University of Virginia Library

18. CHAPTER XVIII.

As has already been foreshadowed in the vision of the old
Indian seer described in the preceding chapter, King Philip,
in despite of the impotent attempts which General Cudworth,
at the expense of the lives of many of his troops, had made
to drive him from his swamp fastnesses on the eastern shore
of the lower Taunton; and despite, also, of the still more
futile attempt which the same sage commander next made to
surround and starve him into submission—in despite of all
these, King Philip and his warriors, laughing to scorn these
contrivances to entrap them, remained their own appointed
time, and then silently and safely transported themselves, one
dark night, on the flotilla of canoes and rafts they had prepared
for the emergency, to the west side of the river, and,
before morning, had accomplished nearly half their rapid and
triumphant exodus from their old homes to the wilderness
hills of Central Massachusetts. Remaining here, however, no
longer than to afford him sufficient time to perfect his alliances
with the Connecticut tribes, and with them arrange the plans
of his contemplated fall campaign—allowing, in the meantime,
his restless warriors the pastime of destroying the frontier
village of Brookfield, and of driving back, with the loss of
nearly half their numbers, the Massachusetts Commissioners,
who, with a strong, armed escort, were approaching to attempt

to detach the Nipmucks—the bold and energetic chieftain
suddenly burst down from the mountains, like a storm-cloud,
into the valley of the Connecticut; and the surprised and
comparatively unguarded towns of Northfield, Greenfield,
Deerfield, Hatley, Hadley, and Springfield, were soon, and in
rapid succession, made to feel the terrible weight of his vengeance.
He had now been joined by every considerable tribe
of the Indians, from the shores of the Atlantic to the distant
banks of the Hudson, with the single exception of the traitorous
Mohegans.[1] And by the wonderful celerity of his
movements, his unvarying sagacity in planning his attacks,
and the consummate skill of all his military combinations—
never surpassed by a Schamyl or Napoleon—he soon, in spite
of his rallying opponents, here rapidly concentrating from
every part of New England, succeeded in wrapping that beautiful
valley in fire and blood, filling it with mourning and
lamentation for the perished flower of its youth and manhood,
and leaving its history to be saddened by one of the bloodiest
pages that ever marked the annals of an American colony.

But as the events of this sanguinary campaign—which, for
the next three months, unceasingly occupied nearly the whole
force of the united colonies in saving the devoted valley from
entire desolation — have no immediate bearing on the thread
of our story, now fast approaching its development, we must
be permitted, with this cursory notice, to skip over them,
together with the time they occupied, in order to be allowed

more space for the description of the great event which was
to close this year of disaster and blood, and whose results,
while exercising as great an influence on the fortunes of the
war as those of any other that occurred in its progress, were
at the same time destined to become the turning point in
the fate and fortunes of nearly all the different personages
whose contrasted characters and varied experiences we have
been endeavoring to delineate.

Slowly and dismally broke the struggling light of the chill
December morning, as the fifteen hundred stern Puritan soldiers,
who lay bivouacked round the smouldering ruins of a
block-house, situated on a western arm of Narraganset Bay,
about half way from Providence to the ocean. The united
forces of Massachusetts, Plymouth, and Connecticut colonies,
raised by prodigious exertions, and composed of the most
brave and hardy men that the whole of New England could
furnish, had reached the place the preceding evening, but
only to find the garrison-house of their appointed rendezvous
enveloped in a mass of flames, and its fated score of its inmates
and defenders lying slain and scalped around the burning
pile, from which they had been driven by the fire to
meet the preferred alternative of dying by the bullets and
tomahawks of the infuriated besiegers. The deed had been
done by an advance party of Narraganset warriors, in retaliation
for losses sustained by them the day before, while hovering
on the flanks of the army, already within their territory,
and evidently approaching for hostile purposes, in direct
violation of existing treaties. But neither the Puritan officers
nor soldiers were the men to think of being turned back
by the loss of a block-house, although it was the only one, on
this long, wild, and dreary coast, which could have afforded
them the shelter of a roof for their headquarters, in a campaign
so peculiarly liable, under the circumstances, to disastrous
reverses. And besides this, their wayside sallies upon

their flanking opponents, had resulted in an advantage as
little expected by them as by their foes. It was understood
that the great body of the Narraganset Indians had collected
and fortified themselves in some fastness of great strength
and difficulty of access, where, like the luckless Pequots of a
former period, they might be surprised and exterminated at
one blow. The locality of this stronghold, however, was not
known to a single man in the army. But among the score or
two of prisoners taken in their skirmishes, they found one
who was base enough to betray his people, and who not only
pointed out the fortified retreat of his tribe, but offered to
guide the army to the spot. And this, in despite of the fact
that they would have no place to retreat to but an open snowy
field, in case of failure and pursuit, and in despite also of the
still more alarming fact that their provisions were utterly expended,
and the promised supply of more had failed to arrive
—this had led to the bold decision of an immediate march
for the retreat of the enemy, now ascertained to be about
twenty miles distant.

Although the morning light was still but feebly illuming
the thick leaden clouds in the east, yet the whole army were
already on the stir. Hundreds of bright lights were blazing
from their camp-fires, around which sat the shivering soldiers,
partaking their last rations, and gloomily listening to the sullen
dashing of the ice-cumbered waves along the shore, or the
low, portentous roar of the wind moaning through the surrounding
forests. Such dismal sounds now seemed to come
in sympathy with their own feelings; for they were bitterly
thinking of the day before them.

Before one of these camp-fires, moodily and alone, sat the
veteran, Captain Mosely, his head drooping in thought, and
his ear seemingly dead to the noise and commotion around
him. Soon, however, his attention was aroused by the sound

of an approaching footstep, and looking up, he beheld his
friend, Captain Willis, standing at his side.

“Why look so sober?” said the latter, in his usual calm,
cheerful manner—“what are you pondering so gloomily,
Captain Mosely?—the pretty day's work upon which we are
about to enter?”

