"The horrors and devastation of Philip's war have no parallel in our history.  The Revolution was a struggle for freedom; the contest with Philip was for existence.  The war lasted only about fourteen months; and yet the towns of Brookfield, Lancaster, Marlborough, Medfield, Sudbury, Groton, Deerfield, Hatfield, Hadley, Northfield, Springfield, Weymouth, Chelmsford, Andover, Scituate, Bridgewater,  and several other places were wholly or partially destroyed, and many of the inhabitants were massacred or carried into captivity.  During this short period, six hundred of our brave men, the flower and strength of the Colony, had fallen, and six hundred dwelling houses were consumed.  Every eleventh family was houseless, and every eleventh soldier had sunk to his grave." Charles Hudson:  A History of Marlborough

Background:
That this devastating war did not occur until 1675, some fifty-five years after the Pilgrims arrived, is in itself somewhat surprising.   Were it not, perhaps, for the friendly and ever-faithful Sachem Massasoit, events may have taken an entirely different turn.  Ravaged by English borne diseases, deprived of their lands in language and interpretations they little understood, Philip (Metacomet) and his warriors came to believe that war was not among the alternatives, but the only one.  While the war Philip waged was savage and brutal,  It can also be said that it was no more so than the brutalities inflicted by the white man. Ironically, Native American intertribal conflicts, trading interests and warring would ultimately enhance the English position. 

The Pequot Massacre:

Exemplifying the white man's own capacity for cruelty was the famed Pequot Massacre. In May of 1635 the cry "Owanux! Owanux! (Englishmen, Englishmen) sealed the destiny of some five hundred men, women and children of the Pequout fort near New London, Connecticut  The attack, led by Capt. John Mason, together with his company of men and some five hundred Naragansetts was upon the Pequot palisade embracing some twenty acres.  Though originally wishing to destroy the Pequot within and saving their booty, it soon became apparent that this would be no easy task.   "We must burn them," declared Captain Mason and taking up a fire-brand, he initiated what would become a conflagration described as: 

"The  vast volume of flame, the lurid light reflected on the dark background of the horizon, the crack of the muskets, the yell of the Indians who fought, and those who sought vainly to fly, the wail of women and children as they writhed in the flames and the exulting cries of the Narragansetts and Mohegans without the fort, formed a contrast awful and sublime  with the quiet glories of the peaceful May morning that was just then breaking over the woods and the ocean."

The blaze consumed "alike the young warrior and the superannuated counselor, the squaw, and the little child that hung helplessly to her bosom.  Of all who were in the fort, only seven were taken captive and about the same number escaped."(NEHGR: 8:290+,1854, History of Connecticut, G. H. Hollister, Esq).

The Final Solution:
By 1675, it apparently became clear to Philip that it was do or die.  His father Massaoit was dead.  His brother, Wamsutta (alias Alexander), who succeeded Massasoit for but a brief time, was dead:  tradition has it, perhaps, by treachery.  He was now Sachem of the Wampanoag, but for what glory?  Diminished in numbers, land and honor, he was engaged in an increasingly hostile relationship with the colony leaders who in his mind had insulted, prevaricated against him and humiliated him and his people.   While some historians suggest that Philip remained neutral and his young warriors prevailed, the results were none the less disastrous: a war that terrorized and desiccated Native American and colonist alike.

The Wampanoags Attack
In a volley of ferocious and savage attacks, Philip and his warriors (later to include Nipmuks and Narragansetts) hit village after village.  First came Swansea in June of 1675.  Next came Mendon in July. Thereafter, no town felt immune from impending disaster, and, indeed, the fear became a nightmare as town after town was wholly or partially destroyed, its inhabitants killed, maimed, or carried into captivity.  In the now famous narrative of Mrs. Mary Rowlandson, a captive who survived, we gain a glimpse of these terrifying days (Indian Captivities, Or Life In the Wigwam, Samuel Drake, 1851):

On the tenth of February, 1676, came the Indians with great numbers (about 1500) upon Lancaster . . .  Another there was, who, running along, was shot and wounded and fell down; he begged of them his life, promising them money, as they told me, but they would not herken to him, but knocked him on the head, stripped him naked, and split open his bowels. . . No sooner were we out of the house, but my brother-in-law (being before wounded in defending the house, in or near the throat) fell down dead, whereat the Indians scornfully shouted and hollowed, and were presently upon him, stripping off his clothes.   The bullets flying thick, one went through my side, and the same, as would seem, through the bowels and hand of my poor child in my arms.  One of my elder sister's children, named William, had then his leg broke, which the Indians perceiving, they knocked him on the head . . . My eldest sister being yet in the house, and seeing those woful sights, the infidels halling mother one way and children another, and some wallowing in their blood . . . she said, "Lord let me die with them:" which was no sooner said but she was struck with a bullet and fell down dead over the threshold. . . Of thirty-seven persons who were in this one house, non escaped either present death, or a bitter captivity, save only one. . . There was one who was chopt in the head with a hatchet, and stript naked, and yet was crawling up and down.  It was a solemn sight to see so many Christians lying in their blood, some here and some there, like a company of sheep torn by wolves; all of them stript naked by a company of hell-hounds, roaring, singing, ranting and insulting as if they would have torn our very hearts out. . ."  

From Initial Success To A Bitter Death:

Though the Indian incursions were widespread and terrifying, the New England colonists soon developed a reasonably united front against Philip and his warriors.  Retribution, together with famine, disease and defection among his own and neighboring tribes soon diminished Philip's strength leaving him vulnerable and weakened. 

Lurking about Mount Hope, Philip, in one account, put one of his warriors to death for advising him to surrender.  The brother of the man, fearful for his own life, fled to the English and informed them of Philip's swamp camp. A Captain Church of Milton ultimately discovered, surrounded and rushed the camp. Philip fled, only to run into the arms of the enemy--an Englishman and Indian. The Englishman's gun misfired; however, the Indian sent a bullet through Philip's heart.   This, by tradition,  was the same Indian, Alderman, whose brother had been killed earlier by Phillip and the same who had led Captain Church to the encampment. 

Church ordered Philip to be beheaded and quartered. The Indian is said to have pronounced a warrior's eulogy: "You have been one very great man.  You have made many a man afraid of you.  But big as you be, I will now chop you up in little pieces."  Philip's head was carried to Plymouth, where it was said to be displayed for 25 years. His wife and son were said to be sold into slavery in the West Indies though accounts vary.  Those of Philip's entourage who survived or were suspected of duplicity were summarily hanged or disposed of.  No doubt as a preemptive measure, Captain Church and others set upon remaining Indian settlements    killing many of their people while disposing of their Sachems or Squaw Sachems. Servitude, slavery or death were the bitter rewards of insurrection.

In ensuing records we see the disposal of some surviving children as servants and the creation of "settlements" signed by Edw. Rawson, Secretary, and passed by the General Court.  These orders revoked all prior agreements with the Indians and provided a method by which the colonial magistrates sought to ensure that surviving Native Americans within their jurisdiction would henceforth cause no trouble.

Sources:
History of the Town of Marlborough, Charles Hudson, Boston, 1862
History of Essex County, Ipswich, D. Hamilton Hurd, Philadelphia, 1888.
Indian Captivities, Or Life In the Wigwam, Samuel Drake, 1851
Indian Children Put Into Service, NEHG Register, 8:270+, 1854
Notes on the Indian Wars in New England, NEHG Register, V15, 1861