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diff --git a/.gitattributes b/.gitattributes new file mode 100644 index 0000000..d7b82bc --- /dev/null +++ b/.gitattributes @@ -0,0 +1,4 @@ +*.txt text eol=lf +*.htm text eol=lf +*.html text eol=lf +*.md text eol=lf diff --git a/LICENSE.txt b/LICENSE.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..6312041 --- /dev/null +++ b/LICENSE.txt @@ -0,0 +1,11 @@ +This eBook, including all associated images, markup, improvements, +metadata, and any other content or labor, has been confirmed to be +in the PUBLIC DOMAIN IN THE UNITED STATES. + +Procedures for determining public domain status are described in +the "Copyright How-To" at https://www.gutenberg.org. + +No investigation has been made concerning possible copyrights in +jurisdictions other than the United States. Anyone seeking to utilize +this eBook outside of the United States should confirm copyright +status under the laws that apply to them. diff --git a/README.md b/README.md new file mode 100644 index 0000000..6feb674 --- /dev/null +++ b/README.md @@ -0,0 +1,2 @@ +Project Gutenberg (https://www.gutenberg.org) public repository for +eBook #60506 (https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/60506) diff --git a/old/60506-0.txt b/old/60506-0.txt deleted file mode 100644 index c7b46a3..0000000 --- a/old/60506-0.txt +++ /dev/null @@ -1,5712 +0,0 @@ -The Project Gutenberg EBook of Powhatan; A Metrical Romance, in Seven -Cantos, by Seba Smith - -This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with -almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or -re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included -with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org/license - - -Title: Powhatan; A Metrical Romance, in Seven Cantos - -Author: Seba Smith - -Release Date: October 16, 2019 [EBook #60506] - -Language: English - -Character set encoding: UTF-8 - -*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK POWHATAN *** - - - - -Produced by Tim Lindell, Chuck Greif and the Online -Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net (This -file was produced from images generously made available -by The Internet Archive/American Libraries.) - - - - - - - - - - POWHATAN; - - A METRICAL ROMANCE, - - IN SEVEN CANTOS. - - - BY SEBA SMITH. - - - “He cometh to you with a tale, that holdeth children from - play and old men from the chimney-corner.”--_Sir Philip Sidney._ - - - NEW-YORK: - HARPER & BROTHERS, CLIFF-STREET. - 1841. - - - Entered, according to Act of Congress, in the year 1841, by - HARPER & BROTHERS, - In the Clerk’s Office of the Southern District of New-York. - - Stereotyped by - RICHARD C. VALENTINE, - 45 Gold-street. - - - - - TO THE - YOUNG PEOPLE OF THE UNITED STATES, - - IN THE HOPE THAT HE MAY DO SOME GOOD IN HIS DAY AND GENERATION, - BY ADDING SOMETHING TO THE SOURCES OF RATIONAL - ENJOYMENT AND MENTAL CULTURE, - - THIS VOLUME IS RESPECTFULLY INSCRIBED - - BY THE AUTHOR. - - - - -PREFACE. - - -“Poetry is a mere drug,” say the publishers; “bring us no more poetry, -it won’t sell.” - -“Poetry is a terrible bore,” say a majority of the dear public; “it is -too high-flown; we can’t understand it.” - -To all this, we are tempted to reply in the language of doctor Abernethy -to one of his patients. The good old lady, when the doctor entered the -room, raised her arm to her head, and drawing her face into a very -painful expression, exclaimed, “Oh, oh! O dear, Doctor, it almost kills -me to lift my arm up so; what shall I do?” - -“Well, madam,” said the doctor, gravely, “then you must be a very great -fool to lift your arm up so.” - -Leaving the reader to make the application, we hasten to deny the -premises assumed by the publishers and a portion of the public. What -they say, is not true of _poetry_; it is in direct contradiction to the -experience of the world in all ages and all nations, for thousands of -years. But it may be true, and _is_ true, of endless masses of words -that are poured forth from the press under the _name_ of poetry. But we -do not believe, that genuine poetry, that which is worthy of the name, -is either “a drug,” or “too high-flown” to be enjoyed and understood by -the mass of the reading public. - - “The budding twigs spread out their fan, - To catch the breezy air; - And I must think, do all I can, - That there was pleasure there.” - -Poetry like that, will always find readers and admirers among all -classes, whether high or low, rich or poor, learned or unlearned. True -poetry is the