Fortunately, the early and long-continued extreme cold weather of that
winter had rendered it more passable than it otherwise would have
been. But the ground was rough, and very difficult to traverse. They
were chilled and worn by their long march, following winding paths
through thick woods, across gullies, and over hills and fields. It was
between one and two o'clock in the afternoon, and the short winter day
was wearing away. Winslow saw the position at a glance, and, by the
promptness of his decision, proved himself a great captain. He ordered
an instant assault. The Massachusetts troops were in the van; the
Plymouth, with the commander-in-chief, in the centre; the Connecticut,
in the rear. The Indians had erected a block-house near the entrance,
filled with sharp-shooters, who also lined the palisades. The men
rushed on, although it was into the jaws of death, under an unerring
fire. The block-house told them where the entrance was. The companies
of Moseley and Davenport led the way. Moseley succeeded in passing
through. Davenport fell beneath three fatal shots, just within the
entrance. Isaac Johnson, captain of the Roxbury company, was killed
while on the log. But death had no terrors to that army. The centre
and rear divisions pressed up to support the front and fill the gaps;
and all equally shared the glory of the hour. Enough survived the
terrible passage to bring the Indians to a hand-to-hand fight within
the fort. After a desperate struggle of nearly three hours, the
savages were driven from their stronghold; and, with the setting of
that sun, their power was broken. Philip's fortunes had received a
decided overthrow, and the colonies were saved. In all military
history, there is not a more daring exploit. Never, on any field, has
more heroic prowess been displayed. By the best computations, the
Indian loss was at least one thousand, including the large numbers who
perished from cold, as they scattered in their flight without shelter,
food, or place of refuge. Of the colonial force, over eighty were