YALE UNIVERSITY
LIBRARY

THE
REDEEMED CAPTIVE RETURNING TO ZION

A FAITHFUL HISTORY OF REMARKABLE
OCCURRENCES

CAPTIVITY AND DELIVERANCE

MR. JOHN WILLIAMS,
MINISTER OP THB Q08P1SL IN DEEftPIELD,
WHO IN THE DESOLATION WHICH BEFEL THAT PLANTATION By
AN INCURSION OF TIIE FRENCH AND INDIANS, WAS By THEM
CARRIED AWAY, WITH HIS FAMILY AND HIS NEIGHBOR
HOOD, INTO CANADA,
DRAWN UP BY HIMSELF.
TO WHICH IS ADDED,
A BIOGRAPHICAL MEMOIR OF THE
REVEREND AUTHOR,

AN APPENDIX AND NOTES,
DT
STEPHEN W. WILLIAMS, A. M., M. D.,
nONORART MEMDER OP THE NEW TORE HISTORICAL SOCIETY, CORRESPONDING
MEUBER OF THE NATIONAL INSTITUTE, KTC, ETC.

NORTHAMPTON:
HOPKINS, BRIDGMAN, AND COMP^VNY.
1853.

7-49

Entered according to Act of Congress, in the year 1853, by
Hopkins, Bridgman, and Company,
in the Clerk's Office of the District Court of the District of Massachusetts.

Cfe

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caubridge:
metoalp and company, printers to the university.

PREFACE
TO THE NEW EDITION.

The writer of the Memoir of the Eev. John Wil
liams is induced to prepare another edition of " The
Redeemed -Captive," and lay it before the public, on
account of the repeated calls for this work.
A great and growing interest in antiquarian research
evinces the eagerness with which the present genera
tion seek after the particular history of their ancestors,
and the desire they feel of becoming acquainted with
their privations and sufferings, their hardships and dan
gers, in transmitting to them the beautiful heritage
which they now occupy.
This is especially the case with those who now re
side in the immediate vicinity of the place where those
hardships and privations were endured, and also to
their connections, who are scattered over various parts
of the country. Many others too will read the thrilling
narrative with interest and pleasure.
" The Redeemed Captive " was written and published
by the Rev. John Williams, soon after his return from
Indian slavery and Jesuitical pereecution in 1706-7,
and has since passed through six editions, the last of
which was published in the year 1800 ; consequently
the book has been long out of print.
It was my intention to have had an engraved like-

IV PHEFACE.

ness of the Rev. Mr. Williams to accompany this work.
His portrait, painted soon after his return from captiv
ity, is now in the hands of some of his descendants,
but I have in vain endeavored to procure it for this
purpose. I have been more fortunate in obtaining an
excellent portrait of his son, the Rev. Dr. Stephen
Williams, of Longmeadow, who was taken prisoner
with his father, and whose Journal is published in the
Appendix to this work. I have also the pleasure of
presenting a plate of the old fort.house at Deerfield,
where the captives were placed after the sacking of
the town, and which has been recently torn down. It
was about one hundred and sixty years old when it
was demolished. The sills and other timbers were as
sound as they were when the house was erected. The
old door, filled with nails and gashed with Indian toma
hawks, is preserved, and still to be seen at the resi
dence of Henry K. Hoyt, Esq.
Although in my notes I have not pretended to give a
genealogical history of the descendants of the Eev.
John Williams, yet as the Journal of his son, Stephen,
and the extract from a Sermon relating to his daughter,
Eunice, were arranged for an Appendix to this work,
and inasmuch as the public journals are discussing the
claims of Eleazer Williams, grandson of Eunice, as
the Dauphin, I have not thought it out of place for me
to introduce, at the close of the volume, some testi
mony bearing upon this question ; as some interesting
facts respecting the history of Eleazer are personally
known by me which mayjDe interesting to the public;
and, moreover, as I regard him as my kinsman, and a
descendant of the author of " The Redeemed Captive."
STEPHEN W. WILLIAMS.
Deerfield, Massachusetts, 1853.

DEDICATION.

TO ms EXCELLENCY,
JOSEPH DUDLEY, Esq.,
CAPTAIN OENBRAL AND QOVEIlNOn IN CHIEF, IN AND OVER HER MAJESTY'S
PROVINCE OP THB MASSACHUSETTS DAY, IN NEW ENGLAND, ETC.
Sir, — It was a satirical answer, and deeply re
proachful to raankind, which the philosopher gave to
that question. What soonest grows old ? replied, Thanks.
The reproach of it would not be so sensible, were there
not sensible demonstrations of the truth of it, in those
that wear the character of the ingenious. Such as are
at first surprised at, and seem to have no common rel
ish of divine goodness, yet too soon lose the impres
sion : " They sang God's praise, but soon forgat his
works." That it should be thus vvith respect to our
benefactors on earth, is contraiy to the ingenuity of
human nature ; but that our grateful remembrance of
the signal favors of Heaven should soon be worn off

VI DEDICATION.

by time, is to the last degree criminal and unpardon
able. It would be unaccountable stupidity in me, not to
maintain the most lively and awful sense of divine re
bukes, which the holy God has seen meet in spotless
sovereignty to dispense to me, my family, and people,
in delivering us into the hands of them that hated us,
who led us into a strange land : " My soul hath these
still in remembrance, and is humbled in me." How
ever, God has given us plentiful occasion to sing of
mercy, as well as judgment. The wonders of Divine
mercy, which we have seen in the land of our captiv
ity, and deliverance therefrom, cannot be forgotten
without incurring the guilt of the blackest ingratitude.
To preserve the memory of these, it has been thought
advisable to publish a short account of some of those
signal appearances of divine power and goodness for
us ; hoping it may serve to excite the praise, faith, and
hope of all that love God, and may peculiarly serve to
cherish a grateful spirit, and to render the impressions
of God's mighty works indelible on my heart, and on
those who with me have seen the wonders of the Lord,
and tasted of his salvation. That we may not fall
under that heavy charge made against Israel of old^
Psalm Ixxviii. 11, 42. "They forgat his works, and
the wonders he shewed them : They remembered not
his hand, nor the day that he delivered them from the
enemy."

DEDICATION, vii
And I cannot. Sir, but think it most agreeable to my
duty to God, our supreme redeemer, to mention your
Excellency's name with, honor, since Heaven has hon
ored you as the prime instrument in returning our cap
tivity. Sure I am, the laws of justice and gratitude
(which are the laws of God) do challenge from us the
most public acknowledgments of your uncommon sym
pathy with us, your children, in our bonds, expressed
in all endearing methods of parental care and tender
ness. All your people are cherished under your wings,
happy in your government ; and are obliged to bless
God for you. And among your people, those who are
immediately exposed to the outrages of the enemy,
have peculiarly felt refreshment from the benign influ
ences of your wise and tender conduct, and are under
the most sensible engagements to acknowledge your
Excellency, under God, as the breath of their nostrils.
Your uncommon sagacity and prudence in contriv
ing to loose the bonds of your captivated children ;
your unwearied vigor and application, in pursuing tliem,
to work our deliverance, can never be enough praised.
It is most notorious that nothing was thought too diffi
cult by you to effect this design ; in that you readily
sent your own son, Mr. William Dudley, to undergo
the hazards and hardships of a tedious voyage, that this
affair might be transacted with success ; which must
not be forgotten, as an expression of your great solici-

via DEDICATION.
tude and zeal to recover us from the tyranny and op
pression of our captivity.
I doubt not but that the God whom herein you have
served will remember and gloriously reward you ;
and may Heaven long preserve you at our helm, a
blessing so necessary for the tranquillity of this Prov
ince, in this dark and tempestuous season; may the
best of blessings from the Father of lights be showered
down upon your person, family, and government;
which shall be the prayer of
Your Excellency's most humble.
Obedient, and dutiful servant,
JOHN WILLIAMS.
March 3d, 1706-7.

THE

REDEEMED CAPTIVE RETUllXIXG TO ZION.

The history I am going to write proves, that days of
fasting and prayer, without reformation, will not avail
to turn away the anger of God from a professing peo
ple ; and yet witnesscth how very advaiit.nfieuus gra
cious supplications are, to prepai-c particular Cliiistiiins
patiently to suffer the will of (lod, in very trying pub
lic calamities. For some of us, moved with fear,
set apart a day of prayer, to ask of God either to
spare, and save us from the hands of our enemies, or
to prepare us to sanctify and honor him, in what way
soever ho should come forth towards us. The places
of Scripture from whence we were entertained in the
forenoon, were Gen. x.xxii. 10, 11 ; "I am not worthy
of the least of all the mercies, and of all the truth,
which thou hast showed unto thy servant : — Deliver
me, 1 pray thee, from the hand of my brother, from
the hand of Esau, for I fear him, lest he will come
and smite me, and the mother with the children."
And in the afternoon, Gen. xxxii. 26 : " And he said.
Let me go, for the day breaketh. And he said, I will
not let thee go, except thou bless me." From which
I

10

THE REDEEMED CAPTIVE

we were called upon to spread the causes of fear, relat
ing to our own selves, or families, before God ; as
also how it becomes us with an undeniable importunity
to be following God, with earnest prayers for his bless
ing in every condition. And it is very observable,
how God ordered our prayers in a peculiar manner, to
be going up to him ; to prepare us, with a right Chris
tian spirit, to undergo, and endure suffering trials.
Not long after, the holy and righteous God brought
us under great trials, as to our persons and families, -
which put us under a necessity of spreading before
him in a wilderness, the distressing dangers and calam
ities of our relations, yea, that called on us, notwith
standing seeming present frowns, to resolve, by his
grace, not to be sent away without a blessing. Jacob
in wrestling has the hollow of his thigh put out of joint,
and it is said to him, " Let me go " : yet he is rather
animated to a heroical Christian resolution to continue
earnest for the blessing, than discouraged from asking.
On Tuesday, the 29th of February, 1703-4, not
long before break of day, the enemy came in like a
flood upon us; our watch being unfaithful; — an evil,
the awful effects of which, in the surprisal of our fort,
should bespeak all watchmen to avoid, as they would
not bring the charge of blood upon themselves. Thev
came to my house in the beginning of the onset, and
by their violent endeavors to break open doors and
windows, with axes and hatchets, awaked me out of
sleep ; on which I leaped out of bed, and, runnino- to
wards the door, perceived the enemy making their en
trance into the house. I called to awaken two soldiers

RETURNING TO ZION. 11
in the chamber, and returning toward my bedside for
my arms, the enemy immediately broke into the room,
I judge to the number of twenty, with painted faces,
and hideous acclamations. I reached up my hands to
the bed-tester for my pistol, uttering a short petition to
God, for everlasting mercies for me and mine, on
account of the merits of our glorified Eedecmer ; ex
pecting a present passage through the valley of the
shadow of death ; saying in myself, as Isa. xxxviii. 10,
11, " I said, in the cutting efl' of my days, I sliall go
to the gates ofthe grave : I am (lepriv(Ml ofthe residue
of my years. I said, I shall not see the Lord, even tin;
Lord, in the land of the living: I shall behold mun no
more with the inhabitants of the world." Taking down
my pistol, I cocked il, and put it to tho breast of tho
first Indian that came up ; but my pistol missing (ire, I
was seized by three Indians, who disarmed me, and
bound mc naked, as 1 was in my shirt, and so 1 stood
for near the space of an hour. Biiiiliiig mo, they told
mc thoy would carry me to Qiiebeck. i\ly pistol miss.
ing fire was an occasion of mv life's being preserved ;
since which I have also found it iirofilablc to be crossed
in my own will. The ju(ly;ineiit of God ilid not long
slumber against one of the three which took mc, who
was a captain, for by sunrisiiiLi; he received a mortal
shot from my next neighbor's house ; who opposed so
great a number of French and Indians as thiee hun
dred, and yet were no more than seven men in an un-
garrisoned house.
I cannot relate the distressing care I had for my dear
wife, who hud lain in but a few weeks before ; and for
my poor ;;hildren, family, and Christian neighbors.

12 THE REDEEMED CAPTIVE
The enemy fell to rifling the house, and entered in
great numbers into every room. I begged of God to
remember mercy in the midst of judgment ; that he
would so far restrain their wrath, as to prevent their
murdering of us ; that we might have grace to glorify
his name, whether in life or death ; and, as I was able,
committed our state to God. The enemies who entered
the house, were all of them Indians and Macquas, in
sulted over me awhile, holding up hatchets over my
head, threatening to burn all I had ; but yet God, be
yond expectation, made us in a great measure to be
pitied ; for though some were so cruel and barbarous
as to take and carry to the door two of my children
and murder them, as also a negro woman ; yet they
gave me liberty to put on my clothes, keeping me
bound with a cord on one arm, till I put on my clothes
to the other ; and then changing my cord, they let me
dress myself, and then pinioned me again. Gave lib
erty to ray dear wife to dress herself and our remain
ing children. About sun an hour high, we were all
carried out of the house, for a march, and saw many
of the houses of my neighbors in flames, perceiving
the whole fort, one house excepted, to be taken. Who
can tell what sorrows pierced our souls, when we saw
ourselves carried away from God's sanctuary, to go in
to a strange land, exposed to so many trials ; the jour
ney being at least three hundred miles we were to
travel ; the snow up to the knees, and we never inured
to such hardships and fatigues ; the place we were to
be carried to, a Popish country. Upon my parting
from the town, they fired my house and barn. We
were carried over the river, to the foot of ^he moun-

RETURNING TO ZION. " 13
tain, about a mile from my house, where we found a
great number of our Christian neighbors, men, women,
and children, to the number of an hundred, nineteen
of which were afterward murdered by the way, and
two starved to death, near Cowass, in a timo of trreat
scarcity, or famine, the savages underwent there.
When we came to the foot of the mountain, they took
away our shoes, and gave us in the room of them In
dian shoes, to prepare us for our travel. A\'liilst we
were there, the English beat out a company that re
raained in the town, and pursued them to the river, kill
ing and wounding many of them ; but the body of the
army being alarmed, they repulsed those few English
that pursued them.
I am not able to give you an account of the number
of the cnciny slain, but 1 observed after this fight no
great, insulting mirth, as I expected ; and saw many
woundiMl persons, and for several days toj^'ether they
buried of their party, and one of chief note among tho
Macquas. The Governor of Canada told me, his army
had that success with the loss of but eleven men ; three
Frenchmen, one of which was the lieutenant of the
army, five Macquas, and three Indians. But after my
arrival at Quebeck, I spake with an Englishman, who
was taken in the last war, and of their religion; who
told me, Ihey lost above forty, and that many were
wounded : I replied, " The (uneriior of Canada said
they lost but eleven men." He answered, " 'T is true
that there were but eleven killed outright at the taking
of the fort, but many others were wounded, among
whom was the ensign of the French ; but," said he,
" they had a fight in the meadow, and in both en-

14 THE REDEEMED CAPTIVE
gagements they lost more than forty. Some of the
soldiers, both French and Indians, then present, told
me so," said he, adding, that the French always en
deavor to conceal the number of their slam.
After this, we went up the mountain, and saw the
smoke of the fires in the town, and beheld the awful
desolations of Deerfield. And before we marched any
farther, they killed a sucking child belonging to one of
the English. There were slain by the enemy of the
inhabitants of Deerfield, to the number of thirty-eight,
besides nine of the neighboring towns.* We travelled
not far the first day'; God made the heathen so to pity
our children, that though they had several wounded
persons of their own to carry upon their shoulders, for
thirty miles, before they came to the river, yet they
carried our children, incapable of travelling, in their
arms, and upon their shoulders. When we came to
our lodging place, the first night, they dug away the
snow, and made some wigwams, cut down some small
branches of the spruce-tree tb lie down on, and gave
the prisoners somewhat to eat ; but we had but little
appetite. I was pinioned and bound down that night,
and so I was every night whilst I was with the army.
Some of the enemy who brought drink with them
from the town fell to drinking, and in their drunken
fit they killed my negro man, the only dead person I
either saw at the town, or in the way.
In the night an Englishman made his escape ; in
the morning (March 1), I was called for, and ordered
by the general to tell the English, that if any more
* See Appendix and Notes.

RETURNING TO ZION. 15
made their escape, they would burn the rest of the
prisoners. He that took me was unwilling to let me
speak with any of the prisoners, as we marched ; but
on the morning of the second day, he being appointed
to guard the rear, I was put into the hands of my other
master, who permitfed me to speak to my wife, when
I overtook her, and to walk with her to help her in her
journey. On the way, we discoursed of the happiness
of those who had a right to an house not made with
hands, eternal in the heavens ; and God for a father
and friend ; as also, that it was our reasonable duty
quietly to submit to the will of God, and to say, " The
will of the Lord be done." My wife told me her
strength of body began to fail, and that I must expect
to part with her; saying, she hoped (ind would pre
serve my life, and the life of some, if not of all our
children with us; and commended to me, under (iod,
the care of them. She never spake any diseontenled
word as to what had bcfiilleii us, but with suitable ex
pressions justified Cod in what had happened. We
soon made a halt, in which time my chief surviving
master came up, upon which I was put upon marching
with the foremost, and so made my last farewell of my
dear wife, the desire of my eyes, and companion in
many mercies and alUictions. Upon our separation
from each other, wc asked for each other grace suf
ficient for what God should call us to. After our be
ing parted from one another, she spent the few remain
ing minutes of her stay in reading the Holy Scrip
tures; which she was wont personally every day to
delight her soul in reading, praying, meditating on, by
herself, in her closet, over and above what she heard

16 THE REDEEMED CAPTIVE
out of them in our family worship. I was made to
wade over a small river, and so were all the English,
the water above knee deep, the stream very swift ; and
after that to travel up a small mountain ; my strength
was almost spent, before I came to the top of it. No
sooner had I overcome the difficulty of that ascent, but
I was permitted to sit down, and be unburdened of my
pack. I sat pitying those who were behind, and en
treated my master to let me go down and help my
wife; but he refused, and would not let me stir from
him. I asked each of the prisoners (as they passed by
me) after her, and heard that, passing through the
above-said river, she fell down, and was plunged over
head and ears in the water ; after which she travelled
not far, for at the foot of that mountain, the cruel and
bloodthirsty savage who took her slew her with his
hatchet at one stroke, the tidings of which were very
awful. And yet such was the hard-heartedness of the
adversary, that my tears were reckoned to me as a re
proach. My loss and the loss of my children was great ;
our hearts were so filled with sorrow, that nothing but the
comfortable hopes of her being taken away, in mercy
to herself, from the evils we were to see, feel, and
suffer under, (and joined to the assembly ofthe spirits
of just men made perfect, to rest in peace, and joy
unspeakable and full of glory, and the good pleasure
of God thus to e.xercise us,) could have kept us from
sinking under, at that time. That Scripture, Job i. 21,
" Naked came I out of my mother's womb, and naked
shall I return thither : the Lord gave, and the Lord
hath taken away ; blessed be the name of the Lord," —
was brought to my mind, and from it, that an afflicting

RETURNING TO ZION. 17
God was to be glorified ; with some other places of
Scripture, to persuade to a patient bearing my afflic
tions. We were again called upon to march, with a far
heavier burden on my spirits than on my back. I
begged of God to overrule, in his providence, that the
corpse of one so dear to me, and of one whose spirit
he had taken to dwell with him in glory, might meet
with a Christian burial, and not be left for meat to the
fowls of the air and beasts of the earth ; a mercy that
God graciously vouchsafed to grant. For God put it
into the hearts of my neighbors, to come out as far as
sho lay, to take up her corpse, carry it to the town,
and decently to bury it soon after. In our march they
killed a sucking infant of one of my neighbors ; and
before night a girl of about eleven years of age. I
was made to mourn, at the consideration of my flock
being, so far, a flock of slaughter, many being slain in
the town, and so many murdered in so few miles from
the town ; and from fears what we must yet expect,
from such who delightfully imbrued their hands in the
blood of so many of Ills people. When we came to
our lodging place, an Indian captain from the cast-
ward spake to my master about killing me, and taking
off my scalp. I lifted up my heart to God, to implore
his grace and mercy in such a time of need ; and
afterwards 1 told my master, if he intended to kill me,
I desired he would let me know of it ; assuring him
that my death, after a promise of quarter, would bring
the guilt of blood upon him. He told me he would
not kill me. We laid down and slept, for God sus
tained and kept us.

18 THE REDEEMED CAPTIVE
In the morning (March 2), we were all called be
fore the chief sachems of the Macquas and Indians,
that a more equal distribution might be made of the
prisoners among them. At my going from the wig
wam, my best clothing was taken from me. As I
came nigh the place appointed, some of the captives
met me, and told me, they thought the enemies were
going to burn some of us, for they had peeled off the
bark from several trees, and acted very strangely. To
whom I replied, they could act nothing against us, but
as they were permitted of God, and I was persuaded
he would prevent such severities. When we came to
the wigwam appointed, several of the captives were
taken from their former masters, and put into the
hands of others ; but I was sent again to my two
masters who brought me from my house.
In our fourth day's march (Friday, March 3), the
enemy killed another of my neighbors, who, being near
the time of travail, was wearied with her journey.
When we camg to the great river, the enemy took
sleighs to draw their wounded, several of our children,
and their packs, and marched a great pace. I travelled
many hours in water up to the ankles. Near night I
was very lame, having before my travel wrenched my
ankle bone and sinews. I thought, and' so did others,
that r should not be able to hold out to travel far.
I lifted up my heart to God, my only refuge, to remove
my lameness, and carry me through, with my children
and neighbors, if he judged it best ; however, I desired
God would be with me in my great change, if he
called me by such a death to glorify him ; and that he
would take care of my children, and neighbors, and

RETURNING TO ZION. 19
bless them ; and within a little space of time I was well
of my lameness, to the joy of my friends, who saw so
great an alteration in my travelling.
On Saturday (March 4), the journey was long and
tedious ; we travelled with such speed that four women
were tired, and then slain by thera who led them cap
tive. On the Sabbath day (March 5), we rested, and I
was permitted to pray, and preach to the captives.
The place of Scripture spoken from was Lam. i. 18 :
" The Lord is righteous, for I have rebelled against his
commandment : hear, I pray you, all people, and be
hold my sorrow : my virgins and my young men are
gone into captivity." The enemy, who said to us,
" Sing us one of Zion's songs," were ready, some of
them, to upbraid us, because our singing was not so
loud as theirs. ,\Vhen the Macquas and Indians were
chief in power, we had this revival in our bondage, to
join together in the worship of God, and encourage
one another to a patient bearing the indignation of the
Lord, till he should plead our cause. When we ar
rived at New France, wc were forbidden praying one
with another, or joining together in the service of God.
Tho next day (Monday, March 6), soon after we
marched, we had an alarm ; on which many of the
English were bound : I was then near the front, and
my master not with me, so I was not bound. This
alarm was occasioned by some Indians shooting at
geese that flew over them, which put them into a con
siderable consternation and fright. But after they
came to understand that they were not pursued by the
English, they boasted, that they would not come out

20

THE REDEEMED CAPTIVE

after them, as they had boasted before we began our
journey in the morning. They killed this day two
women, who were so faint they could not travel.
The next day (Tuesday, March 7), in the morning,
before we travelled, one Mary Brooks, a pious young
woman, carae to the wigwam where I was, and told
me she desired to bless God, who had inclined the
heart of her master to let her come and take her fare
well of me. Said she, " By my falls on the ice yester
day, I injured myself, causing a miscarriage this night,
so that I am not able to travel far ; I know they will
kill me to-day ; but," says she, " God has (praised be
his name !) by his spirit, with his word, strengthened me
to my last encounter with death " ; and so mentioned to
me so,me places of Scripture seasonably sent in for
her support. " And," says she, " I am not afraid of
death ; I can, through the grace of God, cheerfully
subrait to his will. Pray for me," said she, at parting,
" that God would take me to hiraself" Accordingly,
she was killed that day. I mention it, to the end I may
stir up all, in their young days, to improve the death of
Christ by faith, to a giving them an holy boldness in
the day of death.
The next day (Wednesday, March 8), we were
made to scatter one from another into smaller com
panies ; and one of my children was carried away
with Indians belonging to the eastern parts. At night
my master came to me, with my pistol in his hand, and
put it to ray breast, and said, " Now I will kill you,
for," he said, " you would have killed me with it if
you could." But by the grace of God, I was not much
daunted, and whatever his intention might be, God pre
vented my death.

RETURNING TO ZION. 21
The next day (Thursday, March 9), I was again
permitted to pray whb that corapany of captives with
me, and we were allowed to sing a psalm together.
After which, I was taken from all the company of the
English, excepting two children of my neighbors, one
of which, a girl of four years of age, was killed by her
Macqua master the next raorning (Friday, March 10) ;
the snow being so deep when we left the river, that he
could not carry the child and his pack too.
When the Sabbath came (March 12), one Indian
staid with me, and a little boy nine years old, while the
rest went a hunting. And when I was here, I thought
with myself that God had now separated me from the
congregation of his people, who were now in his sanc
tuary, where he commandcth the blessing, even life
for ever ; and made me to bewail my unfruitfulncss
under, and undiankfulness for, such a mercy. When
my spirit was almost overwhelmed within mo at the
consideration of what had passed over me and what
was to be expected ; I was almost ready to sink under
it; but God spake those words with a greater cflicacy
than raan could speak them, for my strengthening and
support. Ps. cxviii. 17, " I shall not die, but live, and
declare the words of the Lord." Ps. xiii. 11, "Why
art thou cast down, O my soul ? and why art thou dis
quieted within me ? Hope thou in tJod ; for I shall yet
praise him, who is the health of my countenance and
my Clod." Neh. i. 8, 9, " Eemember, I beseech diee,
the word that thou commandedst thy servant Moses, say
ing, If ye transgress, I will scatter you abroad among
the nations ; but if ye turn unto me, and keep my com
mandments, and do them, though tliere were of you

22 THE REDEEMED CAPTIVE
cast out unto the uttermost part of the heaven, yet will
I gather them from thence, and will bring them unto
the place that I have chosen, to set my name there."
These three places of Scripture, one after another, by
the grace of God, strengthened my hopes that God
would so far restrain the wrath of the adversary that
the greatest number of us left alive should be carried
through so tedious a journey ; that though my children
had no father to take care of -them, that word quieted
me to a patient waiting to see the end the Lord would
make. Jer. xllx. 11, "Leave thy fatherless children,
I will preserve them alive, and let thy widows trust in
me." Accordingly, God carried them wonderfully
through great difficulties and dangers. My youngest
daughter, aged seven years, was carried all the jour
ney, and looked after with a great deal of tenderness.
My youngest son, aged four years, was wonderfully
preserved from death ; for though they that carried
hira or drawed hira on sleighs were tired with their
journeys, yet their savage, cruel tempers were so over
ruled by God that they did not kill hira, but in their
pity he was spared, and others would take care of him ;
so that four tiraes on the journey he was thus pre
served, till at last he arrived in Montreal, where a
French gentleman, pitying the child, redeemed it out
of the hands of the heathen. My son Samuel and my
eldest daughter were pitied so as to be drawn on sleighs
when unable to travel ; and though they suffered very
much through scarcity of food and tedious journeys,
they were carried through to Montreal : and my son
Stephen, about eleven years of age, wonderfully pre
served from death in the famine whereof three Enolish

RETURNING TO ZION. 23
persons died, and after eight months brought into
Shamblee. My master returned on the evening of the Sabbath
(March 12), and told rae he had killed five moose.
The next day (Monday, March 13), we were removed
to the place where he killed them. We tarried there
three days, till we had roasted and dried the meat.
My master made mc a pair of snow-shoes ; " For," said
he, " you cannot possibly travel without, the snow be
ing knee-deep." We parted from thence heavy laden.
I travelled, with a burden on my back, with snow-shoes,
twenty-five miles tho first day of wearing them ; and
again the next day till aflernoon, .and then wc came to
the French river. ,My master at this place took away
my pack, and drew the whole load on the ice ; but my
bones seemed to be misplaced, and I unable to travel
with any speed. My feet were very sore, and each
night I wrung blood ont of ray stockings when I pulled
them off. My shins also were very sore, lii;ii)g cut
with crusty snow in time of my travelling without
snow-shoes. But finding some dry oak-leaves by the
river-banks, I put thera to my shins, and in once apply
ing them they were healed. And here my master was
very kind to me, — would always give me the best he
had to eat : and, by the goodness of God, I never
wanted a meal's moat during my captivity ; though
some of my children and neighbors were greatly
wounded (as I may say) with the arrows of famine
and pinching want, having for many days nothing but
roots to live upon, and not much of them neither. Jly
master gave me a piece of a Bible ; never disturbed
me in reading the Scriptures, or in praying to God.

24 THE REDEEMED CAPTIVE
Many of my neighbors, also, found that mercy in their
journey, to have Bibles, psalm-books, catechisms, and
good books put into their hands, with liberty to use
them ; and yet, after their arrival at Canada, all possi
ble endeavors were used to deprive them of them.
Some say their Bibles were deraanded by the French
priests, and never redelivered to them, to their great
grief and sorrow.
My march on the French river was very sore, for,
fearing a thaw, we travelled a very great pace; my
feet were so bruised, and my joints so distorted by my
travelling in snow-shoes, that I thought it impossible to
hold out. One morning a little before break of day
my master carae and awaked me out of sleep, saying,
"Arise, pray to God, and eat your breakfast, for we
must go a great way to-day." After prayer, I arose
from ray knees, but my feet were so tender, swollen,
bruised, and full of pain, that I could scarce stand upon
them without holding by the wigwam. And when the
Indians said, " You must run to-day," I answered I
could not run. My master pointed out his hatchet ;
said to me, " Then I must dash out your brains and
take off your scalp." I said, " I suppose, then, you
will do so, for I am not able to travel with speed." He
sent me away alone, on the ice. About sun half an
hour high he overtook me, for I had gone very slowly,
not thinking it possible to travel five miles. When he
came up, he called me to run ; I told him I could go no
faster. He passed by without saying one word more :
so that sometiraes I scarce saw any thing of him for an
hour together. I travelled from about break of day till
dark, never so much as sat down at noon to eat warm

RETURNING TO ZION. 25
victuals, — eating frozen meat, which I had in my coat-
pocket, as I travelled. We went that day two of their
days' journey as they came down. I judge we went
forty or forty-five miles that day. God wonderfully sup
ported me, and so far renewed my strength, that in the
afternoon I was stronger to travel than in the forenoon.
My strength was restored and renewed to admiration.
We should never distrust the care and compassion of
God, who can give strength to them who have no
might, and power to them who are ready to faint.
When we entered on the lake, the ice was rough and
uneven, which was very grievous to my feet, that
could scarce bear to be set down on the smooth ice on
the river. I lifted up my cry to God in ejaculatoiy re
quests, that he would take notice of my state, and some
way or other relieve me. I had not marched above
half a mile before there fell a moist snow, about an inch
and a half deep, that made it very soft for my feet to
pass over the lake to the place where my master's fam
ily was. Wonderful favors in the midst of trying af
flictions I We went a day^s journey from the lake, to
a small company of Indians who were hunting. They
were, after their manner, kind to me, and gave mc the
best they had, which was moose-flesh, ground-nuts,
and cranberries, but no bread : for three weeks to
gether I ato no bread. After our stay there, and un
dergoing difticulties in cutting wood, and suflering by
lousiness, having lousy old clothes of soldiers put upon
me when they stript me of mine, to sell to the French
soldiers in the army, we again began a march for
Shamblee. ^Vc stayed at a branch of the lake, and
feasted two or three days on geese we killed there.

26 THE REDEEMED CAPTIVE
After another day's travel, we came to a river where
the ice was thawed. We made a canoe of elm-bark
in one 'day ; and arrived on a Saturday * near noon at
Shamblee, a small village where is a garrison and fort
of French soldiers. AT SHAMBLEE.
This village is about fifteen miles from Montreal.
The French were very kind to me. A gendeman of
the place took me into his house and to his table, and
lodged me at night on a good feather-bed. The inhab
itants and officers were very obliging to me the litde
time I stayed with them, and promised to write a letter
to the Governor-in-chief to inform him of my passing
down the river. Here I saw a girl taken from our
town, and a young man, who inforraed me that the
greatest part of the captives were come in, and that two
of my children were at Montreal ; that many of the
captives had been in, three weeks before my arrival.
Mercy in the midst of judgment ! As we passed along
the river towards Sorel, we went into a house where
was an English woman of our town, who had been
left among the French in order to her conveyance to
the Indian fort. The French were very kind to her
and to myself, and gave us the best provision they had ;
and she embarked with us to go down to St. Francis
fort. When we came down to the first inhabited
house at Sorel, a French woman came to the river
side and desired us to go into her house ; and when we
* Suppose March 25.

