"Mason harangues them with high compliments And to confirm them he to them consents. Hold on, bold men, says he, as you've began; I'm free and easy; you you shall take the van." But,—("as we always by experience find, Frost-bitten leaves will not abide the wind")
These formidable veterans had gone but a few miles, when every man of them fell in the rear, and that unluckily to such a distance that not one could be found. They were in the enemy's country, and the truth was, they
"—Had so often, to their harm, Felt the great power of Sassacus's arm, That now again just to endure the same, The dreadful sound of great Sassacus' name, Seemed every moment to attack their ears, And fill'd them with such heart-amazing fears, That suddenly they run and seek to hide, Swifter than leaves in the autumnal tide." [FN]
[FN] Wolcott's Account.
This was in the evening. As the English approached the fortress about day-light, they halted at the foot of a large hill, and Mason sent word for his allies "to come up." After a long time, Uncas and Wequash [FN] alone made their appearance. "Where is the fort?" inquired Mason. "On the top of that hill," answered they. "And where are the rest of the Indians?"—Uncas said, "they were behind, exceedingly afraid;" and the most that Mason could induce them to do, was to form a semi-circle at a particularly respectful distance, for the purpose of witnessing the attack of the English upon the enemy's fort, and waylaying such of the Pequots as might escape their hands.
[FN] Vide "A Brief History of the Pequot War: Especially of the memorable Taking of their Fort at Mystic in Connecticut in 1637, written by Major John Mason, a Principal Actor therein, as the chief captain and commander of Connecticut Forces: Boston: Printed and Sold by S. Kneeland and T. Green in Queen St. 1736." The following is the motto of this tract.—"We have heard with our ears, God, . . . how thou didst drive out the heathen with thy hand, and plantedst them; how thou didst afflict the people and cast them out," &c.
The author of New England's First Fruits calls this man a famous captain, a proper man of person, and of very grave and sober spirit. He became religious after the Pequot war, lived sometime among the whites, and then preached to his countrymen until his death, which was occasioned by a dose of poison wherewith some of them repaid him for his labors. A Massachusetts clergyman says of him, in 1648: "He loved Christ, he preached Christ up and down, and then suffered martyrdom for Christ; and when he dyed, gave his soule to Christ, and his only child to the English, rejoycing in this hope, that the child should know more of Christ than its poore father ever did."
The resistance was manly and desperate, but the whole work of destruction was completed in little more than an hour. The extent and violence of the conflagration kindled by the assailants, the reflection of this pyramid of flames upon the forest around, the flashing and roar of arms, the shrieks and yellings of men, women and children within, and the shouts of the allies without, exhibited one of the most awful scenes which the pens of the early historians have described. Seventy wigwams were burnt, and five or six hundred Pequots killed. Parent and child alike, the sanop and squaw, the gray-haired man and the babe were buried in one promiscuous ruin.