The Matron and the Minister: Duality of Voice in Mary Rowlandson's Captivity Narrative

By Kathleen J. Canavan



In reading the incredibly moving text of The Sovereignty and Goodness of God, a detailed narrative of Mary Rowlandson's eleven week captivity among Narragansett Indians, one cannot help but become aware of the presence of two distinct and alternating narrative voices throughout the body of the text. In fact, numerous scholars have taken pause to make note of this undeniable shift in voice within their critical reflections of Rowlandson's narrative. David Minter describes a "curious and double present-mindedness" that exists in the text, explaining that on one hand Rowlandson is attempting to use her experience as a lesson for those who walk a troubled path away from salvation, while on the other hand she is using the act of writing about her experience to mark her own place as one of the Elect declared in a long line of Puritan conversion narratives.1 Kathryn Zabelle Derounian discusses an empirical and rhetorical narration within the text-empirical defining the author's role as participant and rhetorical defining Rowlandson's role as interpreter and commentator. "The split in Rowlandson's narrative between the participant and the commentator voices is very clear," Zabelle Derounian states.2 These two voices, Zabelle Derounian further argues, are a result of Rowlandson having suffered from a mental disorder today known as survivor syndrome where she tries to reconcile her feelings of guilt over having survived the Indian attack on Lancaster and her subsequent captivity with her obligation to paint her experience in the hues of providential affliction.3 Furthermore, David Downing notes that:
 
 

Rowlandson generally recounts the events of her captivity in a vigorous and homely style, combining close observation with simple, direct expression. However, when she pauses to consider the significance of a particular detail, her style becomes more elevated as she employs biblical quotations and metaphors to convey her meaning.4
Downing goes on to say that "this variation of style recurs throughout the narrative."5 And in yet another observation of the duality of Rowlandson's text, Deborah Dietrich points to Rowlandson's "method of oscillating between involvement and more distanced observation."6 This device, Dietrich continues, creates a sense of immediacy and allows the reader to relate to the author while at the same time creating a figure who has walked through the fire and lived to tell about it and teach from it.

The combative nature of these two voices creates a very clear and uneasy tension that permeates Rowlandson's captivity narrative. For example, throughout most of the text, Rowlandson is cast as the Christian woman lost in the unknown wilderness among a savage people and wholly unsure of her surroundings. At one point of the narrative, Rowlandson recounts her multiple experiences of sitting in her captors' wigwams at different times throughout her captivity and completely forgetting where she is before jumping up and running outside:

 

"...when I was without, and saw nothing but Wilderness and Woods, and a company of barbarous Heathen; my mind quickly returned to me, which made me think of that spoken concerning Sampson, who said, I will go out and shake myself as at other times, but he wist not that the Lord was departed from him.7

At yet another point in the text, Rowlandson states, "My son being now about a mile from me,...away I went; but quickly lost myself travelling over Hills and through Swamps, and could not find my way to him."8 However, despite these allusions to being lost in the wilderness, Rowlandson in reality seems always to know her geographic location throughout the course of her captivity. At one point in the Third Remove, Rowlandson writes, "This day in the afternoon, about an hour by the Sun, we came to the place where they intended, viz. an Indian town called Wenimesset, Northward of Quabaug."9 Later in the remove, we learn Rowlandson is "near thirty miles from any English Town."10 Still further into the text, Rowlandson notes, "We were at this place and time about two miles from the Connecticut river."11 In fact, when Rowlandson loses her way when going to visit her son, who also is being held captive by another group of Indians, she appears to have no trouble finding her way back to her own camp in order to then have someone show her the way to her son's residence. In addition to apparently knowing where she is on any given day, Rowlandson also seems capable of keeping track of which day it is. At several points throughout the narrative, she makes note of her captors' activities on the Sabbath. It wouldn't seem unlikely that a person held hostage in a completely alien environment for nearly three months could easily lose track of the days of the week; however, that doesn't seem to be a problem Rowlandson suffered. Instead of presenting her as the poor soul who has lost her way, these assertions of place and time instead cast Rowlandson in a decidedly resourceful light by showing us a woman capable of orienting herself spatially and temporally.