RETURNING TO ZION. 27
were entered, she compassioned our state, and told us
she had in the last war been a captive among the In
dians, and therefore was not a litde sensible of our diffi
culties. She gave the Indians something to eat in the
chimney-corner, and spread a cloth on the table for
us with napkins ; which gave such offence to the In
dians, that they hasted away and would not call in at
the fort. But wherever we entered into houses, the
French were very courteous. AVhen we came to
St. Francis River we found some difiiculty by reason
of the ice ; and entering into a Frenchman's house, he
gave us a loaf of bread and some fish to carry away
with us; but we passed down the river till night, and
there seven of us suppi;il on a fish called bullhead or
pout, and did not eat it up, the fish was so very lari_'e.
The next morning wc mot with such a great quan
tity of ice, that wc were forced to leave our canoe and
travel on land. We went to a French oflieer's housi^,
who took us into a private room, out ofthe sight of the
Indians, and treated us very courteously. That niijlit
wc arrived at the fort called St. Framois ; where we
found several poor children who had been taken from
the Eastward the summm- before ; a sight very affect
ing, they being in habit very much like Indians, and in
manners very much symbolizing with them. At this
fort lived two Jesuits, one of w liicli was made Superior
of the Jesuits at Quebeck. One of these Jesuits met
me at the fort gate, and asked rae to go into the church
and give God thanks for preserving my life. I told
him I would do that in some other place. When the
bell rang for evening prayers, he that took me bid me
go, but I refused. The Jesuit came to our wigwam

28 THE REDEEMED CAPTIVE
and prayed a short prayer, and invited me to sup with
them, and justified the Indians in what they did against
us, rehearsing some things done by Major Walden
above thirty years ago, and how justly God retaliated
them in the last war, and inveighed against us for be
ginning this war with the Indians, and said we had be
fore the last winter and in the winter been very barba
rous and cruel in burning and killing Indians. I told
them that the Indians, in a very perfidious manner, had
committed murders on many of our inhabitants after
the signing articles of peace ; and as to what they
spake of cruelties, they were undoubtedly falsehoods,
for I well knew the English were not approvers of any
inhumanity or barbarity towards enemies. They said
an Englishman had killed one of St. Casteen's rela
tions, which occasioned this war ; for, say they, the
nations, in a general council, had concluded not to en
gage in the war on any side till they themselves were
first molested, and then all of them as one would en
gage against thera that began a war with them ; and
that upon the killing of Casteen's kinsman a post was
despatched to Canada to advertise the Macquas and
Indians that the English had begun a war; on which
they gathered up their forces, and that the French
joined with them to come down on the Eastern parts ;
and that when they came near New England, several
of the Eastern Indians told them of the peace made
with the English, and the satisfaction given thera from
the English for that raurder; but the Macquas told
them it was now too late, for they were sent for and
were now come, and would fall on them if without their
consent they made a peace with the English. Said

RETURNING TO ZION. 29
also, that a letter was shown to them from the Gover
nor of Port Eoyal, which, he said, was taken in an
English ship, being a letter from the Queen of Eng
land to our Governor, writing how she approved his
designs to ensnare and deceitfully seize on the Indians ;
so that being enraged from that letter, and being forced,
as it were, they began the present war. I told them
the letter was a lie, forged by the French.
The next morning the bell rang for mass. My mas
ter bid rae go to church ; I refused ; he threatened me,
and went away in a rage. At noon the Jesuit sent for
me to dine with them, for I ate at their table all Ihe
time I was at the fort; and after dinner they told me
the Indians would not allow of any of their captives
staying in their wigwams whilst they were at church,
and were resolved by force and violence to bring us
all to church if we would not go without. 1 told them
it was highly unreasonable so to impose upon those
who were of a contrary religion, and to force us to be
present at such a service as we abhorred, was nothing
beooraing Christianity. They replied, they were sav
ages, and would not hearken to reason, but would have
their wills. Said also, if they were in New England
themselves, they would go into their churches and see
their ways of worship. I answered, the case was far
different, for there was nothing (themselves being
judges) as to matter or manner of worship but what
was according to the word of God in our churches, and
therefore it could not be an offence to any man's con
science. But among thera there were idolatrous su
perstitions in worship. They said, " Come and see,
and offer us conviction of what is superetitious in wor-

30 THE REDEEMED CAPTIVE
ship." To which I answered, that I was not to do evil
that good might come of it, and that forcing in matters
of religion was hateful. They answered, " The In
dians are resolved to have it so, and they could not
pacify them without ray coming ; and they would en
gage they should offer no force or violence to cause
any compliance with their ceremonies." The next
mass, my master bid me go to church. I objected ; he
rose and forcibly pulled me by my head and shoulders
out ofthe wigwam to the church, which was nigh the
door. So I went in and sat down behind the door : and
there saw a great confusion, instead of any Gospel
order; for one of the Jesuits was at the altar saying
mass in a tongue unknown to the savages, and the
other, between the altar and the door, saying and sing
ing prayers among the Indians at the same time ; and
many others were at the same time saying over their
Pater-nosters and Ave Mary by tale from their chapelit,
or beads on a string. At our going out we smiled at
their devotion so managed, which was offensive to
them, for they said we made a derision of their wor
ship. When I was here a certain savagess died. One
of the Jesuits told me she was a very holy woman, who
had not committed one sin in twelve years. After a
day or two the Jesuits asked me what I thought of their
way now I saw it. I told them I thought Christ said of
it, as Mark vii. 7, 8, 9, " Howbeit, in vain do they wor
ship me, teaching for doctrines the commandments of
men. For laying aside the commandment of God, ye
hold the tradition of men, as the washing of pots and
cups ; and many other such like things ye do. And
he said unto them, Full well ye reject the command-

RETURNING TO ZION. 31
ment of God, that ye may keep your own tradition."
They told me they were not the commandments of
men, but apostolical traditions, of equal authority with
the Holy Scriptures ; and that after my death I would
bewail my not praying to the Virgin Mary, and that I
should find the want of her intercession for rae with her
Son; judging me to hell for asserting the Scriptures to
be a perfect rule of faith ; and said I abounded in my
own sense, entertaining explications contrary to the
sense of the Pope, regularly sitting with a General
Council, explaining Scripture and making articles of
faith. I told them it was my comfort that Christ was
to be ray judge, and not they, at the great day ; and
as for their censuring and judging me, I was not moved
with it.
One day a certain savagess taken prisoner in Phil
ip's war, who had lived at Mr. Bulkley's at Weathers-
field, called Ruth, who could speak English very well
and who had been often at my house, being now pros
elyted to the Eomish faith, came into the wigwam, and
with her an English maid who was taken in the last
war. She was dressed in Indian apparel, and was un
able to speak one word of English. She could neither
tell her own name nor the name of the place from
whence she was taken. These two talked in the In
dian dialect with my master a long time ; after which
my master bade me cross myself; I told him I would
not ; he commanded mc several times, and I as often
refused. Euth said, " Mr. \A'illiams, you know the
Scripture, and therefore act against your own light;
for you know the Scripture saith, ' Servants, obey
your masters ' ; he is your master and you his ser-

32 THE REDEEMED CAPTIVE
vant." I told her she was ignorant and knew not the
meaning of the Scripture ; telling her I was not to dis
obey the great God to obey my master, and that I was
ready to die and suffer for God if called thereto.
On which she talked with my master : I suppose she
interpreted what I said. My master took hold of my
hand to force me to cross myself, but I struggled with
hira, and would not suffer him to guide my hand.
Upon this he pulled off a crucifix from off his own neck,
and bade mg kiss it ; but I refused once and again.
He told me he would dash out my brains with his
hatchet if I refused. I told him I should sooner choose
death than to sin against God. Then he ran and took
up his hatchet and acted as though he would have
dashed out my brains. Seeing I was not moved, he
threw down his hatchet, saying he would bite off all my
nails if I still refused. I gave him my hand and told
him I was ready to suffer : he set his teeth in my
thumb. nail and gave a gripe, and then said, " No
good minister, no love God, as bad as the Devil," and
so left off. I have reason to bless God, who strength
ened me to withstand. By this he was so discouraged,
as never more to meddle with me about my religion.
I asked leave ofthe Jesuits to pray with those _English
of our town that were with me ; but they absolutely re
fused to give us any permission to pray one with an
other, and did what they could to prevent our having
any discourse together.
After a few days the Governor De Vaudrel, Governor-
in-chief, sent down two men with letters to the Jesuits,
desiring them to order my being sent up to him to
Montreal, upon which one of the Jesuits went with my

RETURNING TO ZION. 33
two masters, and took me along with them, as also two
more from Deerfield, a man and his daughter about
seven years of age. When we came to the lake, the
wind was tempestuous arid contrary to us, so that they
were afraid to go over; they landed and kindled a fire,
and said they would wait awhile to see whether the
wind would fall or change. I went aside from the
company among the trees, and spread our case, with
the temptations of it, before God, and pleaded that he
would order the season so that we might not go back
again, but be furthered on our voyage, that I might
have opportunity to see my children and neighbors,
and converse with them, and know their state. When
I returned, the wind was more boisterous, and then a
second time, and the wind was more fierce. 1 reflected
upon myself for my unquictness, and the want of a
resigned will to the will of God ; and a third time
went and bewailed before God my anxious cares, and
the tumultuous working of my own heart, begged a will
fully resigned to the will of God, and thought that by
his grace I was brought to say amen to whatever God
should determine. Upon my return to the company
the wind was yet high ; the Jesuit and my master said,
"• Come, we will go back again to the fort ; for there is
no likelihood of proceeding in our voyage, for very
frequently such a wind continues three days, some
times six, after it continued so many hours." 1 said
to them, " The will of the Lord be done " ; and the
canoe was put again into the river, and we embarked.
No sooner had my master put me into the canoe, and
put off from the shore, but the wind fell, and coming
into the middle of the river, they said, " We may go

34 THE REDEEMED CAPTIVE
over the lake well enough " ; and so we did. I prom
ised, if God gave me opportunity, I would stir up
others to glorify God in a continued persevering, com
mitting their straits of heart to him : he is a prayer-
hearing God, and the stormy winds obey him. After
we passed over the lake, the French, wherever we
came, were very compassionate to us.
AT MONTREAL.
When I came to Montreal, which was eight weeks*
after my captivity, the Governor, De Vaudrel, re
deemed me out of the hands of the Indians, gave me
good clothing, took me to his table, gave rae the use of
a very good chamber J and was, in all respects relating
to my outward man, courteous and charitable to ad
miration. At my first entering into his house, he sent
for my two children, who were in the city, that I might
see them ; and proraised to do what he could to get all
my children and neighbors out of the hands of the
savages. My change of diet, after the difficuldes of
my journeys, caused an alteration in my body : I was
physicked, and blooded, and very tenderly taken care
of in ray sickness. The Governor redeemed my eldest
daughter out of the hands of the Indians ; and she was
carefully tended in the hospital, until she was well of
her lameness; and by the Governor provided for re
spectfully, during her stay in the country. My young
est child was redeemed by a gentlewoman in the
city, as the Indians passed by. After the Indians
* Tuesday, April 25.

RETURNING TO ZION. 35
had been at their fort, and discoursed with the priests,
they came back and offered to the gentlewoman a man
for the child, alleging that the child could not be prof
itable to her, but the man would, for he was a weaver,
and his service would much advance the design she
had of making cloth ; but God overruled so far, that
this temptation to the woman prevailed not for an ex
change ; for had the child gone to the Indian fort, in
an ordinary way it had abode there still, as the other
children now do. The Governor gave orders to certain
officers to get the rest of my children out of the hands
of the Indians, and as many of my neighbors as they
could. After six weeks, a merchant of the city ob
tained my eldest son, that was taken, to live with him.
lie took a great ^deal of pains to persuade the savages
to part with hira. An Indian came to the city (Saga
more George of Pennacook) from Cowass, and brought
word of my son Stephen's being near that place; some
money was put into his hand for his redemption, and a
promise of full satisfaction if he brought him ; but the
Indian proved unfaithful, and I never saw my child till
a year after.
The Governor ordered a priest to go along with me
to see my youngest daughter among the Macquas, and
endeavor for her ransom. I went with him ; he was
very courteous to me, and from his parish, which was
near the Macqua fort, he wrote a letter to the Jesuit, to
desire him to send my child to see me, and to speak
with them that took her, to come also. But the Jesuit
wrote back a letter, that I should not be permitted to
speak with or see my child, and if I came my labor
would be lost ; and that the Macquas would as soon

36 THE REDEEMED CAPTIVE
part with their hearts as my child. At my return to
the city, I with a heavy heart carried the Jesuit's letter
to the Governor, who, when he read it, was very angry,
and endeavored to corafort me, assuring me I should
see her, and speak with her ; and he would do his ut
most endeavor for her ransom. Accordingly he sent
to the Jesuits who were in the city, and bid them im
prove their interest for the obtaining the child. After
some days, he went with me in his own person to the
fort. When we came thither, he discoursed with the
Jesuits. After which my child was brought into the
chamber where I was. I was told I might speak with
her, but should not be permitted to speak to any other
English person there. My child was about seven years
old ; I discoursed with her near an hour ; she could
read very well, and had not forgotten her Catechism ;
and was very desirous to be redeemed out of the hands
of the Macquas, and bemoaned her state among them,
telling me how they profaned God's Sabbath, and said,
she thought that, a few days before, they had been
mocking the Devil, and that one of the Jesuits stood
and looked on them. I told her, she must pray to God
for his grace every day ; she said, she did as she was
able, and God helped her. " But," says she, " they
force me to say some prayers in Latin, but I don't
understand one word of them ; I hope it won't do me
any harm." I told her she must be careful she did not
forget her Catechism and the Scriptures she had learnt
by heart. She told the captives after I was gone, as
sorae of them have since informed me, almost every
thing I spake to her ; and said she was much afraid
she should forget her Catechism, having none to in-

RETURNING TO ZION. 37
Struct her. I saw her once a few days after in the
city, but had not many minutes of time with her ; what
time I had I improved to give her the best advice I
could. The Governor labored much for her redemp
tion : at last he had the promise of it, in case he would
procure for them an Indian girl in her stead. Accord
ingly he sent up.the river some hundred of leagues for
one, and when offered by the Governor it was refused.
Ho offered then an hundred pieces of eight for her re
demption, but it was refused. His lady went over to
have begged her from them, but all in vain ; she is
there still ; and has forgotten to speak English. O
that all who peruse this history would join in their
fervent requests to God, with whom all things are pos
sible, that this poor child, and so many others of our
children who have been cast upon God from the womb,
and are now outcasts ready to perish, might be gath
ered from their dispersions, and receive sanctifying
grace from God I
When I had discoursed with the child, and was com
ing out of the fort, one of the Jesuits went out of the
chamber with me, and some soldiers to convey me to
the canoe. I saw some of my poor neighbors, who
stood with longing expectations to see me, and speak
with me, and had leave from their savage masters so
to do. I was by the Jesuit himself thrust along by
force, and permitted only to tell them some of their re
lations they asked after were well in the city, and that
with a very audible voice ; being not permitted to
come near to them.
After my return to the city, I was very melancholy,
for I could not be permitted so much as to pray with

38 THE REDEEMED CAPTIVE
the English who dwelt in the same house ; and the
English who came to see me were most of them put
back by the guard at the door, and not suffered to come
and speak with me. Sometimes the guard was so
strict, that I could scarce go aside on necessary occa
sions without a repulse ; and whenever I went out into
the city (a favor the Governor himself never refused
when I asked it of him) there were spies to watch me
and to observe whether I spake to the English. Upon
which I told some of the English they must be careful
to call to mind and iraprove former instructions, and
endeavor to stand at a further distance for a while,
hoping that after a short time I should have more lib
erty of conversing with them. But some spies sent
out found on a Sabbath day more than three of us in
company together, the number we, by their order pub
lished, were not to exceed, who inforraed the priest.
The next day one of the priests told me I had a great
er nuraber of the English with rae, and that I had
spoken something reflecdng on their religion. I spake
to the Governor that no forcible means might be used
with any of the captives respecting their religion. He
told me he allowed no such thing. I am persuaded
that the Governor, if he might act for himself, would
not have suffered such things to be done as have been
done, and that he never did kriow of several things
acted against the English.
At my first coming to Montreal, the Governor told
me I should be sent home as soon as Captain Battis
was returned, and not before ; and that I was taken in
order to his^ redemption. The Governor sought by all
means to divert me from my melancholy sorrows, and

RETURNING TO ZION. 39
always showed a willingness for my seeing my chil
dren. One day I told him of my design of walking
into the city: he pleasantly answered, "Go with all
my heart." His eldest son went with me as far as the
door, and saw the guard stop me. He went and in
forraed his father, who came to the door and asked
why they affronted the gentleman going out. They said
it was their order. But with an angry countenance
he said his orders were that 1 should not be stopped.
But within a little time I had orders to go down to
Quebeck. Another thing showed that many things are
done without the Governor's consent, though his name
be used to justify them; viz., I asked the jiriest, after
I had been at Montreal two days, leave to go and see
my youngest child. He said, " Whenever you would
see her, tell me, and I will bring her to you ; for," says
he, "the Governor is not willing you should go thith
er." And yet, not many days after, when we were
at dinner, the Governor's lady (seeing rae sad) spake
to an officer at table who could speak Latin to tell me
that after dinner I should go along with them and see
my two children. And accordingly aftejr din ner 1 was
carried to see them ; and when I came to the house, I
found three or four English captives who lived there,
and I had leave to discourse with them. And not long
after, the Governor's lady asked me to go along with
her to the hospital to see one of my neighbors who
was sick there.
One day one of the Jesuits came to the Governor
and told the company there that he never saw such
persons as were taken from Deerfield. Saitl he, " The
Macquas will not suffer any of their prisoners to abide

40 THE REDEEMED CAPTIVE
in their wigwams whilst they themselves are at mass,
but carry thera with thera to the church, and they can
not be prevailed with to fall down on their knees to
pray there ; but no sooner are they returned to their
wigwams, but they fall down on their knees to prayer."
He said they could do nothing with the grown persons
there, and they hindered the children's complying.
Whereupon the Jesuits counselled the Macquas to sell
all the grown persons frora the fort ; a stratagem to
seduce poor children. O Lord, turn the counsels of
these Ahithophels into foolishness, and raake the coun
sels of the heathens of none effect !
Here I observed they were wonderfully lifted up
with pride after the return of Captain Montinug from
Northampton with news of success. They boasted of
their success against New England. And they sent
out an army, as they said, of seven hundred men, if I
mistake not, two hundred of which were French, in
corapany of which army went several Jesuits, and said
they would lay desolate all the places on the Connect
icut River. The Superior of the priests told me their
general was a very prudent and brave commander, of
undaunted courage, and he doubted not but they should
have great success. This army went away in such a
boasting, triumphing manner, that I had great hopes
God would discover and disappoint their designs. Our
prayers were not wanting for the blasting of such a
bloody design. The Superior of the priests said to me,
" Do not flatter yourselves in hopes of a short captiv
ity ; for," said he, " there are two young princes con
tending for the kingdom of Spain " ; and for a third, that
care was to be taken of his establishment on the Eng-

RETURNING TO ZION. 41
lish throne : and boasted what they would do in Eu
rope ; and that we must expect, not only in Europe, but
in New England, the establishment of Popery. I said,
" Glory not ; God can make great changes in a little
time, and revive his own interest, and yet save his poor,
afflicted people." Said he, " The time for miracles is
past ; and in the time of the last war the King of
France was as it were against all the world, and yet
did very great things ; but now the kingdom of Spain
is for him, and the Duke of Bavaria, and the Duke of
Savoy," &c. ; and spake in a lofty manner of great
things to be done by them, and having the world, as I
may say, in subjection to them.
I was sent down to Quebeck in company of Gover
nor De Ramsey, Governor of Montreal, and the Supe
rior of the Jesuits, and ordered to live with one of the
Council ; from whom I received many favors, for seven
weeks. He told me it was the priests' doings to send
me down before the Governor came down ; and that if
I went much to see the English, or they came much
to visit me, I should yet certainly be sent away,
where I should have no conversation with the Eng
lish. AT QUEBECK.
After coming down to Quebeck, I was invited to dine
with the Jesuits: and to my face they were civil
enough. But after a few days a young gentleman came
to my chamber and told me that one of the Jesuits
(after we had done dinner) made a few districks of
verses, and gave them to his scholai-s to translate into
3

42 THE REDEEMED CAPTIVE
French. He showed them to me. The import of
thera was, that the King of France's grandson had sent
out his huntsmen, and that they had taken a wolf, who
was shut up, and now he hopes the sheep would be in
safety. I knew at the reading of them what they
aimed at, but held my peace, as though I had been ig
norant of the Jesuits' intention. Observing this re
proaching spirit, I said in my heart, " If God will bless,
let men curse if they please " ; and I looked to God in
Christ, the great Shepherd, to keep his scattered sheep
among so many Romish ravenous wolves, and to re
member the reproaches wherewith his holy name, ordi
nances, and servants were daily reproached. And
upon an observation of the time of these verses being
composed, I find that near the same time the Bishop
of Canada with twenty ecclesiastics were taken by the
English as they were coming from France, and car
ried into England as prisoners of war.
One Sabbath-day morning I observed many signs of
approaching rain, — a great moisture on the stones of
the hearth and chimney-jams. I was that day invited
to dine with the Jesuits ; and when I went up to dinner
it began to rain a small, drizzling rain. The Superior
told me they had been praying for rain that morning,
" and lo," says he, " it begins to rain ! " I told hira I
could tell him of many instances of God's hearing our
prayers for rain. However, in the afternoon there was
a general procession of all orders, — priests, Jesuits,
and friars, — and the citizens in great pomp, carrying
(as they said), as an holy relic, one of the bones of St.
Paul. The next day I was invited to the priests' Sem
inary to dinner. " O," said they, " we went in proces-

RETURNING TO ZION. 43
sion yesterday for rain, and see what a plentiful rain
followed!" I answered, "We had been answered
when praying for rain when no such signs of rain or
the beginnings of rain had preceded, as now with them,
before they appointed or began their procession," &c.
However, they upbraided me that God did not approve
of our religion, in that he disregarded our prayers and
accepted theirs. " For," said they, " we heard you had
days of fasting and prayer before the fieet came to
Quebeck. God would not regard your prayers, but
heard ours, and, almost in a miraculous way, preserved
us when assaulted, and refused to hear your fast-day
prayers for your preservation, but heard ours for your
desolation and our success." They boasted also of
their king and his greatness, and spake of him as
though there could be no settlement in the world but
as he pleased ; reviling us as in a low and languishing
case, having no king, but being under the government
of a queen ; and spake as though the Duke of Bavaria
would in a short timo be Emperor. From this day for
ward God gave them to hear sorrowful tidings Trom
Europe ; that a war had been commenced against the
Duke of Savoy, and so their enemies increased ; that
their bishop was taken, and two millions of wealth with
hira. News every year more distressing and impover
ishing to them ; and the Duke of Bavaria so far from
being Emperor that he was dispossessed of his duke
dom ; and France so far from being strengthened by
Spain, that the kingdom of Spain was like to be an oc
casion of weakening and impoverishing their own king
dom ; they themselves so reporting. And their great
army going against New England turned back ashamed ;

44 THE REDEEMED CAPTIVE
and they discouraged and disheartened, and every
year very exercising fears and cares as to the sav
ages who lived up the river.' Before the return of that
array, they told me we were led up and down and sold
by the heathens as sheep for the slaughter, and they
could not devise what they should do with us, we
should be so many prisoners when the array returned.
The Jesuits told rae it was a great mercy that so raany
of our children were brought to them, and that now,
especially since they were not like speedily to be re
turned, there was hope of their being brought over to
the Romish faith. They would take the English chil
dren born among them, and, against the consent of
their parents, baptize them. One Jesuit came to me
and asked whether all the English at Loret (a place
not far from Quebeck, where the savages lived) were
baptized. I told him they were. He said, " If they
be not, let rae know of it, that I may baptize them, for
fear they should diey and be damned if they die with
out baptism." Says he, " When the savages went
agairist you, I charged them to baptize all children be
fore they killed them ; such was my desire of your
eternal salvation, though you were our enemies."
There was a gentleman, called Monsieur de Beauville,
a captain, the brother of the Lord Intendant, who was
a good friend to me and very courteous to all the cap
tives ; he lent me an English Bible, and when he went
to France gave it to^me.
All means were used to seduce poor souls. I was
invited one day to dine with one of chief note. As I
was going, I met with the Superior ofthe Jesuits com
ing out of the house, and he came in after dinner ; and

RETURNING TO -ZION. 45
presently it was propounded to me, if I would stay
among them and be of their religion I should have a
great and honorable pension from the king eveiy year.
The Superior of the Jesuits turned to me and said :
" Sir, you have manifested much grief and sorrow for
your separation from so many of your neighbors and
children : if you will now comply with this offer and
proposal, you raay have all your children with you ; and
here will be enough for an honorable raaintenance for
you and them." I answered : " Sir, if I thought your
religion to be true, I would embrace it freely without
any such offer; but so long as 1 believe it to be what
it is, the offer of the whole world is of no more value
to me than a blackberry"; and manifested such an
abhorrence of this proposal, that I speedily went to take
my leave and begone. " O, Sir," said he, "sit down ;
— why in such a hurry .' You are alone in your
chamber; divert yourself a little longer"; and fell to
other discourse. And within half an hour says again :
" Sir, I have one thing earnestly to request of you ; I
pray you pleasure me." I said, " Let your Lordship
speak." Said he, " I pray come to the palace to-mor
row morning, and honor me with your company in my
coach to the great church, it being then a saint's day."
I answered,," Ask rae any thing wherein I can serve
you with a good conscience, and I am ready to gratify
you ; but I raust ask your excuse here"; and imme
diately went away from him. Returning to my cham
ber, I gave God thanks for his upholding me ; and also
made an inquiry with myself, whether I had by any
action given encouragement for such a temptation.

46 THE REDEEMED CAPTIVE
AT CHATEAUVICHE (fifteen miles below Quebeck).
Not many days after, and a few days before Gover
nor De Vaudrel's coming down, I was sent away fifteen
miles down the river, that I might not have an oppor
tunity of conversation with the English. I was cour
teously treated by the French and the priest of that
parish. They told me he was one of the most learned
men in the country. He was a very ingenious man,
zealous in their way, but yet very familiar. I had
many disputes with the priests who came thither ; and
when I used their own authors to confute some of their
positions, my books, borrowed of them, were taken
away from me, for they said I made an ill use of
them ; they having many of them boasted of their
unity in doctrine and profession, and were loath I should
show them, from their own best approved authors, as
many different opinions as they could charge against
us. Here, again, a gentleman, in the presence of the
old bishop and a priest, offered me his house and
whole living, with assurance of honor, wealth, and em
ployment, if I would erabrace their ways. I told them
I had an indignation of soul against such offers, on
such terms, as parting with what was more valuable
than all the world ; alleging, " What is a man profited
if he gain the whole world, and lose his own soul ? or
what shall a man give in exchange for his soul i " I
was sometiraes told I might have all my children if I
would comply, and must never expect to have them on
any other terms. I told thera ray children were dearer
to me than all the world, but I would not deny Christ
and his truths for the having of them with me ; I would

RETURNING TO ZION. 47
Still put my trust in God, who could perform all things
for me.
I am persuaded that the priest of that parish where I
kept, abhorred their sending down the heathen to com
mit ravages against the English ; saying it was more
like committing murders than managing a war. In my
confinement in this parish, I had my undisturbed op
portunities to be humbly imploring grace for ourselves,
for soul and body ; for his protecting presence with
New England, and his disappointing the bloody de
signs of his enemies ; that God would be a litde sanc
tuary to us in a land of captivity ; and that our friends
in New England might have grace to make a more
thankful and faithful improvement of the means of
grace than we had done, who by our neglects find our
selves out of God's sanctuary.
On the 21st of October, 1704,1 received some let
ters from New England, with an account that many of
our neighbors escaped out of the desolations in the fort,
and that my dear wife was decently buried, and that
my eldest son, who was absent in our desolation, was
sent to college and provided for; which occasioned
thanksgiving to God in the midst of afllictions, and
caused prayers even in Canada to be going daily up
to heaven for a blessing on benefactors showing such
kindness to the desolate and afllicted.
The consideration of such crafty designs to ensnare
young ones, and to turn them from the simplicity of
the Gospel to Romish superstition, was very exercising.
Sometimes they would tell me my children, sometimes
my neighbors, were turned to be of their religion.
Some made it their work to allure poor souls by flat-

48 THE REDEEMED CAPTIVE
teries and great promises, some threatened, some of
fered abusive carriage to such as refused to go to
church and be present at mass. Some they industri
ously contrived to get married among them. A priest
drew up a Compendium of the Romish Catholic Faith,
and pretended to prove it by the Scriptures, telling the
English that all they required was contained in the
Scriptures, which they acknowledged to be the rule of
faith and manners ; but it was by Scriptures horribly
perverted and abused. I could never come to the sight
of it (though I often earnesdy entreated a copy of it)
until I was on shipboard for our vogage to New Eng
land ; but hearing of it, I endeavored to possess the
English with their danger of being cheated with such
a pretence. I understood they would tell the English
that I was turned, that they might gain them to change
their religion. These their endeavors to seduce to
Popery were very exercising to me ; and, in my soli
tariness, I drew up some sorrowful, mournful consider
ations, though unused to and unskilled in poetry, yet in
a plain style, for the use of some of the captives, who
would sometimes make their secret visits to me, which,
at the desire of some of them, are here made public.
Some Contemplations of the Poor and Desolate State
of the Church at Deerfield.
The sorrows of my heart enlarged are,
¦Whilst I my present state with past compare.
I frequently unto God's house did go,
With Cliristiap friends his praises for to show ;
But now I solitary sit, both sigh and cry,
¦Whilst my flock's misery think on db I.

RETURNING TO ZION. 49
Many, both old and young, were slain outright;
Some in a bitter season took their fiight ;
Some burnt to death, and others stifled were :
The enemy no age or sex would spare.
The tender children, with their parents sad,
Aro carried forth as captives. Some unclad,
Some murdered in the way, unburied left ;
And some through famine were of life bereft.
After a tedious journey, some are sold,
Some left in heathen lands, all from Christ's fold,
By Popish rage and heath'nish cruelty,
Are banished. Yea, some coinpell'd to be
Present at mass. Young children parted are
From parents, and such as once instructors were.
Crafty designs are us'd by I'apists all,
In ignorance of truth them to enthrall :
Some threatened are, unless thoy will comply,
In heathen hands nfjain be made to lie.
To some, large promises arc made, if they
Will truths renounce, and choose tbeir Popish way.
O Lord I mine eyes on tlicc shall waiting be.
Till thou again turn onr captivity.
Their Romish plots tliou canst confound, and save
This little flock ; this mercy I do crave.
Save us from all our sins, and yet again
Deliver us from thcni who tt-uth disdain.
Lord ! for thy mercy sake tliy cov'nant mind.
And in thy house n^ain rest let us find.
So wc thy praises forth will show, and speak
Of all thy wondrous works ; yea, wc will seek
Tb' advancement of thy great and glorious n.ime ;
Tby rich and sovereign grace we will proclaim.
The hearts of some were ready to be discouraged
and sink, saying they were out of sight and so out of
mind. I endeavored to persuade them we were not
forgotten ; diat undoubtedly many prayore were going
up to heaven for us. Not long after came Captain

50 THE REDEEMED CAPTIVE
Livingston and Mr. Shelden, with letters from his Ex
cellency our Governor to the Governor of Canada
about the exchange of prisoners, which gave a revival
to many and raised expectation of a return. These
visits from New England to Canada so often greatly
strengthened many who were ready to faint, and gave
some check to the designs of the Papists to gain prose
lytes. But God's tirae of deliverance was not yet
come. As to some particular persons, their terapta-
tions and trials were increased, and some abused be
cause they refused compliance with their supersti
tions. A young woman of our town met with a new
trial. One day a Frenchman came into the room
where she was, and showed her his beads, and boast
ed of thera, putting them near to her. She knocked
them out of his hands on the floor : for which she was
beaten and threatened with death, and for some days
imprisoned. I pleaded with God his overruling this
first essay for the deliverance of some, as a pledge of
the rest being delivered in due time. I implored
Captain De Beauville, who had always been very
friendly, to intercede with the Governor for the return
of my eldest daughter, and for his purchasing my son
Stephen from the Indians at St. Francois fort, and for
liberty to go and see my children and neighbors at
Montreal. Divine Providence appeared to the moder
ating my afflictions, in that five English persons of our
town were permitted to return with Captain Livingston,
among whom went my eldest daughter. And my son
Stephen was redeemed and sent to live with me. He
was almost quite naked, and very poor. He had suf
fered much among the Indians. One of the Jesuits

RETURNING TO ZION. 51
took upon him to come to the wigwam and whip him,
on some complaints that the squaws had made, that
he did not work enough for them. As to my petition
for going up to Montreal to see my children and
neighbors, it was denied ; as my former desire of com
ing up to the city, before Captain Livingston's coming,
was. God granted me favor as to two of my petitions ;
but yet brought me by his grace to be willing that he
¦should glorify himself in disposing of me and mine as he
pleased, and knew to be most for his glory. And almost
always before any remarkable favor I was brought to
lie down at the foot of God, and made to be willing that
God should govern the world so as might be raost for
his own honor, and brought to resign all to his holy
sovereignty ; a frame of spirit, when wrought in me
by the grace of God, giving the greatest content and
satisfaction, and very often a forerunner of die mercy
asked of God, or a plain demonstration that the not ob
taining my request was best for mo. I had no sniall
refreshing in having one of my children with me for
four months. And the English were many of them
strengthened with hopes that the treaties betwixt the
governments would issue in opening a door of escape
for all.
In August, Mr. Dudley and Captain Vetch arrived,
and great encouragements were given as to an ex
change of all in the spring of the year ; and some few
again were sent home, amongst whom I obtained leave
to send my son Stephen.

52 THE REDEEMED CAPTIVE

AT QUEBECK.
Upon Mr. Dudley's and Captain Vetch's petitioning,
I was again permitted to go up to Quebec : but disput
ing with a mendicant friar, who said he was an Eng
lishman sent from France to endeavor the conversion
of the English at Quebec, I was, by the priests' means,
ordered again to return to Chateauviche ; and no other
reason given but because I discoursed with that priest,
and their fear that I should prevent his success among
the captives. But God showed his dislike of such a per
secuting spirit; for the very next day, which was Sep
tember 20, O. S., October 1st, N. S., the Seminary, a
very famous building, was most of it burnt down, oc
casioned by a joiner's letting a coal of fire drop
among the shavings. The chapel in the priests' gar
den, and the great cross, were burnt, and the library
of the priests burnt up. This Seminary and another
library had been burnt but about three years before.
The day after my being sent away by the priests from
Quebec, at first there was a thunder-storm, and the
lightning struck the Seminary in the very place where
the fire now began. AT CHATEAUVICHE.
A little before Mr. Dudley's arrival, came a soldier
into my landlord's house, barefoot and barelegged, go
ing on a pilgrimage to Saint Anne. " For," said he,
" my captain, who died some years ago, appeared to me
and told me he was in purgatory, and said I must go
a pilgrimage to Saint Anne, doing penance, and get a

RETURNING TO ZION. 53
mass said for him, and then he should be delivered."
And many believed it, and were much affected with it;
and came and told me of it, to gain my credit of their
devised purgatory. The soldier told me the priests had
counselled him to undertake this pilgrimage, and I am
apt to think ordered his calling in at my landlord's, that
I might see and speak with him. I laughed at the
conceit that a soldier must be pitched upon to be sent
on this errand ; but they were much displeased, and
lamented my obstinacy in that I would not be re
claimed from a denial of purgatory by such a mirac
ulous providence.
As I was able, I spread the cause before God, be
seeching him to disappoint them in their expectations
to proselyte any of the captives by this stratagem :
and, by the goodness of God, it was not very service
able ; for the soldier's conversation was such, that sev
eral among the French themselves judged it to be a
forgery ; and though the captain spoken of was the
Governor's lady's brother, I never more heard any con
cernment or care to got him out of purgatory.
One ofthe parish where I lived told me, that on the
22d of July, 1705, he was at Quebeck, at the mendi
cant friars' church, on one of their feast-days, in honor
of a great saint of their order, and that at five o'clock
mass in the morning, near two hundred persons being
present, a great gray cat broke or pushed against some
glass, entered into the church, and passed along near
the altar, and put out five or six candles that were burn-
'm<r ; and that no one could tell which way the cat went
out. And he thought it was the Devil.

