Schenectady was then in the form of an oblong square, having a gate at each extremity. But as one of the gates only could be found, they all entered at that one. The gate was not only open, but was also unguarded. Although the town was impaled, and might have been protected, no one deemed it necessary to close the gate at night, presuming that the severity of the season was a sufficient security. The enemy divided themselves into several parties, and waylaid every portal, and then raised the war-whoop. It was between eleven and twelve o'clock on Saturday night, the 8th of February, when the fearful tragedy commenced. Maulet attacked a garrison, where the only resistance of any account was made. He soon forced the gate, and all the English were slaughtered, and the garrison burned. One of the French officers was wounded, in forcing a house, and thereby wholly disabled; but St. Helene having come to his assistance, the house was taken and all who had shut themselves in it were put to the sword. Nothing was now to be seen but massacre and pillage on every side. The most shocking barbarities were committed on the inhabitants. "Sixty-three houses and the church were immediately in a blaze. _Enciente_ women, in their expiring agonies, saw their infants cast into the flames, being first delivered by the knife of the midnight assassin. Sixty-three persons were murdered and twenty-seven were carried into captivity." A few persons were enabled to escape, but being without sufficient clothing, they lost their limbs from the severity of the cold, as they traveled towards Albany. About noon, the next day, the enemy left the desolated place, taking such plunder as they could carry with them, and destroying the remainder. It was designed, it seems, to spare the minister of the place, as Maulet wanted him as his own prisoner; but he was found among the mangled dead, and his papers burned. The houses of two or three individuals were spared, for particular reasons, while the rest were consigned to the flames. Owing to the state of the traveling, news of the massacre did not reach the great Mohawk castle, seventeen miles distant, until at the expiration of two days. On the reception of the news, a party commenced a pursuit of the foe. After a tedious route, they fell upon their rear, killed and took twenty-five of them, and effected some other damage.