The grants of land made to these gallant men and their heirs amounted in all, and ultimately, to seven distinct tracts, called “Narragansett Townships.”  They were made in fulfilment of an express public promise to that effect.  It is stated in an official document, that “proclamation was made to them, when mustered on Dedham Plain” on the 9th of December, just as they took up their march, “that, if they played the man, took the fort, and drove the enemy out of the Narragansett country, which was their great seat, they should have a gratuity in land, besides their wages.”  The same document, which is in the form of a message from the House of Representatives to the Council of the Province of Massachusetts, dated Jan. 10, 1732, goes on to say, “And as the condition has been performed, certainly the promise, in all equity and justice, ought to be fulfilled.  And if we consider the difficulties these brave men went through in storming the fort in the depth of winter, and the pinching wants they afterwards underwent in pursuing the Indians that escaped, through a hideous wilderness, known throughout New England to this day by the name of the hungry march; and if we further consider, that, until this brave though small army thus played the man, the whole country was filled with distress and fear, and we trembled in this capital, Boston itself; and that to the goodness of God to this army we owe our fathers’ and our own safety and estates,”—­therefore they urge the full discharge of the obligations of public justice and gratitude.  They did not urge in vain.  The grants were made on a scale, that finally was liberal and honorable to the government.

I have dwelt at this great length on the Narragansett campaign and fight, partly because the details have not been kept as familiar to the memory of the people as they deserve, but chiefly because they demonstrate the military genius of the community with whose character our subject requires us to be fully acquainted.  The enthusiasm of the troops, when Winslow gave the order for the assault, was so great, that they rushed over the swamp with an eagerness that could not be restrained, struggling as in a race to see who could first reach the log that led into the fiery mouth of the fort.  A Salem villager, John Raymond, was the winner.  He passed through, survived the ordeal, and came unharmed out of the terrible fight.  He was twenty-seven years of age.  He signed his name to a petition to the General Court, in 1685, as having gone in the expedition from Salem Village, and as then living there.  Some years afterwards, he removed to Middleborough, joined the church in that place in 1722, and died in 1725.  The fact that his last years were spent there has led to the supposition that he went from Middleborough to the Narragansett fight; but no men were drafted into that army from Middleborough.  It was not a town at the time, but was organized some years afterwards.  It had no inhabitants then.  Philip had destroyed what few houses had been there, and slaughtered or dispersed their occupants.