unsophisticated language of nature--so plain and simple, -that he that runs may read. In proof of this, it is found, that among -the writings of popular authors, those poems most marked for simple and -natural language, other things being equal, are always the most popular. -There must be taste and judgment in the selection of subjects, for many -subjects are in their nature unsuited to the true spirit of poetry. - -The author of Powhatan does not presume to claim for his production the -merit of good and genuine poetry; nor does he pretend to assign it a -place in the classes or forms into which poetry is divided. He has -chosen to call it a metrical romance, as a title of less pretension than -that of poem; and he is perfectly willing that others should call it by -whatever name they please. Whatever may be its faults, they must rest -solely upon the author. They cannot be chargeable to the subject, for -that is full of interest, and dignity, and poetry. Nor can they be -palliated by the plea of hasty composition; for he has had the work on -his hands at intervals for several years, though to be sure something -more than half of it has been written within the year past. Of one thing -the author feels confident; but whether it may be regarded as adding to, -or detracting from, the merit of the work, he knows not; he believes it -would be difficult to find a poem that embodies more truly the spirit of -history, or indeed that follows out more faithfully many of its details. -Of the justness of this remark, some evidence may be found in the notes -attached to the work. - -Finally, with regard to its merits, the test by which the author desires -to be tried, is the common taste of _common readers_. If _they_ shall -read it with pleasure, and if the impression made by its perusal shall -induce them to recur to it again with renewed delight, he will care -little for the rules by which critics may judge it, but will find -satisfaction in the assurance that he has added something honorable to -the literature of his country. - - _New York, January, 1841._ - - - - -SKETCH OF THE CHARACTER OF POWHATAN. - - As Powhatan may be regarded as the most prominent personage in the - poem, the author has thought proper to give the following - well-drawn sketch of his character a place at the commencement of - the work, rather than among the notes at the end. It is extracted - from Burk’s “History of Virginia,” and will serve to show that - grave and sober history assigns to the Indian chieftain a rank no - less elevated and dignified than is given him in the following - poem. - - -“The greater part of his life was passed in what is generally termed -glory and good fortune. In the cant of civilization, he will doubtless -be branded with the epithets of tyrant and barbarian. But his title to -greatness, although his opportunities were fewer, is to the full as fair -as that of Tamerlane or Kowli Khan, and several others, whom history has -immortalized as conquerors; while the proofs of his tyranny are by no -means so clear and unequivocal. - -“Born to a slender patrimony, in the midst of numerous tribes more -subtle than the Arabs of the desert, and whose independence spurned even -the shadow of restraint, he contrived, by his valor and address, to -unite them in one firm and indissoluble union, under his power and -authority; giving his name to the new empire which his wisdom had -erected, and which continued to flourish under his auspices and -direction. - -“As a warrior, bold, skilful, and enterprising, he was confessedly -without rival or competitor; inspiring with respect or terror even the -formidable enemies who dared to make head against his encroachments. The -powerful confederacy of the Manakins and Manahoacks, and the more -distant inhabitants of the lakes, heard the name of Powhatan with -uneasiness and alarm. - -“At the coming of the English he had reached the advanced age of sixty -years, and enjoyed in the bosom of his family the fruits of his long and -glorious exertions. The spectacle of men who came from beyond the sea, -in floating and winged houses, and who fought with thunder and -lightnings, could not fail to strike him by its grandeur and novelty. -The intent of the strangers appeared, at first view, to be friendly; and -he received them with courtesy. But his sagacious mind quickly developed -the motives, and foresaw the consequences, of their arrival. He looked -forward with regret to a renewal of his labors; and, at the age of -sixty, he resolved to fight over again the battles of his youth. He -might have lived in peace. He was aware of the superiority of his new -enemy in the machines and instruments of battle, as well as in their -discipline and experience; but these cold calculations vanished before -his sense of honor and independence. Age could not chill the ardor of -his heroic bosom. - -“In the private circle of his family, who appears to greater advantage -than Powhatan?