54 THE REDEEMED CAPTIVE

AT QUEBECK.
When I was in the city in September, I saw two
English maids who had lived with the Indians a long
time. They told me that an Indian had died at the place
where they were, and that when sundry of his relations
were together in order to attend his funeral, the dead
arose and informed them, that at his death he went to
hell, and there he saw all the Indians that had been dead
since their embracing the Popish religion, and warned
them to leave it off or they would be damned too,
and laid down dead again. They said the Indians
were frightened and very melancholy. But the Jesu
its, to whom they told this, told them it was only a de
lusion of the Devil to draw them away frora the true
religion ; adding, that he knew for certain that all
those Indians who had been dead,. spoken of by that
Indian, were in heaven, only one squaw was gone to
hell, who died without baptism. These maids said also,
that many of the Indians much lamented their making
a war against the English, at the instigation of the
French. AT CHATEAUVICHE.
The priests, after Mr. Dudley's going from Canada,
were ready to think their time was short for gaining
English proselytes, and doubled their vigilance and
wiles to gain over persons to their persuasion. I im
proved all opportunities I could to write to the English,
that in that way I might be serviceable to them. But
many or most of my letters treating about religion

RETURNING TO ZION. 55
were intercepted and burnt. I had a letter sent down
to me, by order of the Governor, that I had liberty of
writing to my children and friends, which should be
continued, provided I wrote about indifferent things,
and said nothing in them about the points in contro
versy between them and us ; and if I was so hardy as
to write letters otherwise, they should endeavor to pre
vent their being delivered. Accordingly, I found many
of them w(;re burnt. Sometiraes notice would be given
to the English that they were burnt; so that their writ
ing was somewhat useful, though never perused by the
English, because they judged those letters condemned
Popery. Many of our letters written from New Eng
land were never delivered,' because of, some expres
sions about religion in them. And, as 1 said before,
after Mr. Dudley's departure from (iuebeck, endeavors
were very vigorous to seduce. Some were flattered
with large promises, others were threatened and beat
en because they would not turn. And when two Eng
lishwomen, who had always opposed thiir religion,
were sick in the hospital, they kept with them night
and day till they died, and their friends were kept from
coming to visit them. After their death, they gave
out that they died in the Eomish faith, and were re
ceived into their communion. Before their death,
masses were said for them, and they were buried in
the church-yard with all their ceremonies. And after
this, letters were sent into all parts to inform the Eng
lish that these two women turned to their religion be
fore their death, and that it concerned them to follow
their example ; for they could not be more obstinate
tlian those women were in their heahh against tlie

56 THE REDEEMED CAPTIVE •
Roraish faith, and yet on a death-bed they embraced
it. They told the English who lived near, that our re
ligion was a dangerous religion to die in. But I shall
hereafter relate the just grounds we have to think these
things were falsehoods.
I received a letter from one of my neighbors, where
in he thus bewails : " I obtained leave of my master to
go to the Macqua fort to see ray chOdren, that I had not
seen for a long tirae. I carried a letter frora ray mas
ter to show that I had leave to come. When I carae
to the fort, I heard that one of my children was in the
woods. I went to see a boy I had there, who lived
with one of the Jesuits. I had just asked him of his
welfare : he said his master would come presently ; he
durst not stay to speak with me now, being in such
awe of his master. On which I withdrew ; and when
his master came in, I went and asked leave of him to
speak with my child, and showed him my letter. But
he absolutely refused to let me see or speak with him ;
and said I had brought no letter from the Governor,
and would not permit me to stay in the fort, though I
had travelled on foot near fifty miles for no other
errand than to see and speak with my children."
The same person, with another Englishman, last
spring obtained leave of the Governor-General to go to
the sarae fort on the same errand, and carried letters
from the Governor to the Jesuits, that .he raight be per
mitted to speak with his children. The letter was de
livered to the Jesuits ; who told hira his son was not at
home, but gone a hunting ; whereas he was hid from
them, as he heard afterwards. So the poor raan lost his
labor a second time. These men say, that when they

RETURNING TO ZIO.V. 57
returned to Montreal, one Laland, who was appointed
as a spy always to observe the motions ofthe English,
told them that one of the Jesuits had come in before
them, and had told the Governor <hat the lad was gone
a hunting ; and that the Englishman who accompanied
this poor miin went out into the woods in hopes of
finding the lad, and saw him, but the lad run away ;
and that he followed him and called after him, but he
would not stop, but, holding out a gun, threatened to
shoot him down if he followed him, and so he was dis
couraged and turned back; and, says Laland, "You
will never leave going to see your children and neigh
bors till some of you are killed." Bnt the men told
him it was an absolute lio, let who would report it ; for
they had neither seem the lad, nor did they go into the
woods to search after him. They judge this was lold
to the Governor to prevent any Eni^lish for the future
going to see their children and neighbors. Some say
they have been promised to have their children w ho
are among the savages, in case they themselves would
embrace Popery; and that the priests had said ihey
had rather the children should be among the Indians,
as they were, than be brought out by the French, and
so be in a readiness to return for New England.
A maid of our town was put into a religious house
among the nuns for more than two years, and all sorts
of means, by flatteries, threatenings, and abusive car
riage, used to bring her to turn. They ofteied her
money, which, when refused, especially the latter part
of tho time, they threatened her very much ; sent for
her before them, commanded her to cross herself.
They ordered a rod w ith six branches full of knots to

58 THE REDEEMED CAPTIVE
be brought, and, when she refused, they struck her on
the hands, still renewing their commands.; and she
stood to her refu.sals till her hands were filled with
wales frora the blows. But one said, " Beat her no
more ; we will give her to the Indians if she will not
turn." They pinched her arms till they were black
and blue, and made her go into their church ; and be
cause she would not cross herself, struck her several
blows with their hands on her face. A squaw was
brought in, and said she was sent in to fetch her
to the Indians ; but she refused. The squaw went
away, and said she would bring her husband with her
to-morrow, and she should be carried away by force.
She told me she remembered what I told her one day,
after the nuns had threatened to give her away to the
Indians, — that they only said so to affright her ; that
they would never give her away. The nuns told her
she should not be permitted any more to speak to the
English, and that they would afflict her, without giving
her' any rest, if she refused. But God preserved her
from falling. This poor girl had many prayers going
up to heaven for her daily, and by name, because her
trials were more know*i to the English than the trials
of others who lived more remote from thera.
Here might be an history by itself of the trials and
sufferings of raany of our children and young ones,
who have been abused, and, after separation from
grown persons, made to do as they would have them.
I shall here give an account of what was done to
one of my children, a boy between fifteen and sixteen
years of age, two hundred miles distant frora me,
which occasioned a grief and sorrow that I want words

RETURNING TO ZION. 59
to utter ; and yet he was kept under such awe, that he
never durst write any thing to me, for fear of being
discovered in writing about religion. They threatened
to put him to the Indians again, if he would not turn ;
teUing him he was never bought out of their hands,
but only sojourned with them ; but if he would turn, he
should never be put into their hands any more. The
priests would spend whole days in urging him. He
was sent to school to learn to read and write French.
The schoolmaster sometimes flattered him with prom
ises if he would cross himself, then threatened him if
he would not. But when he saw fluttering promises
of rewards, and threatenings, were ineffectual, he
struck him with a stick he had in his hand ; and when
he saw that would not do, he raade him get down on
his knees about an hour, and then came and bid him
make the sign of the cross, and that without any de
lay. He still refused. Then he gave him u couple of
strokes with a whip he had in his hand, — which whip
had three branches, and about twelve great knots tied
to it, — and again bid him make the sign of the cross;
and if it was any sin, he would bear it himself; and
said also, " You are afraid you-shall be changed if you
do it ; but," said he, " you will be the same ; your fin-
c^eis wont be changed." And after he had made him
shed many tears under his abuses and threatenings, he
told him he would have it done : and so, through cow-
ardice'and fear of the whip, he made the sign, and did
so for several days together, and with much ado, he
vvas first brought to cross himself, and then the master
told him he would have it done without his particular
bidding him. And when he came to say his lesson and

60 THE REDEEMED CAPTIVE
crossed not himself, the master said, " Have you forgot
what I bid you do .? " " No, Sir," said he. Then die
schoolmaster said, "Down on your knees"; and so
kept hira for an hour and a half, till school was done ;
and so did for about a week. When he saw this
would not do, he took the whip. " What I wont you
do it ? " said he ; "I will make you " ; and so again
frightened him to a compliance. After this, he com
manded him to go to church. When he refused, he
told him he would make hira ; and one morning sent
four of the biggest boys of the school to draw him by
force to mass. These, with other severities and witty
stratagems, were used, and I utterly ignorant of any
attempt raade upon him to bring him to change his re
ligion. Hearing of an opportunity of writing to him
by one of the parish where I was, going up to Mont
real, I wrote a letter to him, and had by him a letter
from my son, which I shall here insert.
" Honored Father : —
" I have recejved your letter bearing date January
11th, 1705 - 6, for which 1 give you many thanks, with
my duty, and my brother's. I am sorry you have not
received all the letters I have wrote to you ; as I have
not received all yours. According to your good coun
sel, I do almost every day read something of the Bible,
and so strengthen ray faith. As to the captives newly
brought, Lancaster is the place of two of thera, and
Marlborough that of the third ; the Governor of Mont
real has them all three. There is other news that will
seem more strange to you, — that two Englishwomen,
who in their lifetime were dreadfully set against the

RETURNING TO ZION. 61
Catholic religion, did on their deathbed embrace it;
the one Abigail Turbet, the other of them Esther Jones,
both of them known to you. Abigail Turbet .sent for
Mr. Meriel the Sabbath before she died, and said
(many a time upon several following days) that she
committed her soul into his hands, and was ready to
do whatever he pleased. She desired him to go to the
chapel St. Anne, and there to say a holy mass for her,
that she might have her sins pardoned and the will of
the Lord accomplished upon her. Her cousin, Mrs.
Badston, now Stilson, asked her whether she would be
willing to do as she said. She answered, ' Yes.'
And upon the Tuesday she was taken into the Cath
olic Church in the presence of John Laland and Mad
am Grizalem, an Englishwoman, and Mrs. Stilson
also, with many French people besides. She was
anointed with oil on the same day, according to her
will then. Upon the Wednesday following, an image
of Christ crucified was brought to her. She caused it to
be set up over against her at the curtains of her bed,
and looked continually upon the same. And also a little
crucifix was brought unto her. She took it and kissed
it, and laid it upon her stomach. She did also make
the sign of the cross upon herself when she took any
meat or drink. She proraised to God, that, if she
should recover, she would go to the mass every day.
She, having on her hand a crucifix, said, ' O my Lord,
that I should have known thee so late ! ' She did also
make a prayer to the Virgin Mary, the two last days
of the week. She could utter no word ; but by kissing
the crucifix and endeavoring to cross herself, she gave
an evidence of her faith. She died Saturday, the 24lh

62 THE REDEEMED CAPTIVE
of November, at three o'clock in the afternoon. The
next day the priests did commend the woman's soul to
the prayers of the congregation in the mass. In the
afternoon she was honorably buried in the church-yard
next to the church, close to the body of the justice
Pese's wife ; all the people being present at her funer
al. The same day, in the evening, Mr. Meriel, with
an Englishwoman, went to Esther Jones. She did at
first disdain ; but a little while after, she confessed there
were seven sacraments, Christ's body present, the sa-
craraent of the Mass, the inequality of power among the
pastors of the Church ; and being returned to wait by
her all night long, he read and expounded to her some
of the Catholic Confession of Faith to her satisfaction.
About midnight he asked whether she might not con
fess her sins. ' I doubt not but I may,' said she ; and
two hours after, she made unto him fervent confession
of all the sins of her whole life. When he said he
was to offer Christ to his Father for her, she liked it
very well. The Superior of the nuns being come to
see her, she now desired that she might receive Christ's
body before she died. She did also show Mrs. Stilson
a great raind to receive the sacraraent of Extreme Unc
tion ; and said, that if ever she should recover and get
home, she would reproach the ministers for their neg
lecting that sacrament, so plainly commanded by St.
James. In the afternoon, after she had begged pardon
for her wavering, the- Catholic Confession of Faith
was read aloud to her, in the hearing of Mr. Craston,
Mrs. Stilson, and another Englishwoman, and she
owned the same. About seven o'clock the same day,
she said to Mr. Dubison, ' Shall not they give me the

RETURNING TO ZION. 63
holy communion ? ' But her tongue was then so thick,
that she could hardly swallow any thing. She was
then anointed with holy oil : but before, she said to Mr.
Meriel, ' Why have you not yet. Sir, forgiven my
sins .? ' In the night following, that priest and Mr.
Dubison were continually by her, and sometimes pray
ing to God in her name, and praying to the Virgin
Mary and other saints. She said also, ' I believe all ;
I am very glad Christ was offered to his Father for rae.'
Six or seven hours before she died, a crucifix was
showed to her by Mr. Dubison. She took it and laid it
upon her heart, and kissed it ; and then the nuns
hanged it, with a pair of beads, upon her neck. A
little before she died, Mr. Dubison asked her to pray
for hira in heaven. She promised him. So she gave
up the ghost on the 27th of November, at ten of the
clock, whilst the high mass was saying. She was
soon commended to the prayers. On the fourth day
of the week following, she was buried, after the mass
had been said for her. She was laid by Abigail
Turbet. "Januari/ 23d, 1705-6." t
I have here transcribed the letter in the very words
of it, without the least alteration. The same in sub
stance was sent to several other captives. \Mien I had
this letter, I presently knew it to be of Mr. Meriel's
composing ; but the messenger who brought the letter
brought word that my son had embraced their religion.
Afterwards, when some blamed him for letting me
know of it, because (they said) they feared my sorrow
would shorten my days, he told me he thought with

64 THE REDEEBIED CAPTIVE
himself, that, if he was in my case, he should be willing
to know the worst, and therefore told me as he would
have desired to have known if in my place. I thanked
him, acknowledging it a favor to let me know of it.
But the news was ready to overwhelm me with grief
and sorrow. I made my complaint to God, and
mourned before him ; sorrow and anguish took hold
upon me. I asked of God to direct me what to do, and
how to write, and find out an opportunity of conveying
a letter to him ; and coraraitted this difficulty to his
providence. I now found a greater opposition to a pa
tient, quiet, humble resignation to the will of God, than
I should otherwise have known, if not so tried. Here
I thought of my afflictions and trials, — my wife and
two children killed, and many of my neighbors ; and
myself, and so many of my children and friends, in a
Popish captivity, separated frora our children, not ca
pable to corae to them to instruct them in the way they
ought to go ; and cunning, crafty enemies, using all
their subtilty to insinuate into young ones such princi
ples as would be pernicious. I thought with myself
how happy many others were in that they had their
children with them, under all advantages to bring them
up in the nurture and admonition of the Lord ; whilst
we were separated one frora another, and our children
in great peril of erabracing damnable doctrines. O
that all parents who read this history would bless God
for the advantage they have of educating their chil
dren, and faithfully improve it ! I mourned when I
thought with myself that I had one child with the Mac
quas, a second turned to Popery, and a littie child, of
six years of age, in danger to be instructed in Popery ;

RETURNING TO ZION. 65
and knew full well that all endeavors would be used to
prevent my seeing or speaking with them. But in the
midst of all the.se, God gave me a secret hope that he
would magnify his power and free grace, and disap
point all their crafty designs. When I looked on the
right hand and on the left, all refuge failed, and none
showed any care for my soul. But God brought that
word to uphold me, " who is able to do exceeding abun
dantly above what we can ask or think." As also that,
" Is any thing too hard for God ? " I prayed to God
to direct me. I therefore replied with the following
letter. " Son Samuel : —
" Yours of January 23d I received, and with it had
the tidings that you had made an abjuration of the
Protestant faith for fhe Romish, — news that I heard
with the most distressing and sorrowful spirit. V, I
pity you, I mourn over you day and night I O, I pity
your weakness, that through the craftiness of man you
are turned from the simplicity of the Gospel I I per
suade myself you have done it through ignorance.
O, why have you neglected to ask a father's advice in
an affair of so great importance as the change of relig
ion .' God knows that the catechism in which I in
structed you is according to his word; and so will be
found in the day of judgment. O, consider and be
think yourself what you have done ! And whether you
ask me or not, my poor child, I cannot but pray for
you, that you may be recovered out of the snare you
fire taken in. Read the Bible ; pray in secret ; make
Christ's righteousness your only plea before God for

66 THE REDEEBIED CAPTIVE
justification ; beware of all immorality, and of profan
ing God's Sabbaths. Let a father's advice be asked,
for the future, in all things of weight and moment.
' What is a man profited, if he gain the whole world,
and lose his own soul ? Or what shall a man give in
exchange for his soul ? ' I desire to be humbled un
der the mighty hand of God thus afflicting me." I
would not do as you have done for ten thousand
worlds. My heart aches within me, but I will yet
wait upon the Lord. To him will I commit your case
day and night. He can perform all things for me and
mine, and can yet again recover you from your fall.
He is a ' God, forgiving iniquity, transgression, and
sin. To the Lord our God belong forgivenesses)
though we have rebelled.' I charge you not to be in
strumental to ensnare your poor brother Wareham, or
any other, and so add sin to sin. Accept of my love,
and don't forsake a father's advice, who above all things
desires that your soul may be saved in the day of
the Lord."
What I mournfully wrote, I followed with ray poor
cries to God in heaven to make effectual, to cause in
him a consideration of what he had done. God saw
what a proud heart I had, and what need I had to be
so answered out of the whirlwind, that I might be hum
bled before him. Not having any answer to my letter
for some weeks, I wrote the following letter, as I was
enabled of God, and sent to him by a faithful hand ;
which, by the blessing of God, was made effectual for
his good, and the good of others, who had fallen to
Popery ; and for the establishing and strengthening of

RETURNING TO ZION. 67
others to resist the essays of the Adversary to truth.
God brought good out of this evil, and made what was
designed to promote their interest an occasion of
shame to them.
" Son Samuel : —
" I have waited till now for an answer from you,
hoping to hear from you why you made an abjuration
of the Protestant faith for the Romish. But since you
continue to neglect to write to rae about it, as you neg
lected to take any advice or counsel frora a father
when you did it, I cannot forbear writing again, and
making some reflections on the letter you wrote me
last, about the two women. It seems to me, from
those words of Abigail Turbet's in your letter, or rather
of Mr. Meriel's, which you transcribed for him, —
'Abigail Turbet sent for Mr. Meriel, she committed
her soul into his hand, and was ready to do whatever
he pleased,' — I say, it seems rational to believe that
she had not the use of her reason : it is an expression
to be abhorred by all who have any true sense of re
ligion. Was Mr. Meriel a God, a Christ ? Could he
bear to hear such words and not reject them, replying,
' Don't commit your soul into my hands, but see that
vou commit your soul into the hands of God through
Christ Jesus, and do whatever God commands you in
his holy word. As for me, I am a creature, and can
not save your soul, but will tell you of Acts iv. 12 :
" Neither is there salvation in any other ; for there is
no other name under heaven given among men where
by we must be saved." ' Had he been a faithful min
ister of Jesus Christ, he would have said, ' It is an

68 THE REDEEMED CAPTIVE
honor due to Christ alone.' The holy Apostle says,
' Now unto him that is able to keep you, and present
you faultless before the presence of his glory, with ex
ceeding joy, to the only wise God our Saviour, be
glory and majesty, dominion and power, both now and
ever. Amen.' (Jude, ver. 24, 25.) As to what you
write about praying to the Virgin Mary and other
saints, I make this reply : Had Mr. Meriel done his
duty, he would have said to them, as 1 John ii. 1,2, 'If
any man sin, we have an advocate with the Father,
Jesus Christ the righteous ; and he is the propitiation
of our sins.' The Scriptures say, ' There is one God,
and one mediator between God and man, the man
Christ Jesus.' Yea, Christ said, ' Go and preach. He
that believeth and is baptized shall be saved.' The
Apostle, in Gal. i. 8, saith, ' But though we or an angel
frora heaven preach any other gospel unto you than
that we have preached to you, let hira be accursed.'
They never preached that we should pray to the Virgin
Mary, or other saints. As you would be saved, hear
what the Aposde saith, Heb. iv. 13, &c. : ' Neither is
there any creature that is not manifest in his sight ;
but all things are naked and open unto the eyes of him
with whom we have to do. Seeing, then, that we have
a great high-priest, that is entered into heaven, Jesus
the Son of God, let us hold fast our profession. For we
have not an high-priest that cannot be touched with
the feeling of our infirmities, but was in all points
tempted like as we are, yet without sin. Let us there
fore come boldly unto the throne of grace, that we
may obtain mercy and find grace to help in time of
need.' Which words do hold forth, how that Jesus

RETURNING TO ZION. 69
Christ is in every respect qualified to be a mediator
and intercessor; and I ara sure they cannot be applied
to any mere creature, to make them capable of our
religious trust. When Roman Catholics have said all
they can, they are not able to prove that the saints in
heaven have a knowledge of prayers which are direct
ed to them. Some say they know them one way ;
others say they have the knowledge of them in an
other way, — that they know of them from their behold
ing the face of God ; seciing God, they know these
prayers. But this is a great mistake. Though the
saints see and know God in a glorious manner, yet
they have not an infinite knowledg(^ ; and it does no
ways follow, that, because they see God, they know all
prayers that are directed to them upon the earth. And
God has nowhere in his word told us that the saints
have such a knowledge. Besides, were it a thing
possible for them to have a knowledge of what prayers
are directed to them, it does not follow that they are to
be prayed to, or have religious honor conferred upon
them. The Romanists can neither give one Scripture
precept or example for praying to them : but Cod has
provided a mediator, who knows all our petitions, and
is faithful and merciful enough ; and we have both
Scripture precept and example to look to him as our
mediator and advocate with the Father. Further, it
cannot be proved that it is consistent with the saints
being creatures, as well as with their happiness, to
ha\e a knowledge of prayers from all parts of the
world at the same time, from raany millions together,
about things so vastly ditfering one from another ; and
then to present those supplications for all that look to

70 THE REDEEMED CAPTIVE
them is not huraility, but will-worship. Col. ii. 18,
' Let no man beguile you of your reward, in a volun
tary humility, worshipping of angels ' ; ver. 23, ' which
things indeed have a show of wisdora and will-worship
and humility.' For what humility can it be to distrust
the way that God has provided and encouraged us to
corae to him in, and impose upon God a way of our
own devising ? Was not God angry with Jeroboam
for imposing upon him after such a sort ? 1 Kings
xii. 33, ' So he offered upon the altar which he had
made in Bethel, the fifth day of the eighth month,
which he devised of his own heart.' Therefore Christ
saith, Mark vii. 7, ' Howbeit, in vain do they worship
me, teaching for doctrines the commandments of men.'
Before the coming of Christ and his entering into
heaven as an intercessor, — Heb. vii. 25, ' Wherefore
he is able to save them to the uttermost that come to
God by him, seeing he ever liveth to raake intercession
for them,' — I say, before Christ's entering into heaven
as an intercessor, not one word of any prayer to
saints. What reason can be given that now there is
need of so raany saints to raake intercession, when
Christ as a priest is entered into heaven to make inter
cession for us .' The answer that the Romanists give
is a very fable and falsehood ; viz. that there were no
saints in heaven till after the resurrection and ascen
sion of Christ, but were reserved in a place called
Limbus Patrura, and so had not the beatifical vision^
See Gen. v. 24 : ' Enoch walked with God and was
not, for God took him.' If he was not taken into
heaven, what can be the sense of those words, ' for
God took him'? Again, 2 Kings ii. 1, ' When the

RETURNING TO ZION. 71
Lord would take up Elijah.into heaven by a whirlwind,'
ver. 11, 'there appeared a chariot of fire, and horses
of fire, and parted thera both asunder, and Elijah went
up by a whirlwind into heaven.' Must the truth of the
Scripture be called in question to uphold their notions ?
Besides, it is not consistent with reason to suppose that
Enoch and Elias, instead of having a peculiar privilege
vouchsafed to them for their eminence in holiness,
should be less happy for so long a time than the rest
of the saints deceased, who are glorified in heaven ;
which must be, if they are yet kept, and must be till
the day of judgment, out of heaven and the beatifical
vision, in an earthly paradise, according to some of the
Romanists ; or in some other place, they know not
where, according to others. Eeligious worship is not
to be given to the creature. Mat. iv. 9, 10, ' And saith.
All these things will 1 give thee, if thou wilt fall down
and worship me. Then saith Jesus to him. Get thee
hence, Satan ; for it is written, Thou shalt worship the
Lord thy God, and him only shalt thou serve.' That
phrase, ' and him only shalt thou serve,' excludes all
creatures. Eev. xxii. 8, 9, ' I fell down to worship be
fore the feet of the angel which showed me these
things ; then saith he to me. See Uiou do it not, for I
am thy fellow-servant, and of thy brethren the proph
ets, and of them which keep the sayings of this book:
worship God.' Which plainly shows that God only is
to be worshipped with a religious worsliip. None can
think that St. John intended to give the highest divine
worship to the angel, who saith. Do not fall down and
worship me ; it is God's due, worship God. So Acts
X. 25, 26, 'As Peter was coming in, Cornelius met

72 THE REDEEMED CAPTIVE
hira, and fell down at his feet and worshipped him ;
but Peter took him up, saying. Stand up ; I myself also
am a man.' See also Lev. xix. 10. The words of the
second commandment, — which the Romanists either
leave out, or add to the first commandment, saying,
' Thou shalt have no other gods before me,' adding,
&c., — I say, the words of the second commandment
are, ' Thou shalt not make to thyself any graven
image, or any likeness of any thing that is in heaven
above, or that is in the earth beneath, or that is in the
waters under the earth ; thou shalt not bow down thy
self to thera, nor serve thera, for I the Lord thy God
ara a jealous God,' &c. These words being inserted
in the letter that carae from your brother Eleazer in
New England, the last summer, was the cause of the
letter's being sent down from Montreal, and not given
to you when so near you, as I" suppose, there being no
other clause of the letter that could be objected against ;
and the reason why found at Quebeck, when I sent it to
you a second time, inclosed in a letter written by my
self. The brazen serpent made by divine appointment
as a type of Christ, when abused to superstition, was by
reforming Hezekiah broken in pieces. As to what the
Eoraanists plead about the lawfulness of iraage and
saint worship from those likenesses of things made in
Solomon's temple, it is nothing to the purpose. We
do not say it is unlawful to raake or have a picture, but
those carved images were not in the temple to be
adored, bowed down to, or worshipped. There is no
manner of consequence, that because there were im
ages made in Solomon's teraple that were not raade
and worshipped, that therefore it is now lawful to

RETURNlffG TO ZION. 73
make and fall down before images, and pray to them,
and so worship them. Religious worshipping of saints
cannot be defended from, but is forbidden in, the Scrip
tures ; and for fear of losing their disciples, the Eo-
manists keep away from them the Bible, and oblige
them to believe as they say they must believe. As
though there was no use to be raade of our reason
above our souls ; and yet the Bereans were counted
noble, for searching the Scriptures to see whether the
things preached by St. Paul were so or not. They
dare not allow you liberty to speak with your father or
others, for fear their errors should be discovered to
you. "Again, you write that Esther Jones confessed that
there ' was an inequality of power among the pastors
of the Church.' An argument to convince the world,
that because the priests, in fallacious ways, caused a
woman distempered with a very high fever, if not dis
tracted, to say she confessed there was an inequality of
power among the pastors of the Church, therefore all
the world are obliged to believe that there is a Pope :
an argument to be sent from Dan to Beersheba, every
where, where any English captives are, to gain their
belief of a Pope. Can any rational man think that
Christ, in the sixteenth chapter of Matthew, gave St.
Peter such a power as the Papists speak of, or that the
disciples so understood Christ, wdien immediately there
arose a dispute among them who should be the greatest
in the kingdom of heaven.' Matt, xviii. 1, 'At the
same time came the disciples of Jesus, saying, Who is
the greatest in the kingdom of heaven ? ' The Eock
spoken of in the sixteenth of Matthew, not the person

74 THE REDEEMED CAPTIVE
of Peter, but the confession made by him ; and the
same power is given to all the disciples, if you com
pare one Scripture with another ; not one word in any
place of Scripture of such a vicarship power as of a
Pope, nor any solid foundation of proof that Peter had
a greater authority than the rest of the Apostles. 1 Cor.
iv. 6, ' That you might learn in us not to think of men
above that which is written.' Yea, the Apostie con
demns them, 1 Cor. i. 12, for their contentions, one
saying, I am of Paul, I of Apollos, and I of Cephas ;
no more of Peter's being a foundation than any of the
rest. ' For we are built upon the foundation of the
apostles and prophets, Jesus Christ hiraself being the
chief corner-stone.' Not one word in any of Peter's
Episdes showing that he had greater power than the
other Aposties. Nay, if the Scriptures give any prefer
ence, it is to St. Paul rather than St. Peter. 1 Cor. iii.
10, ' According to the grace of God which is given to
me, as a wise master-builder, I have laid the founda
tion.' 1 Cor. V. 3, 4, ' For I verdy, as absent in body,
but present in spirit, have judged already, as though I
were present, concerning him that hath so done this
deed ; in the narae of our Lord Jesus Christ, when ye
are gathered together, and my spirit, with the power of
our Lord Jesus Christ,' &c. 1 Cor. vii. 1, ' Now con
cerning the things whereof ye wrote to me ' ; applica^
tion made, not to St. Peter, but Paul, for the decision
of a controversy or scruple. 1 Cor. xi. 2, ' Now I
praise you, brethren, that you remember me in all
things, and keep the ordinances as I delivered them to
you.' Either those spoken, Acts xv., or in his minis
try and Episdes. 2 Cor. ii. 10, ' For your sake forgive

RETURNING TO ZION. 75
I it, in the person of Christ.' 2 Cor. xi. 28, ' That
which cometh upon me daily, the care of all the
churches.' 2 Cor. xii. 11, 12, 'For in nothing am I
behind the very chiefest of the Apostles, though I be
nothing. Truly the signs of an Apostle were wrought
among you, in all patience, in signs and wonders and
mighty deeds'; and in other places. Again, if you
consult Acts XV., where you have an account of the
first synod or council, you will find that the counsel or
sentence of the Aposde James is followed, ver. 19,
' Wherefore my sentence is,' &-c. ; not a word that St.
Peter was chief. Again, you find Peter himself sent
forth by the other Apostles. Acts viii. 11, 'The
Apostles sent unto thera Peter and John.' When the
church of the Jews found fault with Peter for going
in to the Gentiles when he went to Cornelius, he does
not say, Why do you question me, or call mo to ac
count ? I am Christ's vicar on earth. When Paul re
proved Peter, Gal. ii., he does not defend himself by
mentioning an infallibility in himself as Christ's vicar,
or reprove Paul for his boldness.
"Tho Eoman Catholic Church cannot be a true
Church of Christ, in that it makes laws directly contra
ry to the laws and commands of Christ. As, for ex
ample, in withholding the wine or the cup frora the
laity in the Lord's Supper ; when as Christ commands
the same to drink who were to eat. Their evasion,
that the blood is in the body, and so they partake of
both in eating, is a great fallacy, built on a false foun
dation of transubstantiation. For when men eat, they
cannot be said to drink, which Christ commands ; for
Christ coramands that we take the cup and drink,

76 THE REDEEMED CAPTIVE
which is not done in eating ; besides, the priests them
selves will not be so put off. The words, ' This is my
body,' doth only intend, this doth signify or repre
sent my body ; which will appear if you compare
scripture with scripture ; for after the consecration the
Holy Ghost calls it bread, and the fruit of the vine.
Exod. xii. 11, ' It is the Lord's Passover ' ; that is, it rep
resents it. In all the Evangelists you read of kilting and
eating the passover, a few lines or verses before these
words, ' This is my body ' ; which plainly show, that our
Saviour in the same way of figurative expression speaks
of the Gospel sacraraent. If these words were taken
as the Eomanists expound them, he must eat his own
body himself, whole and entire in his own hands ; and
after that each of the disciples eat him entire, and yet
he sit at the table whole, untouched at the same time ;
contradictions impossible to be defended by any ra
tional arguments. Yea, his whole body must be now
in heaven, and in a thousand other places, and in the
mouth of every communicant at the same time, and
that both as a broken and unbroken sacrifice, and be
subject to putrefaction. Christ is said to be a door, a true
vine, a way, a rock. What work shall we make, if we
expound these in a literal manner, as the Eomanists
do, when they say, ' This is my body,' is meant the
real body of Christ in the Eucharist .' It is said, 1 Cor.
X. 4, ' And did all drink of the sarae spiritual drink, for
they drank of that spiritual rock that followed thera,
and that rock was Christ.' W^as Christ literally a
rock, think you > Yea, it is absurd to believe that a
priest, uttering a few words over a wafer not above an
inch square, can make it a God, or the body of Christ

