For anyone still enjoying the "purple" prose, I offer up this anecdote:
The Dutch laughed aside all warning from Albany, and carried their derision to the length of leaving the settlement gates open with two snowmen as mock sentinels.
The raiders slipped past the snowmen at the northern gate. Schenectady slept on. The raiders peeled off, left and right, until, between the palisades and the rows of silent houses stood ranks of French and Indians. And then the night silence was split with the screeching of the war whoops, the doors of the houses were burst open, the tomahawks came plunging down -- and the butchery began.
"No pen can write, and no tongue express, the cruelties that were committed," wrote Peter Schuyler. "The women bigg with Childe rip'd up, and the Children alive throwne into the flames, and their head dashed against the Doors and windows."
That last quote comes from Francis Parkman, Count Frontenac and new France under Louis XIV (Boston: Little, Brown, 1888), p. 214.
Edit: On a lark, I'd originally tried literally purple prose. It's unreadable.