Stedman and Hutchinson, comps. A Library of American Literature:
An Anthology in Eleven Volumes. 1891.
Vols. IX–XI: Literature of the Republic, Part IV., 1861–1889
The Siege of Brookfield
By Captain Thomas Wheeler (c. 1620–1686)T
When the messengers came to them, they made an alarm and gathered together about an hundred and fifty fighting men, as near as they could judge. The young men amongst them were stout in their speeches and surly in their carriage. But at length three of the chief Sachems promised to meet us on the next morning about eight of the clock, upon a plain within three miles of Brookfield, with which answer the messengers returned to us. Whereupon, though their speeches and carriage did much discourage divers of our company, yet we conceived that we had a clear call to go to meet them at the place whither they had promised to come. Accordingly we with our men accompanied with three of the principal inhabitants of that town marched to the plain appointed; but the treacherous Heathen intending mischief (if they could have opportunity) came not to the said place, and so failed our hopes of speaking with them there. Whereupon the said Captain Hutchinson and myself with the rest of our company considered what was best to be done, whether we should go any further towards them, or return, divers of us apprehending much danger in case we did proceed, because the Indians kept not promise there with us. But the three men who belonged to Brookfield were so strongly persuaded of their freedom from any ill intentions towards us (as upon other grounds, so especially because the greatest part of those Indians belonged to David, one of their chief Sachems, who was taken to be a great friend to the English), that the said Captain Hutchinson, who was principally instructed with the matter of treaty with them, was thereby encouraged to proceed and march forward towards a swamp where the Indians then were.
When we came near the said swamp, the way was so very bad that we could march only in a single file, there being a very rocky hill on the right hand and a thick swamp on the left, in which there were many of those cruel bloodthirsty Heathen, who there waylaid us, waiting an opportunity to cut us off; there being also much brush on the side of the said hill, where they lay in ambush to surprise us. When we had marched there about sixty or seventy rods, the said perfidious Indians sent out their shot upon us as a shower of hail, they being, as was supposed, about two hundred men or more. We seeing ourselves so beset, and not having room to fight, endeavored to fly for the safety of our lives. In which flight we were in no small danger to be all cut off, there being a very miry swamp before us, into which we could not enter with our horses to go forwards; and there being no safety in retreating the way we came, because many of our enemies, who lay behind the bushes and had let us pass by them quietly, when others had shot, they came out and stopt our way back;—so that we were forced as we could to get up the steep and rocky hill. But the greater our danger was, the greater was God’s mercy in the preservation of so many from sudden destruction. Myself being gone up part of the hill without any hurt, and perceiving some of my men to be fallen by the enemies’ shot, I wheeled about upon the Indians, not calling on my men who were left to accompany me, which they in all probability would have done had they known of my return upon the enemy. They firing violently out of the swamp, and from behind the bushes on the hillside, wounded me sorely and shot my horse under me, so that he faltering and falling, I was forced to leave him, divers of the Indians being then but a few rods distant from me. My son Thomas Wheeler flying with the rest of the company missed me amongst them, and fearing that I was either slain or much endangered, returned towards the swamp again, though he had then received a dangerous wound in the reins; where he saw me in the danger aforesaid. Whereupon he endeavored to rescue me, showing himself therein a loving and dutiful son, he adventuring himself into great peril of his life to help me in that distress; there being many of the enemies about him. My son set me on his own horse, and so escaped awhile on foot himself, until he caught an horse whose rider was slain, on which he mounted, and so through God’s great mercy we both escaped. But in this attempt for my deliverance he received another dangerous wound by their shot in his left arm.