--what affection for his brothers! how delicate and -considerate his regard for his children! what moderation and pity does -he not manifest towards Captain Smith, when, subdued by the tears of -Pocahontas, and touched, perhaps, with compassion for the bravery and -misfortunes of his captive, he consented to spare his life! - -“Powhatan comes before us without any of those mortifying and abasing -circumstances which, in the eye of human respect, diminish the lustre of -reputation. History records no violence offered to his person; no -insulting language used in his presence. Opechancanough had been dragged -by the hair, at the head of hundreds of Indians; but never had the -majesty of Powhatan been violated by personal insult. - -“In all disputes and conferences with the English, he never once forgets -that he is a monarch; never permits others to forget it. ‘If your king,’ -said he to Smith, ‘has sent me presents, _I too am a king, and I am in -my own land_.’ No matter who the person is whom the partiality of the -historian may think proper to distinguish as his hero; we never lose -sight of the manly figure and venerable majesty of the Indian hero. He -is always the principal figure in the group; and in his presence, even -the gallant and adventurous Smith is obliged to play a second part; and -all others are forgotten. - -“Owing to that obscurity in which, unhappily, every thing relating to -this people is involved, we know little of the dawn of Powhatan’s -glory--little of his meridian. Those particular traits which would have -enabled us accurately to estimate the character and capacity of his -mind, have felt the fate of oral record and remembrance. The exploits of -his youth and his manhood have perished, for the want of a poet or -historian. We saw him only for a short time, on the edge of the -horizon; but, from the brightness of his departing beams, we can easily -think what he was in the blaze of his fame. - -“If we view him as a statesman, a character which has been thought to -demand a greater comprehension and variety of talents, where shall we -find one who merited in a higher degree the palm of distinction and -eminence? ’Tis true the theatre of his administration was neither wide -nor conspicuous. He is not set off by the splendid machinery of palaces -and courtiers, glittering with gold and precious stones; or the costly -equipage of dress. He had no troops in rich uniform; he had no treasury; -he maintained no ambassadors at foreign courts. Powhatan must be viewed -as he stands in relation to the several Indian nations of Virginia. To -judge him by European ideas of greatness would be the climax of -injustice and absurdity.” - - - - -PROEM. - - - There’s a warrior race of a hardy form, - Who are fearless in peril, and reckless of storm; - Who are seen on the mountains when wintry winds blow, - And, in midsummer’s blaze, in the valleys below-- - Their home is the forest, the earth is their bed, - And the theme of their boast is the blood they have shed; - With a spirit unbroken by famine or toil, - They traverse the rivers and woods for their spoil; - With a soul that no terrors of nature appal, - They dance on the verge of the cataract’s fall; - They chase the huge crocodile home to the fen, - They rob the wild bear of the cubs in her den, - They weary the deer in her rapidest flight, - And they sleep with the wolf on the mountain’s height. - - Yet the gentle affections have found an abode - In these wild and dark bosoms, wherever they dwell; - And nature has all the soft passions bestow’d - On her favorite children of mountain and dell. - Though they fall on a foe with a tiger’s fangs, - And joy and exult in his keenest pangs, - The least act of kindness they never forget, - And the sin of ingratitude ne’er stain’d them yet. - They weep o’er the graves of their valiant dead, - And piously reverence the aged head; - Of parent and child feel the tenderest ties, - And the pure light of love glances warm from their eyes. - - But the warrior race is fading away; - The day of their prowess and glory is past; - They are scathed like a grove where the lightnings