same day they passed to Rhode-Island, and in the night crossed to the Pocasset shore. Concealing themselves in two parties, one of them, "being troubled with the epidemical plague of loving tobacco," kindled a fire to smoke it, by which the enemy discovered them and fled. Church had ordered their breakfast from the island, but the man employed forgot his duty, and "their only provisions were a few cakes of rusk," which Church had in his pocket, divided among them. He then, at his own request, took a part of the men, and went in search of the enemy. They proceeded towards Seconet, and passed down Punkatees neck. By the side of a wood, they were saluted by a volley of 50 or 60 guns; yet not a man was hurt. Retreating to a field, they were surprised by observing a hill above them apparently moving, being covered with Indians, running in a circuit to surround them. In fair view, on Rhode-Island, were collected a company of horse and foot. Church ordered his men to strip off their coats, that their brethren on the island might recognize them by their white shirts; he ordered three guns to be distinctly fired, in hopes they would come to his relief. A part of his men he ordered to take a wall; but before they reached it, the enemy, concealed on the other side, assailed them with a shower of bullets. All now endeavoured to shelter themselves behind a small bank, and a piece of fence, where they were attacked from every rock, stump, tree or fence within sight. A stone house, which overlooked them, the enemy seized, which seemed to threaten their last hope; but, piling up stones before them, they maintained the contest. A boat arriving from Rhode-Island was kept at a distance by the incessant fire of the Indians. Church desired them to send their canoe, and take him and his men on board; but his arguments were weak, compared with the whizzing of the bullets. Some of the men began to cry out "For God's sake, come and take us off; our ammunition is spent." Lest the enemy should hear and learn their weakness, Church fiercely ordered the boat to send the canoe, or be gone, or he would fire upon them. Away went the boat; the Indians renewing the battle with increasing fury. Some of the English were discouraged and spoke of saving themselves by flight. Their captain convinced them that this was impossible, and encouraged thein to persevere. "I have," says he "observed so much of the remarkable and wonderful providence of God in so far preserving you, that I am encouraged to believe, with much confidence, that God will yet preserve you, that not a hair of your head shall fall to the ground; be patient; be courageous; be prudently saving of your ammunition; and I doubt not you will yet come off well." His little army were roused, and determined to take their lot with him.

As one of them was setting a flat stone before him, it was struck by a ball, which greatly alarmed the fellow. Capt. Church turned this to his advantage. "Observe," said he, "how God directs the bullets; the enemy could not hit you when in the same place; yet they could hit the stone as soon as it was raised." While they

were fighting for their lives, the woods trembling with the roar of the musketry, the shouts and yells of the savages, and a dismal night coming on, a sloop was descried coming down the river, near Gold Island. Golding, the captain, came to an anchor, though his sails, colours and stern were instantly filled with bullet holes. Church was the last that went in the canoe; but recollecting that he had left his hat and cutlass at a well, he declared the enemy should not have them. Having brought off those things, as he went on board two bullets struck the canoe; another lodged in a stake opposite to his breast, and a fourth "grazed the hair of his head." So closed an action of 6 hours, 20 men, fainting with hunger, against 300 ferocious savages. A deliverance, of which the captain always spoke in the most devout and grateful manner. The next day they returned to Mount Hope; whence Mr. Church went to Rhode-Island for provisions, and learned from an Indian where were the headquarters of Weetamore, squaw sachem of Pocasset. On his return, a party was sent to attack the Queen; but, after marching 2 miles, the commanding officer was discouraged, and declared, that if he knew he should destroy all the enemy by the loss of one man, he would not make the attempt. Church was vexed, offered to lead the way, and hazard the brunt, to no purpose, tartly adding: "Pray sir, lead your company to yonder wind-mill on Rhode-Island; there will be no danger of being killed, and we shall have less trouble to supply them with provisions." Still the officer would return; and, after receiving more men, was transported to Fall River in Freetown, to visit Weetamore. Capt. Church and Capt. Hunter, an Indian and one more, were sent on discovery. They soon came upon three of the enemy. Hunter wounded one, which he found was his kinsman. The captive desired favour might be shown to his squaw, but asked none for himself, "excepting the liberty of taking a whiff of tobacco." While he was taking his "whiff," his kinsman dispatched him with one blow. So is man the prey of man; the victim of selfishness and cruelty. Neighbours and brothers destroy each other. Such are the bitter fruits of sin. The quarters of Weetamore were soon discovered; she and her people fled, and ours returned to Mount Hope.