“Yes, Willis, yes.”

“Well, it looks dubious enough, certainly; but it is not
likely we shall all be killed.”

“Oh, no; but I am not so sure but every single, damned
dog of us all ought to be.”

“I don't understand, at all, what you are driving at, Captain
Mosely.”

“I suppose not. Well it is not the dangers to be
encountered which I shrink from—pooh! no, not that!”

“What is it then?”

“Why, the fact is, Captain Willis, I have some conscience
and religion, and would like to be a Christian in these matters of
war. In short, I don't like the questionable character of this
expedition. I don't like the idea of this marching an army
to massacre a whole tribe of Indian people with whom we are
at peace.”

“Not at peace now, Captain Mosely. The commissioners of
the colonies, who have been invested with full power for such
purposes, after a long session at Boston, last month, all
united in issuing a formal declaration of war against the Narragansets.”

“True; but how much did that mend the matter? A declaration
of war without cause, is nothing less than a declaration
of intention to rob and murder. And what are the
causes which these wise commissioners, after a month's drumming
about for reasons, were able to set forth to justify their
declaration of war? Why, forsooth, firstly, that these hellish

Narragansets had been guilty of exercising the world-acknowledged
rights of hospitality towards Philip's women, children,
and wounded warriors, whom we had driven out starving and
mutilated from Montaup. Nextly, for being guilty of killing
a two year old bull belonging to somebody. Thirdly, for surrounding
a man's house till he had paid for something that he
had cheated a drunken Indian out of. Fourthly, for a rumored
rejoicing at some of our reverses on Connecticut river.
Fifthly, for being deeply guilty of a suspicion of aiding in the
war against us. And lastly, and astoundingly, if they had not
already been so, they certainly soon would be!”[2]

“Nathless, they are as good causes of war as those given
for the destruction of Canaan by the Jews, whose examples our
rulers are so fond of quoting, and so intent on our following.”

“Just about—just about. There is where you have it,
friend Willis. Aye, those Jews! those bloody Jews! Pretty
fellows they, to be quoting! Why, of all the remorseless and
coolly calculating devils that ever claimed to be a nation, they

were—well, well, they finally furnished us the blessed Saviour
—though they must needs murder even him—yet they did furnish
him for the whole of us lost sinners; so I will be mum
about them. But do you suppose, Willis, that our over pious
rulers, in taking the early examples of the Jews for a pattern,
ever thought of the final fate of the Jews, who, with no other
great national crimes, or, at least, no other half so deserving
divine vengeance, as their wholesale murder of the Canaanites,
were made to become, after a comparatively brief run of prosperity,
one of the most broken up, scattered, despised, and
God-forsaken people, that the wide earth was ever compelled
to bear upon her loathing bosom?”

“No. The first band of our pilgrim fathers who landed
on these shores, and who were doubtless one of the purest
flock of Christians ever collected, never spoke of the examples
of the Jews in driving out the heathen. That is the discovery
of their degenerate successors in the church after becoming
politicians; and they only wish to avail themselves of it
as a convenient justification of the acts that grow out of their
covetousness and unholy ambition. But we should not, perhaps,
be very forward in judging our rulers, or judging for them. As
to this expedition, however, I must say, I heard of it with surprise,
and, as an individual, have scarcely less scruples than
yourself, about the policy and justice which moved it. Still, as
soldiers, we must obey the powers that be, and throwing our private
scruples to the wind, do our duty bravely. The responsibility
of the right or the wrong, rests not on us, Captain Mosely.”

“That is true, thank God; and I sha'n't be backward in
facing the worst dangers we may be called on to encounter.
Still, if I am killed, the first instant I set foot in the other
world, I will turn State's evidence, and tell them there that I
joined in the affair only from a sense of military duty, and
directly against my will and conscience. But what think you,
Willis, will it turn out a butchery or a fight?”

“Perhaps both, but a severe fight, any way. The Indians
always know of the very first movements of any army, and
soon gather a wonderful accurate opinion of its purposes. And
if they had any doubt about the design of ours at first, our
unceremonious assaults on their scouting parties, for the last
two days, will teach them what they are to expect from us.
They may not know anything about the communications of
this traitor guide, and therefore be surprised that we have
found them so soon. But even if we reach there to-day, they
will be prepared to give us as much fight as we may want.”

“A fight it will be then; for we have not now got the shilly
shally Cudworth for a general, but the iron-heeled old governor,
Winslow, who, how much soever he might yield to bigot
influences at court, would, as a military leader out of it, storm
through the gates of hell before he would flinch from his purposes.”

“Well, he may have to do it, or something nearly akin to
it, before he shall have accomplished his object, if that prisoner's
account of the formidable character of the defences of the
enemy be true, as, from a close examination of him, I became
satisfied it was.”

“Do you believe Philip and his warriors to be there to
join in the defence of the place?”

“No, Captain Mosely, there can be no more room there
than can accommodate the numerous Narragansets and their
guests. Besides, Philip is too active and restless a man, with
the extended arrangements he has on his hands abroad, to
shut himself up there in idleness. But it must have been
Philip's genius that planned and supervised fortifications so
strong and so unusual in Indian warfare. Our first struggle
will be to get within them; and then will come the more terrible
one of making headway against the then doubly desperate
three thousand defenders we shall be sure to find there. It
will be bloody work; but I would not stay away if I could;

for I am half expecting, half fearing to find somewhere in
that enclosure, those whom I would give my life to protect
and rescue.”

“From what I have gathered and guessed about your secret
objects and anxieties, I think I understand you, friend Willis.
And if your conjectures should prove true, though I doubt
whether they will, I will hold myself in readiness to assist you
in carrying out your wishes. But hark! there goes the long
roll of the drums, and there rises the stern voice of the old
general giving out the order of the march. We must away
to our posts of duty.”