play, - They are scatter’d like leaves by the tempest blast. - They must perish from earth with the deeds they have done; - Already the pall of oblivion descends, - Enshrouding the tribes from our view, one by one, - And time o’er the straggling remnants bends, - And sweeps them away with a hurried pace, - Still sounding the knell of the warrior race. - - A vision is passing before me now-- - The deeds of their chieftains come full on my sight, - And maidens of mildness and beauty bow, - As they faintly appear in the dim distant light. - That vision is fading--now fainter it seems-- - Like a cloud on the wind, it recedes from the view-- - And is there no power to rekindle its beams? - No pencil to picture its form and its hue? - O, spirit of poesy, parent of song, - Thou alone canst the light of that vision prolong; - Then let it descend to a distant age, - Embodied forth on thy deathless page. - - - - -CANTO FIRST. - - -I. - - The monarch rested from his toils, - Weary of war, and full of spoils. - His hatchet slept; his bow, unstrung - And shaftless, in his cabin hung; - His tomahawk was in the ground, - The wild war-whoop had ceased to sound, - And thirty chieftains, tall and proud, - To his imperial sceptre bow’d. - Far in their mountain lurking-place - The Manakins had heard his fame,{1} - And Manahocks dared not come down - His valleys to pursue their game; - And Susquehannah’s giant race,{2} - Who feared to meet no other man, - Would tremble in their fastnesses - To hear the name of Powhatan.[A] - From the broad James’s winding side - To smooth Potomac’s broader tide, - From Chesapeake’s surf-beaten shore - To where the mountain torrents roar, - His powerful sway had been confess’d, - And thirty tribes one monarch bless’d.{3} - - -II. - - The time-spared oak, that lifts its head - In loneliness, where those are dead, - Which once stood by it on the plain, - Soon sees their places fill’d again-- - So stood the monarch, full of years, - Amid an undergrowth of men; - For since the sceptre first he sway’d, - Full two score years ago and ten, - Two generations had gone by, - And twice he’d seen his people die. - Yet from his eye there beam’d a fire, - Resistless as the warrior’s lance; - And when ’twas lit with vengeful ire, - The boldest wither’d at its glance. - And still his step was quick and light, - And still his arm was nerved with might, - And still ’twas death to all, who dare - Awake the vengeance slumbering there. - But now with joy the monarch view’d - His realm in peace, his foes subdued, - And calmly turn’d abroad his eyes - O’er the wide work of warfare done, - And hoped no coming cloud would rise - To shroud in gloom his setting sun. - - -III. - - Deep in a sea of waving wood{4} - The monarch’s rustic lodge was seen, - Where brightly roll’d the river down, - And gently sloped the banks of green. - No princely dome that lodge appear’d, - No tall and shapely columns rear’d - Their finished architraves on high, - With cornice mounting to the sky; - No foreign artist’s skilful hand - Had shed Corinthian graces there: - That simple dwelling had been plann’d - By workmen under nature’s care. - The sun by day, or moon by night, - Had never sent a ray of light - Upon a lovelier spot than this, - Or seen a home of purer bliss. - Beneath the tall elms’ branching shade - The eye might reach a fairy glade, - Where sprightly deer were often seen, - In frolic sport, on plats of green, - From morning’s dawn till noontide heat - Invited to some cool retreat; - Then away to the sheltering grove they fled - With a high-curved neck and a lofty tread. - Beside the open glade there grew - Green clustering oaks, and maples tall, - Forming a native bower, whose view - Was more enchanting far than all - The stiff embellishments of art, - That human culture could impart - To garden, grot, or waterfall. - Within that bower a fountain, gushing, - Babbled sweetly all the day, - And round it many a wild-flower, blushing, - Drank the morning dew of May. - - -IV. - - But one sweet floweret flourish’d there, - Beneath the aged monarch’s care, - Whose bloom that happy bower had bless’d - With brighter charms than all the rest. - ’Twas his loved daughter--she had been - The comfort of his widowhood - For twelve long years; through grove and glen - She roam’d with him the pathless wood, - And wheresoe’er that old man hied, - Fair Metoka[B] was ever at his side. - She was the gem of her father’s home, - The pride and joy of his forest cell; - And if alone she chanced to roam - To pluck