of his promises displayed, being a narrative of the captivity and
restoration of Mrs. Mary Rowlandson, commended by her, to all that
desires to know the Lord’s doings to, and dealings with her. Especially
to her dear children and relations. 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.
On the tenth of February 1675, came the Indians with great numbers upon
Lancaster: their first coming was about sunrising; hearing the noise
of some guns, we looked out; several houses were burning, and the smoke
ascending to heaven. There were five persons taken in one house; the
father, and the mother and a sucking child, they knocked on the head;
the other two they took and carried away alive. There were two others,
who being out of their garrison upon some occasion were set upon;
one was knocked on the head, the other escaped; another there was who
running along was shot and wounded, and fell down; he begged of them his
life, promising them money (as they told me) but they would not hearken
to him but knocked him in head, and stripped him naked, and split open
his bowels. Another, seeing many of the Indians about his barn, ventured
and went out, but was quickly shot down. There were three others
belonging to the same garrison who were killed; the Indians getting up
upon the roof of the barn, had advantage to shoot down upon them over
their fortification. Thus these murderous wretches went on, burning, and
destroying before them.
At length they came and beset our own house, and quickly it was the
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.
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.
I had often before this said that if the Indians should come, I should
choose rather to be killed by them than taken alive, but when it came
to the trial my mind changed; their glittering weapons so daunted
my spirit, that I chose rather to go along with those (as I may say)
ravenous beasts, than that moment to end my days; and that I may the
better declare what happened to me during that grievous captivity, I
shall particularly speak of the several removes we had up and down the
wilderness.
THE FIRST REMOVE
Now away we must go with those barbarous creatures, with our bodies
wounded and bleeding, and our hearts no less than our bodies. About a
mile we went that night, up upon a hill within sight of the town, where
they intended to lodge. 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.
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.
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.
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.
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.”
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
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