All was now bustle and commotion in every part of the encampment.
And, for awhile, the noise of the hoarsely clamoring
drums, and the lively fifes piping out shrilly on the
frosty air, of the quick tramp of the soldiery hurrying to their
places in the ranks, and the short, stern words of command,
grumly repeated from place to place along the incipient lines,
by the officers forming their respective companies, the rattling
of muskets, and the flapping of standards flaunting on the
gusty breeze, together with the appearance of stir and animation
which everywhere met the eye, all combined to form a
scene in singular contrast with the physical gloom of the hour
and a still more striking one with the terrible realities which
that indomitable army were destined to encounter on that
memorable day. While this was in progress, the aspect of
the heavens had been growing every moment more and more
gloomy and ominous. The cold, gray, leaden clouds which
the first light of the dawn had revealed thickly curtaining
the east, had gradually spread upwards and around, continually
growing thicker and darker, and ever and anon sending
forth those short, hollow soughs of the wind that are known
to seamen as the precursors of a coming storm. But neither
the portents of the heavens, the discomforts of their situation,
nor their entire destitution of provisions, were permitted to deter

the hesitating and doubtful troops, from the contemplated
march.

“Now on!” rang the loud, authoritative voice of the determined
old veteran in command, the moment he saw the last
lingering squads of troops taking their places in the line of
march.—“On! on, for that nest of heathen vipers,—on, in
the name of God! for he hath this day delivered them into
our hands.”

And, accordingly, on they moved with steady, measured
tread through the cumbering snows of the sedgy plain, stretching
out drearily away before them to the southwest, in the supposed
direction of the doomed stronghold of a congregated
nation of victims. And thus, hour after hour, they laboriously
forced their weary way over the bleak, snow clad hills
and plains, which, with their scant forests of pine and oak,
intervened in their course, until, after a cold and toilsome
march of nearly fifteen miles, without a moment's rest, or a
mouthful of food, and cheered only by the sighing of the winds
as they swept mournfully through shivering forests, or the
croaks of the wild ravens, that, with hurried flight, were occasionally
seen winging their way overhead, they, at length,
reached the borders of the great swamp, within whose dark
recesses was somewhere situated the formidable object, to
which they, for many days, had been so fearfully looking forward.
But imagination could scarcely picture a place more
dismal and forbidding than that which here presented itself
to the eyes of the amazed and recoiling soldiers. Far away,
as the eye could reach, in every direction in front, lay
stretched one dark unbroken mass of thick, tangled and seemingly
impenetrable forest. And when the well warranted
visions of secret ambuscades, which would probably be sprung
upon them on the way, and the death-dealing vollies of a
thousand unseen muskets, which would certainly greet them
when they approached the dreaded fortress, and before, perhaps,

a single shot of their own could be made to count on
the enemy, rose in their minds, the stoutest hearts quailed beneath
their assumed looks of composure, and the sternest
visages blanched at the prospect before them.

“Fetch me hither one Willis, I think they call him,” said
the general to an attendant, as soon as he had ordered the
halt which now became necessary for making some desired
alterations in the order of the troops, before entering the
swamp—“one Willis, who is said to be here in the army
somewhere, with a band of volunteer rangers. Fetch him
hither straightway, as I would see him immediately.”

The attendant hurried off on the bidding; and in a few
minutes the surprised and wondering young officer, who now
for the first time had been noticed by any of the military dignitaries
of the court of Plymouth, came forward and presented
himself before the general.

“Your name is Vane Willis?” inquiringly said the austere
old Puritan commander, after sharply eyeing the other a moment
in silence.

“It is, your Excellency,” respectfully but unobsequiously
replied Willis.

“Well, sir,” resumed the former, authoritatively, “you and
the men who act with you are said to know something of
woodcraft, and the fighting of the salvages in their own fashion.
If so, I have business for you.”

“I am not in commission, sir,” responded Willis, with a
slight tinge of reproach involuntarily creeping into his tones—
“I am not in commission, sir, nor has my company ever been
recognized by the court of Plymouth.”

“No matter,” said the general, gruffly, “you are here to
fight, like the rest of us, I suppose; and I wish you to take
charge of our Indian guide, and, carefully keeping him within
the lines of your men, so that he cannot escape, and following
the path he shall point out for you, lead the way with him

forward through the swamp to the stronghold of the Narragansets.
Now away to the duty. Some of our best companies
will follow you close in the rear, to be on hand in case
of surprise or ambush.”

A crowd of bitter thoughts, in view of past neglect, flashed
over the mind of the young officer on being thus deputed, for
his first official recognition, to a service which he knew, and
the general knew, every other company in the army would
shrink from, and if possible avoid. But he prudently repressed
his feelings; and knowing that his company could
perform the dangerous duty better, and at a less sacrifice of
life, than any other, he bowed his acquiescence, and hastened
away to prepare his men for entering immediately on the
allotted service. In a few minutes the Indian guide, attended
by a file of soldiers, came forward, and first pointed out, by
the different landmarks discernible from reach to reach along
the low, far-stretching forest in front, the proximate locality
of the distant fortress, and then the circuitous but only practicable
way by which it could ever be reached. Having by
these means obtained a pretty correct notion of the course to
be taken, and decided on the most feasible place for entering
the swamp, Captain Willis at once put his company in motion,
and, closely followed by that of his fearless friend, Captain
Mosely, who had claimed the privilege of leading on next in
order, plunged directly into the gloomy depth of the frowning
forest before him. And for the next hour, these bold and
hardy men continued to struggle unceasingly onward through
the obstructing boscage of the deepening thickets, expecting
every moment to be saluted by the vollies of the ambushing
foe, but happily, thus far, meeting with no other molestation
than what arose from the almost insuperable natural difficulties
they every where encountered on the way. But at length,
after forcing their way through one of the most tangled and
wide-spread jungles they had attempted to penetrate, they