the rose and gay hairbell, - The rudest savage stopp’d and smiled, - Whene’er he met the monarch’s child. - - -V. - - Mild was the air, and the setting rays - Of the ruddy sun now seem’d to blaze - On many a tree-top’s lofty spire, - When May-day’s tranquil evening hour - Beheld the daughter and the sire - Together in their summer bower. - - -VI. - - ‘Come hither, child,’ the monarch said, - ‘And set thee down by me, - ‘And I’ll tell thee of thy mother dead, - ‘Fair sprout of that parent tree. - ‘Twelve suns ago she fell asleep, - ‘And she never awoke again; - ‘And thou wast then too young to weep, - ‘Or to share thy father’s pain. - ‘But wouldst thou know thy mother’s look, - ‘When her form was young and fair, - ‘Look down upon the tranquil brook, - ‘And thou’lt see her picture there. - ‘For her own bright locks of flowing jet - ‘Are over thy shoulders hung; - ‘In thy face her loving eyes are set, - ‘And her music is on thy tongue. - ‘But Okee call’d her home to rest, - ‘And away her spirit flew, - ‘Dancing on sunbeams far to the west, - ‘Where the mountain tops are blue. - ‘And often at sunset hour she strolls - ‘Alone on the mountains wild, - ‘And beckons me home to the land of souls, - ‘And calls for her darling child. - ‘And I am an aged sapless tree, - ‘That soon must fall to the plain; - ‘And then shall my spirit, light and free, - ‘Rejoin thy mother again. - ‘And thou, my child’--But here a sigh - Had reach’d the aged chieftain’s ear; - He turn’d, and lo, his daughter’s eye - Was beaming through a trembling tear, - And she was looking in his face - With such a tender, earnest grace, - The monarch clasp’d her to his side, - And thus her childish lips replied. - - -VII. - - ‘Oh, do not say thou must be gone, - ‘And leave thy daughter here alone, - ‘Like some poor solitary bird, - ‘To live unseen and mourn unheard. - ‘Who will be left for me to love? - ‘And who will lead me through the grove? - ‘And when sweet, fresh-blown flowers I find, - ‘Around whose brow shall they be twined? - ‘And who, when evening comes along, - ‘Will sit and hear my evening song, - ‘And smile, and praise the simple strain, - ‘And kiss my cheek, and smile again? - ‘The sun would never more be bright, - ‘Joyless would pass the darksome night, - ‘The merry groves and murmuring stream - ‘Would all so sad and lonely seem, - ‘That I could here no longer stay, - ‘And thou in the spirit-land away.’ - - -VIII. - - Then Powhatan, to sooth to rest - His daughter’s agitated breast, - Bethought to make some kind reply, - When sudden toward the east his eye - Caught the glimpse of a warrior form: - Swift as an eagle wings the storm, - He sweeps along the far hill-side, - Dimly mid dusky woods descried. - Uprose the monarch nimbly then, - And sternly sent his eagle ken - Through opening grove and o’er the glen, - And watch’d the form that now drew near, - Bounding along, like a mountain deer. - He marvell’d if the warrior came - With foeman’s brand to light the flame - Of ruthless war; for sure his speed - Might well portend a foeman’s deed. - But as he gain’d an open height, - That mark’d him clearer to the sight-- - ‘I know him now,’ the monarch said, - ‘By his robe of blue and belt of red; - ‘He bears a quiver and a bow, - ‘His plume is a raven wing--{5} - ‘Our brother, Opechancanough,[C] - ‘Pamunky’s wily king.’ - As summer breezes, quick and strong, - Hurry a fleecy cloud along, - We see the shadow softly creep, - Fast as the following eye can sweep, - Darkening blade, and bough, and leaf, - O’er grassy mead and woody dell; - So flew that raven-crested chief, - And reach’d the monarch’s cell. - And now the day is closing in, - And one by one the stars begin, - Around an unbeclouded sky, - To hang their glittering lamps on high; - Chilly and damp the night dews fall, - And brightly in the monarch’s hall - The evening torches glow; - Thither the royal group repair, - The monarch sage, the daughter fair, - And princely Opechancanough. - Mutely the monarch eyed his guest, - For on his brow there seem’d impress’d - A more disturb’d and ruffled air - Than e’er before had mantled there. - At length with questions, few and brief, - He gravely thus address’d the chief. - - -IX. - - ‘What tidings, brave Pamunky’s king, - ‘Dost thou to our high presence bring? - ‘What tribe has dared to hurl the brand - ‘Of rebel war across our land? - ‘Have traitorous warriors dipp’d in gore - ‘The tomahawk, and rashly swore - ‘The peace-tree’s leaves are struck with blight, - ‘And they will drink our blood to-night? - ‘Or have the Manakins conspired - ‘With the fierce nations of the west, - ‘By the vain hope of conquest fired, - ‘Our sceptre from our hands to wrest, - ‘And from their mountain homes come down - ‘To meet the vengeance of our frown? - ‘For by the swiftness of thy flight, - ‘And by the lateness of the night, - ‘And by thy darken’d brow, ’ -tis clear - ‘Thou’rt on no common errand here; - ‘And be it wo, or be it weal, - ‘Thy message, warrior, now reveal.’ - - -X. - - ‘Whether weal or wo betide,’ - He of the raven plume replied, - ‘Or whether war or death be near, - ‘Monarch, I neither know nor fear. - ‘My soul ne’er trembled at the sight - ‘Of foeman yet in bloodiest fight, - ‘Though many a chief, in battle slain, - ‘This arm has stretch’d upon the plain. - ‘And in thy conflict’s darkest hour, - ‘Who rush’d amid the arrowy shower, - ‘And met the foremost of the foe, - ‘So oft as Opechancanough? - ‘And though my nerves may tremble now, - ‘And looks of terror clothe my brow, - ‘Yet I protest, and may great Okee[D] hear, - ‘These signs, that in my looks are blent, - ‘Are marks of wild astonishment, - ‘But not the work of fear. - ‘And wouldst thou know what makes me pale, - ‘Monarch, listen to my tale. - - -XI. - - ‘Soon as the morning sun was seen - ‘On bright Pamunky’s banks of green, - ‘The silent groves, where sleep the deer, - ‘Waked with our hunters’ merry cheer. - ‘With echoing whoop and loud halloo - ‘We startled soon a nimble doe; - ‘And forth she sprang from her darksome lair, - ‘And tossing high her head in air, - ‘With springing bound, and forward flight, - ‘Was soon again beyond our sight. - ‘But still, as fleetly on she flew, - ‘From hill to hill we caught a view, - ‘Nor lost her course, till on the shore - ‘Where Chesapeake’s white surges roar, - ‘We stood--and saw a sight display’d, - ‘That fill’d us with amaze; - ‘The deer unhunted sought the shade, - ‘And we were left to gaze. - ‘Spirits that dart athwart the sky, - ‘When forked lightnings gleam and fly; - ‘And gods that thunder in the air, - ‘And cleave the oak and kill the bear; - ‘And beings that control the deep, - ‘Where crocodiles and serpents sleep; - ‘And powers that on the mountains stand, - ‘With storm and tempest in their hand; - ‘And forms that ride on cloudy cars, - ‘And sail among the midnight stars;-- - ‘The whole dread group that move in might, - ‘Unless some spell deceived our sight, - ‘We surely saw in league to-day - ‘On the bright bosom of the bay. - ‘Whether for sport, in social mood, - ‘They met to sail upon the flood; - ‘Or bent on deeds of high design, - ‘They sought their forces to combine; - ‘Whether they came to blast or bless, - ‘We did not learn, nor could we guess. - ‘Their shallop was a stately thing, - ‘And gaily moved in lofty pride, - ‘Like a mountain eagle on the wing, - ‘Or swan upon the river tide. - ‘And three tall spires the shallop bore, - ‘That tower’d above our forest trees, - ‘And each a blood-red streamer wore, - ‘That floated idly on the breeze. - ‘And thrice in awful majesty - ‘They sail’d across that deep, broad bay; - ‘And as they turn’d from either shore, - ‘We heard the heavy thunders roar, - ‘And saw the lightnings flashing wide - ‘From out their mammoth shallop’s side; - ‘And then a cloud of smoky hue - ‘Around her waist arose to view; - ‘And rolling on the wind away, - ‘It floated slowly down the bay. - ‘And while in ambush near the beach - ‘We watch’d the course the shallop took, - ‘She came within an arrow’s reach; - ‘And then it seem’d as though she shook - ‘Her white wings, like a hovering bird - ‘That stoops to light upon a spray; - ‘And sounds of voices now were heard, - ‘But motionless the shallop lay. - ‘And then a little skiff was seen, - ‘And some were paddling toward the shore; - ‘Their form was human, but their mein - ‘Semblance of higher lineage bore; - ‘And one might read upon their face - ‘Pale proofs of an unearthly race. - ‘And when they brought their skiff to land, - ‘They knelt them down upon the sand - ‘Of that smooth beach; and on the sky - ‘They fix’d a thoughtful, gazing eye, - ‘And long they look’d, and long they knelt, - ‘And loud they talk’d, as though there dwelt - ‘Some viewless spirits above their head, - ‘Who listen’d to the words they said. - ‘And when they rose from bended knee, - ‘They stood beneath a birchen tree, - ‘And tore up a turf, and a branch they broke, - ‘And utter’d strange and uncouth names; - ‘But all we learn’d, of the words they spoke, - ‘Was “England and King James.” - ‘Then back as they came we saw them glide - ‘O’er the rippling wave in their painted skiff, - ‘And they clomb up the mammoth shallop’s side, - ‘That darken’d the wave like a mountain cliff. - ‘And soon she was moving away on the flood, - ‘Like a cloud which the mountain breezes fan, - ‘And with wings of white and streamers of blood, - ‘She bent her course to Kecoughtan.