There were then slain to our great grief eight men, viz.—Zechariah Philips of Boston, Timothy Farlow of Billericay, Edward Coleborn of Chelmsford, Samuel Smedly of Concord, Sydrach Hopgood of Sudbury, Sergeant Eyres, Sergeant Prichard, and Corporal Coy, the inhabitants of Brookfield aforesaid. It being the good pleasure of God that they should all there fall by their hands, of whose good intentions they were so confident, and whom they so little mistrusted. There were also then five persons wounded, viz., Captain Hutchinson, myself and my son Thomas as aforesaid, Corporal French of Billericay, who having killed an Indian was (as he was taking up his gun) shot, and part of one of his thumbs taken off, and also dangerously wounded through the body near the shoulder. The fifth was John Waldoe of Chelmsford, who was not so dangerously wounded as the rest. They also then killed five of our horses and wounded some more, which soon died after they came to Brookfield. Upon this sudden and unexpected blow given us (wherein we desire to look higher than man, the instrument) we returned to the town as fast as the badness of the way and the weakness of our wounded men would permit, we being then ten miles from it. All the while we were going we durst not stay to staunch the bleeding of our wounded men for fear the enemy should have surprised us again, which they attempted to do, and had in probability done, but that we perceiving which way they went, wheeled off to the other hand, and so by God’s good Providence towards us, they missed us; and we all came readily upon, and safely to the town, though none of us knew the way to it, those of the place being slain as aforesaid, and we avoiding any thick woods and riding in open places to prevent danger by them. Being got to the town we speedily betook ourselves to one of the largest and strongest houses therein, where we fortified ourselves in the best manner we could in such straits of time, and there resolved to keep garrison, though we were but few, and meanly fitted to make resistance against so many enemies. The news of the Indians’ treacherous dealing with us, and the loss of so many of our company thereby, did so amaze the inhabitants of the town, that they being informed thereof by us presently left their houses, divers of them carrying very little away with them, they being afraid of the Indians’ sudden coming upon them: and so came to the house we were entered into, very meanly provided of clothing, or furnished with provisions.
I perceiving myself to be disenabled for the discharge of the duties of my place by reason of the wound I had received, and apprehending that the enemy would soon come to spoil the town and assault us in the house, I appointed Simon Davis of Concord, James Richardson and John Fiske of Chelmsford to manage affairs for our safety with those few men whom God hath left us, and were fit for any service, and the inhabitants of the said town,—who did well and commendably perform the duties of the trust committed to them, with much courage and resolution, through the assistance of our gracious God, who did not leave us in our low and distressed state, but did mercifully appear for us in our greatest need, as in the sequel will clearly be manifested.
Within two hours after our coming to the said house, or less, the said Captain Hutchinson and myself posted away Ephraim Curtis of Sudbury and Henry Young of Concord to go to the honored Council at Boston to give them an account of the Lord’s dealings with us and our present condition. When they came to the further end of the town they saw the enemy rifling of houses which the inhabitants had forsaken. The post fired upon them and immediately returned to us again, they discerning no safety in going forward, and being desirous to inform us of the enemies’ actings, that we might the more prepare for a sudden assault by them. Which indeed presently followed, for as soon as the said post was come back to us, the barbarous Heathen pressed upon us in the house with great violence, sending in their shot amongst us like hail through the walls, and shouting as if they would have swallowed us up alive; but our good God wrought wonderfully for us, so that there was but one man wounded within the house, viz., the said Henry Young who, looking out at a garret window that evening, was mortally wounded by a shot, of which wound he died within two days after. There was the same day another man slain, but not in the house. A son of Sergeant Prichard’s, adventuring out of the house wherein we were to his father’s house not far from it, to fetch more goods out of it, was caught by those cruel enemies as they were coming towards us, who cut off his head, kicking it about like a foot-ball, and then putting it upon a pole, they set it up before the door of his father’s house, in our sight.
The night following the said blow, they did roar against us like so many wild bulls, sending in their shot amongst us till towards the moon-rising, which was about three of the clock; at which time they attempted to fire our house by hay and other combustible matter which they brought to one corner of the house and set it on fire. Whereupon some of our company were necessitated to expose themselves to very great danger to put it out. Simon Davis, one of the three appointed by myself as Captain, to supply my place by reason of my wounds as aforesaid, he, being of a lively spirit, encouraged the soldiers within the house to fire upon the Indians; and also those that adventured out to put out the fire (which began to rage and kindle upon the house side) with these and the like words, that “God is with us and fights for us, and will deliver us out of the hands of these Heathen,”—which expressions of his the Indians hearing, they shouted and scoffed, saying: “Now see how your God delivers you,” or “will deliver you,” sending in many shots whilst our men were putting out the fire. But the Lord of Hosts wrought very graciously for us, in preserving our bodies both within and without the house from their shot, and our house from being consumed by fire. We had but two men wounded in that attempt of theirs, but we apprehended that we killed divers of our enemies.