RETURNING TO ZION. 77
entire, as it was offered on the cross. A blasphemy
to pretend to a power of making God at their pleasure,
and then eat him, and give him to others to be eaten,
or shut him up in their altars ; that they can utter the
same words, and make a God or not make a God, ac
cording to their intention ; and that the people are
obliged to believe that it is God, and so adore it, when
they never hear any word of consecration, nor know
the priest's intention.
" As to what you write about the Holy Mass, I reply,
It is wholly an human invention ; not a word of such a
sacrifice in the whole Bible ; its being a sacrifice pro
pitiatory daily to be offered, is contrary to the Holy
Scriptures. Heb. vii. 27, ' Who needeth not daily, as
those high-priests, to offer up sacrifice, first for his own
sins, and then for the people's ; for this he did once
when he offered up himself And yet the Eomanists
say there is need that he be offered up as a sacrifice to
God every day. Heb. ix. 12, ' By his own blood he
entered in once into the holy place, having obtained
eternal redemption for us.' 25-28, ' Nor yet that he
should offer hiraself often, as the high-priest entereth
into the holy place every year with the blood of
others ; for then raust he often have suffered since the
foundation of the world : but now once in the end of
the world hath he appeared to put away sin by the sac
rifice of himself As it is appointed unto men once to
die, but after this the judgment, so Christ was once
offered to bear the sins of many.' Heb. x. 10, ' By
which will we are sanctified, 'through the offering of
the body of Jesus Christ once for all.' Ver. 12, ' But
this man, after he had offered one sacrifice for sins,

78 THE REDEEMED CAPTIVE
for ever sat down on the right hand of God.' Ver. 14,
' For by one offering he hath perfected for ever tliem
that are sanctified.' By which Scripture you may see
that the mass is not of divine appointment, but an hu
man invention. Their evasion of a bloody and an un
bloody sacrifice is a sham. The Holy Scriptures speak
not one word of Christ's being offered as a sacrifice
propitiatory, after such a sort as they call an unbloody
sacrifice. All the cereraonies of the mass are human
inventions, that God never commanded.
" As to what is in the letter about praying for the
woraen after their death, is very ridiculous : for as
the tree falls, so it lies; as death leaves, judgraent
will find. No change after death from an afflicted to
an happy place and state. Purgatory is a fancy for
enriching the clergy and impoverishing the laity. The
notion of it is a fatal snare to many souls, who sin with
hopes of easily getting priestiy absolution at death, and
buying off their torments with their money. The soul
at death goes immediately to judgment, and so to
heaven or hell. Mr. Meriel told me, if I found one
error in our religion, it was enough to cause me to dis
own our whole religion. By his argument you raay
see what reason you have to avoid the religion that is
so full of errors.
" Bethink yourself, and consult the Scriptures, if you
can get them (I mean the Bible). Can you think
their religion is right, when they are afraid to let you
have an English Bible ; or to speak with your father,
or other of your Christian neighbors, for fear they
would give you such convictions of truth that they can
not remove ? Can that religion be true that cannot

RETURNING TO ZION. 79
bear an examination from the Scriptures, that are a
perfect rule in matters of faith ; or that must be upheld
by ignorance, especially ignorance of the Holy Scrip
tures .?
" These things have I written as in my heart I be
lieve. I long for your recovery, and will not cease to
pray for it. I am now a man of a sorrowful spirit, and
look upon your fall as the most aggravating circum
stance of my afflictions; and am persuaded that no
pains will be wanting to prevent me from seeing or
speaking with you ; but I know that God's grace is all-
sufficient : ' He is able to do exceeding abundantly
above what I can ask or think.' Do not give way to
discouragement as to your return to New England.
Eead over what I have written, and keep it with you, if
you can ; you have no friend on earth that wisheth
your eternal salvation more heartily than your father.
I long to see and speak with you, but I never forget
you. My love to you, and to your brother and sister,
and to all our fellow-prisoners. Let me hear from you
as often as you can. I hope God will appear for us
before it be long.
" There are a great many other things in the letter
that deserve to be refuted, but I should be too tedious
in remarking them all at once. Yet would not pass
over the passage in the letter, that Esther Jones con
fessed that there were seven sacraments. To w hich I
answer, that some of the most learned ofthe Romish
religion confessed, without the distracting pains of a
violent fever, and left it on record in print, that it can
not be convincingly made out from thei Scripture that
there are seven sacraments ; and that tlieir most incon-

80 THE REDEEMED CAPTIVE
testable proof is from tradition, and by their traditions
they might have found seventeen as well as seven ;
considering that four Popes, successively, spent their
lives in purging and correcting old authors. But no
men can out of the Holy Scriptures prove any more
than two sacraments of divine institution under the
New Testament ; namely, Baptism and the Lord's
Supper. If you make the Scriptures a perfect rule of
faith, as you ought to do, you cannot believe as the
Roraish Church believes. O, see that you sanctify the
Lord himself in your heart, and make him your fear
and your dread. ' Fear not them that can kill the
body, and after that have no more that they can do ;
but rather fear him that has power to destroy soul and
body in hell-fire.' The Lord have mercy upon you,
and show you mercy for the worthiness and righteous
ness' sake of Jesus Christ, our great and glorious re
deemer and advocate, who makes intercession for
transgressors. My prayers are daily to God for you
and your brother and sister, yea, and for all my chil
dren and fellow-prisoners.
" I am your afflicted and sorrowful father,
" John Williams.
" Chateauviche, March 22, 1706."
God, who is gloriously free and rich in his grace to
vile sinners, was pleased to bless poor and weak
means for the recovery of my child so taken, and gave
me to see that he did not say to the house of Jacob,
" Seek you me in vain." O that every reader would
in every difficulty make Him their refuge ! He is
an hopeful stay. To alleviate my sorrow, I received
the following letter in answer to mine.

RETURNING TO ZION. 81

"Montreal, May 12, 1706.
" Honored Father : —
I received your letter which was sent by

which good letter I thank you for ; and for the good
counsel which you gave me : I desire to be thankful for
it, and hope it will be for the benefit of my soul. I
may say, as in the Psalms, ' The sorrows of death com
passed me, and the pains of hell gat hold on me : I
found trouble and sorrow ; then called I upon the name
of the Lord : O Lord, I beseech thee, deliver my soul !
Gracious is the Lord and righteous, yea, our (Jod is
merciful.' As for what you ask me about my making
an abjuration ofthe Protestant faith for the Roraish, I
durst not write so plain to you as I would, but hope to
see and discourse with you. I am sorry for the sin I
have committed in changing of religion, for which I
am greatly to blame. You may know that Mr. Meriel,
the schoolmaster, and others, were continually at me
about it ; at last I gave over to it, for which I am very
sorry. As for that letter you had from me, it was a
letter I transcribed for Mr. Meriel : and for what he
saith about Abigail Turbet and Esther Jones, nobody
heard them but he, as I understand. I desire your
prayers to God for me, to deliver me from my sins.
O, remember me in your prayers ! I am your dutiful
son, ready to take your counsel. " Samuel Williams."
This priest, Mr. Meriel, has brought many letters to
him, and bid him write them over and send them, and
60 he has done for many others. By this, as also by

82 THE REDEEMED CAPTIVE
Mrs. Stilson's saying " she does not think that either
of these woraen did change their religion before their
death," and also, " that oftentimes during their sickness,
whilst they had the use of their reason, they protested
against the Romish religion and faith," it is evident that
these women never died Papists, but that it was a wily
stratagem of the priests to advance their religion, for
letters were sent, immediately after their death, to use
this as a persuasive argument to gain others ; but God
in his providence gave farther convictions of their falla
ciousness in this matter.
For the last summer, one Biggilow from Marlbor
ough, a captive at Montreal, was very sick in the hos
pital, and in the judgment of all with a sickness to
death. Then the priests and others gave out that he
was turned to be of their religion, and taken into their
communion. But, contrary to their expectation, he
was brought back frora the gates of death, and would
comply with none of their rites ; saying, that, whilst he
had the use of his reason, he never spake any thing in
favor of their religion ; and that he never disowned the
Protestant faith, nor would he now. So that they
were silenced and put to shame. There is no reason
to think that these two women were any more Papists
than he : but they are dead, and cannot speak. One
of the witnesses spoken of in the before-mentioned let
ters, told me she knew of no such thing, and said Mr.
Meriel told her that he never heard a more fervent and
affectionate prayer than one which Esther Jones made
a litde before her death. I am verily persuaded,
that he calls that prayer to God, so full of affection and
fervor, the " confession made by her of the sins of her

RETURNING TO ZION. 83
whole life." These two women always in their health,
and so in their sickness, opposed all Popish principles,
as all that knew them can testify, so long as they could
be permitted to go and speak to them. One of these
women was taken from the Eastward, and the other,
namely, Esther Jones, from Northampton.
AT QUEBECK.
In the beginning of March, 1706, Mr. Shelden came
again to Canada, with letters from his Excellency our
Governor, at which time I was a few days at Quebeck.
And when I was there, one night about ten o'clock,
there was an earthquake, that made a report like a
cannon, and made the houses to tremble. It was
heard and felt many leagues, all along the island of St.
Lawrence, and other places. When Mr. Shelden came
the second time, the adversaries did what they could to
retard the time of our return, to gain time to seduce
our young ones to Popery. Such were sent away who
were ungainable, and most of the younger sort still
kept. Some still flattered with promises of reward,
and essays were made to get others married among
them. One was debauched, and then in twenty-four
hours of time published, taken into their communion,
and married ; but the poor soul has had time since to
lament her sin and folly, with a bitter cry ; and asks
your prayers, that God of his sovereign grace would
yet bring her out of the horrible pit she has thrown her
self into. Her name was Rachel Storer, of M'ells.
In April, one Zebediah Williams, of Deerfield, died.
He was a very hopeful and pious young man, who

84 THE REDEEMED CAPTIVE
carried himself so in his captivity as to edify several
of the English, and recover one fallen to Popery,
taken the last war ; though sorae were enraged against
him on these accounts, yet even the French where' he
sojourned, and with whom he conversed, would say
he was a good man, — one that was very prayerful to
God, and studious and painful in reading the Holy
Scriptures ; a man of a good understanding, a desir
able conversation. In the beginning of his last sick
ness he made me a visit (before he went to the hos
pital at Quebeck), as he had several times before, to my
great satisfaction, and our mutual consolation and com
fort in our captivity. He lived not above two miles
from rae, at the island of St. Lawrence, about six
weeks or two raonths. After his death the French
told me Zebediah was gone to hell, and damned ; for,
said they, he has appeared since his death to one
Joseph Egerly, an Englishman who was taken in the
last war, in flaming fire, telling him, " He was damned
for refusing to embrace the Eomish religion, when
such pains were used to bring him to the true faith ;
and for being instrumental to draw him away from the
Eomish communion, forsaking the mass ; and was
therefore now come to advertise him of his danger" !
I told them I judged it to be a Popish lie ; saying, I bless
God our rehgion needs no lies to uphold, maintain, and
establish it, as theirs did. But they affirmed it to be
true, telling me how God approved of their religion,
and witnessed miraculously against ours. But I still
told them, I was persuaded his soul was in heaven, and
that their reports were only devised fables to seduce
souls. For several weeks they affirmed it, telling me,

RETURNING TO ZION. 85
that all who came over the river from the island
affirmed it to be a truth. I begged of God to blast
this hellish design of theirs ; so that in the issue it
might be to render their religion more abominable, and
that they might not gain one soul by such a stratagem.
After some weeks had passed in such assertions, there
came one into my landlord's house, affirming it to be a
truth reported of Zebediah ; saying, Joseph Egerly
had been over the river and told one of our neighbors
this story. After a few hours I saw that neighbor, and
asked him whether he had seen Egerly lately. He said,
" Yes." " What news told he you ? " " None,"
said he. Then I told him what was affirmed as a
truth; he answered, Egerly said nothing like this to
him, and he was persuaded that he would have told
him, if there had been any truth in it. About a week
after, came one John Boult from the island of St.
Lawrence, a lad taken from Newfoundland, a very
serious, sober lad, of about seventeen years of age.
He had often before come over with Zebediah to visit
me. At his coming in he much lamented the loss of
Zebediah ; and told me, that for several weeks they
had told him the same story, affirming it to be a truth,
and that Egerly was so awakened by it, ns to go again
to mass every day ; urging him, since God in such a
miraculous way offered such conviction of the truth of
their religion, and the falsehood and danger of ours, to
come over to their religion, or else his damnation
would be dreadfully aggravated. He said, he could
have no rest for them day and night ; but, said he, " I
told them their religion was contrary to the word of
God, and therefore I would not embrace it ; and that

86 THE REDEEMED CAPTIVE
I did not believe what they said." And says he to me,
" One day I was sitting in the house, and Egerly came
in, and I spake to him before the whole family (in the
French tongue, for he could not speak much English),
and asked him of this story. He answered, ' It is a
great falsehood,' saying, ' He never appeared to me,
nor have I ever reported any such thing to any body ' ;
and that he had never been at the mass since. Zebe-
diah's death. At the hearing of which, they were si
lenced and put to shame." We blessed God together,
for discovering their wickedness, and disappointing
them in what they aimed at ; and prayed to God to
deliver us and all the captives frora delusions, and re
cover them who had fallen, and so parted. After
which I took my pen and wrote a letter to one Samuel
Hill, an English captive, taken from Wells, who lived
at Quebeck, and his brother Ebenezer Hill, to make a
discovery of this lying plot, to warn them of their dan
ger, and assure them of the falsehood of this report ;•
but the letter fell into the hands of the priests, and was
never delivered. This Egerly came home with us, so
that they gained nothing but shame by their stratagem.
God often disappoints the crafty devices of wicked
men. In the latter end of summer, they told me they had
news from New England, by one who had been a cap
tive at Boston, who said that the ministers at Boston
had told the French captives, that the Protestant re
ligion was the only true religion ; and that as a con
firmation of it, they would raise a dead person to life
before their eyes, for their conviction ; and that having
persuaded one to feign himself dead, they came and

RETURNING TO ZION. 87
prayed over him, and then coramanded him, in the
name of Christ (whose religion they kept pure), to
arise ; they called and commanded, but he never
arose ; so that instead of raising the dead, they killed
the living, which the bereaved relations discovered. I
told them, it was an old lie and calumny against
Luther and Calvin, new vamped, and that they only
change the persons and place ; but they affirmed it
to be a truth. I told thera I wondered they were so
fond of a faith propagated and then raaintained by
lying words.
We were alraost out of hopes of being returned be
fore winter, the season proving so cold the latter end
of September, and were praying to God to prepare
our hearts with an holy submission to his holy will, to
glorify his holy name in a way of passive obedience, in
the winter. For my own part, I was informed by several
who came from the city, that the Lord Intendant said,
if More returned, and brought word that Battis was in
prison, he would put me in prison, and lay me in irons.
They would not permit rae to go into the city, saying
I always did harm when I came to the city, and if at
any time I was at the city, they would persuade the
Governor to send me back again.
In the beginning of last June, the Superior of the
priests came to the parish where I was, and told me
he saw I wanted my friend. Captain De Beauville, and
that I was ragged ; but, says he, " Your obstinacy
a'fainst our religion discourages us from providing bet
ter clothes." I told him, " It was better going in a
ragged coat, than with a ragged conscience."
In the beginning of last June, went out an army

88 THE REDEEMED CAPTIVE
of five hundred Macquas and Indians, with an intention
to have fallen on some English towns down Connecti
cut Eiver, but lighting on a Scatacook Indian, who
afterwards ran away in the night, they were discour
aged, saying he would alarm the whole country.
About fifty or eighty returned. Thus God restrained
their wrath.
When they were promising themselves another
winter, to draw away the English to Popery, news came
that an English brigantine was coraing, and that the
honorable Capt. Samuel Appleton, Esq. was coming
ambassador, to fetch off the captives, and Capt. John
Bonner with him. I cannot tell you how the clergy
and others labored to stop many of the prisoners. To
some liberty, to some raoney, and yearly pensions
were offered, if they would stay. Some they urged to '
tarry at least till the spring of the year ; telling them,
it was so late in the year, they would be lost by ship
wreck if they went now ; some younger ones they told,
if they went home they would be damned and burnt in
hell for ever, to affright them ; day and night they
were urging them to stay. And I was threatened to be
sent aboard, without a permission to come ashore, if I
should again discourse with any of the English who
were turned to their religion. At Montreal, especially,
all crafty endeavors were used to stay the English.
They told my child, if he would stay, he should have
an honorable pension from the king every year, and
that his master, who was an old man, and the richest
in Canada, would give him a great deal ; telling him, if
he returned, he would be poor, for, said they, " your
father is poor, has lost all his estate, it was all burnt" ;

RETURNING TO ZION. 89
but he could not be prevailed to stay. And others
were also in like manner urged to stay ; but God gra
ciously brake the snare, and brought them out. They
endeavored, in the Fall of the year, to prevail with my
son to go to France, when they saw he would not
corae to their communion any more. One woman be
longing to the Eastern parts, who had by their persua
sions married an English captive taken the last war,
came away with her husband ; which made them say,
they were sorry they ever persuaded her to turn to
their religion, and then to raarry ; for instead of ad
vancing their cause by it, they had weakened it ; for
now they had not only lost her, but another they
thought they had raade sure of Another woman be
longing to the Eastward, who had been flattered to their
religion, to whom a Bible was denied till she promised
to embrace their religion, and then had the promise of
it for a litde time ; opening her Bible whilst in the
church and present at mass, she read the fourth
chapter of Deuteronomy, and received such conviction
whilst reading, that before her first communion she fell
off from them, and could never be prevailed with any
more to be of their religion.
We have reason to bless God, who has wrought de
liverance for so many ; and yet pray to God for a
door of escape, to be opened for the great number yet
behind, not much short of an hundred ; many of which
are children, and of these not a few among the sav
ages, and having forgot the English tongue, will be
lost, and turn savages also in a little time, unless some
thing extraordinary prevent.
The vessel that came for us, in its voyage to Cana-
6

90 THE REDEEMED CAPTIVE
da. Struck on a bar of sands, and there lay in very
great hazard for four tides ; and yet they saw reason
to bless God for striking there ; for had they got over
that bar, they would at midnight, in a storm of snow,
have run upon a terrible ledge of rocks.
We came away from Quebeck, October 25 ; and by
contrary winds, and a great storm, we were retarded,
and then driven back nigh the city, and had a great
deliverance from shipwreck, the vessel striking twice
on a rock in that storm. But through God's goodness,
we all arrived in safety at Boston, November 21 ; the
number of captives, fifty-seven, two of which were my
children. I have yet a daughter of ten years of age,
and many neighbors, whose case bespeaks your com
passion and prayers to God, to gather them, being out
casts ready to perish.
At our arrival at Boston, we found the kindness of
the Lord in a wonderful manner, in opening the hearts
of many to bless God with us and for us ; wonderfully
to give for our supplies in our needy state. We are
under obligation to praise God, for disposing the hearts
of so many to so great charity ; and under great bonds
to pray for a blessing on the heads, hearts, and fami
lies of them, who so liberally and plentifully gave for
our relief. It is certain, that the charity of the whole
country of Canada, though moved with the doctrine of
merit, does not come up to the charity of Boston alone,
where notions of merits are rejected ; but acts of char
ity performed out of a right Christian spirit, from a
spirit of thankfulness to God, out of obedience to God's
comhiand, and unfeigned love and charity to them that
are, of the same family and household of faith. The

RETURNING TO ZION. 91
Lord grant that all who devise such liberal things may
find the accomplishment ofthe promises made by God,
in their own persons, and theirs after them, from
generation to generation.
I shall annex a short account of the troubles begin
ning to arise in Canada. On May 16 arrived a canoe
at Quebeck, that brought letters from Mississippi, writ
ten the May preceding ; giving an account that the
plague was there, and that one hundred and fifty
French in a very littie time had died of it ; and that
the savages called the Lezilouways were very turbu
lent, and had with their arrows wounded a Jesuit in five
places, and killed a Frenchman that waited on him.
In July news came that the nations up the river
were engaged in a war one against the other ; and
that the French living so among them, and trading
with them, were in great danger; that the Michel
Macquinas* had made a war with the Mizianmies, and
had killed a mendicant friar, and three other French
men, and eleven savages, at a place called the Straits,
where they are settling a garrison and place for traffic ;
the Michel Macquinas have taken sixteen Frenchmen
prisoners, and burnt their trading-houses. These ti
dings made the French very full of perplexing troubles ;
but the Jesuits are endeavoring to pacify them. But
tho troubles when we came away were rather increas
ing than lessening ; for the last letters from the French
prisoners at Michel Macquina report that the savages
* Michilimackinaws.

92 THE REDEEMED CAPTIVE RETURNING TO ZION.
had sent out two companies, one of an hundred ^and
fifty, the other of an hundred and sixty, against the
savages at the Straits ; and they feared they would en
gage as well against the French as the Indians.

BIOGEAPHICAL MEMOIE

THE REV. JOHN WILLIAMS,

AUTHOR OF "THE REDEEMED CAPTIVE.'

MEMOIR.

The lives of eminent men are identified with the
history of the section of the country in which they have
resided. This is peculiarly the case with the subject
of this memoir. Having spent the greater part of his
days in the town of Deerfield, on the banks of Con
necticut Eiver, at a period when the country was wild
and waste, and exposed to all the horrors of savage
warfare, and having sustained so great a share of the
privations and sufferings of our fathers in planting and
establishing the pleasant country in which we now re
side, under the banners of peace, of comfort, and se
curity, his biography must be interesting to his friends
and the public.
Mr. John Williams was born at Eoxbury, I\Iassachu-
setts, Deceraber 16, 1664. He was son of Deacon
Sarauel Williaras, of the same place, and grandson of
Mr. Eobert Williams, who, according to the best infor
mation I can obtain, came from Norwich, England,
and settied at Roxbury in the year 1638, eighteen
years from the time of the landing ofthe Pilgrims at
Plymouth, and eight years from the settlement of Tri-

96 MEMOIR OF
mountain, Shawmut, or Boston. It appears that at the
time of the first settiement of Boston there was but one
English inhabitant in Eoxbury. Eight years after
this, Mr. Williams- arrived and settled there. We have
no correct account of the cause of his leaving his na
tive land, but it was probably on account of the relig
ious persecutions of the Puritans, which at that tirae
were carried on with fiery and unrelenting zeal ; — so
much so, that our ancestors preferred risking their
lives and property in a savage wilderness, far distant
from their native home, to the more savage persecu
tions of fanatical bigots. The faithful page of history
has informed us of the sufferings of our fathers in
establishing themselves in this howling wilderness, and
how much they hadto contend with from the warfare
of the savages, from famine and disease. It is probable
that Mr. Williams endured his portion of these trials
and hardships. Soon after his arrival at Eoxbury, he
married, and had four children, and frora hira have de
scended all the families of Williamses in this section
of the country.
John, the subject of this notice, early devoted his
attention to study. Through the munificence of his
honored and pious grandfather, on the maternal side.
Deacon William Park, he was educated at Harvard
College, and graduated there in the year 1683, at the
age of nineteen years. He soon after commenced the
study of Divinity. I do not know the period of clerical
pupdage in those days, but it appears that he became
the first minister of Deerfield in the spring of 1686.
The peril of such an undertaking in those days, when
the country had been laid in ruins but a short time be-

REV. JOHN WILLIAMS. 97
fore by the bold incursions of King Philip of Mount
Hope, one of the most enterprising chieftains, accord
ing to his means, of ancient or modern times, was such
as to demand a slight view of the ancient history of the
town of his adoption, and of those scenes of blood and
carnage which our ancestors so largely shared and
suffered, to transmit to us these fertile fields, these
beautiful domains. Although he was not an active
participator in the bloody battles of Lathrop and Tur
ner, yet they occurred in the age in which he lived,
and on the very ground which he afterwards selected
as tlie place of his abode, although surrounded by the
same dangers and difficulties with which his immediate
ancestors had to coptend. It is therefore necessary
that a slight notice of these events should be incorpo
rated with the history of his life.
In the year 1651, the General Court of the Massa
chusetts Bay granted two thousand acres of land to the
Indians for an Indian village at Natick, which was then
a part of Dedham ; and in compensation to Dedham
therefor, they granted to the proprietors of Dedham
eight thousand acres of any land heretofore unappro
priated within the jurisdiction, wherever the proprietors
might choose to locate them.
In 1663 messengers were sent to examine the coun
try. These were John Fairbanks and Lieutenant Daniel
Fisher, who, on their return, gave a most glowing de
scription of the land on the banks of Deerfield Eiver,
which account may be found in Worthtagton's History
of Dedham ; and the town of Dedham appointed six
persons to repair to Deerfield, which was then called
by the Indians Pocomptuck, and to locate the eight

98 MEMOIR OF
thousand acres there. Captain John Pynchon, of
Springfield, was employed by the town to purchase
those lands of the Indians. He soon after performed
that duty, and procured four deeds from the Indians,
which were afterwards deposited in Deacon Aldis's
box at Dedham. Dedham gave ninety-four pounds
ten shillings for these deeds ; which sum was procured
by an assessment on the common rights in the Ded
ham proprietary.
In the spring ofthe year 1671 the first settlement of
Deerfield began, and a few houses were erected on the
main street, on lots drawn by the proprietors, on the
town plat, which was then a forest. The location of
the eight thousand acres, called- the Dedham Grant,
under the administration of Governor Bellingham, be
gan at Pocomptuck Eiver, near Cheapside, and extend
ed north so as to contain all the meadow lands, the
town plat, Bloody-Brook village, and all the flat lands
within the hills to Hatfield line, and a better tract ofthe
same quantity of land could not have been selected,
even by men of the present day. Our ancestors well
knew where to find good lands, or they never would
have perilled life and liberty in an uncultivated and
savage wilderness.
The first inhabitants lived on peaceable terms with
the Indians until the year 1675, at which time King
Philip's war commenced. On the 1st of September of
this year the town was attacked by the Indians, several
houses were burnt, and one man, by the name of
James Eggleston, was killed. On the 12th of the same
month, when going to attend public worship on Sun
day, the inhabitants were attacked, and a man by the

REV. JOHN WILLIABIS. 99
name of Samuel Harrington was severely wounded ;
another was driven into a morass, taken, and killed.
This was indeed a fatal month to the English settiers
in this part of the country. On the 18th, six days after
the last affray, an event occurred which clothed the
country in sackcloth and ashes, — "the blackest day
ever noticed in the annals of New England." I have
reference to the slaughter of Captain Thomas Lathrop,
of Essex County, and ninety of his men, who fell on
this memorable day, surrounded by an army of seven
or eight hundred Indians, probably headed by that
wily commander and sagacious chieftain. King Philip
himself, at a place called Bloody-Brook, in Deerfield,
about five miles from the north village in this town.
The general depot of English troops at Hadley at
this time had increased so much as to make it neces
sary to ransack the country for provisions. A large
quantity of grain, probably wheat, had been harvested
and stacked at Deerfield. Captain Lathrop, and a com
pany of eighty men, besides a number of teamsters
with their teams, were sent by Major Treat from this
place to thrash out the grain and carry it to Hadley.
Captain Moseley and a small body of Colonial troops
were at this time stationed at Deerfield Street in the
garrison. Captain Lathrop and his men thrashed out the
grain, loaded the carts, and commenced their return to
Hadley on the morning ofthe 18th, feeling themselves
in perfect security. Unfortunately he was not so well
versed in modern warfare as to know the necessity of
flank guards, or he was totally unapprehensive of the
danger which threatened him. After they had proceed
ed about four miles and a half through the country.

100 MEMOIR or
which was then covered with woods, and had just
crossed the little stream now called Bloody-Brook, pre
cisely at the spot where the present bridge now crosses
that stream, and exactly at the place where the monu
ment is erected in corameraoration of the event, with
out any warning, they were attacked, probably by
King Philip himself and seven or eight hundred fero
cious Indians, howling for vengeance, brandishing the
deadly tomahawk and murderous scalping-knife. The
troops had crossed the stream, and were waiting for
the teams to come up. More than one account states
that many of the soldiers had stacked or laid down their
guns, and, in conscious security, were regaling them
selves upon the delicious grapes which were found
there in great abundance, growing upon the vines
which were entwined around the trees at that place.
In a moment the guns of the whole body of Indians,
who were lying in wait for their victims, poured de
struction upon their ranks, accompanied by the terrific
yells of the savage war-whoop. Captain Lathrop and
the greater part of his soldiers fell on the first attack.
Those who remained fought with the ferocity of tigers ;
— but of what avail were skill and bravery against
such a disparity of numbers .' Of nearly one hundred
men who entered that field of death on that fatal
morning, in the bloom of health, of youth, of manly
beauty, only seven or eight remained to tell the melan
choly tale. All the rest were inhumanly butchered,
and the clods ofthe valley have rested upon their bo
soms for more than one hundred and sixty years. De
parted spirits, farewell ! we have often mourned your
early exit and dropped the tear of commiseration at

REV. JOHN WILLIAMS. 101
your much-lamented fate. These young men have
always been considered " the flower of the county of
Essex," and descended from the most respectable fam
ilies there. Mr. Hubbard, the historian, or Cotton
Mather, calls this " the saddest day which ever oc
curred in New England."
Captain Moseley, who was stationed at Deerfield
Street, with Lieutenants Pickering and Savage, either
hearing the firing at Bloody-Brook, or being apprised
of the disaster of Captain Lathrop by the soldiers or
teamsters who were so fortunate as to escape from
the massacre, ran immediately to their relief, but was
too late for the rescue. They found the Indians plun
dering the dead of such articles of value as remained
about them. They attacked the Indians with great
fury, and they were as much unprepared for such an
assault as Lathrop was for their attack upon him.
They charged them to and fro across the swamp,
and destroyed them in great numbers. They finally
drove them across a great western swamp, and dis
persed them in a distant forest. In all this skirmish
ing and destruction of the enemy. Captain Moseley
lost only two men, and had six or eight wounded.
Towards the close of the day. Major Treat, who was
on a march from Hadley to Northfield, arrived upon
the field of action with about one hundred men, Eng
lish, and Pequot and Mohegan Indians ; and was of
service to Captain Moseley and his men in helping him
to disperse the enemy. Treat and Moseley retired to
the garrison that night, and in the morning returned to
bury Lathrop and his slain, when they found a party
of Indians plundering the dead.

102 MEMOIR OF
I copy from General Hoyt's Antiquarian Eesearches,
a work of standard merit, (and one which I hope will
soon pass into a new and raore beautiful edition,) the
following singular instance of resuscitation from ap
parent death, which occurred at this time. " One Eob
ert Dutch, of Ipswich, who had. been prostrated by a
ball which contused his head, mauled by hatchets,
stripped, and left for dead, recovered his senses,
arose from the ground covered with blood, and in a
state of nudity walked up to Moseley's men. He was
furnished with clothes, carried to ¦ the English head
quarters, recovered, and lived several years in perfect
health." The Indians lost on that day about ninety-six raen,
who were, probably, most of them killed in the en
gagement with Moseley. About forty years after this
event, during the ministry of Mr. Williams, our fore
fathers erected a rude monument to the memory of
Captain Lathrop and his men ; but the different occu
pants of the soil have reraoved it so many times, that
it has been extremely difficult to ascertain the precise
spot where he or his men were buried. So much laud
able curiosity has been excited, of late, upon the sub
ject, that a meeting of several of the citizens of the
ancient town of Deerfield was held in the summer of
1835, for the purpose of making arrangements for ,
commemorating the hundred and sixtieth anniversary
of the destruction of Captain Lathrop and his men, for
ascertaining, if possible, where their bones lie interred,
and to take measures for the erection of a monument
to their memories. The committee of investigation,
guided by the tradition of some aged people, were so

RET. JOHN WILLIAMS. 103
fortunate as to discover the precise spot where Lathrop
and about thirty of his men were buried, and their
bones were in a tolerable state of preservation, al
though they disintegrated upon exposure to the air.
The grave is just in front of the door-yard of Stephen
Whitney, Esq., and about twenty feet northwest of
his front door.
A grave, probably containing the bones of the nine
ty-six Indians who were slain on that day, was likewise
found, by accident, about the same time, neariy one
hundred rods west of the head ofthe road leading from
Bloody-Brook to Conway, by Mr. Artemas Williams,
and a little more than half a mile southwest of the
grave of Lathrop ; an admirable situation for an Indian
grave. The Hon. Edward Everett was appointed the orator
for the occasion, and General Ep. Iloyt of this town
was requested to prepare the address at the laying of
the corner-stone for the monument. Extensive prep
arations were made for the commemoration of the
event, and on the day of the celebration the high ex
pectations of the public were not disappointed. About
six thousand people listened with enchained attention
and rapturous delight to the lofty and thrilling tones of
oratory proceeding from both the speakers, who did
ample justice to the heroism and valor of our ances
tors. Other scarcely less animating addresses and
sentiments were given at the table, and the festivities
of the occasion were highly exhilarating. A collection
of above two hundred dollars was shortly made for the
monument, and we trust the crying sin of neglect will
no longer rest upon their descendants.

