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The Saving of Hadley

King Philip's War was raging. Hundreds of the people of New England had fallen victims to the fury of the savages. Whole villages had perished, their inhabitants being slain or carried away as captives. The country was in a state of terror, for Philip was a ruthless foe, and the war-whoop of his followers meant death by tomahawk fire-brand. or The whites were ever on the lookout. The farmer took his gun with him to the fields, and listened always for the sound of alarm from his cabin. The churches were guarded like forts, and men prayed with musket in hand. By night the villages slept with a watch posted at every avenue of approach. Despite all this, the dusky savage glided upon his foe undetected, and generally left behind him a havoc of smoking ruins and dead bodies.

Hadley, Massachusetts, was a frontier town at this time, 1676. It was on the northwestern edge of white settlements, and beyond were the forests full of deadly Narragansetts. One day, in the midst of summer, the people were gathered at church, engaged in divine worship. The hour had been set apart for fasting and prayer, that the land might be delivered from the scourge of warfare. As the people prayed, the men clutched their muskets and the women cowered in dread.