On the evening of the 27th two squaws applied at each of the garrison houses for permission to sleep inside as was often done, and two were admitted into each of the garrisons, Walderne's, Heard's and Otis's, and were shown how to unfasten the gates if they wished to go away during the night. There was a report of a great number of Indians coming to trade next day, and the sachem Wesandowit, who had taken supper at the Major's asked him pointedly, "Brother Waldron, what would you do if the strange Indians should come?" "I could assemble a hundred men by lifting up my finger," replied the Major, in careless indifference. And thus all retired to rest; no watch was placed and no precautions taken.
After midnight the gates were opened by the squaws. The Indians waiting outside rushed in and took possession without any alarm and rushed into the Major's rooms. Aroused from sleep, the old man sprang up, seized his sword, and despite his eighty years, drove them before him through several rooms, but turning to secure other arms, they sprang upon him from behind and struck him down with a hatchet; they bound him into his arm-chair and placed him upon a long table; they mocked him, and asked, "Who shall judge Indians now?" They compelled the family of the Major to prepare them supper, after which they drew their knives, and slashed the helpless old man across the breast, saying "I cross out my account." They then cut off his ears and nose and forced them into his mouth, till at last, when fainting with the loss of blood he was about to fall, one of them held his sword beneath him, upon which falling he expired.
Soldiers of King Philip's War by George Madison Bodge, pages 316-317
Rockwell and Churchill Press, Boston, 1896