104

MEBIOIR OF

" Sleep, soldiers of merit, sleep, gallants of yore,
The hatchet is fallen, the struggle is o'er ;
While the fir-tree is green, or the wind rolls a wave,
The tear-drop shall brighten the turf of the brave."
Deerfield was soon after this disaster deserted by
the inhabitants, and the Indians reduced the settlement
to ashes.
On the 17th of May, 1676, Captain Turner marched
from Hatfield at the head of about one hundred and
sixty militia-men, to attack a large Indian force sta
tioned at the Great Falls, so called, on Connecticut
Eiver, in that part of Deerfield which is now Gill. The
Indians had a large settlement there, as it was a fa
mous resort for salmon, bass, and shad. They had at
that tirae a force there of several hundred men. Cap
tain Turner was from Boston, and he commanded the
standing forces ; the volunteers were commanded by
Captain Holyoke of Springfield, Ensign Lyman of
Northampton, and Sergeants Kellogg and Dickinson
of Hadley. The Eev. Hope Atherton accompanied
them. Benjamin Wait and Experience Hinsdale were
pilots. I like to be particular, for I think the names of
those who have fought and bled for us should be trans
mitted to posterity.
There was another party of Indians at this time at
Smead's Island, a littie more than a mile below. After
the defeat of Lathrop and the desertion of Deerfield
the Indians considered themselves in little danger of
an attack from the English ; especially as their forces
were not numerous at Hadley and the adjacent towns •
they therefore took little pains to protect themselves.
In addition to this, two boys who had previously been

REV. JOHN WILLIAMS. 105
taken by the Indians on the river below, by the names
of Gillet and Stebbins, escaped from them, and in
formed the English of the situatiqn of their eneraies.
This company, well mounted, and under the imme
diate coramand of Captain Turner, passed directiy
through Deerfield Street, which was a short time before
in smoking ruins, and across the river at Cheapside,
about two miles above, where there was a lodge of
Indians, by whom they were heard as they forded the
river. They got up and examined the crossing-place,
but finding no evidence of horses having passed, they
supposed that the noise proceeded frora moose crossing
the river, and retired to rest. Turner now proceeded
to Greenfield Meadow and passed Green Eiver, and
continued his route through pathless woods for about
four miles, and came to a halt on the west bank of
Fall Eiver, where it empties into the Connecticut, about
half a mile from the Indian camp above the falls.
They here tied their horses, and left them in charge
of a small sentry. It was now near day-break, but the
Indians were asleep, not even guarded by a single sen
tinel. It is said they had been rioting the e\ining
before upon milk and roast-beef, which they had stolen
from the neighboring towns. The English silently
broke in upon their camp, and poured in a charge of
musketry which almost completely deafened them.
In their consternation and alarm they ran towards the
river, crying out, " Mohawks ! Mohawks ! " supposing
themselves attacked by these Indians. Great numbers
jumped into their canoes, and many forgot their pad
dles, and were hurried precipitately over the falls,
dashed to pieces, and drowned, while othere were de-
7

106 MEMOIR OF
stroyed by the English, in the camp, in their cabins,
and in their canoes. Eeport says, that Captain Holy
oke killed five with his own hand ; many others were
equally brave, reraerabering the fate of Lathrop and
his raen. The loss on the part of the English was
only one man. The Indian loss was very severe ; one
hundred were killed on the spot ; one hundred and
forty passed over the falls, and were killed or drowned,
with the exception of one man. A few escaped to
their companions. The Indians acknowledged their
own loss to be three hundred, and among them many
of their principal sachems.
Turner, having defeated and destroyed the principal
part of the Indians at this place, and burned and de
molished the encampment, collected his forces and
returned towards the horses. In the mean time, a
party of Indians from below attacked the guard who
were protecting the horses. Another party of Indians
about the same time were seen crossing the river
above ; they were attacked by about twenty of Tur
ner's men, who volunteered their services, but the In
dians were too strong for them, and they forced them
to retire ; with some difficulty they reached the main
body of Turner's troops, in tirae to assist them in driv
ing back the Indians to the woods, who had attacked
the guard with the horses. Turner now recommenced
his march to Hatfield, Holyoke covering his rear whh
a part of the force. They were soon attacked by a
party of Indians from Smead's Island, and by others
who had united themselves with them from the east
side of the river. They were often repulsed with
great bravery and resolution by Captain Holyoke.

REV. JOHN WILLIAMS. 107
His horse was shot under him, and the Indians at
tempted to seize him. He shot the foremost with one
of his pistols, which deterred the others fix)m the at
tempt, and with the assistance of one of his men, who
ran to his relief, he escaped from them. A captive at
this time informed the English that King Philip was in
the pursuit of them with an army of one thousand
men. This, with the severe fighting in which they
had just been engaged, alarmed them, and they sepa
rated into parties, and arranged themselves under dif
ferent leaders. The eneray were protected and cov
ered by a thick morass, or swamp, extending frora the
foot of the hill at the falls, nearly to Green Eiver on
the west and southwest. One of the parties was cut
off by the Indians at the swamp, and anotiier party,
having got lost, were taken prisoners by them, and
afterwards burnt to deatii in the Indian manner, which
was by covering them with dry bark, setting it on fire,
and then quenching it, and kindling it again, until the
life of the sufferer was at an end. Captain Turner,
who was but just partially recovering from a fit of
sickness, with much toil and e.xertion reached Green
Eiver, which as he was passing, the enemy shot him
from his horse, and he very soon expired. Captain
Holyoke continued his retreat through Green Eiver
Meadows, probably across Potty's Plain in Deerfield,
and Deerfield Meadows, continually harassed by the
Indians, until he reached Hatfield, with the loss of
tliirty-eight men.
As the detail of individual suffering and personal
bravery is always listened to with deep interest and
attention, I subjoin the following narration, the sub-

108 MEMOIR OF
Stance of which may be found in an attested copy of
an account of the sufferings and hardships endured by
Mr. Jonathan Wells of Hatfield, in this expedition, a
youth then in the seventeenth year of his age, but who
became afterwards much, esteemed in public life, and
who lived to a good old age, honored and beloved by
his fellow-townsmen.
Mr. Wells belonged to one of the parties who were
under the necessity of contending with the Indians for
the possession and recovery of their horses. He was
fired upon by three Indians, after he had mounted his
horse, and severely wounded ; one of tbe balls whizzed
through his hair, another wounded his horse, and a
third struck his thigh at a place where it had formerly
been- fractured by a cart-wheel passing over it. The
ball did not entirely break the bone over anew, but
merely fractured the end of one of the bones which
projected over the other, it having been unskilfully
managed at the time it was first set, or reduced. It
was with great difficulty,, after receiving this wound,
that he could retain his seat in the saddle. The In
dians, seeing he was wounded, pursued him with great
spirit. As soon as he began to recover a little from
the shock of the wound, he saw the Indians pressing
hard upon him, and, immediately presenting his gun
towards them, he held them at bay, and when they
again charged upon him, he had the good fortune to
escape from them, and to reach his companions. He
begged of Captain Turner to go back to the relief of
his friends in the rear, as they were exposed to immi
nent danger from the Indians, or to tarry till they might
overtake them. But Turner, probably thinking that

REV. JOHN WILLIAMS. 109
self-preservation was the first law of nature, and being
himself, with his littie band, most critically situated,
replied, " It is better to lose .some than all." The
army now separated into Uttle squads, one leader cry
ing, " If you will save your lives, follow me " ; and
another, " If you regard your safety, follow me." Mr.
Wells followed a party whose course was towards a
swamp, but perceiving that a body of the enemy was
in that direction, he shifted his course, and fell in with
another party, whose route was in a different direction.
It was fortunate for him that he did so, for the party
which he first joined were all killed by the Indians.
His horse soon failed him, on account of the wound
which he had received, and he himself was much de
bilitated from loss of blood, and was not able to keep
up with this party, but was left by them, with only one
companion, a man by the name of Jones, who was
also wounded. The country through which they had
to pass was a pathless forest, and they had no guide
to direct their course. Mr. Wells was very soon sep
arated from his companion, who, on account of his
wounds, was not able to go on with him. At this time
he was very faint, and happening to have a nutraeg in
his pocket, he ate it, and revived. He wandered about
the woods for a considerable time, and by accident
arrived upon the banks of Green Eiver, which he fol
lowed up to a place called the Countiy Farms. After
having passed the river, in attempting to rise a moun
tain on the west side of it, he became faint, and fell
from his horse. He lay in this situation for a consid
erable time, but when he came to his senses, his horse
was still standing beside him, and the bridle-reins were

110 MEMOIR OF
on his hands. He got up and tied his horse to a tree,
and again lay down. Upon more mature reflection,
finding hiraself so extremely debilitated, he thought he
should have no further use for his horse ; he humanely
let him loose to seek a living for himself in the forest.
He unfortunately did not think to take provisions from
his portmanteau, which at that time contained an abun
dance. In the evening he built a fire to keep off the
mosquitos, which were very troublesome to him.
This came very near destroying him, for the flames
spread with so much rapidity among the leaves and
underbrush, that, in his faint and exhausted situation,
he had great difficulty in escaping from them. He
no sooner considered himself out of danger on this
account, than he again laid himself down to rest. But
new anticipations alarmed him. He feared the Indians
would perceive his fire and direct their course towards
him, and either kill or captivate him. He had a quan
tity of ammunition with him, which he was determined
should not fall into their hands. After reserving a
round or two for his own use, in case of an emergen
cy, he cast the rest of it from him, to a great distance.
After having waited a considerable time, and perceiv
ing that the flames had extended themselves over a
considerable territory, he began to be encouraged, and
filled his wounds with tow, for lint, bound them up
with his pocket-handkerchief, and laid down to sleep.
During his slumbers he drearaed that his grandfather
appeared to him, and informed him that he had strayed
out of the right course to Hatfield, and that he must
direct his course down the river, and pursue that direc
tion till he came to the termination of a mountain,

' REV. JOHN WILLIAMS. Ill
where there was an extensive plain, on which he must
continue his travels until he arrived home. It is very
singular that he did not at first go down the river, in
stead of following it up, as he must have known, if he
had reflected a moment, that this was the right direc
tion to Deerfield Street and Hatfield. Upon awaking
he felt himself stronger, his wounds had ceased bleed
ing, and, making use of his gun as a staff, he was able
slowly to walk. When he perceived the rising sun
the next morning, he was satisfied that he had wan
dered from his course, and upon observation he con
cluded that he was now farther from home than he
was when at the falls, the place of action. His first
thought was to pay no attention to his dream, but, after
taking all these things into considere^tion, he concluded
to be governed by it. There was nothing supernatural
in this dream. His sleep was probably disturbed, but
not so much so that he could not reflect that this must
be the natural course for him to pursue. He therefore
travelled down the river, and came to the end of the
mountain, and soon arrived upon the plain, where he
immediately found a foot-path which conducted him to
the road where his companions had previously re
turned. Upon his arrival at Deerfield Eiver, he strug
gled with great difficulty in passing it, the stream being
so powerful as to throw his lame leg over the other,
and prevent his wading it. Several of his first efforts
were entirely unavailing. However, still using his gun
as a staff, he at length succeeded in reaching the oppo
site shore. Upon rising the bank, being much ex
hausted, he lay down under a walnut sapling, and fell
asleep. On awaking, he perceived an Indian in a ca-

112 MEMOIR OF
noe, coming directly towards him. He felt himself in
a forlorn and perilous situation. He was larae, and
not able to escape by running, and his gun was so
filled with sand and dirt, that he could not discharge it.
As soon as the Indian saw hira, Mr. Wells pointed his
gun at him, which frightened him so much that he
jumped out of his canoe and left his gun behind, and
escaped down the river. Mr. Wells, now concluding
that he would alarm the whole tribe, who were but a
short distance frora hira, went into an adjacent swamp,
where he found two logs lying near together, covered
with rubbish. He crept between them, and covered
himself as well as he could with this rubbish. He
very soon heard the tread of the Indians, but dared not
look out from his hiding-place. When the noise had
ceased, and he supposed they were gone, he ventured
out from his covert, and proceeded on his journey.
He found some horses' bones in Deerfield Meadows,
and he was so very hungry that he ate sorae flesh
which the ycrows had left upon them ; he also found
' some rotten beans where the Indians had been thrash
ing, which he ate. These, with the exception of two
blue-bird's eggs, which he found on the way, were the
only provisions he tasted till he arrived at Hatfield.
On Saturday night, a littie after sundown, he arrived
at the town plat in Deerfield Street, but as he found no
inhabitants there, the town having been burnt a short
time before, he proceeded on his journey in the even
ing. His sufferings were now so great, that he often laid
himself down to die, under an expectation that he
should never rise again. On the morning of the Sab-

RET. JOHN WILLIAMS. 113
bath he had not advanced any farther than Muddy-
Brook, about five miles from the town plat. Here he
discovered a huraan head, probably of one of Lathrop's
soldiers, who was killed there the autumn before, which
had been dug up by beasts of prey. Notwithstanding
his distressed situation, he sought for and found the
grave, and laid the head with the body, and covered it
with billets of wood in the best manner he was able,
to protect it from wild beasts. Upon leaving the brook,
and entering upon the plain, he became very faint and
thirsty, but could get no water for some time. He,
however, was frequently refreshed by holding his face
in the smoke of burning pine-knots, which he often
found, as the woods had been on fire. This was a
frequent custom of the inhabitants in those days, to
enable them to pursue their game with greater facility,
and to give more free access to their cattle in feeding.
Ho arrived home at noon on the Sabbath, and was
received with great joy by his friends, who believed
him to be dead. He suffered extremely from his
wounds, and many times afterwards was confined to
his bed for six months at a time. It was more than
four years before he entirely recovered.
The following is an extract of a sermon delivered by
the Eev. Mr. Atherton, pastor of the church at Hat
field. Mr. Atherton was in this action, and the sermon
was delivered on the Sabbath after his return : — "In
the hurry and confusion of the retreat, I was separated
from the army. The night following I wandered up
and down among the dwelling-places of tiie enemy,
but none of them discovered rae. The next day I ten
dered myself to them a prisoner, for no way of escape

114 MEMOIR OF
appeared, and I had been a long time without food ; but
notwithstanding I offered myself to them, yet they ac
cepted not my offer; when I spoke, they answered not ;
and when I moved towards them, they fled. Finding
they would not accept of me as a prisoner, I deter
mined to take the course of the river, and, if possible,
find the way home ; and after several days of hunger,
fatigue, and danger, I reached Hatfield."
The Indians were very superstitious with regard to
priests or ministers of the Gospel, believing them to be
supernatural beings. This may account for their con
duct to Mr. Atherton at this time.
The governraent of Massachusetts, in compensation
for the services of Captains Turner and Holyoke and
their men in this engagement, granted them and their
successors the township called Bernardston, then Fall-
town.* The following year, 1677, an attempt was made to
resettie the town. Very soon after, however, a num
ber of the people were slain, and the town was desert
ed. A man by the name of John Eoot was killed on
the 19th of September of this year, and three others, by
the names of Sergeant Plympton, Quintin Stockwell,
and Benoni Stebbins, were taken prisoners. Stebbins
escaped and returned to Deerfield, Plympton was burnt
at the stake, and it is said that the Indians compelled a
Mr. Dickinson to lead him to it, and that he went to it
with cheerfulness. In the year 1682 the settlers re
turned, and for several years were unmolested by the
Indians. This year the town of Deerfield was incor
porated. * See Appendix and Notes.

RET. JOHN WILLIAMS. 115
At the time of the additional grant of the Legi-slature
to the eight thousand acres, in the year 1673, so as to
constitute Pocomptuck a township of an area of seven
square miles, one of the conditions of the grant was,
that the inhabitants should settle an orthodox minister
within three years. The settiements on Connecticut
Eiver were at that time, and for a long time afterwards,
in a state of continual jeopardy from savage warfare
and Indian incursions. The great battles of Lathrop
and Turner had paralyzed the enterprise of the pio
neers of the wilderness, and it was a long time before
they recovered their energies. It was not till the year
1682 that any great efforts were made at re-settlement.
A few inhabitants returned that year, and for several
succeeding years they were not rauch molested by the
Indians. On account of these disturbances, the town
did not comply with the conditions of the grant, yet no
exceptions were taken by the government. On the con
trary, additional grants were afterwards made to the
limits of the town.
In March, 1686, Mr. Williams was ordained the first
minister of the Gospel in Deerfield, when he was but
littie more than twenty-one years of age. He must
have been shielded by the whole armor of the Christian
warfare, to have risked his life in so hazardous an un
dertaking. The following is the agreement between
him and his people, copied from the early records of
the town.
" The inhabitants of Deerfield, to encourage Mr.
John Williams to settie amongst them, to dispense the
blessed word of truth unto them, have made proposi
tions to him as followeth : —

116 MEMOIR OF
" That they will give him sixteen cow-commons of
meadow land, with a home-lot that lieth on the meet
ing-house hill ; — that they will build him a house forty-
two feet long, twenty feet wide, with a lento on the
back side of the house, to finish said house, to fence
his horae-lot, and, within two years after this agree
ment, to build him a barn, and break up his ploughing
land. For yearly salary, to give him sixty pounds a
year for the present, and four or five years after
this agreement, to add to his salary, and make it eighty
pounds. " The comraittee approved and ratified the above
propositions on the condition Mr. Williams settle
araong them.
" Attest, Medad PtJMRY, by order of the committee."
" At a meeting of the inhabitants of Deerfield, De
cember 17, 1686, there was granted to Mr. John Wil
liams a certain piece of land lying within the meadow
fence, beginning at Joseph Sheldon's north line, and so
runs to Deerfield Eiver, north, or northeast, the own
ers of the coraraon fence maintaining it as it now is
at the time ofthe grant."
There was a further agreeraent between Mr. Wil
liams and the town in relation to his salary, in
1696-7: —
" The town to pay their salary to me in wheat,
pease, Indian corn, and pork, at the prices stated ; viz.
wheat at 3s. 3d. per bushel, Indian corn at 2s. per
bushel, fatted pork at 2^d. per lb., these being the
terms of the bargain made with me at the first.
(Signed,) " John Williams."

RET. JOHN WILLIAMS. 117
About seven years after his settiement, on the 6th of
June, 1693, Indian depredations again commenced at
Deerfield, and the widow Hepzibah Wells, of his so
ciety, and three of her daughters, were knocked down
and scalped, one of whom recovered from the terrific
maiming. Thoraas Broughton and his wife and three
children were also kdled at the sarae time. A few
months afterwards, a man by the name of Martin
Smith was taken prisoner and carried to Canada, but
he returned in a few years.
The fort at Deerfield was again attacked on the 16th
of September, 1694, by Monsieur Castreen, and an
Indian force under his command. The attack was un
successful, but a boy by the name of Daniel Severance
was killed in the meadows, and two soldiers by the
names of Beaumont and Eichard Lyman were wound
ed in the fort. A schoolmistress by the name of Mrs.
Hannah Beaumont and her scholars were almost mi
raculously preserved ; being fired upon by the Indians
as they ran from the house to the fort, the bullets w his-
tled about their ears, but not one of them was in the
least injured, although the Indians were very near
them. As Mr. Joseph Barnard and a party of our men were
on their return from Hatfield on the 18th of August,
1695, they were attacked by a party of Indians who
had concealed themselves beneath a bridge in tiie south
meadows about two railes south of the street, on the
road leading to the Bars. Barnard himself w as badly
wounded in his body and in both hands ; his horse was
shot under him, and fell dead. Through the instni.
mentality and courage of Godfiy Nims, he was rescued

118 MEMOIR OF
from the enemy and brought to the fort at Deerfield,
where he lived to the .6th of September, when he died,
greatiy lamented. The oldest monument which we
can now find in our old burying-ground is erected to
his memory, bearing date 1695. The bridge is still in
the same situation, across the brook where Mr. Barnard
fell, as it was then, and it is called Indian Bridge.
On the 16th of September, 1696, as two men, by
the naraes of Thoraas Smead and John Gillet, were out
from the fort hunting, up Green Eiver, towards the
north part of the present town of Greenfield, they were
attacked, and Gillet was captured by the Indians.
Smead was so fortunate as to make his escape.
The Indians now made a rapid advance to the fort at
Deerfield village, and took Mr. Daniel Belding and a
son and daughter (Nathaniel and Esther). They also
killed his wife and three children, and wounded two
other chddren. They both recovered, although the son
had his skull fractured by an Indian tomahawk, and a
portion of brain issued from the wound.
In July, 1698, a man hj the name of Nathaniel
Pomroy was killed by the enemy, as he was out in pur
suit of some Indians up the river, who had been com
mitting depredations at Hatfield. General Hoyt, in his
Antiquarian Eesearches, gives this account of the
transaction: — "About the middle of July, a short
time before sunset, a small party of Indians killed a
man and boy in Hatfield Meadows, on the banks of
Connecticut Eiver, and captured two lads, Samuel
Dickinson, and one Charley ; they put them on board
of canoes and proceeded up the river. The intelli
gence being received at Deerfield, thirteen miles above.

EET. JOHN WILLIAMS. 119
twelve men were detached to that place to incercept
the Indians. Proceeding about twenty miles, they se
lected a favorable spot on the right bank of the river,
and lay till morning, when they discovered the Indians
coming up near the opposite bank with the captured
lads, in two canoes. Carefully marking their objects,
the whole party gave the Indians an unexpected fire,
by which one was wounded. The others, with one of
the lads, leaped from the canoes and gained the shore.
They then attempted to kill the lads, but receiving an
other well-directed fire, they fell back ; on which the
lad on the shore joined his companion in the canoe, and
both escaped across the river to their deliverers. Five
or six of the party then embarked with the design of
seizing the other canoe, which at this time had lodged
at an island a littie below. Two Indians who lay se
creted not far distant fired and killed Nathaniel Pom
roy, one of the party. The Indians then retired into
the woods, and the English returned to Deerfield. The
place where this exploit happened is a short distance
above tho mouth of Ashuelot Eiver, where the Con
necticut makes a remarkable flexure at the present
town of Vernon, in Vermont."
In the year 1699 the town ordered the pickets round
the old fort to be repaired. Heavy penalties were an
nexed for the non-fulfilment of these ordei-s. The
pickets were probably commenced by our people in
King Philip's war, which began about the year 1689.
At the time the orders of the town were issued, they
were considerably out of repair. At a time of savage
warfare and Indian incursions, these precautions were
absolutely necessary. These pickets included about

120

MEMOIR OF

twenty acres, and the old house was inclosed near the
northwest angle of them. Many dwelling-houses were
at the same time rudely fortified, by being surrounded
with cleft or round sticks of timber placed erect in the
ground, and the walls were lined with bricks, which
were considered to be musket-proof, — a very insecure
mode of protection, even against savages.
On the Sth of October, 1703, two prisoners were
taken from Deerfield, in the meadows, near Brough-
ton's Pond, at or near the north end of the street, by
the names of Zebediah Williaras and John Nims, and
carried to Canada. Nims escaped with some other
prisoners, and after much fatigue and danger returned
to Deerfield. Williams died in Canada.
Let us now pause for a moraent, and contrast our
situation at the present day with that of our unhappy
ancestors, who have toiled and bled to transmit to us
this rich inheritance, these beautiful domains. We are
now in peace and security, enjoying the blessings of
rational liberty, and surrounded by all which can make
life desirable. The country is densely inhabited ; our
roads are good, and intelligence can be conveyed to
the remotest quarters in a short space of time. We
are in no danger of invasion from a foreign or a do
mestic foe. We need no muskeft to protect us whde
at labor in our fields, no guards to defend us during
the silent watches of the night. The blood of our sons
no longer fattens our cornfields ; no savage war-whoop
awakens the sleep of our cradles. Our firesides are
our altars, and we can enjoy them unmolested. How
different was the case with our forefathers I The
country was new ; it was infested with savages thirst-

KET. JOHN WILLIAMS. 121
ing for blood. Their population was thin, confined
to a few villages, and the inhabitants of these had as
much as they could do to defend themselves from
Indian barbarities. Few roads but bridle and foot
paths, and all attempts to convey information, and all
calls for succor, tedious and slow, at the imminent haz
ard of an ambuscade or life. Self-preservation was the
first and only law. It was unsafe to go into a neigh
bor's house without a musket, much more into the field.
Their houses were within the rude walls of a picket
ed fort, and almost the only communication between
them was by means of passages under ground from
cellar to cellar. Sentinels always guarded their houses
by night. It was a state of continual jeopardy, and in
the country of an implacable and vindictive savage
foe. No succors could be received from government ;
every thing depended upon individual exertion. Such
was the situation of our fathers in this town on -the
eventful morning of the 29th of February, old style,
1704. The names of several of the captives who were
taken from Deerfield, and who were left in Canada
after Mr. Williams's return, have been found among
the Indians near Montreal. There were several inter
marriages, and their names have not become extinct
in that vicinity. As lately as the year 1756, Mary
Harris, who was one of the female prisoners, and a
child at the time of the capture of the town, resided at
Cahnawaga. She was at that time a married woman,
and had several children, one of whom was an officer
in the service of France. A gentleman from Montreal
said that he saw, at the Lake of the Two Mountains, a
8

122 MEMOIR OF
French girl, who told him that her grandmother was
Thankful Stebbins, who was taken from Deerfield in
1704. General Hoyt has procured the names of the
principal part of the prisoners who were taken at Deer
field, and who were left in Canada after the return of
Mr. Williams. They are as follows : —
William Brooks, Mary Brooks, Daniel Crowfoot,
Samuel Carter, John Carter, Mary Carter, Elizabeth
Corse, Abigail Denio, Mary Field, Freedom French,
Abigail French, Mary Harris, Samuel Hastings, Eb
enezer Hoit, Thomas Hurst, Joanna Kellog, Abigail
Nims, Jeremiah Eichards, Josiah Eising, Ebenezer
Stebbins, Thankful Stebbins, Joseph Stebbins, Eliza
beth Stevens, Waitstill Warner, Eunice Williams.
Many of the prisoners became very much attached
to the Indians and their mode of life, and some of
them were very loath to leave them after they were re
deemed. A lad, by the name of Jonathan Hoit, who
was taken at the time of the destruction of the town, at
the age of sixteen years, was very fond of them. He
resided with them two years and a half, at a place
called Lorette, upon the Eiver St. Charles, not far
from Quebec. He learnt their language so perfectiy,
that he never forgot it to the day of his death, which
was in the ninety-second year of his age. Soon after
his return to Deerfield, his former Indian master came
down to make him a visit, and he was kindly received
by him, and treated with respect. Jonathan was re
deemed by Major Dudley, son of Governor Dudley, of
Massachusetts, in the following manner, as related by
Colonel Elihu Hoyt, one of his descendants, in his
History of the First Settlement of Deerfield, — a small
pamphlet in a duodecimo form.

¦ RET. JOHN WILLIAMS. 123
" The Indians were in the habit of raising and bring
ing to market garden sauce, &c. One day Major
Dudley saw young Hoit in the street ; he said to him,
' Are you not an English boy ? ' He answered, ' Yes.'
' Do you not wish to go horae and see your friends .'' '
' I do,' was the answer. ' Where is your master ? '
said the Major. ' Somewhere in the city,' answered
the boy. ' Bring him to me,' said he. The boy now
tripped over the ground with a light heart, in pursuit
of his master, who soon came. The agent said to the
Indian, 'I will give you this for the boy,' holding out
to him a purse of twenty dollars. The temptation was
too great to be resisted ; the bargain was made, the
money handed over, and the Indian went away well
satisfied. The gentieman immediately sent the boy
on board a ship then lying in the -river for the recep
tion of the ransomed prisoners. The agent was aware
that, when the Indian had leisure to reflect, he would
return and make a proposition to give up the money,
and take his boy again. He was not mistaken in his
conjecture ; he soon carae back, and desired to give up
the money for the boy ; but was told he could not have
him, for he was out of his reach. The Indian went
away lamenting that he had parted with his favorite
captive boy for a few dumb dollars, that would neither
fish nor hunt. By this means the captive was restored
to his home and his friends."
About the time that Mr. Williams left Canada, new
troubles began to arise in that Province. Letters were
received from Mississippi, written in the preceding
May, stating that the plague was prevailing there, and
that one hundred and fifty Frenchmen had died within

124 MEMOIR OF
a very short space of time, and that the tribe of Indians
there called the Lazilouways were very boisterous, and
had wounded a Jesuit severely, and had killed his ser
vant, a Frenchman. Farther information reached
them in July, that the Indians upon the river were en
gaged in war with each other, and the French who
resided amongst them were in great danger; that the
Mitchel Macquinas had commenced war against the
Miziamnies, and killed a friar, three Frenchmen, and
eleven Indians, at a place called the Straits, where they
were erecting a fort for the purpose of traffic ; they
had also taken sixteen Frenchmen prisoners, and burned
their trading-houses. These things greatly perplexed
the French in Canada ; the Jesuits strove hard to paci
fy them, but their troubles rather increased than sub
sided when they left Canada ; for the last letters from
the French prisoners in those regions state that the
Indians had sent out two companies, one of one hun
dred and sixty, and one of one hundred and fifty-nine,
against the savages at the Straits, and they were fear
ful that they would attack the French as well as the
Indians. Mr. Williams did not immediately return to Deer
field after his emancipation from the French and In
dians. He probably had some doubts whether he
should again settie in the ministry in Deerfield. On
the 30th of November, 1706, nine or ten days after his
arrival at Boston, the town chose commissioners, viz.
" Captain Thomas French and Captain Jonathan Wells,
to go down to the bay for them, and in their behalf to
act and treat with their pastor, the Eev. John Williams,
in order to his re-settlement with them again in the

RET. JOHN WILLIAMS. 125
work of the ministry, as also to take advice and coun
sel of the elders in our county for the management of
the work, as also to put up a petition to the General
Court, or Council, for a grant of money for the en
couragement of the Eev. Mr. John Williams in his re
settlement in said work with them, and in all these
particulars to act and do according to the best of their
discretion." Mr. Williams, after serious consideration,
accepted the call, although the war still continued with
unabated fury, and the inhabitants were kept in a con
tinual state of alarm.
On the 9th of Januaiy, 1707, the town agreed to
build a house for him, "as big as Ensign Sheldon's,
and a back room as big as may be thought conven
ient." Ensign Sheldon's house was the old picketed
fort,* which was recentiy torn down. On tho 3d of
April the town voted, " that they would pay unto Mr.
John Williams 20 pounds in money, and every male
head of 16 years and upwards, one day's work a
piece ; those that have teams, a day with their teams
for the year." They also voted " to pay Thomas
Wells for boarding Mr. Choate the last half-year he
preached in Deerfield." On the 17th of November
they voted " to send a petition to the General Court
for a grant of money towards the maintenance of the
Eev. John Williams in the work of the ministry in
Deerfield." They also gave him and his heirs for
ever a large tract of land adjoining his house, and in
the meadows.
Indian depredations continued for many yeare after
* See engraving.

126 MEMOIR OF
the re-settiement of Mr. Williams. Soon after the de
struction ofthe town at the time he was captivated, the
inhabitants rebuilt it. In May, 1704, Mr. John Allen
and his wife were killed at a place called the Barrs,
and in the summer of the same year, Sergeant John
Hawks was attacked by the Indians, but escaped to
Hatfield with a slight wound upon his hand ; and in
July a man by the name of Thomas Eussell was killed
by them at the north part of the town.
August, 1708. As a scout from Deerfield were re
turning from White Eiver, in Vermont, they were at
tacked by the Indians, and a man by the name of
Barber was killed, he having killed the Indian who
fired upon him, so near together did they discharge
their guns. Martin Kellogg was captivated ; the rest
were so fortunate as to escape. On the 26th of Octo
ber of this year, Mr. Ebenezer Field was killed by the
Indians near Bloody-Brook.
In the month of April, 1709, Mehuman Hinsdale, a
son of one of the first settiers of Deerfield, and the first
male child ever born there, was taken prisoner by the
Indians, as he was driving his team between Hatfield
and Northampton, and carried by them to Canada.
From thence he was carried to France, and from
France to England, and brought from the latter place
to Deerfield.* The succeeding month of the same
year. Lieutenant John Wells and John Burt, inhabitants
of Deerfield, were killed in a skirmish with the Indians
on French or Onion Eiver, in Vermont. They, with
others, had been out on an expedition against the en-
* See Appendix and Notes.

RET. JOHN WILLIAMS. 127
emy, as far as Lake Champlain, where they had killed
several of them.
It seems that the Indians and their commanders were
not yet satisfied with their hostilities upon this land,
abounding with milk and honey, for another attempt
was made to sack or destroy the town in the month of
June, 1709, by Eouville, one ofthe brothers who made
the successful attack upon the town in 1704. His
force consisted of one hundred and eighty French and
Indians ; but vigorous efforts were now made by the
inhabitants for the defence, many of whom had re
centiy returned from Canada, and their late disasters
had taught them military prudence, and inspired them
with courage in opposing the savage foes. The en
eray, from these preparations, thought it most prudent
to withdraw their troops and abandon the attack. They
did not quit the place until they had taken Joseph Clcs-
son and John Arms prisoners. Jonathan Williams and
Matthew Clesson were killed at the time, and Lieuten
ant Mattoon and Isaac Taylor were wounded, but both
of them fortunately survived. I am inclined to think
that this Joseph Clesison was the one who was so cruel
ly treated by the Indians in Canada in one of their
sports, which was to cause him to run the gantiet.
The account of the transaction is as follows : — The
Indians arranged themselves in two rows facing each
other, armed with clubs. They then pinioned the hands
of the captive, and forced him to run through the ranks,
while every Indian gave him a severe blow with his
club. Mr. Clesson was severely mangled by them in
this way, while in Canada and under the protection of
the French. His lower jaw was broken, and he w£is

128 MEMOIR OF
Otherwise most cruelly bruised. He was ever after
wards extremely indignant against them for this out
rage, and the bare mention of an Indian would rouse a
resentment in his breast as furious as a lion in its rage.
Mr. Williams about this time was earnestiy solicited
to accept the office of chaplain in the army in the ex
pedition against Canada under General Hill and Ad
miral Walker. He had been previously requested to
accept the same in the expedition against Port Eoyal,
under the command of Colonel March, with seven hun
dred men, in the year 1707. Soon after, he was ap
pointed a commissioner in the winter expedition to
Canada, under the command of Colonel Stoddard, for
the purpose of redeeming prisoners. They were suc
cessful in redeeming many of their fellow-citizens, but
could not obtain the daughter of Mr. Williams.
Mr. Williams's salary was for some time probably
too small to support him, and the General Court al
lowed him two islands in Connecticut Eiver, opposite
to the town of Deerfield, now called Smead's and
Corse's islands, containing between thirty and forty
acres, in consequence of his petitioning on behalf of
the town for an extension of its territories. This peti
tion was granted, and the line then extended west from
Connecticut Eiver nine miles, as far as the western
boundaries of Northampton and Flatfield. The town
was then about fourteen miles in length and nine in
breadth, and occupied the towns now embracing
Greenfield, Conway, Shelburne, Gill, and a part of
Whately. On the 30th of September, 1712, a scout was sent
from Deerfield, under the command of Samuel Taylor,

EET. JOHN WILLIAMS. 129
to the Hudson or North Eiver, as it was then called, in
the State of New York. They were attacked by the
Indians on this day, and a man by the name of Samuel
Andros was killed ; Jonathan Barret was wounded, and
he and William Stanford were taken prisoners, carried
to Canada, and redeemed by Lieutenant Samuel Wil
liams, who was there with a flag of truce, and they re
turned to Deerfield after an absence of two months.
From the year 1712 to 1720, the people of Deerfield
were not much molested by the Indians.
To show the continued attachment of the people of
Deerfield to Mr. Williams, the town voted to provide
him his wood at its own expense, in addition to his sal
ary, and to procure him the value of sixty ordinary
loads in the year 1724 - 5.
In the latter part of June, 1724, as a scout were re
turning from the north part of Greenfield, near Eocky
Mountain, to the fort at Deerfield, they were attacked
by the Indians, and Ebenezer Sheldon, Thomas Col-
ton, and Jeremiah English, a friendly Indian, were
killed. The Indians were dispersed by the rear of the
scout coming upon them suddenly. In the same year
two men, by the names of Lieutenant Timothy Childs
and Samuel Allen, who had been at work in the North
Meadows, were attacked by a party of Indians who lay
concealed in the woods at Pine Hill. They were both
wounded, but fortunately recovered.
On the 25th of August, 1725, as Deacon Field, Dea
con Childs, and several others from Deerfield, were
passing up the road near Green Eiver Farms, they
were ambuscaded by the Indians, whom the parly had
previously discovered, as they were posted on an emi-

130 MEMOIR OF
nence. An Indian was killed by John Wells. The
party afterwards returned towards a mill, but one of
them. Deacon Field, was severely wounded, the ball
passing through the lower part of the right side of the
abdomen, cutting off several folds of the mesentery,
which protruded through the wound to the extent of
two inches, and was cut off even with the body. The
ball then passed between the two lowest ribs, fractur
ing the last one. It likewise took off one of his thumbs
at the root, and the bone of the forefinger, and lodged
in the hand between the fore and second finger. The
ball was extracted, and a perfect cure of all his wounds
was effected, by Dr. Thomas Hastings, in less than
three weeks.
Mr. Williams for many years devoted much of his
time and attention to the pursuits of science and litera
ture, added to the cares and obligations attendant upon
his professional duties as a faithful minister of the
Gospel. For the times in which he lived, he was a
writer of no mean abilities. He has not left behind
him many of his published productions. I recollect
only to have seen his " Eedeemed Captive returning to
Zion," in which he gives an account of his captivity
and sufferings, and a Sermon preached at Boston, De
cember 6, 1706, soon after his return from Canada.
These works evince talent and great piety. The age
in which he lived was not one of publications like the
present, or doubtless raore of his works would have
been published. He was a very constant attendant
upon the annual convention of ministers in the then
Province at Boston, when he was always treated with
respect and attention. In 1728 he preached an inter
esting discourse at that convention.

