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Narrative of the Captivity and Restoration of Mrs. Mary Rowlandson by Mary White Rowlandson
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gone (at least separated from me, he being in the Bay; and to
add to my grief, the Indians told me they would kill him as he
came homeward), my children gone, my relations and friends gone,
our house and home and all our comforts--within door and
without--all was gone (except my life), and I knew not but the
next moment that might go too. There remained nothing to me but
one poor wounded babe, and it seemed at present worse than death
that it was in such a pitiful condition, bespeaking compassion,
and I had no refreshing for it, nor suitable things to revive
it. Little do many think what is the savageness and brutishness
of this barbarous enemy, Ay, even those that seem to profess
more than others among them, when the English have fallen into
their hands.

Those seven that were killed at Lancaster the summer before upon
a Sabbath day, and the one that was afterward killed upon a
weekday, were slain and mangled in a barbarous manner, by
one-eyed John, and Marlborough's Praying Indians, which Capt.
Mosely brought to Boston, as the Indians told me.


The Second Remove

But now, the next morning, I must turn my back upon the town,
and travel with them into the vast and desolate wilderness, I
knew not whither. It is not my tongue, or pen, can express the
sorrows of my heart, and bitterness of my spirit that I had at
this departure: but God was with me in a wonderful manner,
carrying me along, and bearing up my spirit, that it did not
quite fail. One of the Indians carried my poor wounded babe
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