Soon after, a great part of Dartmouth was covered with desolation; but Capt. Eels and Earl took 160 prisoners, promising them good treatment; yet, in spite of them and Capt. Church, who all argued and plead and begged, those in higher office carried them to Plymouth, and transported them out of the country. About this time Philip fled to the Nipmucks, in Worcester county.

Capt. Church attended Gen. Winslow as a volunteer in the Narraganset expedition, waxed valiant in fight, rushed into the fort, was badly wounded by two balls, and though unable to stand, refused to be carried off, till the enemy were driven from their shelter. In vain he exerted his influence to prevent the fort, the dwellings and the stores from being set on fire. Had he succeeded, the wounded

might have been comfortably lodged, and many lives preserved. In three months his wounds were so far healed, that he accompanied Gen. Winslow into the Nipmuck country, though so lame that he needed the assistance of two men to mount his horse.

Soon after his return, he removed his family from Duxbury to Rhode-Island, for their greater security, intending to engage in agricultural labour; but he no sooner took a tool in his hand, than he cut off one finger, and badly wounded another. He pleasantly said, he thought he was wrong in leaving the war, and would return to war again. Accordingly, he went to Plymouth, agreed with the government, and returned to raise men. Passing Seconet Point, he spoke with some Indians on the rocks, and appointed an interview with Awashonks, and some of her principal men, At Rhode-Island he requested a permit to hold the treaty. They told him he was mad, that the rogues would certainly kill him. At length they consented he should go, and take only two friendly Indians with him; but they would give him no written permit. Buying a roll of tobacco and a bottle of rum, he visited his family, who were almost overwhelmed with apprehensions of danger; yet he obtained their consent, and, committing his wife, his babes and himself to the divine protection he proceeded on his embassy, Landing at Seconet, he was kindly received by the queen and a few attendants, according to previous appointment. But walking from the water to find a convenient place to sit down, a great body of Indians, who had been concealed in the tall grass, rose up and surrounded them, armed with hatchets, guns, and spears; their faces painted, and hair trimmed in style of war. The sight was terrible, and doubtless our gentleman was surprised; yet he retained his presence of mind, and calmly said to the queen, "When people treat of peace, they lay aside their arms." Perceiving that the savages looked surly, he added, "they might only carry their guns at a small distance for formality." Thus he managed them, by showing neither fear nor jealousy. Laying aside their guns, they sat down. He then affably drank, and circulated his rum and tobacco. They soon engaged "that they would submit to the government of Plymouth, and serve them in what they were able, if their lives might be spared, and none of them transported out of the country." They were soon ordered to Sandwich, where Church visited them, after going to Plymouth for liberty of employing them as soldiers. Arriving at Sandwich, he and his attendants were conducted to a shelter, open on one side, where Awashonks and her chiefs soon paid him a visit, and the multitude made the air ring with their shouts. Near the open side of the shelter, a huge pile of dry pine was soon raised, which, after supper, was set on fire. The Indians gathered round. Awashonks, with her oldest people, kneeling down, formed the first circle, next to the fire. All the stout men, standing up, made the next; the rabble surrounded them in another circle. The chief warrior then stepped between the circles and the fire with a spear in one hand, and a hatchet in the other, dancing round, and

fighting the fire. Calling over the tribes of Indians, who were hostile to the English, at the mention of each tribe, he would draw out and fight a new firebrand. Finishing the fight with the brand, he would bow and thank it. So he proceeded, naming and fighting all the tribes and nations. Sticking down his weapons, he retired, and a second performed the same dance, fighting with new fury. When half a dozen chiefs had thus acted their parts, the captain of the guard told Mr. Church, they had been making soldiers for him, that this was "all one swearing them." Having in this manner engaged all the stout men, Awashonks and her captains came to Mr. Church, and said, "Now we are all engaged to fight for the English. You may call forth all, or any part of us, at any time, as you have occasion to fight the enemy." They then presented him with a fine firelock. He accepted their offer, took a number of their men, and the next morning before light, marched for Plymouth, where, July 24, 1676, he received a commission and reinforcement to fight the enemy. In the night he marched into the woods, and before day was at Middleborough. He soon discovered and took a large party of Indians. The compensation of the troops was half the prisoners and arms taken; the Indian soldiers had the loose plunder. The same week, near Munponset pond, he took another large party.