Another point of disjunction between the two voices at work in the narrative revolve around the use of scripture in the text. Rowlandson would appear to be the very figure of piety in sections where scripture is quoted and she is cast as the pilgrim who, but for the grace of God, would long ago have perished without His word to guide her. In a passage representative of other scripture citations throughout the text, Rowlandson states:

 

Then I took oaken leaves and laid to my side, and with the blessing of God it cured me also; yet before the cure was wrought, I may say as it is in Psal. xxxviii. 5, 6, My wounds stink and are corrupt, I am troubled, I am bowed down greatly, I go mourning all the day long.12

Here, God is attributed with curing Rowlandson of her injury rather than the oak leaves, which evidently posses some sort of medicinal property. Even more so, God is attributed with the cure rather the captive who tells Rowlandson that oak leaves cured his wound, or even rather than Rowlandson herself who has the mental wherewithal to use the leaves on herself despite being consumed by concern for the health of her wounded child. In effect, God is responsible for everything, and scripture serves as a reminder for Rowlandson that her fate is in His hands. Everywhere there are evidences of God's providence for His chosen, who need only wait patiently and suffer nobly to receive deliverance. However, when contrasted against passages of the narrative where Rowlandson barters her services for food and money and actively navigates through her captors' society, we get the image of a woman quite self-reliant and capable of surviving hardships in her own right. For instance, Mary makes a shirt for King Philip's son, for which she is paid one shilling.13 At another point, not only does she make a shirt for an Indian but she also harasses him until he makes proper restitution for her labor with the payment of a knife.14

While conflicts in voice are readily apparent throughout the text and many scholars seem quite comfortable highlighting the dueling voices that characterize Rowlandson's narrative, very few seem to question the source of these competing voices. There appears to be an implicit acceptance among those same scholars that the two voices are Rowlandson's own. "Nearly a third of all Rowlandson's references are from Psalms, as apparently she found (emphasis mine) in the Psalmist the most eloquent spokesman of her personal grief and despair..." Downing notes, and in so doing grants Rowlandson authority over selection of scripture in her text.15 This despite the fact Downing comments on the shift in narrative voice when scriptures are mentioned in the text. Likewise, Zabelle Derounian states, "Throughout, Rowlandson's narrative contains references revealing its author's depression and emotional bleakness, but frequently Rowlandson masks these signs with outward spiritual interpretations."16 Again, Rowlandson is assumed to be the sole narrative voice at work in the text, despite an acknowledged "dichotomy between the voice telling the narrative details and the voice interpreting them."17

When viewed in light of the significant historical data that suggest Puritan minister Increase Mather may have played a substantial role in editing and shaping Rowlandson's text before it went to press, however, it becomes more problematic to make critical interpretations of the narrative without accounting for the potential of Mather's voice being one of the two.18 In fact, there is little doubt among historians and literary theorists that Increase Mather is the anonymous author of the preface to the reader that introduces and provides testimony for Rowlandson's text. At the very least, the historical data raise enough red flags that should lead the discerning reader to view the narrative as an amalgamation of authorial control between Mather and Rowlandson, if not indeed a reflection of two separate voices representative of two separate writers. What's more, in light of the severe limitations placed on women's public speech and writing at the time, it seems questionable to think that a written work as powerful as Rowlandson's narrative would have been offered up for public consumption without first being strained through the filter of the Puritan ministry.

An examination of the historical clues certainly indicate that, if nothing else, the publication of Rowlandson's narrative most definitely would have been of significant interest to Mather. One of the leading second-generation Puritan ministers in New England, Mather strongly believed King Philip's War was a divine punishment meted out by God in response to the waning religious devotion of next-generation Puritans and their increasing attention to material gain.19 Mather was particularly interested in the overall significance of Indian/English relations as they pertained-in his eyes-to God's dispensations to his chosen people, and he very vigorously worked the image of the redeemed captive as a metaphor for the entire Puritan community.20 Mather had a great deal to gain from the wide-spread distribution of Rowlandson's tale of captivity and deliverance.