[E] - ‘Then up the wave that bears thy name - ‘Along by the winding shore she swept; - ‘And crouching low, as if for game, - ‘Through thickets watchfully we crept; - ‘Till by that jutting point of land, - ‘Where the weary waters lingering go, - ‘And Paspahey’s[F] tall forests stand, - ‘And their shadows on the eddy throw, - ‘We saw that shallop moor’d and still, - ‘And a throng so awful lined the shore, - ‘The very blood in our veins run chill. - ‘No longer we staid, nor witness’d more, - ‘But fled, great werowance,[G] to thee, - ‘To make this strange adventure known; - ‘For warriors brave, and subjects free, - ‘And courage, and power, are all thine own. - ‘The thoughts that in thy bosom flow, - ‘Monarch, now bring before the light; - ‘Thy will and counsel I would know, - ‘But I may not tarry here to-night, - ‘For back to Pamunky my hunters have gone, - ‘And I must be there by the morning’s dawn.’ - - -XII. - - Thus spoke Pamunky’s wily king; - The torch-light high was flickering; - On Powhatan’s stern face it gleams, - But from his eye shot fiercer beams, - That told the fire, which vigor lit - In his day of strength, was burning yet. - The monarch rose in musing mood, - And silent for a moment stood, - Wrapp’d in himself, as though he sought - To grasp some hidden, vanish’d thought, - Which, rayless, vague, and undefined, - Still seems to flit before the mind, - A form unseen--But now a glow - Of animation rose, as though - That vanish’d thought in brightness broke - At once upon his view; and then, - Turning toward his guest again, - Thus to the chief he spoke. - - -XIII. - - ‘Brother, a mist is round my head, - ‘And darkness in my path is spread; - ‘Thy tale is like the clouds of night; - ‘My thoughts are stars that shed no light; - ‘And much I marvel what may mean - ‘This wondrous vision thou hast seen. - ‘That pale-face throng, with forms like ours, - ‘Are not the band of secret powers, - ‘Which thou hast fancied them to be; - ‘This would not solve the mystery, - ‘For spirits of fire and spirits of flood - ‘Are foes that seek each other’s blood. - ‘My thoughts are bent another way; - ‘I hear a voice, that seems to say, - ‘They are but men, perchance, who seek, - ‘Along the shores of Chesapeake, - ‘To plant a tree whose roots shall spread, - ‘Broad and deep as that ocean bed, - ‘And whose tall branches shall expand, - ‘Till they o’ershadow all the land. - ‘I hear a voice that says, _beware_, - ‘Or thou wilt tread upon a snare; - ‘There is a way thou must not pass, - ‘A serpent lieth in the grass; - ‘There is a fountain thou must shun, - ‘For streams of poison from it run; - ‘There is a shade thou must not seek, - ‘For round it plays the lightning streak. - ‘I hear a voice in whispers low, - ‘That speaks of carnage, death, and wo, - ‘Of injured rights and ruthless power, - ‘And tempest-clouds, which soon shall lower:-- - ‘Some pestilence infects the air; - ‘I hear a voice that says, _beware_. - ‘Hast thou not heard our fathers tell - ‘What once, in ages past, befell - ‘Our race, what time Missouri’s tide - ‘Beheld them sporting by its side? - ‘While they in fearless quiet slept, - ‘A secret foe among them crept, - ‘And, ere they dream’d of coming scath, - ‘Had wellnigh struck the blow of death. - ‘Harmless at first he seem’d to be, - ‘And weak as helpless infancy; - ‘His face was bright with friendship’s smile, - ‘But in his heart was blackest guile; - ‘And soon to giant strength he grew, - ‘And thunderbolts around him threw, - ‘And many a death and many a wound - ‘Among our sires he dealt around, - ‘And drove them from their peaceful home, - ‘Through forests deep and wild to roam. - ‘But o’er his head a murky cloud - ‘Came down upon him as a shroud, - ‘And vengeance seized upon her prey - ‘And hid him from the light of day. - ‘The stubborn oak that stood in pride, - ‘And all the thunderer’s wrath defied, - ‘By one red lightning stroke was riven, - ‘Like mist before the tempest driven. - ‘The tribes collected in their might, - ‘To glut themselves with wreakful fight, - ‘And swift their darts of bloody vengeance hurl’d, - ‘And Madoc and his host were wither’d from the world.