EET. JOHN WILLIAMS. 131
1 have seen some of his manuscript productions,
which are interesting. In some of his writings, under
the head of Philosophy, he treats of Mists and Fogs, —
of Wind, — of Water, or the Doctrine of H^ydrostatics,
— of Matter, — of the Earth, — of Fire, — of Beasts,
Birds, and Fishes, — of Insects, — ofthe Julian Period,
— of the Method of Drawing a Meridian Line upon an
Horizontal Plane, — of Mercury, — of Vulcan, — of
Mars, — of an Echo, &c., &c. These topics show that
he had a philosophical turn of mind, and a greater
taste for the abstruse sciences than is usual to be found
at that period.
The following is his description of a drunkard, which
will give some idea of his style of writing, and will
show that the habit of intoxication is not confined to
the present day : —
"A DRUNKARD DESCRIBED.
" Though wine is so beneficial to this life, that in
vilm vitam liominis Esseidieros, and how many say
that the happiness of one consists in the enjoyment of
the other ; but do not consider that, if wine be the cra
dle of life, yet it is the grave ofthe reason, for if men
do not constantiy sail in the Eed Sea of claret, their
souls are ofttimes drowned therein. It blinds them,
and leaves them under darkness, especially when it be
gins to draw forth sparkles and little stars from their
eyes. Then the body being drowned in drink, the
mind floats, or else is stranded. Thus too great love
of the vine is pernicious to life, for from it come more
faults than grapes, and it breeds more mischief than
pleasures. Would you see an instance of this, observe

132 MEMOIR OF
a drunken man. O beast! — see how his head reels
and totters, his hands sink, his feet fail, his hands
tremble, his mouth froths, his cheeks are flabby, his
eyes sparkle and water, his words are unintelligiHe,
his tongue falters and stops, his throat sends forth a
nasty, loathsome stench ! — But what do I do .'' There
is no end to his filthiness."
Soon after Mr. Williams's return to Deerfield, he
was married, a second time, to the daughter of Captain
Allen of Windsor, Connecticut. She, as well as his
first wife, were granddaughters of the Eev. Mr. War-
ham, formerly pastor of Windsor. By his second wife
he had five children. Eight of his children survived
him, four sons and four daughters. His three eldest
sons, Eleazer, Stephen, and Warham, were settled in
the ministry at Mansfield, Conn., at Springfield, and at
Watertown, Mass. Stephen received the degree of
Doctor of Divinity frora Dartraouth College, but was
educated at Harvard. He lived to a great old age.
His son Elijah, by his second wife, was educated at
Harvard College, and lived at Deerfield, where he was
much respected as an honorable merchant and an able
magistrate. His eldest daughter married Mr. Meacham,
the forraer pastor of Coventry, Conn.
Mr. Williams died at Deerfield on the 12th of June,
1729, in the sixty-fifth year of his age and the forty-
fourth of his ministry. He was attacked with a fit of
apoplexy on the morning of the 9th. It was perceived
upon speaking to him, that he had the exercise of
reason, but he was never able to articulate distinctiy
more than two or three words after he was taken ill.

EET. JOHN WILLIAMS. 133
The writer of his obituary notice, which was pub
lished in the Boston News-Letter, the first newspaper
ever printed in New Englandy^thus speaks of him : —
" God, who first sent him to us, and inclined his
heart to settle with us in our small beginnings, hath
made hin>» great blessing unto us. His heart was en
gaged in his work, and was abundant in his labors,
both in season and out of season, plainly, faithfully,
and frequently warning, urging, and entreating both
elder and younger unto piety and perseverance in it.
He was much in prayer, and singularly gifted in it.
We hope through grace he has left many seals of his
ministry araong us. The Divine Providence which
fixed his post in one of the frontier towns of the Prov
ince, fitted him for it by giving him patience and
cheerfulness of spirit; so that he was wonderfully car
ried through all the difficulties, distractions, and dan
gers that he encountered. And his prayers, counsel,
and example did not a littie contribute to the support
and encouragement of his people from time to time."
And another writer, the Eev. Eodolphus Dickinson,
of this town, in his View of Deerfield, thus beautifully
eulogizes him : —
" The character of Mr. Williams was extensively
known, and held in high estimation ; as may be
learned, aside from other respectful attentions, by his
appointment to preach to a general convention of the
clergymen of Massachusetts at Boston. He is repre
sented by his contemporaries, who have witnessed his
efforts before the most enlightened and powerful audi
tories in the Province, as a powerful and affecting
preacher. He is also commended for his domestic

134 MEMOIR OF RET. JOHN WILLIAMS.
virtues, his eminent piety, humility, sincerity, and
goodness of heart. His voluntary abandonment ofthe
scenes of his beloved nativity, secure from the incur
sions of the savages, to settle in a frontier place, per
petually opposed to their depredations, where personal
safety, so indispensable to other enjoyments, was for
many years a stranger to their habitations, and his re
turn to the work of the ministry, subject to the same
dangers, after the coraplicated afflictions of his captiv
ity, evince his ardent love for the people of his care,
and testify that he was animated with the spirit of a
martyr in the advancement of the Gospel. It is im
possible to peruse his interesting narrative of the de
struction of Deerfield, and the slaughter and captivity
of its inhabitants, in the suffering in which he so large
ly participated, without being inspired with a respect
for his talents and piety, and an admiration of that un
exampled fortitude which could sustain him under pri
vate calamities such as rarely happen to man, and a
view of public desolations, similar, though less extend
ed, to those apostrophized by the mournful son of Hil-
kiah. But a holy resignation to the Supreme Disposer
of events was the balm of every sorrow. His path
was lighted by a hope that looks beyond this, transient
scene. He was redeemed from the flames, passed
through the wilderness and sea of dangers, and, as we
trust, reached a temple eternal in the heavens."

APPENDIX AND NOTES.

APPENDIX AND NOTES.

List of the Soldiers and the Descendants of such as are de
ceased that were in the Fight, called the Fall Fight, above
Deerfield, who are entitled to the Township granted by the
General Court, as follows: —
Joseph Atherton, Deerfield, only son of Hope Atherton.
Nathaniel Allexandor, Northampton, Nathaniel AUexander.
Thomas Alvard, Middleton, eldest son of Thomas Alvard.
John Arms, Deerfield, son of William Arms.
John Baker, Northampton, son of Timothy Baker.
Sanluel Bedortha, Springfield, son of Samuel Bedortha.
John Field, Deerfield, descendant, James Bennet.
John Barbar, Springfield, son of John Barbar.
John Bradshaw, Medford, John Bradshaw.
Isaac Burnap, Windham, son of John Burnap.
Samuel Clesson, Northampton, descendant, Peter Bushrod.
Samuel Boltwood, Hadley, son of Samuel Boltwood.
Samuel Bardwell, Deerfield, son of Robert Bardwell.
John Hitchcock, Springfield, descendant, Samuel Ball.
Stephen Belden, Hatfield, son of Stephen Belden.
Richard Beers, Watertown, son of Elnathan Beers.
Samuel Beklin, Hatfield, Samuel Beldin.
Preserved Clapp, Northampton, son of Preserved Clapp.
Thomas Chapin, Springfield, son of Japhet Chapin.
Samuel Crow, Hadle^, son of Samuel Crow.
Joseph Crowfoot, Wethersfield, descendant, Joseph Crowfoot.
9

138 APPENDIX AND NOTES.
William Clark, Lebanon, son of William Clark.
Noah Cook, Hadley, descendant, Noah Colman.
Benjamin Chamberlain, Colchester, Benjamin Chamberlain.
Nathaniel Chamberlain, descendant, Joseph Chamberlain.
Samuel Cuniball, Boston, son of John Cuniball.
John Chase, Newbury, son of John Chase.
William Ilickeson, Hadley, son of Neheraiah Dickeson.
Samuel Jellet, Hatfield, descendant, John Dickeson.
Benjamin Edwards, Northampton, son of Benjamin Edwards.
Joseph Fuller, Newtown, Joseph Fuller.
Sarauel Field, Deerfield, son of Samuel Field.
Nathaniel Foot, Colchester, son of Nathaniel Foot.
John Flanders, Kingston, son of John Flanders.
Isaac Gleason, Enfield, son of Isaac Gleason.
Richard Church, Hadley, descendant, Isaac Harrison.
Simon Grover, Malden,'son of Simon Grover.
Samuel Griffin, Roxbury, son of Joseph Griffin.
John Hitchcock, Springfield, son of John Hitchcock.
Luke Hitchcock, Springfield, son of Luke Hitchcock.
Jonathan Hoit, Deerfield, son of David Hoit.
Jonathan Scott, Waterbury, descendant, John Hawks.
Eleazer Hawks, Deerfield, son of Eleazer Hawks.
James Harwood, Concord, son of James Harwood.
John Dond, Middleton, descendant, Experience Hiijdal.
Samuel Hunt, Tewksbury, Samuel Hunt.
William James, Lebanon, son of Abel! James.
John Ingram, Hadley, son of John Ingram.
Samuel Jellet, Hatfield, son of Samuel Jellet.
William Jxines, Almsbury, son of Robert Jones.
Medad King, Northampton, son of John King.
Francis Keet, Northampton, son of Francis Keet.
Martin Kellog, Suffield, son of Joseph Kellog.
John Lee, Westfield, son of John Lee.
John Lyman, Northampton, son of John Lyman.
Joseph Leeds, Dorchester, son of Joseph Leeds.
Josiah Leonard, Springfield, son of Josiah Leonard.

APPENDIX AND NOTES. 139
John Merry, Long Island, son of Cornelius Merry.
Stephen Noble, formerly of Enfield, descendant, Isaac Morgan.
Jonathan Morgan, Springfield, son of Jonathan Morgan.
Thomas Miller, Springfield, son of Thomas Miller.
James Mun, Colchester, James Mun.
Benjamin Mun, Deerfield, son of John Mun.
John Mattoon, Wallingford, son of Philip Mattoon.
John Nims, Deerfield, son of Godfrey Nims.
Ebenezer Pumroy, Northampton, son of Medad Pumroy.
Samuel Pumroy, N. H., son of Caleb Pumroy.
Samuel Price, Glastenbury, son of Robert Price.
Samuel Preston, Hadley, descendant, John Preston.
Thomas Pratt, Maiden, son of John Pratt.
John Pressey, Almsbury, son of John Pressey.
Henry Rogers, Springfield, son of Henry Rogers.
John Read, Westford, son of Thomas Read.
Nathaniel Sikea, Springfield, son of Nathaniel .'-'ikes.
Nathaniel SullifT, Durham, son of Nathaniel Sutiiff.
Samuel Stebbins, Springfield, son of Samuel Stebbins.
Luks Noble, Westfield, descendant, Thcimas Stebbins.
Ebenezer Smead, Deerfield, son of William Smead.
Joseph Smith, Hatfield, son of John Smith.
James Stephenson, Springfield, son of James Stephenson.
Thomas Seldon, Haddam, son of Joseph Seldon.
Josiah Scott, Hatfield, son of William Scott.
John Salter, Charlestown, son of John Salter.
William Turner, Swanzey, grandson of Captain Turner.
Benjamin Thomas, Strafford, son of Benjamin Thomas.
Joseph Winchell, jr., Suffield, descendant, Jonathan Taller.
Samuel Tyley, Boston, son of Samuel Tyley.
Preserved Wright, N. H., son of James Wright.
Cornelius Webb, Springfield, son of John Webb.
Jonathan Webb, Stamford, son of Richard Webb.
John Wait, Hatfield, son of Benjamin Wait.
Eleazer Weller, Westfield, son of Eleazer Weller.
Thomas Wells, Deerfield, son of Thomas Wells.

140 APPENDIX AND NOTES.
Ebenezer Warriner, Enfield, son of Joseph Warriner.
Jonathan Wells, Deerfield, Jonathan Wells.
Wm. Worthington,' Colchester, son Nicholas Worthington.
John Scott, Elbows, grandson of John Scott.
Samuel Colby, Almsbury,
Irgal Newberry, Maiden.
The Committee appointed to enlist the Officers
and Soldiers in the Fight, called the Fall Fight,
under the Command of Capt. William Turner,
then slain, and the Descendants of such as are
deceased, and that are entitled to the Grant of
this Great and General Court made them of a
Township, have attended many times that Ser-
A Liat of ye ^i''^ ^""^ returned the List above and aforesaid,
Proprietary, which contains the Person's Names claiming,
and from whom and which the Committee have
accordingly allowed, all which is submitted.
WM. DUDLEY,
EZ. LEWIS,
JOHN STODDARD,
JOSEPH DWIGHT,
JOHN WAINWRIGHT.
Boston, June, 1736.
In Council, June 23d, 1736, Read, and ordered that this
Report be accepted. Sent down for Concurrence :
SIMON FROST, Dept'y Sec'ry.
In the House of Representatives, Jan'y 19, 1736, Read,
and ordered that this Report be accepted. Sent up for Con
currence. J. QUINCY, Spk'r.
In Council, Jan'y 21st, 1736, Read and Concurr'd.
SIMON FROST, Dept'y Sec'ry.
Consented to, J. BELCHER.
A true Copy, Examin'd pr. SIMON FROST, Dept. Sec'ry.

APPENDIX AND NOTES.

141

Names of ihe Captives who were taken at the Destruction of
the Town of Deerfield, FAruary 29th, 1703-4. Drawn up
by the Rev. Stephen Williams, of Springfield, soon after his
Return from Captivity.

Mary Alexander.
Mary Alexander, jr.
Joseph Alexander, (ran away
the first night.)
Sarah Allen.
Mary AUis.
Thomas Baker.
Simon Beaumont.
Hepzibah Belding.*
John Bridgman, (ran away
in the meadow.)
Nathaniel Brooks.
Mary Brooks.*
Mary Brooks, jr.
William Brooks.
Abigail Brown.
Benjamin Burt.
Hannah Carter.*
Hannah Carter, jr.*
Mercy Carter.
Samuel Carter.
John Carter.
Ebenezer Carter.
Marah Carter.*
John Catlin.
Ruth CaUin.
Elizabeth Corse.*

Elizabeth Corse, jr.
Daniel Crowfoot.
Abigail Denio.
Sarah Dickinson.
Joseph Eastman.
Mary Field.
John Field.
Mary Field, jr.
Mary Frary.*
Thomas French.
Mary French.*
Mary French, jr.
Thomas French, jr.
Freedom French.
Martha French.
Abigail French.
Mary Harris.
Samuel Hastings.
Elizabeth Hawks.
Mehuman Hinsdale.
Mary Hinsdale.
Jacob Hicks, (died at Coos.)
Deacon David Hoit, (died at
Coos.)
Abigail Hoit.
Jonathan Hoit.
Sarah Hoit.

* This mark designates those who were slain in the mesidow?
after they lofl the town.

142

APPENDIX AND NOTES.

Ebenezer Hoit.
Abigail Hoit, jr.
Elizabeth Hull.
Thomas Hurst.
Ebenezer Hurst.
Benoni Hurst.*
Sarah Hurst.
Sarah Hurst, jr.
Elizabeth Hurst.
Hannah Hurst.
Martin Kellogg.
Martin Kellogg, jr.
Joseph Kellogg.
Joanna Kellogg.
Rebecca Kellogg.
John Marsh.
Sarah Mattoon.*
Philip Mattoon.
Flank,* (a negro.)
Mehitable Nims.
Ebenezer Nims.
Abigail Nims.
Joseph Petty.
Sarah Petty.
Lydia Pomeroy.
Joshua Pomeroy.
Esther Pomeroy.*
Also three Frenchmen
time, and who came from

Samuel Price.
Jemima Richards.
Josiah Rising.
Hannah Shelden.
Ebenezer Shelden.
Remembrance Shelden.
Mary Shelden.
John Stebbins.
Dorothy Stebbins.
John Stebbins, jr.
Samuel Stebbins.
Ebenezer Stebbins.
Joseph Stebbins.
Thankful Stebbins.
Elizabeth Stevens.
Ebenezer Warner,
Waitstill Warner, jr.*
Sarah Warner.
Rev. John Williams.
Mrs. Eunice Williams.*
Samuel Williams.
Stephen Williams.
Eunice Williams, jr.
Esther Williams.
Warham Williams.
John Weston.
Judah Wright.
who had lived in Deerfield so
Canada.

Names of those who were slain at the Taking of the Tow.

David Alexander.
Thomas Carter.
John Catlin.
Jonathan Catlin.

Sarah Field.
Samson Frary.
John French.
Alice Hawks.

APPENDIX AND NOTES.

143

John Hawks, jr., and his wife.
Thankful Hawks.
John Hawks.
Martha Hawks.
Samuel Hinsdale.
Joseph Ingersol.
Jonathan Kellogg.
Philip Mattoon's wife and
child.
Parthena, (a negro.)
Henry Nims.*
Mary Nims.*
Mehitable ^ims.*

Sarah Price.
Mary Root.
Thomas Shelden.
Mercy Shelden.
Samuel Smead's wife and
two children.
Elizabeth Smead.
Martin Smith.
Serg. Benoni Stebbins.
Andrew Stevens.
Mary Wells.
John Williams, jr.
Jerusha Williams.

Slain in the Meadow.

Samuel Allis.
Serg. Boltwood.
Robert Boltwood.
Joseph Catlin.
Samuel Foot.

David Hoit, jr.
Jonathan Ingram.
Serg. Benjamin Wait.
Nathaniel Warner.

* Those three wore supposed to liavo boon burned to death in
a cellar.

144 APPENDIX AND NOTES.

JOURNAL OF REV. STEPHEN WILLIAMS.
Through the politeness of Mrs. Jerusha M. Colton, for
merly Miss Williams, of Longmeadow, a descendant of the
Rev. John Williams, and granddaughter of the Rev. Dr.
Stephen Williams, late of Springfield, I am indebted for the
following Journal of her grandfather, kept during his captiv
ity, and for other interesting matter relating to the early In
dian war in this town and vicinity, written by him. It will
be recollected that the Rev. Doctor Stephen Williams was
a son of Mr. John Williams, and was taken prisoner with
him at the last destruction of the town , at the age of eleven
years. The following is his Journal, from his own hand
writing : —
What befell Stephen Williams in his Captivity.
On the last of February, 1703-4, the French and Indians
came and surprised our fort and took it, and after they had
broken into our house and took us prisoners, they barbarous
ly murdered a brother and sister of mine, as they did several
of our neighbors. They rifled our house and then marched
away with us tbat were captives, and set our house and barn
on fire, as they did the greatest part of the town. When the
greatest part of the enemy were gone out of the town, there
carae sorae English from the next town that drove those
Indians that remained in the town away, but they were quick
ly driven back again by the rest of the army. Nine of them
were slain as they retreated. Then they marched a httle
further and stopped, for they had several wounded men that
hindered them. There they told us that, if the English pur
sued, they would kill us, otherwise they would not ; but they
quickly proved theraselves liars, for before they departed from
the place they barbarously murdered a child of about two

tUk.ofB. C.KeUqffyJldrt/brtt.ChnJL

STJEFMEir WI[]L]LMMS,II])olD.

APPENDIX AND NOTES. 145
years old. There my master took away my English shoes,
and gave me Indian ones in the room of them, which I think
were better to travel in. Then we marched five or six miles
farther, where we took up our lodgings. Then one English
man ran back to Deerfield, which provoked them much.
They told us, that if any more ran away, they would burn
the rest. There they slew our negro man. The next morn
ing we travelled about two or three miles, when they mur
dered my ever honored mother, who having gone over a small
river, which water running very swift flung her down, she,
being wet, was not able to travel any farther. We travelled
eight or nine miles farther and lodged that night. There
some were disturbed, for sorae had five or six captives, and
others none. They then called the captives together to make
a more equal distribution, but 1 remained with my former
master. Here they searched me and took away my silver
buttons and buckles which I had on my shirt. Before we
came to a sraall river, named West River, about thirty miles
above Deerfield, they murdered three or four persons ;
where they had sleighs and dogs with which they drew their
wounded men. They travelled (we thought) as if they de
signed to kill us all, for they travelled thirty-five or forty
miles a day.
Here they killed near a dozen women and children, for
their manner was, if any loitered, to kill them. My feet
were very sore, so that I was afraid they would kill me also.
We rested on the Sabbath day ; they gave my father liberty
to preach. Here we sang a psalin, for they requested of
us a song. The next day we travelled a great way farther
than we had at any time before. About the middle of the
day, some that were in the rear fired at some geese that flew
over, which put them into considerable fright, for they
thought that tbe English were come up with them. Then
they began to bind the prisoners, and to prepare themselves
for battle, but when they understood what was the matter,
they shot a volley for joy, boasting that the Enghsh could
not overtake them.

146 APPENDIX AND NOTES.
1 coming to my honored father, he told me he was taken
lame in his ankle, which he sprained in the fall of the year.
He said, likewise, he thought he should be killed, and if I
should live to get to Canada, to tell them who I was, &c. ;
which then did terrify me much; but it pleased the Lord to
strengthen him to perform his journey.
The next day was tempestuous, and 1 froze one of my
feet ; the day after, which was Wednesday, my master bid
me go down to the river with him very early in the moming,
which startled me, for he did not use to be so early. There
that river parted, and I went up one branch, and my father
with my brother and sisters another. I never saw my father
for fourteen months. I did not eat any thing in the morning,
yet raust travel all day, yea, I travelled till about nine o'clock
at night without one morsel of victuals. I travelled about
fifty miles that day and night. For my supper I had one
spoonful of Indian corn, in the morning five or six kernels,
but raust travel. Then we left the river and travelled about
noon on the west side of the river. We carae to two wig-
waras, where we found the signs of Indians, but no Indians.
(In those wigwams they left their sacks and went a hunting,
if perhaps they raight find some moose buried in the snow
by the hunting Indians, but could not find any.)
I wandered about and lost myself, and hollowed. My
master came to me, and was very angry. He lifted up the
breach of his gun in order to kill rae, but God kept back his
hand, for which I desire his name might be praised. The
Indians will never allow any body to hollow in the woods.
Their manner is to make a noise like wolves, or other wild
creatures, when they would call to one another. My master
sent the Indian lad and I to those wigwams, but he himself
took his gun and went a hunting (now there were only we
three in company, we had left all that army) . We made a
fire, but had no victuals lo dress, only a moose's paunch and
bones, which the Indians had left. There we tarried that
night, and the next day till about noon ; then there came an

APPENDIX AND NOTES. 147
Indian girl and brought us some moose's meat dried, which
I thought was the best victuals ever I ate. We travelled
with the Indian girl about ten railes, where were two wig
wams. My master that left us the day before was there.
While we tarried here, tbe French that were in the army
passed by. Within a day or two we travelled seven or eight
miles northward, to a place where they had killed some
moose, where they made wigwams (for tbeir manner was
when they killed any moose to move to them and lie by
them till they had eaten them up). Now there were two
Englishmen of our town in company with me, who came
from tho army, to wit. Deacon Hoit, and one Jacob Hix, a
soldier (now my master was not yet come to his own family).
From hence he went to look for his family, and within a day
or two sent for me. I thought this was hard to go away
alone. Here I left Deacon Hoit and Jacob Hix. Deacon
Hoit I never saw more, for he was dead before I came from
hunting. I went with the messenger, and after a tedious
day's travel came to my master's family. He gave me to his
brother, with whom I continued two or three monlhs llierc-
abouts, hunting moose, bears, and beavers. But when 1 first
arrived here they were extraordinary kind, took care of my
toe which was frozen, would not suffer nie to do any work,
gave me deer-skin lo lie on, and a bear-skin to cover me
withal I but this did not last long, for I was forced to carry
such a pack when I travelled that I could not rise up without
some help, was forced to cut wood, and carry it sometimes a
considerable way on my back. After that raanner 1 lived till
their hunting time was over, without any society but the in
human pagans.
We travelled with the design to go to Cowass, where was /
their rendezvous; but before we had got quite there, we met
some Indians that stopped us. They told us that all the In
dians were coming away from Cowass, which within a day
or two came to be true. Now the reason of their deserting
that place was this : there came an Englishman with six of

148 APPENDIX AND NOTES.
our Indians, and destroyed a family of Indians about twenty
miles from Cowass. Here we staid where these Indians met
us, a month or six weeks. Suffered much for want of provis
ions. The chief of our provision was roots of several sorts
and bark of trees. Here I raet the above-said Jacob Hix.
Deacon Hoit was already dead for want of provision. This
Hix looked like a ghost, was nothing but skin and bone,
could scarce go, had no victuals but what he got himself (for
he had been at Cowass with the Indians planting corn, when
he suffered rauch for want of provision). I was better off
than they ; while I was hunting, we had meat enough, but
neither bread nor salt to eat with it.
There was in company now one Mr. Bradley of Haver
hill, and one Hannah Eastman, one Daniel Avery of Haver
hill, and one Mrs. Jones, and Margaret Hugins, her maid,
&c., who were taken at Northampton Farms.
Now from hence we set away for Canada. My master had
so much lumber to carry, that we were forced to carry a pack
a mile or two, and go back and fetch another, which was very
tedious. Jacob Hix died at the first carrying-place of the
French River (now Onion River). This was an exceedingly
tedious march to me. When we came to the French River, it
was as much as our canoe would carry our lumber, the water
was so shallow ; so that I was forced to travel afoot, on the
bank, which cut out my shoes. My feet were much galled, and
one or two of my toes almost cut off with the stones. I had
little or nothing to eat. My master killed a duck one day in
the river, and for my part I had the entrails, which I laid on
the coals, and they seemed a sweet morsel to me. They ate
skins, &c., but when we arrived at the lake, we were supplied
with fish and fowl. The Indian boys kill the geese with
their bows and arrows, they are so bold, and fish are easily
taken with hooks. One day, as" we sailed on the lake, two
young Indians shot a fish with a bullet and took it into the
canoe. It was as large as 1 am. I arrived at Shamblee in
August, which was about half a year from the time I was

APPENDIX AND NOTES. 149
taken. The French were kind to me, gave me bread, which
1 had not eaten in a great while. They told rae my father
and brothers and sisters were got to Canada, which I was glad
to hear of, for I was afraid ray youngest brother was kdled.
While I tarried here, a Frenchman came and desired the
Indians to let me go with him, which they did. He gave me
some victuals, and raade me lie down in his couch, which my
master'.s son perceiving, told his father, who thought he did
it to hide me, and did design to steal me; upon which he
came up and fetched me away, and would not let me go to
the fort any more, for which I suffered. While here the
French dressed my feet that were wounded, at which the In
dians seemed to be vexed.
From hence we went towards Sorel,but tarried a day or two
near a Frenchman's house, about three miles from Shamblee,
who was kind to me, and would have lodged me in his house,
but the Indians would not allow of it, mistrusting he would
convey me away in the night privately. From hence we
went to Sorel, and as soon as we had landed, there came a
woman across the river on purpose to bring me some victuals,
and seemed to pity me.
Here we tarried a day or two. , My master bid me go to
the fort a visiting, which was about fourscore rods off. 1
went, and at a Frenchman's persuasion tarried all night, and
till next day about noon, when my master came for rae; he
was very angry with me, and after that would never suffer
mo to go to a French house alone. From this place we
went to St. Francis, the Indian fort. My master could not
comply with their rites and customs, whereupon he went to
Albany and gave me to his kinsman, Sagamore George.
But while 1 reraained there, Monsieur Shamblee heard that I
was with Sagamore George, and carae to buy me. I seemed
to be willing to go with him, at which the Indians were much
disturbed, and would not let me go, because I showed a for
wardness to go, and did likewise threaten to kill me, did com
plain to the Jesuit, who came and said tp me, " What, no
love Indian I they have saved your life," &c.

150 APPENDIX AND NOTES.
It is no wonder that the children will not speak to their
friends when they come to see them, but they will scoff at
and deride them, because the Indians have so taught them,
and will be angry if they do otherwise.
While I lived here, I observed that some English children
would scoff at me, and when before the Indians, worse than
the Indian children, but when alone they would talk famil
iarly with me in English, about their own country, &c.,
whereas when before the Indians they would pretend that
they could not speak English. Here the Indians did say
something to me about religion, but- not much ; being Eastern
Indians, were not zealous as the Macquas are.
The French Governor, after he heard I was in the country,
because of my father's entreaties, was often sending tp the
Indians to buy me, who were' quite wearied out because of
the many messages he sent. The Governor was not willing
to give a.bove thirty crowns, whereas they stood for forty. At
length, being wearied out, my master went to the Jesuit, and
got pen, jnk, and paper, would have me write to my father,
for we had heard lie was learned, and had two hundred
pounds a year allowed him, which I believe some of them be
lieved. After he had got paper he takes another Indian with
him that could speak good English, who was to indite for rae.
The substance ofthe letter was this, that if they did not buy
rae before spring, they would not sell me afterwards, and that
he must give forty crowns for me. They carried it to the Jes
uit, who could speak English, to see whether I had written as
they ordered me, and when they found I had, they were well
pleased. My master had a mind to go hunting, and would have taken
me with him ; but because he sent such word, that they
must buy by such a lime, he left me at horae, that I might
be ready if they should send to buy me, and when Captain
Livingston and Mr. Sheldon were come to Canada, my mis
tress thought there would be an exchange of prisoners, and
lest the French should then take me away for nothing, she

APPENDIX AND NOTES. 151
removed up into the woods, about half a mile from the river,
that if they came they might not find me. While on a cer
tain day my mistress went to a French house to get victuals,
and ordered me to spend my day in getting wood ; but it
proved a tempestuous day, and we had half a cart-load at the
door, which is a great deal for Indians to have, so that I did
not get any. When she came horae, being disturbed by the
French, asked what I had been doing ; they replied, nothing,
at which she was very angry. I will not beat you myself,
says she, for my husband ordered me to the contrary, but will
tell the Jesuit, the next time he comes. Within a day or
two the Jesuit came. She was as good as her word, and did
complain. He took me out and whipt me with a whip with
six cords, several knots in each cord.
After a few days he came again, with a letter from my
father, by which I understood he was a prisoner. I told
the Indians, who said they believed it. He likewise said in
his letter that the Governor of New England would take care
we should be redeemed.
Whilst I lived here, I made about fourscore weight of
sugar with the sap of maple trees, for the Indians. My mis
tress had a mind, to go to Sorel, and because there was a
barrel of sap to boil she sent me to the sugar place over
night to boil it, so that we might go in the morning. I went
and kept a good fire under the kettie, little thinking of its
coming to sugar, and it was spoiled for want of stirring, for
the manner is to stir it when it comes almost to sugar. They
were very angry, and would not give me any victuals.
It being now spring, we went in canoes to Sorel ; and so
soon as we had got there, the woman that brought me victuals
across the river when I was there before, came and desired of
the Indians to let me go to the fort, which they consented to.
I went ; but remembering the bad effect of tarrying all night
before, durst not do so again without the Indians' leave. I
went to the Indians and carried them some victuals, and asked
them to let me lie at the fort, which they granted. I kept
here about a fortnight, and lay at the fort every night.