At the time of King Philip's War, Mather was emerging as a powerful theological and political leader in New England, jockeying for the position as king of the city on the hill with William Hubbard.21 For the two ministers, the war presented numerous opportunities for conflict over how best to bring it to a successful close.22 Unlike Mather, Hubbard did not think that the war was some kind of Armageddon. In fact, Hubbard felt that those who accepted unreservedly that the war was the manifestation of God's anger with the Puritans and that nothing could be done were shirking their responsibility as leaders of New England.23 With this rivalry in mind, Nelsen notes that Mather hurried to write and publish his Brief History of the Warr With the Indians in New-England (in which Mather includes an account of Mary Rowlandson's captivity and release) before Hubbard could publish his own history, implying that the race was on to be the first to provide the besieged Puritans with a theoretical framework within which to understand the war. For Mather, "the events of the war had to be read comprehensively, for their significance would have bearing on matters ranging from the microscopic polity of the family to the organization of the cosmos under God."24 Slotkin and Folsom further contend that through the work of writing his Brief History and then later a second history of the war, A Relation of the Troubles Which Have Hapened in New-England, Mather was attempting to create a new "mythology" of Indian-Puritan relations, which cast the Indians as a symbol of punishment for the Puritans' failure to adhere to orthodox doctrine.

The story of Mary Rowlandson fit in very nicely with this new mythology. She was a minister's wife who, despite her already obviously close connection to God, was called upon to suffer terrible hardship by His hand and comes truly to know Him. What better example could possibly exist to show New England Puritans the consequence of their folly and the way to true salvation? Mitchell Breitwieser observes:
 
 

For Mather, the utility of Rowlandson's narrative lay in the assistance it supplied for this task of application (of bringing his tenets of Puritan ideology to bear on individual experience): she affirmed that the meaning that Mather sought to establish could illuminate experience...to a level of unsurpassable specificity.25
And given Mather's desire to reweave the torn fabric of Puritan religious and political life,26 it doesn't seem a large leap to imagine he would take an active, supervisory role in ensuring that the Puritan congregation clearly understood the message of Rowlandson's experience. In fact, Slotkin and Folsom note, "Increase Mather saw in [Mary Rowlandson's] deliverance a sign that God was at last consenting to harken to the prayers of his people."27 What's more, the opportunity to encourage and shape production of Rowlandson's narrative did exist. Mather and the Rowlandsons knew each other well, and Mather at one point helped facilitate Joseph Rowlandson's efforts to reclaim his family from their Indian captors.28 In addition, Mather probably enjoyed a significant influence at the Boston press where Rowlandson's narrative was published due to the publication of several of his own works there.29 Of course, Mather's opportunity of access and influence do not necessarily translate into a hands-on involvement with the narrative. But the curious shifts in narrative voice that punctuate Rowlandson's text echo the tenets of Mather's religious agenda for New England.

The problems of voice that mark Rowlandson's narrative have parallels within the body of literature on slave narratives and collaborative women's autobiography, and this scholarship provides a theoretical framework within which to consider The Sovereignty and Goodness of God. In his discussion of narration, authentication and authorial control in slave narratives, Robert B. Stepto contends that the narratives "are full of other voices which are frequently just as responsible for articulating a narrative's tale and strategy."30 Stepto goes on to explain most of these "voices" appear in the form of introductions and appendices attached to slave narratives that vouched for the legitimacy and authenticity of the written narrative, as well as the existence and reliability of the former slave who wrote the text. Stepto states:
 
 

These documents-and voices-may not always be smoothly integrated with the former slave's tale, but they are nevertheless parts of the narrative. Their primary function is, of course, to authenticate the former slave's account; in doing so, they are at least partially responsible for the narrative's acceptance as historical evidence.31
Stepto argues that the text's narrative voice constitutes all the authors-the former slave, the editors, the slave's white friends and guarantors-who contributed to the final, whole written work. The narrative cannot be viewed as belonging only to the authoring slave because his voice is intrinsically bound to the numerous other voices granting him credibility. The slave is a choir member, but it is the entire chorus we actually hear, making the individual voice all but indistinguishable.