suddenly came out upon a beaten track, which at first seemed
to terminate wholly at the border of the jungle, but which a
closer inspection showed to have been made up of numerous
small and scarcely discernible trails, diverging out on either
side towards different and distant points on the borders of the
swamp. Now readily believing the assertions of the guide—
whose good faith they had begun to distrust—that this path
led directly to the only entrance of the stronghold of the
enemy, they here made a short halt, to await the approach of
the companies more immediately in the rear, and make arrangements
for moving on more cautiously, and in a manner
which should better ensure them against surprises from the
secret ambuscades which they would now be more likely to
encounter. As soon as these objects were effected, they again
slowly advanced along the path about half a mile further,
intently listening for suspicious sounds, and keenly inspecting
every doubtful object in the surrounding woods on either side
of the way, but as yet wholly unable to detect so much as the
sound of a stirring leaf, or discover the least indication of the
presence of an enemy. All at once, however, the guide, who
had been casting wary glances through the thickets—now
becoming more dense—a little distance from the path both on
the right and the left, stopped short in his tracks, and pointing
to an opening here distinctly disclosing itself through the
trees about a furlong in front, hastily, but in low, cautious
tones, exclaimed—

“There! there the place!—come right straight to it now—
me get kill, me go further.”

Finding the guide could not be induced to proceed any further,
and having been ordered to keep him under his own eye,
Captain Willis ordered his men to fall back two or three rods
into the woods, and, arranging themselves in a scattered line
on the left, stand ready for service, as a flanking party, until
the forces in the rear should advance by them on the way to

the scene of action. In a few minutes, Captain Mosely, at
the head of his company, came up, and, after having been
significantly pointed ahead, and briefly apprised of the situation
of affairs, pushed resolutely forward towards the opening.

“I don't quite fancy this ominous silence,” said Captain
Willis to his trusty lieutenant, Noel, as the two officers, who
happened to have taken station near each other, were standing,
like all their men, with their backs placed against the
protecting trunks of large trees. “No, I don't fancy it at all,”
he added glancing out uneasily into the forest.

“Nor I,” returned the other, “nor much less do I like the
looks of those freshly fallen thicket topped trees, strung along
there on both sides of the way in front, just about far enough
back to make the best coverts for mischief.”

“Aye,” quickly responded the captain, with a look of lively
concern—“I see them, and now right abreast of the whole
line of Mosely's men. And, by heavens! there is a movement
among those dark boughs!”

At that instant the whole forest shook and rebounded, as
if from the shock of an earthquake; while countless streams
of fire and smoke were fiercely darting out from the suspected
coverts upon both flanks of the advancing column, from which
strong and lusty men were every where seen pitching heavily
to the earth under the leaden storm of death, which had so
suddenly burst on their devoted band.

“Charge to the right!” shouted the excited Willis, instantly
comprehending the advantages of the secreted foe, and the
danger of permitting them to retain their positions a minute
longer—“charge those on your right, Captain Mosely. I will
find business for all on this side; whether they count by hundreds
or thousands. And now, boys,” he added, turning to
his impatient men, the sharp clicking of whose cocking fire-locks
everywhere proclaimed their readiness for action—“now,

boys, scatter and run like wild horses, till you get round to
flanking positions near the hither end of that line of coverts,
whence the fire proceeded, and then give the red devils a death
doom for every bullet you send after them.”

With marvelous celerity the order was executed. And,
though the savages, at first, seemed determined not to relinquish
their chance for another onslaught on the white forces,
whom, with glistening eyes and leveled pieces, they saw approaching
the same spot where the first company had been
surprised, yet the shots of the closely pressing rangers fell so
fast and fatally on their exposed ranks, that they soon broke,
and hotly pursued, fled away into the deep recesses of the
forest to the south.

“Mosely, I conclude,” said Willis, as he fell in with his
lieutenant, as they were retracing their steps from the soon
relinquished pursuit of the scattered and flying foe—“Mosely,
I conclude from the distance and decrease of the firing, has
been as successful in scattering and driving off the enemy on
that side, as we have on this.”

“Doubtless; and as we have now cleared the way for the
main body of our forces, nothing remains for them but to close
up and finish the work,” responded the other carelessly.

“Finish! It is too soon for us to use that word, Noel,”
rejoined Willis seriously. “What we have done will prove,
I fear, but boys' play to what is to come, and the enemies we
have seen but a mere handful to those yet to be encountered,
and in positions, too, a little different from those formed by a
few tree tops.”

“But do you fear for the result?” asked Noel, with an
anxious look. “With our strong force, I should think we
could hardly fail of success.”

“That may depend wholly on the manner and places in
which we attempt to carry the works,” replied the former.
“One serious mistake, in this respect, may be fatal to our

success; and I feel very anxious that any such error should
be prevented. But I can do nothing—judge of nothing, till
I can get a view of the whole defenses. That must be my
first business. And stay! I now see where, and how, I can
effect that object.”

“How?” enquired the lieutenant with an air of mingled
doubt and concern—“how, without exposing yourself to
certain death from the bullets of the intrenched enemy?”

“You see that dark, thickly limbed spruce fir, here on our
left?” said the captain in reply, as the two were now creeping
through the screening undergrowth, directly abreast, and
within a hundred yards of the supposed locality of the fortified
enemy. “That tree, you perceive, greatly overtowers the
shorter growth falling off towards the opening beyond, and its
top must afford a clear view of all I wish to see.”

“Yes; but that is too dangerously near to think of risking
yourself there, Captain Willis,” remonstrated the other.

“No,” responded the former confidently—“no danger—the
boughs are very thick, and, rising against the black forest
here, will effectually screen me till I can climb high enough
for my purpose. You keep the red lurkers at a safe distance
here in the rear, and I will risk all dangers from the front,”
he added hurrying away on his hazardous intent.

