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.
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.
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.