He soon became the favourite of the public, and the government gave him authority to raise or dismiss troops at his pleasure, to commission officers, to pardon his captives, Philip and a few notorious murderers excepted, and to march where he pleased in New-England, He soon took Little Eyes and his party, who had revolted from Awashonks, when she joined the English. Some of the Indians reminded him that this was the rogue that threatened to kill him at the dance before the war, and intimated that this was a good time to be revenged. Church told them, that christians did not seek revenge. He treated Little Eyes kindly, who expressed much gratitude.

Soon after, while pursuing the enemy, they found their track separated. The English agreed to pursue one; the Indians the other, though they at first objected, saying they should not feel safe without him. The English had not marched far before they saw across a swamp a company of Indians gathering whortleberries. Church ordered 2 men, who had horses, to ride with him, and the soldiers to follow. The three men rushed through the swamp, and were soon among the enemy. A squaw, who had been a neighbour of Church, and kindly treated by him, ran toward him, lifting up both hands, and crying "Church, Church, Church." He bid her tell the Indians, if they would resign themselves to him, they should not be killed. Many resigned themselves, but some fled. Part of these he overtook, and ordered back. They drove their prisoners together, but could hear nothing of their own company. Returning, they found them where they had been left. The swamp being difficult to be penetrated, and not hearing of Church and the two men, they said they supposed them killed, and were at a loss what to do. When they met

their Indian friends at Cushnet, (now Rochester,) the place appointed, they found that each party had killed 3, and taken 63 prisoners. This equality of success surprised and delighted them.

Astonishing was the skill of Capt. Church in managing the savages. From his prisoners he would select any number he needed, telling them he took a fancy to them, that they should be his soldiers, and not sold out of the country. If they looked surly and muttered, he would clap them on the back and say, "come, come; this signifies nothing; my best soldiers were as sullen as you are. Be with me one day, and you will love me and feel happy." He was never disappointed; they always became affectionate and cheerful, and would pilot him to any place of Indians, though their own parents were among them. Indians still hovering about Taunton and Bridgewater, he marched and took 173. Among the prisoners were the wife and son of Philip. The chieftain himself narrowly escaped. These incessant marches, sleeping on the ground, and wading through rivers, enfeebled his strength; he therefore returned to Plymouth, disbanded most of his men, intending to rest awhile. But news soon came that the enemy were in Dartmouth. Again he was successful; among his prisoners was Barrow, a noted warrior. Church told him that such had been his barbarities and murders, he must not expect mercy, but prepare to die. Barrow replied, "Your sentence is just; I am ashamed to live any longer; I ask no favour, only to smoke before execution." When he had taken a few whiffs, he said, I am ready. An Indian killed him with a hatchet. Again Church would have returned to his family; but the government were solicitous to continue him in service, till Philip should be subdued. He yielded; and in August marched with his company to Pocasset. Not hearing of the enemy, he went over to Rhode-Island. Taking half a dozen of his men, he rode to his family, eight miles from the landing. As he entered the door, his wife, overwhelmed with surprise and joy, fainted. By the time she was a little revived, two horsmen rode up full speed with tidings, that King Philip was at Mount Hope. Church thanked the messengers, told them he hoped to have the rogue's head before the next morning, took leave of his wife, mounted his horse, which had not been unsaddled, and returned to his company. By the time they had crossed the ferry, half the night was gone. He proceeded to place his men in ambushes all round the swamp. Having charged them not to move till daylight, that they might distinguish Philip, taking Major Sanford by the hand, he said, "I have Sir, so placed them that it is scarcely possible that Philip should escape." That moment a bullet whistled over their heads; a volley followed. Philip instantly started with his powder horn and gun, running directly to an ambush, where stood a white man and an Indian. The Englishman's gun missed fire; the Indian shot him through the heart. Philip fell on his face in the water and mud. From the swamp a terrific voice resounded "Tootosh, Tootosh." It was Anawon,

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