On reaching the foot of the tree, the adventurous hero rapidly
mounted it to the height of twenty-five or thirty feet; when perceiving
himself to be getting above the tops of the trees beyond,
he carefully, and, by almost imperceptible degrees,
worked himself up closely on the back side of the trunk some
ten or twelve feet higher. Here casting about and catching
such imperfect glimpses of appearances without, as to serve
for a general guide, he drew out his pocket knife, and
carefully cut away portions of the boughs, so as to form several
small loop-holes for different views in front. And then, after
a brief pause, he secured a good foot-hold, grasped a strong

limb with one hand, slowly swung his body forward, and
cautiously peered out; when the whole scene burst at once
upon his amazed vision.

On a fully cleared, oblong, dry tract of land, embracing an
area of six or eight acres, and everywhere surrounded by a
deep moat of partially frozen water, stood a city of strongly
built log wigwams, ranged compactly in rows, extending laterally
from one border of the island to the other, but falling
off near the northern and southern extremities, so as to leave
broad open space, at each end, for battle grounds. Around
the whole island jutting down perpendicularly to the edge of
the water, on all sides, was extended a compact, interwoven
mass of large, prostrate trees, about eight feet high in front,
and nearly as many in thickness; while deeply and strongly
inserted between the outward layers of the trees, round their
whole extent, stood double rows of heavy, upright timbers,
sharpened at the tops, and rising many feet above the heads
of the dark lines of the red warriors, who were seen everywhere
manning their tremendous ramparts, securely couching
behind their bullet proof palisades. To the whole of this vast
and fearful enclosure, there was but a single entrance. At the
northeastern extremity, and directly facing the path along
which the white troops were approaching, the wooden rampart
was left bare of palisades for a distance of about twenty feet;
but instead, a rod or two back of the parapet, stood a high
block-house, pierced from top to bottom in front, with long,
regular rows of dark loop-holes, and fully commanding the single,
large tree trunk, which, extending over the water in a
line with the path here coming in on the opposite shore to the
foot of the rampart beneath the block-house, constituted the
only visible place of access, and which was thus made to complete
the picture of this formidable stronghold of the doomed
nation of the luckless Narragansets.

Scarcely had our amazed and anxious observer found time

to take in, from his lofty perch, all the different objects of his
hasty survey, before he noticed a lively, but subdued commotion
among the hordes of swarthy warriors, who, before but
partially revealed to his view, were now seen rising up from
behind every wigwam, log, and stump in the enclosure, and
stealthily creeping along, with trailed muskets, towards the
open space at its northerly extremity; while hundreds of dark
muzzles were being slowly and cautiously protruded through
all the loop-holes of the block-house, and every crevice in the
palisades, for some distance around it. Following with his
eye the direction indicated by these ominous movements,
Captain Willis beheld, with emotions of unutterable anguish,
the head of the column of his brave companions in arms emerging
from the woods, and unsuspectingly advancing with
hurrying step, directly towards the end of the log leading
over to the entrance, which he had seen to be so fearfully
guarded. Overcome by his sense of their danger, and forgetful
of his own exposed situation, he shouted aloud to them to
desist. But in the intense excitement of the moment, his words
seemed to be neither heard nor heeded by friend or by foe;
and the next moment his ears were greeted by the loud voice
of Captain Johnson, whose company, in the order of the
march, came next that of Captain Mosely, and who having
reached the water, was now heard sternly crying,

“Charge! charge over that log upon the works beyond!
and let no man hesitate to take death or victory for his watchword!”

Soon, but too soon, was the fatal order obeyed, and but
too soon the saddest of those alternatives to be realized. A
dozen men, fast followed by more, were seen quickly filing
away over the long tree-bridge, and led on by their resolute
captain, rapidly making their way to the rampart on the other
side. There was then a moment of deathlike silence, during
which, many a low crouching head rose to sight, and many

a savage eye gleamed triumphantly along the nicely poised
barrel of his unerring firelock. And then, sudden as the
bursting thunder clap, the rent heavens leaped from the concussion
of a hundred exploding muskets. As the whirling
cloud of smoke, which had wrapped moat, block-house, and
palisade alike in its murky folds, lifted and floated away, that
extended trunk was found to bear up not a single man of its
late score of occupants. They had all been swept down, dying
and dead together, into the dark waters below.

The young officer turned away sickened and appalled. But
before he could realize what had so suddenly passed before
his eyes, his attention was again drawn to the spot by the
rallying shouts of the next company in the rear, who, undismayed
by the fate of those that had preceded them, and urged
on by their impetuous leader, Captain Davenport, came rushing
on to renew the fearful experiment. But scarcely was
the fatal trunk covered by the devoted band, before another
tremendous volley burst from the defenses of the besieged
red men, and another score of their victims were swept into
the moat.

“Merciful God!” exclaimed Captain Willis, “is there no
other place of assault—no diversion to be effected to prevent
this wholesale destruction of our troops?”

And in an agony of anxiety, he quickly withdrew his gaze
from the spot, and eagerly ran his eye round the whole circuit
of the island; when at length it fell upon a high, leaning
tree, luckily standing on the shore on his side of the moat,
but a short distance to the south, and tall enough, he was
confident, to reach fully across the water to the works on the
opposite side. His plans were formed in an instant; and
rapidly swinging himself down from limb to limb, from his
lofty lookout to the ground, he swiftly made his way back to
his company, who by this time, had all come in, and, having

heard the firing at the scene of action, were now impatiently
awaiting his arrival.

“Our axemen—where are our axemen?” he hurriedly exclaimed.

“Here, on hand and ready!” promptly replied the two
rangers, whose duty it was made, in every campaign, to go
always provided with light axes swung to their backs.

“Come on, then! one and all come on, and you will soon
understand what I want,” cried the former, striking a line
through the woods, with his excited company at his heels,
for the helping tree, which was the first object to require attention
in his new plan of operations.

“There!” he resumed, with kindling energy, on reaching
the spot, and pointing to the tree in question, “fell me that
tree square across this ditch of water, as quick as your best
blows can be made to do it. Fear not to expose yourselves.
The enemy suspecting no attack in this quarter of the island,
have all hurried away to help defend their main entrance at
the other end, where they are cutting down our vainly assaulting
forces by scores. But put in there with your axes,
with a will; and we will have a bridge to their enclosure,
and be down on their rear before they know what ails them.”