I being desirous to hasten intelligence to the honored Council of our present great distress, we being remote from any succor, it being between sixty and seventy miles from us to Boston, where the Council useth to sit, and fearing our ammunition would not last long to withstand them if they continued so to assault us, I spake to Ephraim Curtis to adventure forth again on that service, and to attempt it on foot, as the way wherein there was most hope of getting away undiscovered. He readily assented and accordingly went out, but there were so many Indians everywhere thereabouts, that he could not pass without apparent hazard of life, so he came back again. Yet towards morning the said Ephraim adventured forth the third time, and was fain to creep on his hands and knees for some space of ground, that he might not be discerned by the enemy, who waited to prevent our sending, if they could have hindered it. But through God’s mercy he escaped their hands and got safely to Marlborough, though very much spent and ready to faint by reason of want of sleep before he went from us and his sore travel night and day in that hot season till he got thither; from whence he went to Boston. Yet before the said Ephraim got to Marlborough, there was intelligence brought thither of the burning of some houses and killing some cattle at Quabaug by some who were going to Connecticut. But they seeing what was done at the end of the town, and hearing several guns shot off further within the town, they durst proceed no further, but immediately returned to Marlborough, though they then knew not what had befallen Captain Hutchinson and myself and company, nor of our being there. But that timely intelligence they gave before Ephraim Curtis his coming to Marlborough, occasioned the honored Major Willard’s turning his march towards Quabaug for our relief, who were in no small danger every hour of being, destroyed; the said Major being, when he had that intelligence, upon his march another way as he was ordered by the honored Council, as is afterwards more fully expressed.
The next day being August 3d they continued shooting and shouting, and proceeded in their former wickedness, blaspheming the name of the Lord and reproaching us, his afflicted servants, scoffing at our prayers as they were sending in their shot upon all quarters of the house. And many of them went to the town’s meeting-house, which was within twenty rods of the house in which we were, who mocked, saying: “Come and pray and sing psalms,” and in contempt made an hideous noise somewhat resembling singing. But we to our power did endeavor our own defence, sending our shot amongst them, the Lord giving us courage to resist them, and preserving us from the destruction they sought to bring upon us. On the evening following we saw our enemies carrying several of their dead or wounded men on their backs, who proceeded that night to send in their shot as they had done the night before, and also still shouted as if the day had been certainly theirs, and they should without fail have prevailed against us; which they might have the more hopes of in regard that we discerned the coming of new companies to them to assist and strengthen them, and the unlikelihood of any coming to our help.
They also used several stratagems to fire us, namely, by “wild fire” in cotton and linen rags with brimstone in them, which rags they tied to the piles of their arrows, sharp for the purpose, and shot them to the roof of our house, after they had set them on fire; which would have much endangered the burning thereof had we not used means, by cutting holes through the roof and otherwise, to beat the said arrows down, and God being pleased to prosper our endeavors therein. They carried more combustible matter, as flax and hay, to the sides of the house and set it on fire, and then flocked apace towards the door of the house, either to prevent our going forth to quench the fire as we had done before, or to kill our men in their attempt to go forth; or else to break into the house by the door. Whereupon we were forced to break down the wall of the house against the fire to put it out. They also shot a ball of “wild fire” into the garret of the house, which fell amongst a great heap of flax or tow therein; which one of our soldiers through God’s good Providence soon espied, and having water ready, presently quenched it. And so we were preserved by the Keeper of Israel, both our bodies from their shot, which they sent thick against us, and the house from being consumed to ashes, although we were but weak to defend ourselves; we being not above twenty and six men with those of that small town who were able for any service, and our enemies, as I judged them, about (if not above) three hundred. I speak of the least, for many there present did guess them to be four or five hundred. It is the more to be observed that so little hurt should be done by the enemies’ shot, it commonly piercing the walls of the house and flying amongst the people, and there being in the house fifty women and children besides the men before mentioned. But abroad in the yard one Thomas Wilson of that town, being sent to fetch water for our help in further need (that which we had being spent in putting out the fire), was shot by the enemy in the upper jaw and in the neck, the anguish of which wound was such at the first that he cried out with a great noise, by reason whereof the Indians hearing him rejoiced and triumphed at it. But his wound was healed in a short time, praised be God.
