So less than a hundred
Englishmen were left to attack seven hundred Indians.
A little before dawn they reached the fort. The Indians were
all sleeping and keeping no guard, so the Englishmen quietly took
possession of both entrances to the fort.
Then suddenly through the still morning air the sharp sound of a
volley of musketry rang out "as though the finger of God had touched
both match and flint." Affrighted, the Indians sprang from their
sleep yelling in terror. They scarce had time to seize their bows
and arrows when, sword in hand, the Englishmen stormed into the
fort. A fierce fight followed, showers of arrows fell upon the
Englishmen, but they did little hurt, and glanced off for the most
part harmless from their thick buff coats and steel corslets.
During the fight some of the huts were set on fire, and soon the
whole village was a roaring mass of flames. Many perished miserably
in the fire, others who fled from it were cut down by the Englishmen,
or escaping them, fell into the hands of their own countrymen. They
found no mercy, for they had given none; and, remembering the awful
tortures which their fellow-countrymen had suffered, the Englishmen
had no compassion on their murderers.
Ere an hour had passed the fight was over. Out of four hundred
Indians not more than five escaped. The Pequots were utterly wiped
out and their village a heap of smoking ruins.
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