The woods around were soon resounding with the fast falling
blows of the strong armed axemen, who, one half hour
before, would not have lived to perform a moiety of their
task. But, at a little distance, all noises of this kind were
effectually drowned by the roar of musketry, which now more
and more incessantly rose from the other end of the island;
while every eye near enough for observation, was too absorbingly
intent on what was there transpiring, to heed the present
movement: for the third, fourth, and fifth attempt had
been made to reach the desperately defended entrance: but
thus far, only with the same disastrous results. And now the
stern and unyielding old Puritan general, who had just

reached the sanguinary scene, was heard storming, like a
chafed tiger, in rallying the dismayed troops, and in goading
them forward for another onset.

“She begins to tremble, captain,” now cheerily cried one
of the choppers, glancing up the tree, and then over his
shoulder to his impatient leader. “There! that last blow
has given her the staggers! Now look out for her last kick!
he added, as he and his fellow axeman scrambled up the bank
to get beyond the reach of the anticipated recoil.

With a sharp crack at the severing stump, and a sudden,
toppling bow of the tufted top of the tall stem, the tree, with
a booming roar, came crashing down upon the surface of the
foaming water, and the smoking parapet beyond, carrying
away half a dozen of the strong palisades in its fall, and leaving
open a clear path into the supposed impregnable enclosure.

“Now, come on, boys—come on!” shouted Captain Willis,
mounting the prostrate trunk, while it was yet vibrating beneath
his tread, and bounding along over its half submerged surface,
with his whole company hastening on as fast as possible in the
rear.

To land, collect, and throw themselves into a straggling
line, was but the work of a moment.

“Now, forward!” cried the impatient leader, in a tone that
revealed the sternness of his purposes. “On, each for himself,
as fast, and in such way as he best can, to the last coverts
bordering the scene of action, get positions, and await the
order for a cheer and a volley.”

Instantly dashing forward, with the rapid, stealthy bounds
of panthers for their distant prey—some along the open spaces
near the lines of the palisades, and the rest along the narrow
lanes winding through the thickly clustered masses of the
intervening wigwams, each too intent on reaching his destination,
to heed the startled looks of the swarms of women, children,
and disabled old men, everywhere encountered on the

way, they had all, almost before the minutes could be counted,
reached their appointed stations, and, still undiscovered, now
stood eagerly awaiting the promised order, within fifty yards
of the crowding lines of the multitudinous foemen all too
deeply engrossed with the dangers in front, to have a thought
to spare for any that might arise behind them.

The expected order quickly came; and the next instant,
there rose from the mingling voices of the gallant little band,
a shout so loud and wildly defiant, that the sound rose above
the roar of battle, and carried its thrilling and welcome peal
to the sinking hearts of the army without. And then speedily
followed, square into the turning faces of the astonished
foe, a volley from the well aimed pieces of the rangers, that
brought fifty red warriors to the earth.

Instantly profiting by the confusion into which the enemy
had so manifestly been thrown by the unexpected attack in
their rear, the daring Captain Mosely, who had just reached
the scene of action, and from the absence of the rangers, was
looking for some such diversion, ran quickly across the log
that had been fatal to so many others, and, closely followed by
his whole company, gained with them the rampart in safety;
and, the next moment, with the look and roar of the roused
lion, he was seen heading a desperate charge upon the recoiling
ranks of the amazed and confounded enemy.

Soon rallying, however, from the utter consternation which
had seized them, on finding themselves so unexpectedly and
suddenly assailed by an unknown force in the rear, and at
once perceiving their fatal error in permitting their opponents
to profit by their confusion so far as to secure the important
advantage of a foothold within the works, the red warriors
instantly threw themselves into two dense lines, extending
from side to side across that end of the enclosure, and, unflinchingly
confronting their assailants on both sides, soon
wrapped themselves in the smoke of their own volleys, which

now burst like a series of rapid thunder claps along their
lines. And then, as fresh companies of the colonial forces,
rushing, one after another, through the storm of bullets that
greeted their thinning ranks on the way, came pouring into
the enclosure,—then commenced a conflict, to which, for
ferocity and desperation on the one side, and unwavering determination
and disciplined bravery on the other, the whole
annals of war scarcely furnish a parallel.

Musket, sword, knife, and tomahawk were wielded in the
work of death, as never before, by the infuriated combatants.
Here advancing, here receding, and here gathering afresh for
more desperate onsets, the living tide of battle swayed forward
and backward, like the conflicting waves of a cross sea
in an ocean tempest. The dead and the dying, officer and soldier,
plumed chieftain and painted warrior, Puritan and savage,
lay everywhere promiscuously strewed together beneath the
fiercely treading feet of the unheeding survivors, and the
beaten earth was everywhere encrimsoned by the out-gushing
life blood of the countless victims of the terrific strife, while
the incessant and deafening crashes of musketry, the fierce
clashing of hostile steel, the agonizing shrieks of the wounded,
the hoarse shouts of the indomitable white soldiery, and the
appalling yells of the maddened red warriors, all, commingling
to swell the dreadful din, rose in awful tumult over the shuddering
forests around, and literally

The heavens, which, in the meanwhile, had, for hours, been
growing more dark and threatening, now began to give
earnest token of the near approach of the fearful storm that
was destined to close this day of carnage with its superadded
sufferings and woes. A tempestuous wind broke howling over
the vexed wilderness; and with it, soon came the wreathy
undulations of the driven snow beating down fast and fiercely,
as if hastening to cover from the sight the gory horrors of the

battle field. But the maddened combatants, in the demoniac
fury with which they were plying the work of death, heeded
neither snow nor tempest, nor aught else coming between
them and the objects of their mutual hate and vengeance.
And thus, alternately driving and driven across the blood-drenched
field, for more than another terrible hour, unceasingly
raged the desperate conflict.