When looking at Rowlandson's narrative, the validating techniques used in slave narratives are identical to those at play in her text. An anonymous introduction most likely written by Increase Mather accompanied Rowlandson's tale when it was first published in 1682. The introduction is an entreaty to the reader to pay close heed to the terrible events visited upon this Handmaiden of God so that he or she might learn from her experience. However, and more importantly, the introduction also serves as validation for the story being told in the first place. After Anne Hutchinson very publicly claimed numerous Puritan ministers relied too heavily on a doctrine of good works in assessing experiences of grace among church members and declared that God had revealed to her the assurance of her own salvation, most Puritan women were denied the freedom to speak publicly in any capacity.32 In order for Rowlandson to relate her story and be acknowledged by the desired Puritan readership, her act of public "speaking" had to be made palatable. Through the work of his introduction, Mather sets forth to accomplish that task by straightforwardly telling the reader that they should not be repelled by Rowlandson's act of writing, but should instead be inspired. Mather further asserts that Rowlandson is a true and pious Christian woman who would never seek the limelight for herself, but recounts her story at the insistence of her friends and for the benefit of the Puritan community:

 

This Narrative was Penned by this Gentlewoman her self, to be to her a Memorandum of God's dealing with her, that she might never forget, but remember the same, and the several circumstances thereof, all the daies of her life. A pious scope, which deserves both commendation and imitation. 33

Furthermore, Mather tells the reader that if after reading the narrative they are unable to ascertain the importance of Rowlandson's tale, it is they who should be ashamed for failing to grasp the truth of God's word rather than Rowlandson for speaking it.34 The entire effect, of course, is to suggest that in this particular instance, Rowlandson is justified in publishing her account because it is such a remarkable example of God's providence that to not publish, to not grant Rowlandson her "voice," would be the greater sin.

To bestow even more validity upon Rowlandson's act of public expression, the first edition of The Sovereignty and Goodness of God was published with the last sermon of Joseph Rowlandson (Mary's first husband). It was a common practice in New England at the time to posthumously publish the last sermon of well-known ministers.35 So to further dilute the impact of a woman writing, this convention is utilized to present Rowlandson's narrative in a more favorable light. Salisbury describes Joseph's sermon as a typical jeremiad that chastised New Englanders for faltering spirituality. In addition, Salisbury calls the sermon a "long theological footnote to the narrative" that reflected similar themes of punishment and redemption advocated in the narrative.36 What is strangely interesting about Joseph Rowlandson's text being attached to his wife's text is that had it not been for Mary Rowlandson's narrative, Joseph's sermon probably never would have been published on its own because, in fact, his fame derived from his wife's.37 However, the fact that Rowlandson's narrative had to be published with Mather's introduction and her husband's sermon indicates the text could not stand on its own in the eyes of Puritan society. Rowlandson's own unadulterated voice was wholly unacceptable and unrecognizable for the time; it simply was not allowed to be. In much the same way as the slave narratives described by Stepto, Mary Rowlandson's voice could only be heard in conjunction with the supporting voices of Mather and her husband.

Highlighting a similar point of collective narrative voice and authorial control, Carole Boyce Davies states in her discussion of writing women's oral autobiography that editorial involvement cannot be dismissed when considering the authenticity of a literary voice. "Once the editorial process is closely scrutinized," Davies writes, "it reveals how the editor becomes a co-maker of the text. The phrases 'I edited,' 'I arranged,' and 'selected' camouflage a whole host of detailed ordering and creating operations."38 Although Davies is making her point in the context of a female editor who records or transcribes another woman's story and then writes the narrative herself, the point of the editor functioning as a "co-maker" of narrative voice applies equally well to a situation such as Rowlandson's where the "protagonist" (most likely) writes her own story, but is later edited by another person before publication. Through the very acts of deleting or adding or rearranging or polishing an author's original text, the editor necessarily introduces his or her own sensibility and voice to the finished piece. At that point of intervention, Davies explains, the narrative ceases to present an autobiographical "I," but rather reflects an autobiographical "we."39 As with the slave narratives, giving voice to these silenced or disenfranchised women can only be accomplished through external mediation and manipulation that validates their life experience and consequently requires that the pure "I" be relinquished.