On Wednesday, August the fourth, the Indians fortified themselves at the meeting-house, and the barn belonging to our house, which they fortified both at the great doors at both ends with posts, rails, boards, and hay to save themselves from our shot. They also devised other stratagems to fire our house on the night following, namely, they took a cart, and filled it with flax, hay and candlewood, and other combustible matter, and set up planks fastened to the cart to save themselves from the danger of our shot. Another invention they had, to make the more sure work in burning the house: They got many poles of a considerable length and bigness and spliced them together at the ends one of another, and made a carriage of them about fourteen rods long, setting the poles in two rows with piles laid cross over them at the front end, and dividing them said poles about three foot asunder, and in the said front of this their carriage they set a barrel, having made an hole through both heads, and put an axle-tree through them, to which they fastened the said poles, and under every joint of the poles where they were spliced, they set up a pair of truckle wheels to bear up the said carriages; and they loaded the front or fore-end thereof with matter fit for firing, as hay, and flax, and chips, etc. Two of these instruments they prepared, that they might convey fire to the house with the more safety to themselves, they standing at such a distance from our shot whilst they wheeled them to the house. Great store of arrows they had also prepared to shoot fire upon the house that night; which we found after they were gone, they having left them there. But the Lord who is a present help in times of trouble, and is pleased to make his people’s extremity his opportunity, did graciously prevent them of effecting what they hoped they should have done by the aforesaid devices; partly by sending a shower of rain in season, whereby the matter prepared being wet would not so easily take fire as it otherwise would have done, and partly by aid coming to our help. For our danger would have been very great that night, had not the only wise God (blessed forever) been pleased to send to us about an hour within night the worshipful Major Willard, with Captain Parker of Groton and forty-six men more with five Indians, to relieve us in the low estate into which we were brought.
Our eyes were unto Him the Holy One of Israel; in Him we desired to place our trust, hoping that He would in the time of our great need appear for our deliverance, and confound all their plots by which they thought themselves most sure to prevail against us. And God who comforteth the afflicted, as He comforted the holy Apostle Paul by the coming of Titus to him, so He greatly comforted us, his distressed servants, both soldiers and town inhabitants, by the coming of the said honored Major and those with him. In whose so soon coming to us the good Providence of God did marvellously appear. For the help that came to us by the honored Council’s order, after the tidings they received by our post sent to them, came not to us till Saturday, August 7th, in the afternoon, nor sooner could it well come in regard of their distance from us, i.e., if we had not had help before that time, we see not how we could have held out, the number of the Indians so increasing, and they making so many assaults upon us, that our ammunition before that time would have been spent and ourselves disenabled for any resistance, we being but few, and always fain to stand upon our defence, that we had little time for refreshment of ourselves either by food or sleep. The said honorable Major’s coming to us so soon was thus occasioned: He had a commission from the honored Council (of which himself was one) to look after some Indians to the westward of Lancaster and Groton, where he himself lived, and to secure them, and was upon his march towards them on the aforesaid Wednesday in the morning, August 4th. When tidings coming to Marlborough by those that returned thither as they were going to Connecticut, concerning what they saw at Brookfield as aforesaid, some of Marlborough knowing of the said Major’s march from Lancaster that morning presently sent a post, to acquaint him with the information they had received. The Major was gone before the post came to Lancaster; but there was one speedily sent after him, who overtook him about five or six miles from the said town. He being acquainted that it was feared that Brookfield (a small town of about fifteen or sixteen families) was either destroyed or in great danger thereof, and conceiving it to require more speed to succor them (if they were not past help) than to proceed at present, as he before intended; and being also very desirous (if it were possible) to afford relief to them (he being then not above thirty miles from them), he immediately altered his course and marched with his company towards us; and came to us about an hour after it was dark, as above said; though he knew not then, neither of our being there nor of what had befallen us at the swamp and in the house those two days before.
The merciful Providence of God also appeared in preventing the danger that the honored Major and his company might have been in, when they came near to us; for those beastly men, our enemies, skilful to destroy, endeavored to prevent any help from coming to our relief, and therefore sent down sentinels (some nearer and some further off), the furthest about two miles from us, who if they saw any coming from the Bay they might give notice by an alarm. And there were about an hundred of them who for the most part kept at an house some little distance from us, by which, if any help came from the said Bay, they must pass, and so they intended (as we conceive) having notice by their sentinels of their approach to waylay them, and, if they could, to cut them off before they came to the house where we kept.