At length, however, the force of discipline began perceptibly
to prevail; and the red warriors, whose lines had become
sensibly weakened by their fearful losses, slowly fell back
among the wigwams, and there, for awhile, with the new advantages
of partial coverts, made their final stand, fighting
with desperate ferocity in their last hope of saving their helpless
women and children. But the fierce and rapidly repeated
charges of the white forces, exasperated to madness by the
sight of their dying and dead companions, over whose writhing
or lifeless forms they were constantly treading, soon visibly
counted on the now irregular and broken lines of the
weakened warriors, who, still desperately disputing the ground
foot by foot, gradually retreated from wigwam to wigwam till
they reached the last division of the devoted village; where
now were soon to be added new and more revolting features
to the dreadful scene.

As the dividing bands of the on-rushing troops advanced
among the wigwams, the frightened inmates, consisting of
women, children, and cripples, poured from every door in the
hope of escape, but were everywhere struck down, in their
helplessness, by sword, bullet, or clubbed musket, without
mercy or compunction. And not content with this, these infuriated
Christian soldiers, who had become demons of wrath
and destruction, whom their heathen opponents might well
have blushed to own as fellow creatures, applied the blazing
torch to the inflammable roofs of every cabin in their way,
many of which were still filled with deserted infants or bedridden

warriors. And the out-bursting flames, which quickly
revealed themselves along the whole northern lines of the
wigwams, being instantly caught up and swept forward by the
blasts of the tempest, went leaping onward, like a swiftly passing
army of fiery serpents, from cabin to cabin, and spread
with such inconceivable rapidity, that within one half hour, the
whole extended village was hopelessly within the grasp of the
devouring element. A scene of terrific grandeur, combined
with more appalling horrors than all which had yet transpired,
now speedily followed. Here, dimly disclosed in the spreading
smoke, were seen dark groups of red warriors casting their
discharged guns to the ground, and, in the frenzy of their
rage and despair, leaping over the charging muzzles, upon
their foes, to close in the fatal embrace, and sink with them
to the earth. There decrepit old men, unable to fight, but disdaining
to flee, were singing their death songs, and then with
shouts of maniac laughter, throwing themselves headlong into
the flames of their burning wigwams. And there again went
up the wild clamor of mingling shout and war-whoop from
parties of the exasperated combatants, who had suddenly met
and rushed together in deadly conflict; while far and wide,
over the whole extent of the fire-wrapped village, rose to the
pierced heavens, shrieks after shrieks from the scores of innocent
victims, who, unable to escape, were perishing in the
flames. But the shouts and war-whoops of scattering conflicts,
the outcries of alarm and distress, and screeches of mortal
agony, as loud and terrible as they fell on the recoiling
ear, were soon overpowered and lost in the explosive out-bursts
which now every where, and almost simultaneously, ensued in
the progress of the universal conflagration. Then a hundred
black columns of smoke shot up, in swiftly whirling eddies,
to the clouds, and there uniting, hung, for awhile the broad
heavens with the pall of midnight, sending forth, as they ascended,
a fierce, crackling roar, which, mingling with the
howling of the tempest, might have out-sounded the wildest
tumult of a storm-beaten ocean. Then clear and bright, as
the jets of blazing furnaces, rose the wreathing spouts of living
fire, which, being again struck and leveled, as at first, by a
fresh blast of wind, streamed onward in almost unbroken sheets
of flame over the whole area of the consuming mass, and converted
it into a surging lake of fire, that cast its lurid glow
far and wide over the dark forests around, and clothed in
crimson the stormy and smoke mingled clouds above.

But we will here cease any further attempts at a general
description that must fall so far short of the terrible realities
of the scene, and return to the gallant, though still unacknowledged
young officer, whose individual fortunes we have
undertaken to follow in the expedition, upon the results of
which he had exercised such an important agency.

When the regular troops had succeed in driving the savage
forces back among the cabins, Captain Willis gradually retreated,
so as still to keep the latter between the two fires of
their opponents. And thus fighting and falling back, he had
reached the southern line of the village; when he discovered
the soldiers setting fire to the wigwams at the other extremity.
Seeing, at a glance, that unless a stop was at once put
to this suicidal proceeding, the whole village must be speedily
destroyed, and with it the provisions and shelter which he
believed to be indispensable to the safety of the army, he left
his lieutenant in command, and made his dangerous way alone
back to General Winslow, and urged him, in view of the
hungered condition of the men, and the alarming aspects of
the cold and stormy night before them, to order instantly the
incendiaries to desist and the fires to be extinguished. But
his entreaties and suggestions finding no favor with the bigoted
commander and his officers, who sneeringly told him they
“came not to save but to destroy the nested heathen,” he
sadly, and with a boding heart, returned to his company.

By this time perceiving with alarm, from the rapid progress
the fire was making, that the whole village must soon be
wrapped in flames, and urged on by his private anxieties for
the fate of one, who, after seemingly flitting before him for
months, like some illusive vision, must, he thought, at last
be found here, either as guest or captive; he again rushed
forth alone for the hazardous adventure of threading the
crooked, pent lanes of the burning town, for the rescue of the
loved object of his search, who must now be brought or
driven from her concealment by the fast invading flames.
And on he madly plunged through smoke and fire, regardless
of the bullets and tomahawks, that were often hurled after,
and several times wounded him, till he had encompassed
nearly the whole place in the various turns and devious
courses he had taken, in the eager prosecution of his design.
But all in vain. Though he keenly scanned, as he darted
onward, every one of the many flying groups of women and
children he encountered, his eye was greeted with no form
which could be taken for the idolized object of his solicitude.
And he now paused in the partial screen of a freshly bursting
smoke cloud, to take breath, and decide what further
measures could be taken in furtherance of his purpose.
While thus occupied, he noticed for the first time that the
firing had nearly ceased on both sides; and at the same time,
he recalled the hitherto unheeded circumstance, that every
group of fugitives, whether of warriors or women, whom he
had seen or encountered, were all rushing in one direction,
and that was evidently some particular point on the west side
of the island, over which a dense cloud of smoke had for some
time been shutting down closely to the ground. Instantly
starting with the new thought which these facts suggested,
he rapidly made his way towards the indicated point of egress
or assembling, and soon reached a stand where the whole
movement stood explained to his view. A rude, but capacious