In her discussion of the cultural significance of the captivity figure to Puritan society, Tara Fitzpatrick includes as a matter of course the assumption that Puritan captivity narratives included the voice of the former captive and their sponsoring minister:

By explicating the relations between the dual, sometimes dueling textual voices of the captives and their ministerial sponsors, we find that Puritan women's captivity sagas generally relied on two narrators: the redeemed captives themselves and the ministers who propagated the captives' histories for didactic purposes of their own.40

Fitzpatrick additionally contends there is nothing accidental about the formulation of the Puritan captivity narrative. "Captivity narratives, properly edited and prefaced, would instruct prospective settlers about the horrors they might encounter as punishment for their restlessness and inconstancy," she states.41

Several clues point to Mather's voice constituting part of the narrative "we" that exists in The Sovereignty and Goodness of God. In his discussion of Mary Rowlandson's use of scripture in her narrative, Downing acknowledges that the practice of incorporating biblical references was commonplace among Puritan writing. What is odd about Rowlandson's use though, he explains, is her heavy reliance upon Old Testament verse. "Of her numerous Biblical references, fewer than one tenth are from the New Testament; in fact, the name of Jesus Christ is never directly mentioned in her account," Downing observes, further stating that "this peculiar paucity of New Testament references is due primarily to the conscious identification of the New England Puritans with the Old Testament Hebrews."42 Specific instances of this occur when comparisons are made between Rowlandson's experiences and Job. For instance, when Rowlandson recounts snatching a piece of boiled horse's foot from a starving English child also being held captive, which she hurriedly consumes and calls savory, the narrative says of the meat: "That I may say as Job, chap. vi. 7. The things that my Soul refused to touch are as my sorrowful meat."43 Slotkin and Folsom explain that Mather relied significantly upon Old Testament history and philosophy in the formulation of his typological historiography because:
 
 

...typological readings of the Old Testament find in the collective experience of the Hebrews and in the lives of individual heroes, saints, and prophets prefigurations of the first coming of Christ.44

I would contend the heavy use of Old Testament scripture in the Rowlandson narrative is indicative of Mather's influence on the text and an attempt on his part to fashion Rowlandson's experience as divine verification of his own ideology at the time.

Further evidence of some startling theoretical similarities between Rowlandson's text and Mather's ideological tenets can be found in Slotkin and Folsom's assertion that the captivity narrative and Mather's mythology of suffering and redemption are "built on the same mythic pattern."45 Specifically, they note, the progress of Rowlandson's tale and Mather's mythology revolve around "the interaction between sovereign God and the individual soul, the association of the outer Indian with 'Indian' traits of spirit in the Christian, the salvationary exorcism of both Indians by means of providential rescue, and the final renewing of the covenant between individual and God, citizen and society."46 Of course, the entire narrative is a dialogue on the interaction between sovereign God and individual soul; however, specific instances of that interaction are revealed through the use of scripture, which provides a divine explanation for individual moments of suffering for Rowlandson. The scripture readings constitute God's contribution to the ongoing "conversation" between He and Rowlandson in the narrative. Rowlandson may have a tough path to walk, but ultimately God is telling her it's all for a greater good: "For a small moment have I forsaken thee; but with great mercies will I gather thee."47 Additional reflections of the "mythic pattern," occur when Mary seems to become Indian- or savage-like at various times during her captivity, as with the incident of taking food from a child or when in the Twelfth Remove she actually uses an Indian word, Nux, when relating if she will be sold back to her husband.48 Then upon Rowlandson's release, we learn she had the opportunity to escape her captors at some point earlier in her captivity when an Indian couple offered to help her run away and that she refused them, choosing to stay put and let God choose when she was fully redeemed and ready to be released:
 
 
In my Travels an Indian came to me, and told me, if I were willing, he and his Squaw would run away, and go home along with me. I told him, No, I was not willing to run away, but desired to wait God's time, that I might go home quietly, and without fear. And now God hath granted me my desire.49

Her complete supplication to God is what saves her in the end.

