Woman's Indian Captivity; or Poor Mary, Poor Poor MaryT

Oh the guilt!

It was this guilt, not unlike Hawthorne's guilt from his Puritan ancestry, that shaded our class Tuesday morning. "We Shall Remain," a very well put together documentary chronicling the arrival of the Plymouth settlement by the Puritan, and the very first relations with the Native American, this film exposes the two-faced nature of the Pilgrim.

Although the very first settlers are receptive, albeit nervous as young xenophobia develops quickly in the new nation, there is a tense alliance made between the Wampanoag leader Massasoit and Massachusetts governor Edward Windslow. These two men, both pioneers in acceptance and their America, share a close and strong relationship of learning and sharing: a sort of give and take into each culture. However, we learn tragically this bond is not strong enough to last future generations.

After Windslow passes, the Pilgrim's presence in New England rapidly outnumbers the presence of the Indian Tribes, and soon begins the first Native American genocide done by the Europeans.

Massasoit's son, both Metacomet and Philips as perhaps an example of the faux-strength Massasoit saw in the Wampanoag/Pilgrim relations, eventually will be forced to wage war against the second and third generation of European.

This war, which ultimately fails earns the name "King Philip's War," rages for one year and results in the loss of 15% of New England's Native population. This war will leave fear in the hearts of the settlers, and perhaps prepare generations to come for warfare (maybe against England....only history will tell.)

However, this war will also effect the popular culture of New England; enter Mary Rowlandson's detailed literary account on the strength in times of captivity. Her tale, although completely detailed remains a harrowing portrait of the cruelty the Native American were forced to use during the war.

Mary Rowlandson: colonial woman, mother, wife, prisoner of eleven weeks under Indian captivity. Within the pages of "The Sovereignty and Goodness of God," Rowlandson in an almost passive and journalistic fashion retells the events leading up to and the context of her capture.

"It was a solemn sight to see so many Christians lying in their blood, some here and some there, like a company of sheep torn by wolves." Not only is this one of my favorite quotes from the narrative, but it also is a strong assertion from Rowlandson. Amazingly, she is able to recount the death of her youngest daughter, Sarah, the sacking of her village and home, and yet she is able to endure and STILL have her faith guiding her. She is not in hysterics, she is simply stating that even the best shepard will not prevent every wolf, and that by their faith, the rest of the flock, including herself, will be delivered into safety.

She possesses her time reading and closely studying the bible, soul searching for some rationality behind the status of her capture. She resolves, that after the brutal stay with the Indian, that "I have learned to look beyond present and smaller troubles and to be quieted under them, as Moses said stand still and see the salvation of the Lord."

Sort of a happy ending to both a disturbing and, sorry Mary, slightly boring narrative.

I wonder, dear readers, what if any value this publication had on two fronts:

(1) How greatly does this book inform readers in modern time of the cultures of the Indian and the Pilgrim?

(2) And how greatly does this book affect readers? I'm talking about generating racism, xenophobia felt towards the Indian? Can we rationalize her captivity for what happened to the

Wampanoag and other New England Indian tribes, or does Rowlandson's book simply paint them in a savage, terrorist like light?

I mean, we did pillage, murder and steal their land....