152 APPENDIX AND NOTES. -
When we came to St. Francis we went to master's land,
where I made preparation to plant corn ; but before we began,
the Governor came and bought me, after a long parley, for
forty crowns. With him I went to Sorel, where I met with
Captain Livingston and several captives. Captain Livingston
told me I should go home to New England with him, which
revived me much ; — but the Governor quickly altered his
mind^ and said I must not go from hence.
I went down to Quebec with the Lord Intendant. When
I arrived I found several English people that were prisoners.
Here one Mr. Hill took care of me, and cut my hair for me
(now my hair was like an Indian's, one side long and the
other short). He got me a shirt, and a pair of breeches, and
a jacket and stockings.
From hence, on the llth of May, I was sent to live with
my father at Chateauviche. While here, the French were
very courteous and kind to me, as they were to my father.
This seemed almost home to me, because my father I had not
seen for fourteen months. When Mr. Dudley came to Can
ada, my father and I were sent to Quebec. When we were
at Quebec, Captain Courtamouch took us to his house and
entertained us very nobly. He said he had received kindness
at New England. While we were at Quebec, the Seminary,
a faraous building, was burnt. And upon Mr. Dudley and
Captain Vetch petitioning, the Governor gave me liberty to
come horae ; and accordingly I came home on the 12th of
October, 1705, but I left my honored father and brothers
and sisters behind ; and, after a tedious voyage, I arrived
safe at Boston, in New England, on the 2 Ist of November,
1705. And 1 desire that the name of God may be praised
and adored for his wonderful goodness to me in sparing my
life when I was as it were on the brink of eternity, and that
he stayed the hands of those that took up their weapons to
slay rae with them.
N. B. That while with the Indians I was in great danger
of being drowned several times.

APPENDIX AND NOTES. 153

Extract from Rev. Dr. Stephen Williams's Journal.
September 16, 1696. John Sraead and John Gillet, being in
the woods hunting bees, were beset by a company of French
Mohawks. Gillet waa taken prisoner, and Smead escaped.
The Indians fearing a discovery by Smead, sixteen of them
hastened away towards the town, and three were left with
Gillet. It being lecture-day, the people were got out of the
meadows that they might attend the lecture, so that the enetny
came as far as Mr. Daniel Belding's house,* within gunshot
ofthe fort. Mr. Belding, being belated about his work, harl
but just got home frora the field, and left his cart that was
loaded with corn, and went into the house ; and the Indians
rushed upon thera, and took hira prisoner and his son Nathan
iel, aged twenty-two years, and daughter Esther, aged thir
teen years, and killed his wife and his son Daniel, and John,
and his daughter Thankful. They took his son Samuel from
the cart, but he kicked and scratched and bit so, that tho In
dian set him down and struck the edge of his hatchet into the
pate of his head, and then pulled out his hatchet and left him
for dead. His brains followed the hatchet; but he revived,
and got to the fort, where there was care taken of him, and,
notwithstanding the wound that he had, it pleased God and
his life was spared ; his wound healed, and he is yet living.
He was once or twice accounted to be dead, and once ac
counted as dead a day or two afler his being wounded. Abi
gail Belding, another daughter, was shot in the arm as she
was running to the fort, but it was generally thought the bul
let that struck her came from the fort. Sarah Belding, an
other ofthe daughters, hid herself amongst some tobacco in
the chamber, and so escaped. The people in the fort, being
then at the public worship, were alarmed, shot from the fort,
and wounded one of the enemy in the fleshy part of the thigh.
* On the ground where Mr. Ralph Williams now lives.
10

154 APPENDIX AND NOTES.
The Indians fired at the fort, and wounded one Mr. Williams
^s he went out of the gate.
The enemy presently withdrew, (they were not one quar
ter of an hour in doing the exploit,) and were followed hy
some brisk young men into the meadow, who came within
thirty rods and fired at them, and the Indians at them again,
without damage on either side. The Indians killed some cat
tle that were feeding in the meadows. A boy that had the
care of the cattle hid hiraself in the weeds, and escaped.
The eneray went up the Green River and came to the com
panions they had left with Gillet. John Smead came into
the house soon after Mr. Belding's faraily were well off.
The first night the eneray lodged in a round hole near the
river above the rock in New Hampshire, and from thence pur
sued their way to Canada by the way of Otter Creek, leaving
Connecticut River, &c. When they came near Otter Creek,
they came upon sorae tracks of Albany Indians that were go
ing to Canada ; — for in those times the Indians from Albany
were wont to go a scalping, as they call it, to Canada.
They sent out their scouts and were upon the look-out, and
at length discovered their smoke. ' And then they flung down
their packs and painted themselves, and tied their English
captives to trees and left two men to guard them, and pro
ceeded on their business. Having divided themselves into
two companies, they fell upon the savage company, which
consisted of six men, and killed two of them, wounded two,
and two escaped. Among the slain was one Uroew, an In
dian known among the English, and supposed to be a bloody
fellow. Of their own men, one was wounded near the fleshy
part of the thigh, as one had before been at Deerfield. The
prisoners were one a Schaghticook Indian, and the other a
young Albany Mohawk. When the skirmish was over, the
English were brought up, and so they proceeded on their
journey. Mr. Belding asked the Schaghticook Indian (now
his fellow-prisoner) what the enemy would do with tliem, who
replied, that they would not kill the English prisoners, but

APPENDIX AND NOTES. 155
give some of them to the French, and keep some of them
themselves; but be expected to be burnt himself ; but when
they came to the lake, one rainy night, they made no fires,
and some of them lodged under the canoes, from which this
Schaghticook raade his escape, having loosed himself by some
means from his cords, &c. ; and although he was pursued, the
enemy could not recover him. As for the young Albany
Mohawk, he was kept alive, being one of their own nation.
The French Mohawk went, on their return to Canada, to the
sect of the Romish religion. When Mr. Belding and com
pany came to the fort called Oso, the males were obliged to
ruri the gantlet. Mr. Belding, being a very nimble and
light-footed man, received but few blows, save at first setting
out, but the other two men were much abused by clubs, fire
brands, &c.
They arrived at Canada ; and now they found what the
Schagliticook Indian said to be true, for the Indians kept
Mr. Belding himself and his daughter with them, and gave
John Gillet and Nathaniel Belding to the French. Gillet
worked as a servant to the nuns at their farm, and Nathaniel
Belding worked for the Holy Sisters.
On the night of the 9th of July following, Mr. Belding was
sold to the French, and lived as a servant with the Jesuits at
the Seminary. His business was to wait upon tbem, and
cut wood, make fires, &c., and tend the garden, and account
ed himself favorably dealt by, &c. In the winter following,
Colonel Abraham Schuyler, with some others, carae to Can
ada, and brought with thera a copy of the articles of peace
between England and France, and ret'urned home with some
Dutch captives.
In April following. Colonel Peter Schuyler, and Colo-
ne A. Schuyler, and the Dutch Domine, with sorae others,
came to Canada, and the French Governor gave liberty to all
captives, English and Dutch, to return home ; — yea, allowed
them to obligate under sixteen years of age to return with
them ; those above that age were to be at their hberty, &c.

156 APPENDIX AND NOTES.
These Dutch gentlemen gathered up all the captives, both
English and Dutch, that ihey could find, and returned June
8; took Mr. Belding and his children, and Martin Smith,
with about twenty more English, with them, and arrived at
Albany in about fifteen days, where the Dutch people treated
him with a great deal of kindness, and offered to send him
home directly to Deerfield. Colonel Schuyler clothed him
and his children, at the desire of his brother, Mr. John Bel
ding, of New York, who paid him for the clothes, &.c. After
about three weeks' stay at Albany, Mr. Belding and his chil
dren went down the river to New York, where his brother
had provided a place for his entertainment. From York he
went in a vessel to Stamford, and from thence returned to
New York, and after some stay there, returned to Deerfield.
John Gillet got home a little before him by the way of France,
and so to England, having received great kindness in England.

An Account of some Ancient Things. From ihe same.
Capt. Wright, Lieut. Wells,  Wright, .Tabez Olm-
stead. Job Strong, Jonathan Hoit, Tim. Childs, John Burt,
and Tim. Pagan, and Joshp Ephn., at the lake went with
in four miles of Shamblee, killed one and wounded three,
and at French River killed eight. Leaving B. and Lieut.
Wells, and John S. wounded. They got one canoe with
their prisoners. This was next day after the expedition at
the lake ; slept at White River Eli Severance, Thomas Mc-
Crary, Joseph Root, and Sergeant Wait.
Deerfield, May 10, 1704. John Allen and his wife, going
out from the garrison about two miles upon some business,
were ambushed by the Indians, who killed him outright, and
took his wife, whom they killed about a mile or two from the
place. About the middle of July, 1704, a friend Indian was killed

APPENDIX AND NOTES. 157
at Hatfield MiH ; his narae was Kindniss. The enemy had
not time to scalp him.
On the sarae week, Thomas Russel, a young raan of Hat
field, being then a soldier of Deerfield, was sent out into the
woods with men as a scout, but he, rambling from his com
pany, waa killed by the Indians.
Some tirae in May or June, 1705, Joseph Petty, John
Nims, Thoraas Baker, and Martin Kellogg, jr. raade their
escape frora Montreal, and got horae to Deerfield, &c.
July 13, 1704. One Dr. Croasman, with two or three
raore men, were riding in the night between Hadley and
Springfield, and were fired upon by the enemy, who wound
ed Dr. Grossman in the arra. This is the only time that I
can learn that Ihey ever fired upon any body in the night.
July 31, 1706. Samuel Chapin and hia brother went up
to their farm, perceiving signs of Indians, at a place called
Chicopee, in the north part of Springfield. They hastened
toward the town, but the Indians followed them about a mile
and a half, and then fired upon them, and shot Samuel Cha
pin through the side, Ijut he recovered of his wound. The
same company of Indians, as it ia supposed, went to Brook-
field, and killed the widow Taft as she was milking.
July 9, 1708. Samuel and Joseph Parsons, of Northamp
ton, sons to Captain John Parsona, being in the woods look
ing after cattle, were slain by the Indians.
July 26, 1708. About seven or eight Indians rushed into
the house of Lieutenant Wright, at a place called Skipmuck,
in Springfield, and killed and scalped, and they heat their
heads to pieces, Aaron Parsons, and Barijah Hubbard, who
were soldiers ; knocked down and scalped old Mr. Wright,
who yet lived about three months and then died ; two chil
dren of Henry Wright, that lay in the cradle, they knocked
on the head ; one of them died that night, the other recov
ered, and is still living. They took Henry 'yVright's wife
captive, whom it is supposed they afterwards killed and
scalped. Lieutenant Wright got out of his shop window,

158 APPENDIX AND NOTES.
and made his escape ; and a daughter of his ra*n out at a door
which latched on the outside, and pulled the string after her,
and so escaped. The house was not fortified, but had flank
ers at two corners, &c.
October 30, 1708. Abijah Bartiet was killed at Brook-
field, and Joseph Jennings and Benjamin Jennings and John
Green were wounded ; a boy of John Woolcot's was taken.
October 26, 1708. Ebenezer Field, of Hatfield, going to
Deerfield, was killed near Muddy, or, as some call it. Bloody
Brook, for there it was that Captain Lathrop and his com
pany were cut off in Philip's war.
August, 1708. A scout of six men, about an hundred
miles above Deerfield, were fell upon by a party of Indians,
and one Robert Windsor was slain ; but after he had received
his mortal wound, he got upon his knees and shot the very
Indian that shot him, and fell down and died. So that when
the Indians carae to thera, which was within a few minutes,
they were both dead, lying within a few rods one of another.
This account I had of an Indian, who, upon relating the
matter, added, " No, he is not Barber, but his ghost." At
the same time Martin Kellog was taken, which was the
second time of his going into captivity, but before he was
taken, discharged his gun and wounded an Indian in his
thigh. April II, 1709. Mr. Mehuman Hinsdale was driving his
team from Northampton, without any fear of Indians (the
leaves not being put forth) ; was met by two Indians about
half a mile frora the Pine Bridge in Hatfield North Meadow,
who took him prisoner, and carried him away into the West
Woods. The Indians were civil and courteous to him on
their journey. They arrived at Shamblee within about eleven
days and a half. After they took Mr. Hinsdale from Sham
blee, they carried him to Oso, the fort, where he was obliged
to run the gantlet, as they call it, for near three quarters of a
mile, but he ran so swiftly as not to receive a blow till he
came near the fort, when he was met by an Indian, who,

APPENDIX AND NOTES. 159
taking hold of the line that was round hia neck, and hung
upon his back, pulled hira down, and so he was struck by one
fellow. After he was got into the fort, he was set in the
midst of the company, and obliged to aing and dance, and
while thus employed, he was struck a very severe blow upon
his naked back by a youth of such an age as to think of en
gaging in some warlike expedition ; but this, being contrary
to their usual custom, (he having performed the ceremony of
running the gantiet,) was resented, not only by Mr. Hinsdale,
the sufferer, but by the Indians in general. From this fort
Mr. Hinsdale was carried to the French Governor, who knew
him (for this waa the second time of Mr. Hinsdale's captiv
ity), and told him he expected a full account of what news,
especially about an expedition which he suspected was on
foot. The Governor told him if he would give him a full
account of what there was in hia country, he would treat him
with respect ; but if he found he did not, he would use him
worse than a Devil, &c. But Mr. Hinsdale avoided what he
could toward giving him an account ; but when Mr. Whitney
of Billerica was brought into the country by the Indians, and
gave an account of an expedition on foot, Mr. Hinsdale was
taken and put into the dungeon, &c.
After a while the Indians desired of the Governor that
they might have Mr. Hinsdale to burn, pretending they
would fight the better against the English if they could burn
an Englishman, and he was delivered to the Indians, who
were plotting to leave the French and go over to Cxeneral
Nicholson and the Dutch, and designed to make use of Mr.
Hinsdale to have introduced them, &c. He was recaptivated
from the French, and Mr. Hinsdale was led away towards
Montreal from Quebec. The Indians comraunicated their
design to Mr. Hinsdale, who was overjoyed with the account
(for he thought of nothing but being sacrificed by thera), and
encouraged it ; but before they were ready to execute their
design, a certain Indian fell sick, and in his sickness making
confession to a priest, discovered the plot, and so all was
dashed.

160 APPENDIX AND NOTES.
The fellow that was the projector of it (being one that had
corae from Albany upon sorae of the Five Nations and to
thera) had timely notice to escape to Shamblee, where he
put a trick upon the officer of the fort, pretending to him
that he was sent by the Governor to make what discovery if
the English supplied him with arms, ammunition, and pro
visions ; and he had been gone but a little while into the
wood before his pursuers (the plot being wholly ripped up)
came after him ; but he was gone, so as to escape his pursuers.
Mr. Hinsdale was taken from the Indians, and again commit
ted to prison, and the next year Mr. Hinsdale and Mr. Joseph
Clesson were sent lo France in a man-of-war ^ and in France
he met with great kindness, particularly frora the Lord In
tendant of Rochelle, and after a while they were shipped at
St. Melores for London, where they met witb great kindness,
especially from Mr. Agent Dummer, who interceded with
the Lords of the Admiralty, who ordered them on board one
of the Qneen's ships, which brought them to Rhode Island,
from whence they got home in safety, after Mr. Hinsdale had
been absent frora his family about three years and a half.
[About the Ist of June, 1836, I copied the inscription on
the old tomb-stone of Mehuman Hinsdale, in our old burying-
yard. Il is on a beautiful light-blue slate-stone, one of the
most durable kinds of stone for monuments, and, in ray opin
ion, far superior to raarble. The grave-stone of the second
wife of the Rev. John Williams is of the sarae material, and
one of the finest in this yard.
" Here lies buried the body of Lievt. Mehuman Hinsdell,
died May ye 9, 1736, in the 63d year of his age, who was
the first male child born in this place, and was twice capti
vated by the Indian Salvages.
"Math. 5th-7th — ' Blessed are the merciful, for they
shall obtain mercy.' "]
August, 1709. John Clary and Robert Granger were
slain at Brookfield.
July 22, 1710. John Grosvenor, Ebenezer Howard, John

APPENDIX AND NOTES. 161
White, Benjamin and Stephen Jennings, and Joseph Kel
logg, were slain in the meadow at Brookfield.
August 10, 1711. Samuel Strong, of Northampton, with
his son Samuel, going in the morning very early into the
field, were ambuscaded by a party of Indians, who fired upon
them and killed and scalped the young man, and wounded the
old genlloman in the shoulder, and then took him captive and
carried him to Canada ; but he has since returned home again.
July 39, 1712. Benjamin Wright, a lad, son to Joseph
Wright of Skipmuck, in Springfield, being in a meadow at
Skipmuck, was taken by the Indians, and afterwards killed
ill the woods, as was supposed.
July 30, 1712. A scout of men that was out above Deer
field, being very careless and noisy as they travelled, were
fired upon by a party of Indians, who killed Sarauel Andross,
and look Jonathan Barrett and Williara Sanford captives.
June 18, 1724. A small company of Indians fell upon
some men in Hatfield, at a place called the Mill Swamp,
about four miles from town, and killed Benjamin Smith, and
took captive Joseph Allis and Aaron Wells. The men they
killed within a day or two, &c.
July 10, 1724. Timothy Childs and Samuel Allen were
wounded by the Indians in Deerfield Meadow ; but they re
covered of their wounds, &c.

162 APPENDIX AND NOTES.

THE BARRS FIGHT.
In order to render the history of Indian battles, which are
necessarily connected with the biography of Mr. WiUiams,
complete, it is thought advisable to give sorae account of the
Barrs Fight, so called, as this was the last incursion of the
Indians against the town of Deerfield.
In the year 1744, the war again commenced between
France and Great Britain, and the Indians again became the
alliea of France. From 1725 to 1745 there were scarcely
any Indian depredations in Deerfield or its vicinity. In 1745
there were several skirmishes with the Indians in various
parts ofthe country, but none within the borders of Deerfield,
or in which her citizens were engaged.
On the 25th of August, 1746, occurred the Barrs Fight, at
the southwest part of Deerfield Meadows. The foUowing
relation was given me by Miss Eunice AUen, who on that
day was tomahawked by an Indian, but survived the cruel
wound. Miss Allen was above eighty years of age when she
gave me the history. She had at this time been confined to
her bed more than sixteen years, but her recollection was
very clear and distinct. She remembered the events of that
day as perfectly as if they had taken place yesterday. Her
account agrees with that of the Rev. Mr. Taylor, published
in 1793.
Fort Massachusetts, at the western foot of Hoosac Moun
tain, about thirty miles west of Deerfield, was taken on the
20th of August, 1746. After the capitulation, a party of In
dians, meditating an attack upon Deerfield, came down upon
the borders ofthe meadows, and reconnoitred thera. They firSt
examined the North Meadow, and then the South. Finding
a quantity of hay in the South Meadow, two miles south of
the Street, and supposing that our people would be there at
work the next day, they concealed themselves in the brush

APPENDIX AND NOTES. 163
and underwood upon the borders of the adjoining hills. The
next day, ten or twelve raen and children, the men armed
with guns, which they always carried with them, went into
the field and commenced their labor. A Mr. Eleazer Hawks
was out hunting partridges on the .hills, where the Indians
lay, that morning. He saw a partridge, and shot it. This
alarmed the Indians, who supposed they were discovered.
They imraediately killed and scalped Mr. Hawks, and then
proceeded to attack the workmen. They fought some tirae,
which gave sorae of the children an opportunity to escape.
Mr. Allen, father of Miss Allen, resolutely maintained his
ground in defence of three children, who were al work with
him in the field, until he killed one or two of the enemy.
When he was overpowered, he fought them with the breech
of his gun, but he was finally shot, and horribly mangled.
The shirt which he wore on that day, torn with many balls
and gashed with tomahawks, is still to be aeen, a.s a curios
ity, either in the Museum in Deerfield Academy, or at the
house of his grandson, at the Barrs. In thia engngement
three men and a boy were killed, one boy was taken prisoner,
and Miss Allen was wounded in tbe head, and left for dead,
but not scalped. In endeavoring to make her escape, she
was pursued by an Indian with an uplifted tomahawk and a
gun. She was extremely active, and would have outrun him,
had he not fired upon her. The ball missed her, but she
supposed that il had struck her, and in her fright she fell.
The Indian overtook her, and buried his tomahawk in her
head, and left her for dead. The firing in the meadows
alarraed the people in the Street, who ran to the scene of
action, and the Indians made a hasty retreat, and were pur
sued for several miles by a body of men under the command
of Captain Clesson. Miss Allen was passed hy a number of
people, who supposed her to be dead. At last an uncle came
to her, discovered signs of life, and conveyed her horae. Her
wound was dressed by Dr. Thomas Williams, who took from
it considerable quantities of brain.

164 APPENDIX AND NOTES.
Samuel AUen, Jr., the boy who was taken in this engage
ment, was carried to Canada, and remained with the Indians
a year and nine months. He was finally redeemed by Colo
nel John Hawks, of this town, who was a celebrated partisan
officer in Indian warfare, and a most useful and worthy raan,
whose biography should he transraitted to poaterity. He
was extremely loth to see Colonel Hawks, who was his uncle,
and when he came into his presence he refused to speak the
English language, pretending to have forgotten it ; and al
though he was dressed most shabbily, fared raost miserably,
and was covered with vermin, he was very rauch opposed
to leaving the Indians. Threats and force were finaUy em
ployed to make him consent to quit them, and he asserted to
the day of his death, that the Indian mode of life was the
happiest. To give a complete view of all the Indian skirmishes which
have ever occurred in the valley of the Connecticut, north of
Springfield in Massachusetts, I shall subjoin the date of aU
those I have not heretofore enumerated. In July, 1745, the
Indians attacked Great Meadow, above Fort Dummer on the
Connecticut, and captivated William Phips ; after marching
half a mile, Phips killed one of his captors, and knocked down
another, when he attempted to escape, but three ofthe enemy
overlook and killed him. Josiah Fisher was killed and
scalped about the same tirae, near Upper Ashuelot.
On the 1 1th of October, the Indians again attacked the fort
at Great Meadow, but unsuccessfully. Nehemiah How was
taken and carried to Quebec, where he died. On tbeir re
turn, they killed a man by the name of David Rugg. In
April, 1746, the enemy took from No. 4 (Charlestown, New
Hampshire), then the raost northerly settlement on the Con
necticut, Captain John Spafford, Isaac Parker, and Stephen
Farnsworth, and carried them to Canada, and soon after, near
Northfield, they killed Joshua Hollon. On the 23d of this
month a large party of Indians made an unsuccessful attempt
upon the fort at the Upper Ashuelot. John BuUard and the

APPENDIX AND NOTES. 165
wife of Daniel McKinne were killed, aud Nathan Blake was
made prisoner.
Early in May, No. 4 was again attacked. Seth Putnam
was killed. They were driven off by the intrepidity of Colo
nel Willard, having lost two of their number.
May 6th, an unsuccessful attack was made upon the fort
at Fall-town (now Bernardstown). John Burke was wound
ed, though not severely. They burnt one housej and killed
about ten cattle. The Indians lost two men. On that very
day Sergeant John Hawks and John Miles were wounded by
the Indiana near Fort Masaachusetts. Milea escaped to the
fort. Hawks fought them for some lime single-handed, and
might have taken them both had he understood their language.
They bogged for quarter ju.st before he turned to escape.
On the 10th of the same month, Matthew Clark with his
wife and daughter at Colerain, were fired upon by five In
dians who had been a short time before at Fall-town. Clark
was killed outright, and his wife and daughter wounded.
One of the Indians was killed by a soldier in the fort at Cole-
rain, tha rest retreated, and the wounded were brought in.
Soon after, the enemy again attacked No. 4. Captain Stevens
repulsed them with the loss of three men, viz. Aaron Lyon,
Peter Perrin, and Joseph Marcy. Four of his men were
wounded, and one taken captive.
On the llth of June the Indians attacked Fort Massachu
setts and were repulsed. They wounded Gershom Hawks
and Elisha Nims, and captured Benjamin Tenter. The In
dians lost one man.
No. 4 waa again attacked on the 19th, and a gallant ac
tion maintained by CaptainsjStevens and Brown. The eneray
were again driven back. Jedediah Winchel was killed, and
David Parker, Jonathan Stanhope, and Noah Healon were
wounded, but recovered.
On the 20th, about twenty Indians attacked Bridgraan's
Fort, just below Fort Dumraer. William Bobbins and James
Parker were kUled ; John Beaumont and Daniel How were

166 APPENDIX AND NOTES.
captivated ; Michael Gilson and Patrick Ray were wounded,
but recovered.
July 28th, the Indians took David Morrison, of Colerain, a
prisoner. August 3d, No. 4 was again atta'cked, and Ebenezer Phil
lips was killed. After this they retreated, after having burnt
several buildings and killed many cattle and horses.
On the llth, Benjamin Wright of Northfield waa killed,
while riding in the wooda, by a shot from an Indian. Eze
kiel WaUingford of Paquaig (now Athol), was killed and
scalped on the -nth ; and on the same day a man by the
name of Bliss was killed and scalped near Colerain or Ber
nardston on the road from Deerfield.
1747. Again No. 4 was unsuccessfully attacked. Two
men by the names of Joseph Ely and John Brown were
slightly wounded on the 7th of April.
Asahel Burt and Nathaniel Dickinson of Northfield were
killed and scalped on the 15th. As the enemy returned from
Northfield, they burnt the principal part of the buildings in
Winchester and Lower Ashuelot, the inhabitants having pre
viously deserted them.
On the 15lh of July, Mr. Eliakim Sheldon of Bernardston
waa killed by an Indian, and some time in the course of this
month John Mills of Colerain was also killed.
August 26th, the enemy appeared at Northampton, and
killed and scalped Elijah Clark. John Smead was also killed
and scalped, as he was travelling from Northfield to Sun
derland. A skirmish took place on the 24th of October, between
twelve men who were passing down the river from No. 4,
and a body of Indians. The enemy kUled and scalped Na
thaniel Gould and Thomas Goodell. Oliver Avery was
wounded, and John Henderson was captivated. The rest
escaped. 1748. March 15th, twenty Indians attacked about eight
of our men who were out a few rods from No. 4. Charles

APPENDIX AND NOTES. 167
Stevens was kdled, one Androus waa wounded, and Eleazer
Priest was captivated.
On the 9th of May, Noah Bixley of Southampton was
killed and scalped.
As Captain Melvin with eighteen men ahout this time
was at the lake near Crown Point, he fired al two canoes
containing Indians. When on his return, being on the Weal
River, thirty or forty miles above Fort Dumraer, he was at
tacked by surprise by the Indians, and his raen were dis
persed. Some of them rallied and returned the fire of the
enemy, and kUled one of them. Melvin lost six raen. The
rest returned at intervals. The names of the men who were
killed were Joseph Petty, John Heywood, John Dod, Daniel
Mann, and Isaac Taylor. It is supposed Samuel Severance
was captivated.
As thirteen men were marching from Colonel Hinsdale's,
on the 13th, to Fort Dummer, they were attacked by a large
body of Indians. Joseph Richardson, Nathan French, and
John Frost were killed instantaneously. Henry Stevens,
Ben. Osgood, WUliam Blanchard, Matthew Wiman, Joel
Johnson, Moses Perkins, and WiUiam Bickfbrd were capti
vated. Bickford probably died of his wounds.
Aa Captain Hobbs from No. 4 was marching, on the 28lh
of June, through the woods with forty men, about twelve miles
northwest of Fort Dummer, he was attacked by a large body
of Indians, who pursued him. With much coolness, judg
ment, and deliberation, he arranged hia raen in order, and
fought the enemy four hours with great bravery, and dis
persed them. Captain Hobbs lost three men, viz. Ebenezer
Mitchel, Eli Scott, and Samuel Gunn. Three also were
wounded. On the 14th of July, a scout of seventeen men, while pass
ing from Colonel Hinsdale's to Fort Dummer, were fired
upon by 120 Indians. Two of the scout were killed at the
onset, two were wounded, four escaped, and the rest were
captivated. The Indians kUled the wounded, after they had

168 APPENDIX AND NOTES.
proceeded with them about a mile. On the 23d, the Indians
killed a man in Northfield Street, by the name of Aaron
Belding. On the 2d of August, two hundred ofthe enemy were hov
ering round Fort Massachusetts, which was then under the
coramand of Captain, since Colonel, Ephraim WUliams. The
Indians fired upon a scout from the fort, and Captain WUliams
with thirty men went out to meet thera, but their nurabers
were so great that he thought it best to return. In this ac
tion one Abbot was kUled, and Lieutenant Hawley and Eze
kiel Wells wounded, but not dangerously. This vvas the
last mischief done by the enemy till the year 1755, as peace
occurred between France and England in 1748, and war did
not again break out till 1756. Nevertheless, the Indians
began their depredations again in 1755, in the sumraer of
which year a number of them appeared at Stockbridge, and
killed several men and cattle. In June they attacked a party
of men who were at work in the meadow in the upper part of
Charlemont. Several escaped, but Captain Rice and Phineas
Arms were killed, and their bodies were horribly mangled.
A boy by the name of Titus King was taken prisoner. In the
same month the Indians attacked Bridgman's Fort at Hinadale,
and carried il. Fourteen persons were captivated. Caleb
Howe was kiUed. The remainder escaped. About the same
time the fort at Keene, under the coraraand of Captain Sims,
was attacked with great fury, by a large body of Indians.
They were repulsed with fortitude. No lives were lost on
the part of the English, but many cattle were killed, and
houses burnt. One person who was out of the fort was
taken. They soon afler appeared at the same fort, and took
a man by the narae of Frizzle.
In July a large body of th« enemy again^ attacked Fort
Hinadale, and kUled two men, one named Alexander, and
took one priaoner. Nearly at the same time they killed two
men at Bellowa's Fort ; and somewhat farther up the river
a man by the name of Pike was tilled.

APPENDIX AND NOTES. 169
1756. June 17lh. At Winchester this day Josiah Foster
and his family were captivated, and on the sarae day at Fort
Masaachusetts the Indians kUled Benjamin King and a man
by the name of Meacham. In June also they kiUed Lieuten
ant Joseph Willard at No 4.
On the 25lh of the sarae raonth, a large body of Indians
attacked a body of our men, who were returning from the
army at the lake. Eight men were killed, and five taken
prisoners. Captain Chapin, and two persons by the name of Chi-
dester, were killed by the Indians on the llth of July, at a
place called West Hoosac.
In the year 1757 the enemy made his appearance at No. 4,
and took five persons prisoners.
On the 20lh of March, 1758, the enemy fired on and wound
ed John Morriaon and John Henry of Colerain, near North
River, a branch of Deerfield River. They burnt Cajitain
Morrison's barn, and killed his cattle, the same day. On the
Blst, the Indians again made their appearance at Colerain,
and took Joaeph McCown and his wife prisoners. They
kUled Mrs. McCown the next day, she being unable to travel.
After this period the people in this section of tho country
were not molested by the Indians.

II

170 APPENDIX AND NOTES.

EXTRACT FROM A SERMON,
Preached at Mansfield, August 4, 1741, at a Time set apart
for Prayer for the Revival of Religion, and on Behalf of
Mrs. Eunice, the Daughter ofthe Rev. Mr. John Williams
[formerly Pastor of Deerfield.), who was then on a Visit
there, from Canada, where she has been long in Captivity:
by Solomon Williams, A. M., Pastor of the First Church
in Lebanon.
"You raay well think I have all along had some special
eye to the uncommen occasion of prayer at this time, for that
person here present with us, who has been for a long tirae in
a miserable captivity, with a barbarous and heathen people,
now for more than thirty-eight years ; yet among that people
bred up in Popish superstition, blindness, and bigotry, who,
by the providence of God, came last year, and now again
with her husband and two of her children, on a visit to her
friends in New England. Some of you know well, and I am
sure I do, how long she has been the subject of prayer.
What numberless prayers have been put up to God for her by
many holy souls now in heaven, as well as many who yet
remain on earth ! How many groans and fervent prayers
can these ears witness to have uttered and breathed forth with
a sort of burning and unquenchable ardor from the pious and
holy soul of her dear father, now with God ! I know not that
ever I heard hira pray, after his own return from captivity,
without a remembrance of her ; that God would return her to
His sanctuary, and the enjoyment of the Gospel light and
grace in that purity and simplicity in which il shines in our
land. But in this it seemed as if he never could be denied ;
that God would not let her perish in Popish superstition and
ignorance ; but, let her place be where it would, that he
would, as he easily could, find some way for deliverance from
those snares and thick-laid stratagems of the DevU to beguile

APPENDIX AND NOTES. 171
and ruin poor souls, and make her a monument of his glori
ous and almighty ]*race. And this he was wont to do with
such expressions of faith in God, and holy fervors of hia soul,
as seemed to breathe himself and her into the arms ofthe
covenant of grace. God did not give hira leave to see the
performance of his wishes and desires for her, but took them
to satisfy him in God himself, and make him perfectly know
that not a tittle ofthe covenant should ever fail ; and left her
in the same slate, to try the faith and call forth the prayers of
hia people stUl. We now see some dawnings towards her
deliverance, and living hopes of it ; though all endeavora of
men to persuade her here have been heretofore tried in vain.
It has pleased God to incline her the last summer, and now
again of her own accord, to raake a visit lo her friends; and
seems lo encourage us to hope that He deaigna to anawer the
many prayera which have been put up for her, and, by the
mighty power of his providence and grace, to give us one ex
traordinary conviction that he is a God hearing prayer."

The following extract of a letter to me from Mrs. Jerusha
M. Colton, on the same subject, dated Longmeadow, May
26th, 1836, is. highly interesting, and I have no doubt she
wiU pardon me for the freedora I have taken in transcrib
ing it : —
" I send you an old serraon, thinking the occasion of it
might interest you, if you have never seen il. Hereis an
other testiraony of one peraonally acquainted with my great
grandfather, of his deep piety, and I think a remarkable ex
pression of it.
" My aunt Eunice was indeed the object of great solicitude.
I have heard my dear mother say of my grandfather, as it is
here said of my father, that she never heard him pray with
out remembering her. She made her first visit here in

172 APPENDIX AND NOTES.
1740. My uncle Eleazer, of Mansfield, Mr. Meacham, Es
ther's husband, and ray grandfather, met their dear and long-
lost sister in Albany. The affair was negotiated entirely
by their friends the Schuylers. It was with difficulty she
was prevailed upon to come to Albany, and she resolutely de
terrained lo come no farther, for fear she should be detained ;
but they finally persuaded her and her husband to corae to
Longmeadow and there visit their other friends. Finding,
although they were urged to stay, that they would not be
compelled to do any thing contrary to their wishes, they
came the next year, with two children, and stayed several
months, visiting their friends in Boston and elsewhere. The
Legislature ofthe State granted them a tract of land, if they
would plant themselves in New England ; but she positively
refused on this ground, — that it would endanger her soul.
She visited here twice afterwards, and lived to a great age."