Mather's handiwork in the Rowlandson text also is evident in the ordering of events in the narrative. Douglas Edward Leach notes that upon a close reading of The Sovereignty and Goodness of God, the perceptive reader is struck by the organizational confusion of the story. Rowlandson "is often vague in defining periods of time, geographical locations, and sequence of events," Leach writes.50 As mentioned above, this ambiguity of the "whens" in Rowlandson's narrative is particularly disconcerting when contrasted against her apparent ability to state with a great degree of confidence what day of the week certain events occurred or where in the wilderness she is located. However, when considering that Mather readily reordered the events of King Philip's War in his own histories so that they closely followed his interpretation of God's judgment and punishment, it does not seem unreasonable to assume Mather did the same when editing Rowlandson's narrative so that her experience would mirror the rhetoric he was preaching at the time.51 "This distortion," Slotkin and Folsom write, "of course suits Mather's intention, which is to restore a religious world view, a God-centered consciousness of historical process, and a sense of man's powerlessness and absolute dependence on the will of an almighty God."52

With these examples of close mirroring between Rowlandson's narrative and Mather's philosophy, it seems somewhat far-fetched to attribute the occurrence of such parallels to mere coincidence. What these similarities strongly suggest is an intentionality of purpose on the part of Increase Mather to align Mary Rowlandson and her experience with his concept of struggle and redemption. While it is not my intention to propose that Mary Rowlandson's voice is nonexistent in the narrative, I do believe it has been significantly muted by Mather for the benefit of his own agenda. Of course, this intrusion of Mather's voice into Rowlandson's narrative presents some substantial problems for numerous past critical interpretations of The Sovereignty and Goodness of God that take for granted Rowlandson's voice as pure within the body of the text. The failure to account for more than one distinct voice in the narrative invalidates many scholarly readings of the text. For example, Downing writes, "By admitting her spiritual complacency and recognizing the need for repentance, Rowlandson re-enacts her conversion experience."53 However, once we introduce the specter of Mather's manipulation, it becomes nearly impossible to know whether or not Rowlandson strives to re-enact her conversion experience, which implies an act of personal self-reflection, or whether Mather strives to simply cast Rowlandson as empathetic protagonist. Similarly, in her discussion of the "place" of the woman subject in Rowlandson's narrative, Lisa Logan asserts, "Rowlandson's narrative expresses her ambivalence about those representations of women and their experience which are available to her."54 This becomes an incredibly problematic statement to make, let alone prove, when so much ambiguity surrounds who expresses what in the body of the text. The presence of this uncertainty throws a very large wrench into the mechanics of any argument that relies on an untainted intellectual blackboard for Mary Rowlandson to write upon. Even Zabelle Derounian's argument that Rowlandson suffered from survivor syndrome becomes suspect in light of the duality of voice at play in the text.

While the certainty of the authenticity of Mary Rowlandson's own voice within the narrative should be viewed with considerable caution, it does not detract from the text's ability to wield considerable emotional power over the reader. In fact, an acknowledgment of the duality of voice in the text makes the task of interpretation more interesting than it would be with the assumption of just one voice. Buried beneath the surface of the story told on the page lies another compelling tale of human conflict and struggle and domination and submission. As with her captivity and release, Mary Rowlandson must subvert herself for the sake of finding her place among history's chosen this time. Her salvation in print is as dependent on the will of an external being as the salvation of her soul is dependent on God. To attribute autonomy to Rowlandson's voice in the narrative ultimately does a disservice to her because it pulls a veil across the face of her life and the controlling forces-husband, church and Mather-that most likely defined that life. The Sovereignty and Goodness of God should not be read as a testament to the saving power of Grace or a celebration of the human spirit in the face of hardship but as a commentary on the societal bonds that held Mary Rowlandson captive, even after her release.


Endnotes



1 David Minter, "By Dens of Lions: Notes on Stylization in Early Puritan Captivity Narratives," American Literature 45 (1973-74): 341.

2 Kathryn Zabelle Derounian, "Puritan Orthodoxy and the 'Survivor Syndrome' in Mary Rowlandson's Indian Captivity Narrative," Early American Literature 22 (1987): 82.

3 Zabelle Derounian, 83.

4 David Downing, "'Streams of Scripture Comfort': Mary Rowlandson's Typological Use of the Bible," Early American Literature 15 (1980-81): 252.

