captured; among the rest, Philip's wife, Wootonekanuske, and his son, a lad only nine years of age. The Sogkonates, following closely upon the fugitives, killed several, and made thirteen prisoners.

As the flight was continued, the women and children became wearied, and, being unable to keep pace with the company, fell into the hands of the pursuers. They were ordered to follow the trail, and were assured that, if submissive and obedient, they should be the more favorably treated.

Philip and his band, being suddenly surprised, while they were busily engaged in preparing breakfast, fled into a swamp, leaving "their kettles boiling, and meat roasting upon their wooden spits." Here they were hemmed in, and, after some hard fighting, no less than one hundred and seventy-three, including those who had followed the party, as directed, were taken prisoners or killed. A large division of these were so surprised and panic-struck by the number and determination of the pursuers, that they "stood still and let the English come and take the guns out of their hands, when they were both charged and cocked.” Philip, and some of his principal chiefs, escaped.

The prisoners, having been well supplied with food, were confined in the pound, at Bridgewater, and passed the night in merriment, expressing little despondency or apprehension. They reported Philip's condition and frame of mind as being miserable in the extreme. His wife and son made prisoners; his allies overpowered, or treacherous; reverses coming thick upon him; and his force dwindling to a handful of warriors, nothing but destruction seemed to await him.

On the 6th of August, Weetamore, queen of Pocasset, and widow of Alexander, Philip's eldest brother, who throughout the war had been a most valuable and faithful coadjutor to her brother-in-law, perished in attempting to

escape over the Tehticut river, into her own country, upon a raft. She had been surprised, with twenty-six of her subjects, who were all taken prisoners. The dead body of the poor queen was found stark naked, near the river bank, where she had probably crouched, half drowned, and died from exposure and famine. Her head was cut off by those who discovered her, and fixed upon a pole at Taunton, where it was recognized by some of her loving subjects kept there in captivity. Their burst of unrestrainable grief at the sight, is characterized by Mather as "a most horrid and diabolical lamentation."

Church returned to Plymouth, where he received the thanks and gratulations of the authorities, but was allowed little rest, as some of the enemy, under the great sachem Totoson, were lurking around Dartmouth, and his aid was required to dislodge them. The expedition was successful, but Totoson, with an old squaw and his little son, escaped. The squaw afterwards came to Sandwich, and reported the chief's death, saying that, "reflecting upon the miserable condition he had brought himself into, his heart became a stone within him, and he died." She said that she had covered his body with a few leaves and brush.

Worn out by hard service, hard fare, and exposure, Captain Church now sought to recruit his strength by rest; but, being urged by the government to pursue Philip to the death, and receiving promises of satisfaction for former neglect, he marched to Pocasset with a company of volunteers, and thence crossed over to Rhode Island.

He there visited his wife, whom he had left at a Mrs. Sandford's, and who fainted with surprise and joy at meeting him alive; but hardly had the first greetings been exchanged, when tidings came post that Philip was to be found at his old quarters in Mount Hope neck. The horses upon which Church and his companions had just arrived stood at the door; and, telling Mrs. Church that

"she must content herself with a short visit when such game was ahead," they all mounted and spurred off.

They learned from the deserter who had brought the intelligence, that Philip was encamped upon a spot of dry land in a swamp hard by the mount; and Church, being well acquainted with the locality, lost no time in taking advantage of his information. He crossed the ferry with his men, and approached the spot during the night. Having distributed a portion of the force in such a manner as to command all the places where the enemy would be likely to attempt escape, another detachment, under Captain Golding, proceeded to "beat up Philip's head-quarters ; " with directions to make all the noise possible, while pursuing the fugitives, that they might be known by those who lay in ambush.

The Indians, startled by the first fire, rushed into the swamp, with Philip at their head. Half clothed, and flinging his "petunk" and powder-horn behind him, the doomed chief came, at full speed, fully within range of the guns of an Englishman and an Indian, who lay concealed at one of the points of ambuscade.

The white man's gun snapped, but the fire of his companion was fatal. Philip fell upon his face in the mire, shot through the heart. This event took place early in the morning of Saturday, the 12th of August, 1676.

Thus the main object of the campaign was accomplished; but most of the hostile party managed to escape. Among them was the old chief, Annawon, a great captain under Philip, and Massasoit, his father. He "seemed to be a great surly old fellow," hallooing, with a loud voice, "Iootash - Iootash!" Peter, Church's man, said that he was calling on his men to fight bravely, and hold their ground.

Several of Church's Indians dragged the body of poor Philip out of the mire, "and a doleful, great, naked beast

he looked." By the direction of the captain, who averred that, having "caused many an Englishman's body to be unburied and to rot above ground, not one of his bones should be buried," one of the Indians beheaded and quartered the body of the fallen sachem, as was the custom towards traitors. The old executioner, who was appointed to this office, first made a short speech, which, but that it was rather more coarsely expressed, might remind one of the exultation of the heroes of Homer over a conquered foe.

However far removed from that absurd and morbid sensibility which perceives greater tokens of depravity in an indignity offered to a senseless carcass than in acts of cruelty and injustice towards the living, we do not care to defend this act of Church. One of Philip's hands, which had been formerly marred by the bursting of a pistol, was given to Alderman, the Indian who shot him. The exhibition of it proved a source of no small profit. The head was long exposed at Plymouth, and the devout Mather exults in having, with his own hand, displaced the jaw from the skull of "that blasphemous leviathan."

CHAPTER VIII.

PURSUIT OF ANNAWON AND HIS PARTY. - DARING PROCEDURE OF CAPTAIN CHURCH.-END OF THE WAR, AND FINAL DISPOSAL OF PRISONERS.. -SUMMARY OF THE COLONIAL LOSSES.

AFTER the death of Philip, the company returned to Plymouth, and received, as premium for their services, thirty shillings for each Indian killed or taken.

Toward the end of August, Church was again called from Plymouth to go in pursuit of Annawon, who, with the feeble remains of his force, was scouring the country

around Rehoboth and Swansey. He accordingly took a few faithful soldiers, with his brave and tried lieutenant, Jabez Howland, and hastened through the woods to Pocasset. He intended passing the Sabbath on Rhode Island, but hearing that Indians had been seen crossing from Prudence Island to Poppasquash Neck, he hastened at once in quest of them. As they were passing the river in canoes, so heavy a gale sprang up that, after the captain and fifteen or sixteen Indians were over, the boats could no longer venture. Without waiting for their English companions, this little company marched round through the northern part of the present town of Bristol, and spreading across the narrow portion of the neck, sent scouts to ascertain the position of the enemy. They there passed "a very solitary, hungry night," having no provisions. Early in the morning, Nathaniel, an Indian of the scouting party, appeared, and told how he, with his companion, had taken ten prisoners, by lying concealed, and attracting the enemy's attention, by howling like a wolf. One after another, they would run to see what caused the noise, and Nathaniel, "howling lower and lower, drew them in between those who lay in wait." They afterwards secured the wives and children of these captives, all of whom said that Annawon never "roosted twice in a place," but continually shifted his quarters. They represented Annawon as the bravest and most subtle of all Philip's warriors, and said that the men who still adhered to him were valiant and resolute.

An old Indian, accompanied by a young squaw, were next taken, both of whom had come direct from the great chief's encampment, which was in Squannaconk swamp, in the south-easterly part of Rehoboth. The old man, in consideration that his life was spared, agreed to pilot Church to the spot, but begged that he might not be compelled "to fight against Captain Annawon, his old friend.”