APPENDIX AND NOTES. 173

ELEAZER WILLIAMS, GRANDSON OF EUNICE
WILLIAMS.
A STRANGE story is going the rounds of the public papers
and magazines, purporting that Eleazer Williams, the part-
breed Indian, a descendant from Eunice mentioned above, who
waa taken captive at the tirae of the deatruction of the town
of Deerfield bythe French and Indians in 1703-4, is the
Dauphin, son of Louis the Sixteenth, late king of France.
I have been acquainted with Eleazer ever aince he was a
young man, and have never heard his origin or his parentage
doubted until within the last four or five years, and never
from him before the year 1849. I have no doubt of hia regu
lar descent from Eunice Williams ; and, notwithstanding all
that' has been said about his having no Indian appearance
about him and no Indian blood in hia veins, I think in many
respects he resembles an Indian half-breed. Let olhera who
have seen him judge for themselves. He showed me a scar
upon his side, which he said waa in conaeqiience of a wound
he received in the late war with Great Britain. He request
ed me to examine the scar for the purpose of determining
whether I thought such a wound would be sufficient to entitle
him to a pension from Congress. I do not know how much
the color of his skin may have altered since then, under his
dress, but at that time it was more the color of an Indian
than a white man.
Although I have known him since he was quite young, yet
I have never discovered any traces of idiocy about him, as
aUeged ; and others, who have known him when he waa a
boy, coincide with rae in this opinion.
The astounding announcement which was said to have
been made to him by De Joinville, at Green Bay, in 1841,
that he was the Dauphin, son of Louis the Sixteenth, late
king of France, seemed not to have obtained much notoriety
till several years afterwards. This alleged conference raay

174 APPENDIX AND NOTES.
be found in Putnam's Magazine for February, 1853. Prince
de Joinville was son of Louis PhUippe, a relative of Louis
the Sixteenth, who was beheaded in the French Revolution,
and distant presumptive heir to the throne of France. If the
Dauphin's title to the throne was extinguished, then one bar
to De Joinville's accession lo the throne would be reraoved,
and to effect this was supposed to be the object of the Prince's
visit to Eleazer. .
If it was true that Eleazer believed himself to be the Dau
phin, why was he so long sUent upon the subject? Scarce
a lisp of it reached my ears for nearly five years. In the
year 1846 I prepared and wrote a " Genealogy and Hiatory
of the WiUiams FamUy in America," which was published
in a large-sized duodecimo volume, with plates, in the year
1847. As I had but little knowledge of Eleazer's family be
yond his descent from Eunice Williaras by her Indian'hus-
band, I requested bim to give me an account of them, and in
1846 — five years after his conversation with De JoinviUe —
he gave me the substance of the following notice of his fam
ily, without ever making the most dialant alluaion lo his royal
descent, or to his ever having had an interview with De Join
ville. The reader can judge whether, if he beheved himself
to be of royal descent, he would not have alluded to the
fact. My book relates, that Eunice Williaras, who was carried
captive lo Canada in the year 1704, when eight years of age,
was daughter of the Rev. John Williaras, first minister of
Deerfield ; was born September 17, 1696, and died in captivity
at the age of ninety years. At the time Mr. Williams was re
deemed, she was left araong the Indians, and no raoney could
procure her rederaption. She soon forgot the English lan
guage, became an Indian in her habits, married an Indian,
who, it is said, assumed the narae of Williams, though the
Rev. Eleazer Williams of Green Bay stales that his great-
grandmother married an Indian by the narae of De Rogers,
and had three children, one son, John, and two daughters.

APPENDIX AND NOTES. 175
He says it is not true, as has been heretofore stated, that the
Indian who married Eunice assumed the name of Williams,
but that he (Eleazer) received the name of WUliams legiti
mately, or in course, as I shall mention subsequently. John,
the only son of Eunice, was killed in the French and Indian
wars under the celebrated partisan Rogers, at Rogers's Rock,
at Lake George, in 1758. Some years after her marriage,
Eunice visited Deerfield in her Indian dress. She attended
meeting in her father's church while here, and her friends
dressed her in the English fashion. She indignantly threw
off her clothes in the afternoon, and reaumed the Indian
blanket. Every effort was made to perauade her to leave
the Indiana and remain among her relationa, but in vain.
She preferred the Indian mode of life and the haunta of the
Indians, to the unutterable grief of her father and frienda.
Her deacendants have frequently viaited Deerfield since, and
claimed a relationship with the family and descendants of
the Rev. Mr. Williams, and been treated kindly by thera.
I understand by Eleazer, that Charles B. Sallerville, a re
lation, has written her biography in a large manuscript vol
ume. According to Eleazer, her children by John De
Rogers were John, who died in infancy; Sarah, who mar
ried a Williams ; Catherine, who married Francis Here
Rice. Their chUd was Thomas, an only son and only de
scendant from her. He married Marian De Rice, a daugh
ter of one of the captives from Marlborough, Mass. Their
children were Catherine, died 1802, aged 24; Thomas, sup
posed to be dead; Williara, died 1831; Eleazer; Louis;
John; Peter, died 1802; Mary Ann, Charles Pitkin, who
both died young ; and Jarvis.
Sarah, daughter of Eunice above, who was captured at
Deerfield, married an English physician by the narae of WU
liams in the year 1758. The story told me by Eleazer, her
grandson, in relation lo this man, is substantially as foUowa :
— "In the French war of 1755-60, an English fleet was
sent out against the French, which separated in a tremendous

176 APPENDIX AND NOTES.
storm near the coast of Nova Scotia. Dr. Williams was on
board one of the vessels, which waa afterwarda taken by a
French man-of-war. As Dr. Williams was a man of sci
ence and a distinguished physician, he was treated with a
great deal of attention by the French physicians in Canada.
He was a botanist, and was suffered to ramble in various
parts of Canada, and was carried by the Indians in their ca
noes to several of their towns. At Caughnawaga he became
acquainted with Sarah, the daughter of Eunice, and married
her, on condition that he would not move from Canada. This
physician proved to be the son of tbe Bishop of Chichester in
England. They had one son, Thoraas Williaras, the father
of Eleazer Williams, whom I have seen at Deerfield when I
was a boy. He was a captain in the British service during
the American Revolutionary War. Thomas married a
Frenchwoman ; so that Eleazer, according to his own state
ment, has part English, part Indian, and part French blood
in his veins. He had several sons; among the rest. Rev.
Eleazer Williaras, of Green Bay, who was born not far from
the year 1790. He was educated in the United States, and
studied his profession, ifl recollect right, with the celebrated
Dr. Moses Welch, of Mansfield, Conn. He is now (1847)
preaching to the remnant of the Stockbridge tribe of Indians
at Green Bay, in Wisconsin Territory. He is an Episco
palian in Deacon's orders, though educated a Congregational-
iat. He has received marked attention throughout the coun
try, and is a highly distinguished man. He raarried Miss
Mary Hobart Jourdan', a distant relative of the king of
France, from whom he has been honored with several splen
did gifts, among the rest a golden cross and star. He has
one son, by the name of John."
Nearly the whole ofthe above statements, as I have men
tioned, I had from Eleazer himself, five years after his con
ference with De JoinviUe. The public can attach what im
portance to them they please.
In relation to his age, Eleazer has frequently told me that

APPENDIX AND NOTES. 177
he waa horn about the year 1790. By thia he did not mean
five years before, or five years after. We have often com
pared ages, and he has called his age about the aarae as raine,
and I was born in the year 1790. Mr. Hale, Editor of the
Boston Daily Advertiser, with whose father, at Westhamp-
ton, Eleazer lived for some time, says, when he first saw
him, in 1800, he was then but ten years of age. The late
Governor WUliams, of Vermont, who was intimately ac
quainted with him, even from a youth, thinks he was born
about the year 1790. While at my house in the year 1851,
after having for the first tirae in my hearing talked over the
subject of his being the Dauphin, some one of my family in
quired of him concerning his age, and he replied, " If I ara a
Williaras, I am so old ; but ifl am the Dauphin, 1 ara older."
The Dauphin was born in 1785, consequently Eleazer is
about five years younger, which must be fatal lo his clairas.
In relation to his conversation with De JoinvUle, he has
frequendy told rae and my faraily that his visit from the
Prince was in consequence of his relationship to his wife, and
that he received his presents from the same cause. His sto
ries here were much at variance with those in the Magazine.
It appears from letters which I have from time to time re
ceived from Eleazer, in addition to the genealogy mentioned
above, that he persiated for a. nuraber of yeara after his al
leged conversation with De JoinvUle in acknowledging his
descent frora the Rev. John WiUiams of Deerfield, whom he
uniformly speaks of as his grandsire, although removed to
the fourth generation from him. Nothing is more common
than speaking of progenitors and relations in the fourth gen
eration, and even further removed, as grandparents, uncles,
&c. He wrote me from Green Bay on the 27lh of December,
1815, as follows : " I am highly pleased to learn that you
are tracing out the genealogy of the Williams family, and
particularly of my grandfather. Rev. John WiUiams."
In a letter to me from Green Bay, bearing date August

178 APPENDIX AND NOTES.
3d, 1846, after speaking of a discourse which he intended to
prepare and deliver to the inhabitants of Deerfield, in relation
to the life and character of the Rev. John Williaras, first
minister of Deerfield, he says : " 1 am still desirous to pay a
tribute of respect to the meraory of my departed grandsire.
Although the materials in hand for a biography are some
what scanty, yet I am in hopes that I shall be able to collect
sufficient, from the bureaus ofthe descendants in your State,
to raake the discourse interesting, particularly to our famUy."
He proposed a contribution for two discourses before the
citizens of this town. He delivered them on two successive
evenings, before very small audiences. I should hardly
think there were thirty people at the last lecture. A contri
bution was taken up, and 1 think not rauch more than three
dollars was raised. Mr. WUliams went directly from Deer
field to Boston, and about tbat time there appeared an an
nouncement in one ofthe Boston papers, that his lectures had
been received with great applause by very large and respect
able audiences at Deerfield. Il is not an uncommon thing
for two hundred and fifty people, and aometimes many more,
to attend such lectures here.
Extract from a letter from him, dated Green Bay, October
21st, 1846 : —
"Dr. S. W. Williams: —
" Dear Sir, — As you have expressed a strong desire to
know whether the portrait of my grandsire (Rev. John WU
liams) can be obtained for the object you have in view, I have
to say that it will afford me peculiar pleasure lo aid you
in your laudable undertaking by pulling the same into your
hands. " I am, dear Sir, your affectionate kinsman,
"E. Williams."
In a letter to me of September 30th, 1847, dated at Buf
falo, he says : " In accordance to your request, I have this

APPENDIX AND NOTES. 179
day sent you a portrait of my grandfather Williams, taken in
daguerreotype. Although it is a correct or good representa
tion, says one, yet it is rather too faint." I received this por
trait too late to insert it in my genealogy of the Williams
family, and returned it to him soon after.
Now, on the 4th of July, 1849, eight years after the
astonishing communication of De JoinviUe that he waa the
lost Dauphin, the aon of Louis the Sixteenth, and after the
subject had been discussed in the public papers, he for the
first time communicates to rae doubts of hia origin and de
scent. He says, in a letter of that date : " As to my pedi
gree, I must confess at times I have been at a loss how to
dispose of it in my thoughts. I perceive there are raany and
various conjectures as to the real person who has been the
subject of such notice in the public prints. There are cer
tainly doubta and myatery exiating in relation to abme of
Thomas Williams's children. Among many others, I wUl
only mention one ; viz. it appears from the baptismal regis
ter, lately obtained from the Romish priest at Caughnawaga,
which waa accompanied by his affidavit, sworn before one of
her Majesty's justices of the peace, staling that to be a true
list of the names of the births of the children of Thomas Wil
liams (an Iroquois chief), and no such name as Eleazer is to
be found among them in the register. The intervals of the
births of the children, being nine in nuraber, are regular,
excepting two."
I understand that the Rev. Dr. Lothrop, of Boston, in liis
recent lecture delivered in that city, stated that he had pro
cured facts frora Canada, showing that the reason why the
name of Eleazer was oraitted in the baptismal register was
that he was born in the woods on a hunting excursion,
which frequently occupies many weeks.
Thua, then, from Eleazer's letiers to me, we see that he
never expressed a shadow of doubt of his direct lineal descent
from the Rev. John WUharas, first minister of Deerfield, tUl
the month of July, 1849, nor while giving me a genealogical
account of his family, to be published as matter of history.

180 APPENDIX AND NOTES.
De Joinville, through his former secretary, Aug. Tro-
gnon, in an able letter of February 9, 1853, published in the
April number of Putnam's Magazine, says, thai he met Mr.
Williams at Mackinaw in 1841, and had some conversation
with hira about the French and Indian wars. One great ob
ject of his visit to Mackinaw, Green Bay, and the Upper
Mississippi was " lo retrace the glorious path of the French,
who had first opened to civUization those fine countries."
While at Boston, he had probably learned that a person resid
ed al Green Bay, of part Indian descent, by the narae of Elea
zer Williams, who was preaching to the Indians there, had
a good many facts in relation to the subject of his inquiry,
and, in the journey and voyage thither, it was perfectly natu
ral for him to make inquiries concerning him on his route ; so
that nothing can be raade out from the subject of these inves
tigations to establish the fact of his seeking him out to com
municate to him the story of his being the son of Louis the
Sixteenth. Indeed, the Prince, in the letter of Trognon, ab
solutely disclaims and denies having had any conversation
with Eleazer upon that subject. He says, after having given
an account of his conference with him in relation to the
French wars : " But there ends all which the article contains
of truth concerning the relations of the Prince vvith Mr. WU
liams. AU the rest, all which treats of the revelation which
the Prince made to Mr. Williams concerning the pretended
personage of Louis the Seventeenth, is, from one end to the
other, a work of the imagination, a fable woven wholesale, a
speculation upon the public credulity."
There is an anachronism, loo, in the narrative of the Maga
zine, which has not been corrected there, which states that
De Liancourt, who travelled in the United States in the year
1795, visited Colonel Ephraim Williaras, the founder of WU
liams College, at Stockbridge, that year ; when the fact is,
that Colonel WUliams was kiUed near Lake George, at the
bloody morning scout, so oaUed, on the 8lh of September, ,
1755, forty years before.

APPENDIX AND NOTES. 181
The following notice of Eleazer WUliams, from the Chris
tian Inquirer of New York, of February 12th, 1853, views
the subject in the same light that I do, and is so just that I
cannot refrain from copying it.
" To THE Editors of the Christian Inquirer.
" Many of your readers will undoubtedly have been made
aware, through the February nuraber of Putnara's Monthly,
that Rev. Eleazer WUliams, missionary to the Onondaga In
dians, is no less a personage than Louis the Seventeenth of
France, son of Louis the Sixteenth and Marie Antoinette,
heir of Hugh Capet, St. Louis, Henry the Fourth, and Louis
the Fourteenth, of the French monarchy. It is not a little
unfortunate for this interesting romance, that the age ofthe
worthy gentleman in question does not better correspond with
the date of the Dauphin's birth. The French prince should
now be of the age of sixty-eight, whUe Mr. Williams has
been held to be not rauch over sixty. And though it is quite
possible that a healthy man of sixty-eight should appear seven
or eight years younger than he really is, il ia not so easy that
a man of twenty-eight should appear lo be but twenty, and
BtiU less easy for a youth of eighteen to go for a boy of ten.
Now Eleazer WiUiams has been known in Massachusetts
from his boyhood. As a boy, he lived with the Rev. Mr.
Ely, on the Connecticut, where sorae, we presume, remeraber
hira. Dr. Willard, of Deerfield, [probably the writer means
Dr. Williams, of Deerfield, as I have been acquainted with
him much longer than Dr. Willard has,] remembers seeing
him in other parts ofthe State when he was about the age of
twenty. He is descended (by repute at least) from Eunice,
daughter of the captive WUliams, and again, farther down,
from another captive family, of Marlborough, and is one
quarter Indian, as his physiognomy, it must be confessed,
pretty plainly shows. His journal is, indeed, a most re
markable specimen of evidence, and convinces us that it is
most unfortunate for this weak gentleman that the Prince de

182 APPENDIX AND NOTES.
JoinviUe made to him the astonishing disclosure. His head
is evidently turned, and the limits between fact and dream
have becorae to hira quite hazy. Our private opinion is,
the little politeness of the young Frenchman gave an exal
tation to his fancy which was not favora bleto his observing
nor to his reasoning powers. A wonderful history has been
spun out of very sraall materials. It must indeed have struck
even Dr. Hawks and Mr. Hanson as a little singular, that a
child treated for so long a time as brutally as the Dauphin
was, and reduced to idiocy and affected with scrofula, and
brought very dear to death, if he did not actually die, should
have survived transportation lo our backwoods, and turn out
a remarkably healthy man, carrying even to his age uncom
mon freshness and activity, with no traces whatever of those
prolonged cruelties except the scars which should prove
thera. It is certainly a wondrous inatance of the benefits of
a sea voyage and an out-door life.
" Mr. Williams has been very unfortunate in losing all the
documents on which his story is grounded. This loss, how
ever, is made up by accounts, industriously collected by the
Rev. Mr. Hanson, of many mysterious journeys of French
men into parts of the country where Mr. Williams was, some
of whora kissed hira when he was a boy, and others gave
him books for his Indians when he was a man. Louis Phi
lippe hiraself raade a journey down the Ohio and Mississippi
on his account. We think, however, that, in the present
stale of France, Mr. Williams had better cut off his poster
ity and take the royal estates. They would have been of
more value than his claim. M."
The Christian Register of February 26tb, 1853, published
at Boston, says: "The Rev. Dr. Lothrop of this city de
livered a lecture on Monday evening, before the Mercantile
Library Association, on the ' lost Dauphin,' in which he exam
ined the claims of tbe Rev. Eleazer Williams. The speaker
had known Mr. Williams for twelve years, visited him in

APPENDIX AND NOTES. 183
1845, at his residence in Wisconsin, and received two visits
from bim in Boston. In his opinion, there is not a particle of
evidence in Mr. W.'s favor, except what dependa upon his
' say so.' " The Tranacript, from which we take this state
ment, givea the following interesting report on one portion of
it; " It appears that Mr. Williaras carae to Boston with his
whole property, consisting of a considerable tract of land in
Wisconsin, 'encumbered by a bond and mortgage to the
amount of eighteen hundred dollars, which bond in the course
of trade had fallen into the hands of parties in this city who
could not grant a renewal of extension. In twenty-four hours
from the time these facts became known to Mr. Lothrop, he
was enabled, through the kindness of the late Amos Law
rence, to hand to Mr. Williams a check for the whole
amount, and to send him home with his bond in his posses
sion, redeemed and cancelled."
The following is an extract from a letter which I have re
cently received frora the late Governor Charles K. WUliams,
of Vermont. It was written about a fortnight before his
death. No man was better qualified to judge upon this sub
ject than Governor WiUiaras. He had lived quite near him
for a long period, in the early part of his life.
" Rutland, Vt., February 26th, 1853.
" Dr. Williams : —
"My dear Sir, — I was [much pleased to receive yours
of the 18th instant. 1 had noticed the articles in relation to
the Rev. Eleazer Williaras, and can only say, that I have
never had any doubt that he was of Indian extraction, and a
descendant of Eunice Williama. His father and mother were
both of them at my father's house, although I cannot ascer
tain definitively the year. I have known him for a long time,
saw him at Platlsburg in the year 1812, and before at my
father'a. Has been at my house three or four times within
the last two years. I have never conversed with him much
ou the subjec of his being the Dauphin, as he probably un-

184 APPENDIX AND NOTES.
derstood, from what I did say, that I had no faith at all in
his being any thing else than a descendant from Eunice.
Although I cannot fix upon any particular data, yet my im
pression is the same as yours, that he was born in 1790.
" Eleazer's mother is said to be alive, but, I believe, does
not favor his pretensions. I have the impression that the
family of Thoraas Williams reside in Caughnawaga, a village
near Montreal, and if there is any record of the baptism of
the famUy of Thomas WiUiaras, it wUl be found there. 1
hope lo see you in the course of the coraing spring and sum
mer, and will converse with you freely on the matter. I con
sider it all as a humbug, and that it will be exploded in the
course of a few months.
" With great respect, I remain
" Your friend and humble servant,
" Charles K. Williams."
Such is sorae of the evidence to show that the Dauphin, if
living, cannot be Eleazer WUliaras.
I shaU now endeavor to show, by direct and positive evi
dence, that the Dauphin actually died at the tirae pointed out
by the most veracious historians. The Dauphin.
Thiers, in his history of the French Revolution, speak
ing ofthe young prince, Louis the Seventeenth, son of Louis
the Sixteenth, says, that he died of a tumor ofthe knee aris
ing from a scrofulous complaint. The royalist agents assert
ed that he had been poisoned. Alison says : " The 9th Ther
midor carae loo late to save the unfortunate King of France,
Louis the Seventeenth. HisjaUei, Simon, was, indeed, be
headed, and a less cruel tyrant substituted in his place ; but
¦ the temper of the times would not, at first, admit of any
decided measures of indulgence in favor of the heir of the
throne. The barbarous treatment he had experienced from
Simon had alienated his reason, but not extinguished his

APPENDIX AND NOTES. 185
feelings of gratitude. On one occasion the inhuman wretch
had seized him by the hair, and threatened lo dash his head
against the wall ; the surgeon, Nautin, interfered to prevent
him, and the chUd next day presented him with two pears,
which had been given him for his supper the preceding even
ing, lamenting, at the same time, that he had no other means
of testifying his gratitude. Simon and Heber had put him to
the torture, to extract from him an avowal of crimes con
nected with his mother, which he was too young to under
stand. After that cruel day, he alraost always preserved
silence, lest his words should prove fatal to some of his rela
tions. This resolution and the closeness of his confinement
soon preyed upon hia health. In February, 1795, he was
aeized with a fever, and visited by three members of the
Committee of Public Safety ; they found him seated at a
little table, making castles of cards. They addressed to hira
words of kindness, but could not obtain an answer. In May
the state of hia health became ao alarming, that the celebrated
surgeon Desault was directed by tho Convention to visit him.
His generous attentions assuaged the aufferinga of the chUd's
latter days, but could not prolong his life."
Scott, in his Life of Napoleon Buonaparte, thus speaks of
the death ofthe Dauphin : — " The Dauphin we have already
described aa a promiaing child of seven years old, at which
no offence could have been given, and from which no danger
could have been apprehended. Nevertheless, it was resolved
to destroy the innocent child, and by means which to ordi
nary murders seem deeds of charity.
" The unhappy boy was put in charge of the most hard
hearted villain whom the coramunity of Paris, well acquainted
with where such agents were to be found, were able to select
from their band of Jacobins. The wretch, a shoemaker,
called Simon, asked bis' employers 'what was to be done
with the young wolf-whelp. Was he to be slain ? ' ' No.'
'Poisoned I ' ' No.' ' Starved to death ? ' ' No.' ' What
then 1 ' ' He was to be got rid of.' Accordingly, by a contin-
12

186 APPENDIX AND NOTES.
nance ofthe most severe treatment, — by beating, cold, vigils,
fasts, and ill usage of almost every kind, — so frail a blossom
was soon blighted. He died on the Sth of June, 1795."
The Debats, a French journal devoted to the interest ofthe
Orleans dynasty, in a memoir ofthe Duchesse d'Angouleme,
says that her brother, the Dauphin, expired in his prison on
the Sth of June, 1795. (See Littell's Living Age, Vol.
XXXI. p. 617.)
The Duchesse d'Angouleme further says, that, at the time
he died, three respectable surgeons of France, who saw him
at the tirae of his death, all testified to the fact of his having
died at that tirae.
The Encyclopaedia Americana, under tbe article Louis the
Seventeenth, by Eckbard, says unequivocally that Louis the
Dauphin died in 1795.
Abbott, in his History of Marie Antoinette, p. 316, speak
ing ofthe Dauphin, says : " The patient, inured to suffering,
with blighted hopes and a crushed heart, lingered in sUence
for a few days upon his bed, and died on the 9th of June,
1795, in the tenth year of his age."
Putnam's Magazine for March contains a notice of Beau.
chesne'a Life of Louis the Seventeenth, in two large vol
umes. He has gathered up all the particulars ofthe death of
the Dauphin from unquestionable authority, and he has no
possible doubt as lo his death al the time alluded to, June
9th, 1795. The following is an extract from hia Introduc
tion : —
" I have gone to the source of all facts already known ;
I have put myself in relation with all the living persons
whom chance or special duty admitted into the Temple during
the Revolution ; I have gathered a great deal of information,
and have corrected many errors. I have intimately known
Lasne and Gorain, the two last keepers of the Tower, and in
whose arms Louis the Seventeeth expired. I have not con
sulted traditions gathered by children from the lips of their
fathers, but the recollections of eyewitnesses, religiously

APPENDIX AND NOTES. 187
preserved in their memories and hearts. 1 am, then, able to
affirm, upon personal investigation, and with certainty, the
least circumstance ofthe events that I recount."
The notice of this book in Putnam's Magazine says : —
" Judging from the internal evidence, this is a perfectly
honest book. We have carefuUy read it through, and are
impressed with the spirit of truth and fidelity which appears
to breathe in all its pages. Beginning with the birth of the
Dauphin, it narratea each event of hia life with the affection
of a devotee, and the accuracy of a mathematician. The first
volume ends with the execution of the father, and the second
is almoat excluaively occupied with the incidents of his sep
aration from his mother, his subsequent imprisonment, and
death. Many of the facts related are new, and all of them
are marked with the most tragic and touching interest.
" On the 3d of July, 1793, Ihe Dauphin was committed to
the cruel care of Simon, the cobbler, and his wife, who con
tinued in charge of him, either one or the other being con
stantly in his presence, untU the 19th of January, 1794.
With regard to this period, M. Beauchesne gives the testi
mony of those women who were intimate with the wife of
Simon, and frequently saw her during her residence at the
Temple, as well before as after. Thus they gathered, day
by day, from her own lips, the narrative of the brutal treat
ment of the young prince. Their recollections, added to the
facts already notorious, render this chapter the raost interest
ing in the book. After Simon left, the Dauphin vvas im
mured in a dungeon, the door of which was nailed up, all
light being excluded, and his only communication with the
world was through an iron lattice, which was opened from
time to time to admit his food.
" In this ceU he remained tiU the 27lh of July following, a
little more than six months, when the downfall of Robe
spierre and the advent of the Directory brought a change in
his treatment. A raan named Laurent, a native of St. Do
mingo, was appointed by Barras keeper ofthe children ofthe

188 APPENDIX AND NOTES.
ex-king. A huraane and well-educated person, although an
ardent believer in the revolutionary idea of the lime, he was
filled with horror on discovering the state of the Dauphin.
He brought hira out ofthe pestUential dungeon, washed him,
dressed his sores, and caused him lo be provided with clothes.
When they entered the dungeon, the child, who was not
ten years old, was lying in a mass of rags, filth, and ver
min, and so reduced and broken, that he 'did not move, and
paid no attention to the many questions that were put to hira.
Finally, one of the deputies who was present, and who asked
him several limes why he had not eaten his dinner, which
stood untouched on the shelf of the lattice, drew from him
the reply, ' No ; I want lo die.' Frora this until his re
ported death, his keepers were comparatively kind, and did
all that they dared to render his life tolerable. On the 8lh of
November, Laurent received a colleague, Gomin, and on the
29lh of March, 1795, the forraer resigned his charge. Dur
ing this period the boy used often to play draughts with
Gomin, and to walk on the terrace of the Tower, until the
25lh of January, when his disease raade il necessary that he
should be removed. He had tumors at all his joints, refused
to raove, and could hardly be made to speak. StUl he under
stood every thing that was said to him, and on several occa
sions when alone with Gomin, whora he had learned to love,
showed, by gestures and expressions, that he knew who he
was, and remembered the father, mother, and sister whom
he was never to see more. Once, by his looks and raove-
raents, he asked Gorain to take him to his sister's prison,
which was in the same building, and when told that it was
impossible, said, ' I want to see her once more. 0, let me
see her again before I die, I pray you ! ' Gomin took hira by
the hand, and led him to a chair. The chUd fell upon his
bed in a fainting fit, and when he came to himself, burst into
loud weeping.
" When Laurent resigned, he waa succeeded by a house-
painter named Laane, who, with Gomin, remained until the

APPENDIX AND NOTES. 189
end. The new-comer took particular charg^ of the Dauphin,
while Gomin became the jailer of his sister.
" Lasne had often seen the young prince before his im
prisonment, and in his conversation with Beauchesne says,
' I recognized him perfectly. His head had not changed ; it
was still as beautiful as I had seen it in former tiraes ; but
his complexion was dead and colorless, his shoulders were
high, his breast hollow, his legs and arms thin and frail, and
large tumors covered hia right knee and left wrist.' Lasne
treated him with the greatest kindness, aud was not abaent
from him a single day. On the 6th of May, on the demand
of hia keepers, who represented that his life was in danger,
M. Desault, a physician, visited him, and recognized him as
the Dauphin. The boy refused lo take tbe medicine ordered
till the second day, when Lasne, telling him that be should
take it himself, and that he ought to save his friend from
such a necessity, the child said, ' You have determined, tben,
that 1 should take it ; well, give it to me and I will drink it.'
On the 3Ist of May, M. Bellanger, a painter, happened to be
the commissary on service for the day, and brought some
drawings to show the littie invalid. The latter looked at
them, finally replied to the questions ofthe artist, and sat for
his own portrait. At tbe interview with Bellanger, the child
gave signs of intelligence by word and look ; — and indeed
there seems to bave been no good reason for supposing that
he was ever idiotic ; an idea originating in his usual obsti
nate silence alone. But the very day before he died, he said
to Gomin, who told him of the arrest of a commissary wbo
had often been on duty at the Temple, ' I am very sorry, for
you see he is more unhappy than we ; he deserves his mis
fortune.' He died on tlie 9lh of June, at about two o'clock in
the afternoon. On the night previously he said to Gomin,
who expressed pity for his sufferings, ' Be consoled ; I shall
not always suffer.' Some tirae afterward, Gorain said to
him, ' 1 hope you do not suffer any pain now.' ' 0, yes,' was
the answer ; ' but much less, the music is -«o beautiful.' As

190 APPENDIX AND NOTES.
no music was audible, Gomin asked him, ' From what direc
tion do you hear music?' 'From up yonder.' Presentiy
the child exclaimed in ecstasy, ' Among all the voices I hear
that of ray mother! ' Next day, Lasne relieved Gorain from
his attendance at the bedside. After a time the child
moved, and Lasne asked him how he was;' to which he an
swered, ' Do you think my sister could have heard the mu
sic? How much good it would have done her ! ' Presently
he said, ' I have one thing to tell you.' Lasne bent to listen,
but the boy was dead.
" The second day after the decease the corpse was visited,
and its identity recognized by above twenty persons, of whom
five were ofiicers, and four commissioners on duty at the post.
The majority of those persons certified that they had seen the
Dauphin at the TuUleries or the Temple, and knew the dead
body lo be his. The physicians who made the post mortem
examination certify to a tumor on the inside of the right
knee, and another on the left wrist. These tumors had not
changed the external skin, but existed under it. After the
examination, the body was buried. We give the above ac
count without giving any further opinion on the question than
that Mr. Beauchesne is perfectly honest in his conclusions,
and that his witnesses will probably be viewed as trustworthy
by a great majority ofthe world."
Beauchesne further says : " Louis of France, the seventeenth
of that name, lived only ten years, two months, and two days."
His convictions, he says, of the Dauphin's death, have " the
character of a certomZi/ authentically demonstrated"; and he
further says, " A curse upon me, if my mind, in possession of
the truth, should suffer my pen lo lie."
The evidence, then, in relation to the death ofthe Dauphin,
in 1795, is as strong as any which can be found in history in
relation to the death of hia father, or of Marie Antoinette, his
mother, or of almost any other distinguished personage.
Equally strong and well-attested testimony must be brought

APPENDIX AND NOTES. 191
on the part of the disbelievers of his death, to destroy the
assertions of those historians. These cannot be destroyed by
the testimony of a single individual, or even by numbers, if
they are not equally well attested. They are sufficient to
invalidate the claim of Eleazer Williama to the throne of
France, and to prove that he is not the son of the late Louis
the Sixteenth.
The Paris correspondent of the New York Commercial
Advertiser sends the foUowing paragraph, which has an im
portant bearing on the romantic claims of the Rev. Eleazer
Williama to be regarded as the veritable son of Louis the
Sixteenth : —
" Mr. Putnam will receive by this steamer a very pithy
and conclusive document from M. de Chaumont, relative to
the use made of hia father's name in the famous Bourbon dis
covery. It ia not intended for publication. About twenty
distinct propoaitions are laid down, in the article on the al
leged Dauphin, concerning M. do Chaumont, senior, not one
of which is true, or anywhere near true. The errors in dates
are enormous. M. de Chaumont is slated to have arrived
in America in a certain year ; he did not arrive there, how
ever, till eleven years afterward. On his return to France he
is stated to have had an interview with Louis PhUippe, in ref
erence to the Louis the Seventeenth he had seen in the United
States. Now, M. de Chaumont never spoke to Louis Phi
lippe in the whole course of his life ! M. de Chaumont con
siders his father's name calumniated by the assertion that he
plotted with the Indians against the United Slates, and that
no contradiction of this calumny would be deemed by him too
formal or loo public."
Rev. George E, Day writes, in answer to an inquiry in
respect to his showing .Rev. Eleazer Williams a likeness of
Simon the jailer, as slated in Putnam's Magazine, that " the
statement needs some modification to be correct"; that on
seeing the portrait there waa no exclamation as alleged ; and,
" upon the whole, I felt then, and have always felt since, that

192 APPENDIX AND NOTES.
whatever evidence thia recognition might furnish must be
derived from the testimony of Mr. WUharas himself"
Much more might be written to contradict the articles fa
voring the Dauphin controversy, but it is not deemed neces
sary ; my object has been rather to prove that Mr. Williaras
was a descendant of Rev. John WUliams, author of " The
Redeemed Captive."

THE END.

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