5 Downing, 252.

6 Deborah J. Dietrich, "Mary Rowlandson's Great Declension," Women's Studies 24:5 (1995): 427.

7 Unless otherwise stated, references to Mary Rowlandson's narrative pertain to the version published in Colonial American Travel Narratives, which is based on the London edition of 1682. Wendy Martin, ed., "A True History of the Captivity of Mrs. Mary Rowlandson," Colonial American Travel Narratives. New York: Penguin Books, 1994, 27.

8 Rowlandson, 23.

9 Rowlandson, 14. This same passage, incidently, also lets us know that, in addition to being able to chart her geographic loaction, Rowlandson knew how to keep time during the day by observing the sun's position in the sky.

10 Rowlandson, 17.

11 Rowlandson, 26.

12 Rowlandson, 14

13 Rowlandson, 22.

14 Rowlandson, 23.

15 Downing, 254.

16 Zabelle Derounian, 86.

17 Zabelle Derounian, 82.

18 Kathryn Zabelle Derounian provides compelling evidence of Increase Mather's probable involvement with the production and publication of Mary Rowlandson's captivity narrative in "The Publication, Promotion, and Distribution of Mary Rowlandson's Indian Captivity Narrative in the Seventeenth Century." Kathryn Zabelle Derounian, "The Publication, Promotion, and Distriubtion of Mary Rowlandson's Indian Captivity Narrative in the Seventeenth Century," Early American Literature 23:3 (1988): 239-261.

19 Richard Slotkin and James K. Folsom, eds., So Dreadful a Judgment: Puritan Responses to King Philip's War, 1676-1677. Middletown: Wesleyan University Press, 1978, 57.

20 Mason I. Lowance, Jr., Increase Mather. New York: Twayne Publishers, 1974, 43-44.

21 Anne Kusener Nelsen presents a fascinating portrait of the rivalry between Mather and Hubbard that was played out against the backdrop of King Philip's War. Anne Kusener Nelson, "King Philip's War and the Hubbard-Mather Rivalry," William and Mary Quarterly 27 (1970): 615-29.

22 Nelsen, 615.

23 Nelsen, 621.

24 Slotkin and Folsom, 57.

25 Mitchell Robert Breitwieser, American Puritanism and the Defense of Mourning: Religion, Grief, and Ethnology in Mary White Rowlandson's Captivity Narrative. Madison: University of Wisconsin Press, 1990. 7-8.

26 Joanne Gaudio presents an interesting analysis of Mather's negotiation between alternating personas as minister and politician. Joanne M. Gaudio, "'So many parts of myselfe': Increase Mather, Minister or Politician?" CEA Critic 57 (1994): 67-76.

27 Slotkin and Folsom, 303.

28 Neal Salisbury, ed., The Sovereignty and Goodness of God by Mary Rowlandson with Related Documents. Boston: Bedford Books, 1997. 44.

29 Zabelle Derounian, Publication and Promotion 242.

30 Robert B. Stepto, "I Rose and Found My Voice: Narration, Authentication, and Authorial Control in Four Slave Narratives," Within the Circle: An Anthology of African American Literary Criticism from the Harlem Renaissance to the Present, ed. Angelyn Mitchell, (Durham: Duke University Press, 1994) 256.

31 Stepto, 256.

32 Salisbury, 9.

33 Rowlandson, 7.

34 Rowlandson, 9.

35 Salisbury, 45.

36 Salisbury, 45.

37 Salisbury, 45.

38 Carole Boyce Davies, "Collaboration and the Ordering Imperative in Life Story Production," De/Colonizing the Subject: The Politics of Gender in Women's Autobiography, eds. Sidonie Smith and Julia Watson, (Minneapolis: University of Minnesota Press, 1992) 12.

39 Davies, 3.

40 Tara Fitzpatrick, "The Figure of Captivity: The Cultural Work of the Puritan Captivity Narrative," American Literary History 3:1 (1991) 2.