But as we probably guess, they were so intent and busy in preparing their instruments (as above said) for our destruction by fire that they were not at the house where they used to keep for the purpose aforesaid, and that they heard not their sentinels when they shot; and so the Major’s way was clear from danger till he came to our house. And that it was their purpose so to have fallen upon him, or any other coming to us at that house, is the more probable in that (as we have since had intelligence from some of the Indians themselves) there was a party of them at another place who let him pass by them without the least hurt or opposition, waiting for a blow to be given him at the said house, and then they themselves to fall upon them in the rear, as they intended to have done with us at the swamp, in case we had fled back, as is before expressed. The Major and company were no sooner come to the house, and understood (though at first they knew not they were English who were in the house, but thought they might be Indians, and therefore were ready to have shot at us, till we discerning they were English by the Major’s speaking, I caused the trumpet to be sounded) that the said Captain Hutchinson, myself and company, with the town’s inhabitants, were there, but the Indians also discerned that there were some come to our assistance; whereupon they spared not their shot, but poured it out on them. But through the Lord’s goodness, though they stood not far asunder one from another, they killed not one man, wounded only two of his company, and killed the Major’s son’s horse. After that we within the house perceived the Indians shooting so at them, we hastened the Major and all his company into the house as fast as we could, and their horses into a little yard before the house, where they wounded five other horses that night. After they were come into the house to us, the enemies continued their shooting some considerable time, so that we may well say, “Had not the Lord been on our side when these cruel Heathens rose up against us, they had then swallowed us up quick,” when their wrath was kindled against us. But wherein they dealt proudly, the Lord was above them.
When they saw their divers designs unsuccessful, and their hopes therein disappointed, they then fired the house and barn (wherein they had before kept to lie in wait to surprise any coming to us) that by the light thereof they might the better direct their shot at us; but no hurt was done thereby, praised be the Lord. And not long after they burnt the meeting-house wherein their fortifications were, as also the barn which belonged to our house, and so perceiving more strength come to our assistance, they did, as we suppose, despair of effecting any more mischief against us. And therefore the greatest part of them towards the breaking of the day, August the fifth, went away and left us, and we were quiet from any further molestations by them; and on that morning we went forth of the house without danger, and so daily afterward; only one man was wounded about two days after, as he went out to look after horses, by some few of them skulking thereabouts. We cannot tell how many of them we killed in all that time, but one that afterwards was taken confessed that there were killed and wounded about eighty men or more. Blessed be the Lord God of our Salvation who kept us from being all a prey to their teeth. But before they went away they burnt all the town except the house we kept in, and another that was not then finished. They also made great spoil of the cattle belonging to the inhabitants; and after our entrance into the house and during the time of our confinement there, they either killed or drove away almost all the horses of our company.
We continued there both well and wounded towards a fortnight, and August the thirteenth Captain Hutchinson and myself with the most of those that had escaped without hurt, and also some of the wounded, came from thence; my son Thomas and some other wounded men came not from thence, being not then able to endure travel so far as we were from the next town, till about a fortnight after. We came to Marlborough on August the fourteenth, where Captain Hutchinson being not recovered of his wound before his coming from Brookfield, and overtired with his long journey by reason of his weakness, quickly after grew worse and more dangerously ill, and on the nineteenth day of the said month died and was there the day after buried, the Lord being pleased to deny him a return to his own habitation and his near relations at Boston, though he was come the greatest part of his journey thitherward. The inhabitants of the town also not long after, men, women and children, removed safely with what they had left to several places, either where they had lived before their planting or sitting down there; or where they had relations to receive and entertain them. The honored Major Willard stayed at Brookfield some weeks after our coming away, there being several companies of soldiers sent up thither and to Hadley and the towns thereabouts, which are about thirty miles from Brookfield, whither also the Major went for a time upon the service of the country in the present war, and from whence, there being need of his presence for the ordering of matters concerning his own regiment and the safety of the towns belonging to it, he through God’s goodness and mercy returned in safety and health to his house and dear relations at Groton.
Thus I have endeavored to set down and declare both what the Lord did against us in the loss of several persons’ lives, and the wounding of others, some of which wounds were very painful in dressing, and long ere they were healed, besides many dangers that we were in, and fears that we were exercised with; and also what great things HE was pleased to do for us in frustrating their many attempts, and vouchsafing such a Deliverance to us.