an executioner, a vulgar, bloodthirsty wretch, was then
called to cut up the body. With bitter taunts he stood over him with
his hatchet, and cut off his head and quartered him. Philip had one
remarkable hand, which was much scarred by the explosion of a pistol.
This hand was given to Alderman, who shot him, as his share of the
spoil. Alderman preserved it in rum, and carried it around the
country as a show, "and accordingly," says Captain Church, "he got
many a penny by it." We would gladly doubt the statement, if we could,
that the head of this ill-fated chief was sent to Plymouth, where it
was for a long time exposed on a gibbet. The four quarters of the
mangled body were hung upon four trees, and there they remained
swinging in the moaning wind until the elements wasted them away.

Thus fell Pometacom, perhaps the most illustrious savage upon the
North American continent. The interposition of Providence alone seems
to have prevented him from exterminating the whole English race upon
this continent. Though his character has been described only by those
who were exasperated against him to the very highest degree, still it
is evident that he possessed many of the noblest qualities which can
embellish human nature.

It is said that with reluctance and anguish he entered upon the war,
and that he shed tears when the first English blood was shed. His
extraordinary kindness to the Leonards, inducing him to avert
calamities from a whole settlement, lest they, by some accident, might
be injured, develops magnanimity which is seldom paralleled. He was a
man of first-rate abilities. He foresaw clearly that the growth of
the English power threatened the utter extermination of his race. War
thus, in his view, became a dire necessity. No man could be more
conscious of its fearful peril. With sagacity which might excite the
envy of the ablest of European diplomatists, he bound together various
heterogeneous and hostile tribes, and guided all their energies.
Though the generality of the Indians were often inhuman in the
extreme, there is no evidence that Philip ever ordered a captive to be
tortured, while it is undeniable that the English, in several
instances, surrendered their captives to the horrid barbarities of
their savage allies.

"His mode of making war," says Francis Baylies, "was secret
and terrible. He seemed like the demon of destruction
hurling his bolts in darkness. With cautious and noiseless