41 Fitzpatrick, 13.

42 Downing, 255.

43 Rowlandson, 33.

44 Slotkin and Folsom, 58.

45 Slotkin and Folsom, 74.

46 Slotkin and Folsom, 74.

47 Rowlandson, 29.

48 Rowlandson, 25.

49 Rowlandson, 43.

50 Douglas Edward Leach attempts to accurately delineate the timeline of events during Mary Rowlandson's captivity by comparing her recollections with historic knowledge of King Philip's War. Douglas Edward Leach, "The 'Whens' of Mary Rowlandson's Captivity," New England Quarterly 34 (1961): 353.

51 In So Dreadful a Judgment Slotkin and Folsom discuss in detail Mather's penchant for tweaking the order of events of King Philip's War in his written histories of the conflict so that it would follow the mythology he created on Indian/Puritan relations. Sel. 60-70.

52 Slotkin and Folsom, 67.

53 Downing, 254.

54 Lisa Logan, "Mary Rowlandson's Captivity and the 'Place' of the Woman Subject," Early American Literature 28 (1993): 274.


Works Cited





1. Breitwieser, Mitchell Robert. American Puritanism and the Defense of Mourning: Religion, Grief, and Ethnology in Mary White Rowlandson's Captivity Narrative. Madison: University of Wisconsin Press, 1990.
 
 

2. Davies, Carole Boyce. "Collaboration and the Ordering Imperative in Life Story Production." De/Colonizing the Subject: The Politics of Gender in Women's Autobiography. Eds. Sidonie Smith and Julia Watson. Minneapolis: University of Minnesota Press, 1992. 3-19.
 
 

3. Dietrich, Deborah. "Mary Rowlandson's Great Declension." Women's Studies 24:5 (1995): 427-439.
 
 

4. Downing, David. "'Streams of Scripture Comfort': Mary Rowlandson's Typological Use of the Bible." Early American Literature. 15 (1980-81): 252-259.
 
 

5. Fitzpatrick, Tara. "The Figure of Captivity: The Cultural Work of the Puritan Captivity Narrative." American Literary History 3:1 (1991): 1-26.
 
 

6. Gaudio, Joanne M. "'So many parts of myselfe': Increase Mather, Minister or Politician?" CEA Critic 57:1 (1994): 67-76.
 
 

7. Leach, Douglas Edward. "The 'Whens' of Mary Rowlandson's Captivity." New England Quarterly 34 (1961): 352-363.
 
 

8. Logan, Lisa. "Mary Rowlandson's Captivity and the 'Place' of the Woman Subject." Early American Literature 28:3 (1993): 255-277.
 
 

9. Lowance, Jr., Mason I. Increase Mather. New York: Twayne Publishers, Inc., 1974.
 
 

10. Minter, David L. "By Dens of Lions: Notes on Stylization in Early Puritan Captivity Narratives." American Literature 45 (1973): 335-347.
 
 

11. Nelsen, Anne Kusener. "King Philip's War and the Hubbard-Mather Rivalry." William and Mary Quarterly 27 (1970): 615-629.
 
 

12. Rowlandson, Mary. "A True History of the Captivity and Restoration of Mrs. Mary Rowlandson." Colonial American Travel Narratives. Ed. Wendy Martin. New York: Penguin Books, 1994. 1-48.
 
 

13. Salisbury, Neal. Ed. The Sovereignty and Goodness of God by Mary Rowlandson with Related Documents. Boston: Bedford Books, 1997.
 
 

14. Slotkin, Richard and James K. Folsom. Eds. So Dreadful a Judgment: Puritan Responses to King Philip's War, 1676-1677. Middletown: Wesleyan University Press, 1978.
 
 

15. Stepto, Robert B. "I Rose and Found My Voice: Narration, Authentication, and Authorial Control in Four Slave Narratives." Within the Circle: An Anthology of African American Literary Criticism from the Harlem Renaissance to the Present. Ed. Angelyn Mitchell. Durham: Duke University Press, 1994. 256-281.
 
 

16. Zabelle Derounian, Kathryn. "The Publication, Promotion, and Distribution of Mary Rowlandson's Indian Captivity Narrative in the Seventeenth Century." Early American Literature 23:3 (1988): 239-261.
 
 

17. ---. Puritan Orthodoxy and the 'Survivor Syndrome' in Mary Rowlandson's Indian Captivity Narrative." Early American Literature 22 (1987): 82-93.