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 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.
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."
