Silence filled the Puritan meeting hall where we sat: men, women, and children, gathered for a day of prayer and fasting. Hidden from sight, but near at hand, some of we men brought rifles to our worship service.
As a small frontier town at New Haven, we had learned the danger of being ill-prepared during the Indian wars. A chief, called King Philip, and his warriors had already attacked several colonial outposts without warning.
At first, it sounded like distant birds, cawing in the trees. The clamor built until wild war cries filled the forest, striking fear into every heart within the building. We were under attack.
Women’s shrieks and wide-eyed children’s weeping joined the shouts from the men to prepare for battle. I grabbed my gun, but chaos reigned as we stumbled over each other. We faltered, not knowing where to position our firearms. Desperate expressions twisted the brave faces scattered around the room.
As complete annihilation seemed certain, many heads bowed and fervent prayers lifted.
Then, in the mire of confusion, a stranger appeared in the midst of the madness. Tall, with white hair and brandishing a sword, his stately bearing spoke of authority. At once, he took charge, issuing orders and arranging us for battle. With his direction, we repelled the Indian attack without any loss of life.
In the same way he had appeared, the stranger vanished.
With no logical explanation, and not caring if there was one, we believe God sent an angel to protect us. We call him the Angel of Hadley.
But was he an angel? Find out how "Judges Cave" (above) plays into the tale. Dig deeper.
Suicides plagued this 1868 St. Louis mansion and now ghosts haunt its visitors.
Where’s the Mystery? Any guesses? Leave a comment.