draw-bridge, which had previously been prepared and
concealed under the ramparts for such an emergency, had
been hastily pushed across the moat, and the entire body of
the surviving red warriors had already, under cover of the
dense smoke driven by the wind in that direction, made their
escape over it into the dark, tangled, and almost impassable
cedar forest, closely encircling the moat on that side of the
island; while the last straggling groups of their women were
then passing over the bridge, and hurrying away into the
thickets beyond. But among them, as among all who had
been previously scanned, no semblance or trace of the lost
maiden was to be discovered. And Willis, sad, disappointed,
and weakened by the loss of blood from his wounds, of the
effects of which he now for the first time became sensible,
was turning dejectedly away from the spot, when he suddenly
encountered a doubtfully garbed, unarmed man, who was evidently
intent on gaining the bridge to join in the general
rush of the fugitives. At first taking him to be one of the
enemy with concealed arms, our hero instantly roused himself,
and throwing back his sword, stood in the menacing
attitude of one about to strike in anticipation of an assault
from another.

“Hold!” cried the man, with a calm, fearless look, and in
pure English accents—“have you not already here slain
enough of the defenceless and innocent, that you would cut
down a man who has never been in arms against you?”

“Not against us?” returned Willis, surprised, disarmed,
and hesitating, under the undefined sensations created by
something he saw or read in the look and manner of the
other—“Not in arms against us? How came you here, then?”

“As a guest, sir,” replied the stranger fearlessly—“as a
guest of this hapless people of the woods whom your army
have this day visited with such an unprovoked massacre.”

“I have shed no innocent blood,” responded the officer,

too sensible of the justice of the implied rebuke to permit of
angry retort. “I have shed no blood, except that of opponents
in arms against us. But whether you should be ranked
among them, I may not perhaps be warranted in affirming contrary
to your statement. Nathless, it will be my duty to detain
you as a prisoner.”

“I will not be made a prisoner,” said the other, firmly.

“Then I must force you,” rejoined the former, again drawing,
but less resolutely.

“Hold! I once more entreat,” exclaimed the stranger,
quickly stepping up to the very point of his opponent's half-raised
weapon, and inspecting it with a keen, earnest look.
“It is as I thought at the first glance—it is the one, and a
mystery is solved. But can he who is permitted to bear that
sword think of imbruing it in the blood of a guiltless, unarmed
man, and especially in that of one who—Oh, heaven! what
misery in such a forecast!”

“This sword!” exclaimed Willis, in surprise and excitement.
“What know you, sir, of this sword? Tell me—tell
me instantly!”

“That I may not do,” thoughtfully but firmly responded
the other. “No, it were better for all concerned that no
further disclosure at present be made. But, see! the smoke
is lifting from the moat. We can neither of us much longer
remain here in safety. Let me go.”

“I cannot part with you thus,” cried the perplexed and
strangely disturbed officer. “I will not. I must know more
of you. Trust yourself with me as a prisoner.”

“Nay, it were even safer that you become my prisoner,
instead,” replied the stranger, throwing an anxious glance at
the now blanching and blood-stained face of the other. “You
could not protect me, even on this field, much less in the
settlements, if you and your army are ever destined to reach
there. You are evidently a badly wounded man, and cannot

keep on your feet much longer. Why, sir, you are already
trembling and staggering to the fall.”

It was so. The words were scarcely uttered before the
wounded officer sunk down senseless to the earth. Instantly
starting, the anxious stranger ran back a few rods, to a dead
warrior—who had breathed his last in drawing himself
towards the bridge—stripped off his blanket, ran back, hastily
wrapped it round the swooned officer, lifted him with main
strength on to his shoulder, hurried staggering over the bridge
with his burden, and quickly disappeared in the forest, where
we must leave them for the present, to note the closing scenes
of death and suffering which were still to mark this sanguinary
and dear-bought triumph of the indomitable Puritans.

All the readily inflammable materials of the wigwams
having been consumed, and the fires from the solid timber
having so subsided as to permit near approaches, the troops
now forced their way over the whole enclosure. But, to their
surprise, not an enemy was to be found. They had all
vanished, and as the draw-bridge had been removed, no one
could tell how or where. They were not, however, left long
in their wonder and suspense. In a few minutes, their scattered
forces were every where greeted by a sudden, irregular
fire, bursting from unseen foes all along the border of the dark
forest on the west, and falling on their recoiling ranks with
fatal effect. A rally was, indeed, made, and a few volleys
returned, but with no other effect than to draw a thicker and
more deadly fire from the concealed and evidently unharmed
enemy. To attempt to charge into such a thicket, in the
gathering darkness of night, were worse than useless; while
to remain on the island, where their ranks were so rapidly
thinning, and where the lights of the fires made them conspicuous
targets for the sharp-shooting foe, were but to court
death for their whole army. Then was the blind folly of
firing the wigwams brought painfully home to the bigot

commander; and “Retreat! instantly retreat for the settlement!”
was now sounded from company to company through
the half panic-struck army, who were the next moment seen
hastily gathering up their wounded, and disorderly rushing
from the island. But what pen can describe the woes and
sufferings of the fearful retreat through the now deep and
trackless snows of forest and field, the intense cold, the blinding
darkness, and the pitiless storm, of that terrible night?
And who can tell how, exhausted with toil and hunger, they
ever reached their destination, as history tells us they did
before morning, though with the loss of most of their
wounded, frozen stiff, and cast aside on the way?

Thus ended this memorable swamp fight with the Indians,
which resulted in the destruction of one half of the Narraganset
nation, and, including all the resulting deaths, full
one-fourth of the Puritan army.