{6} - ‘Some race of men like these, I ween, - ‘Those beings are, which thou hast seen; - ‘And something whispers in my ear, - ‘Those beings must not linger here. - ‘And, chieftain, list now what I say; - ‘Hear my direction, and obey. - ‘When first to-morrow’s golden light - ‘Beams on the sable brow of night, - ‘What time the wild-birds wake the glen, - ‘Collect thy wisest, bravest men, - ‘And with them straight to Paspahey repair, - ‘And learn both who and whence these strange intruders are. - ‘Unto their pale-face leader show{7} - ‘The pipe of peace and warlike bow;’ - ‘Nor fail withal to let them plainly know, - ‘We’ve calumets for friends, and arrows for a foe.’ - - -XIV. - - Here paused the sage, and waved his hand, - The fiat of his high command-- - ‘Monarch, thy will shall be obey’d,’ - Was all the plumed chieftain said, - As round his brawny limbs he drew{8} - His feathery mantle, broad and blue, - And left the hall with lofty mein, - Plunged in the grove, nor more was seen. - - -END OF CANTO FIRST. - - - - -CANTO SECOND. - - -I. - - Softly and light the moonbeams fell - Upon that forest-cinctur’d cell, - Whose wicker walls were mottled brown - Where shadows of the trees came down, - And gently moved and quiver’d there, - Like spirits dancing in the air. - A stout and trusty guard was placed{9} - Around the lodge, whose hands embraced - The battle-axe or bended bow, - Ready to meet a coming foe; - And silent as the stars of night - They watch’d from dusk till dawning light. - Hush’d were the echoes of the grove, - Where feeding deer in quiet rove; - The softly whispering zephyr’s breath - Came by with a stillness next to death, - And silence hover’d with noiseless wing - Over the monarch slumbering. - Slept Powhatan? Why think it strange? - Terror in him could work no change; - For he had seen too much of life - To heed the approach of toil or strife; - In perilous vicissitude grown old, - He now could calmly rest though thunders round him roll’d. - - -II. - - But o’er the monarch’s child, in vain, - Sleep sought to hold her wonted reign. - With active thought she ponder’d o’er - The plumed chieftain’s evening lore, - Till half it seem’d before her view - Appear’d the strange unearthly crew; - And that wild tale on her had wrought such power, - That she with sleepless eye had pass’d the midnight hour. - Forth in her airy summer dress, - With footsteps light and echoless, - All-unperceived she left the cell, - By servant, sire, or sentinel. - In such divine apparel seem’d - That lovely night, you would have deem’d - It had its bridal vesture on - To wait and wed the coming dawn. - Its moonlight robe flow’d rich and free, - Thick set with star-embroidery, - And round the earth and o’er the sky - Hung like a garb of Deity. - The pageant of that glorious night - Might well be gazed on with delight, - But still the loveliest object there - Was that lone maiden, young and fair, - Gliding abroad at such an hour, - By forest tree and summer bower. - On the distant groves of Paspahey - Her eye was brightly turn’d, - And to be where that land in dimness lay - Her bosom as warmly burn’d. - What though the way was lonely and far? - The dread of the stilly night, - Nor dark morass, had power to bar - That maiden’s romantic flight; - And when from the east the azure tide - Of day came over the wild, - There stood alone by the river side - The monarch’s artless child. - And she was gazing in wild surprise - On a barque majestic and proud, - Whose masts appear’d, to her wondering eyes, - High towering up to the vaulty skies, - And as deep in the waters bow’d. - - -III. - - Not long she gazed on those masts so tall, - And that ship so gallant and trim, - For a hero’s form eclipsed them all, - And her eyes were fix’d on him. - And peering forth from a friendly screen - Of spruce and darkling fir, - She plainly beheld the stranger’s mein, - But the stranger saw not her. - With martial cap and coat of red, - And bright sword at his side, - He paced the deck with a princely tread, - And the dark woods calmly eyed. - But soon o’er forest, glade, and stream - Darted the sun’s bright morning beam, - And, glancing through her sheltering tree, - Awoke that maiden’s revery. - She started, for ’ -twas now the hour - When Opechancanough would come, - And thrice in haste she left the bower - To trace her pathless journey home; - But thrice return’d, she knew not why, - And, lingering, look’d with soul-lit eye - Upon that stranger still; - Nor wist she what should make a sigh - Her throbbing bosom fill. - But hark! a voice is on the breeze, - The raven-crested chief is near, - And, moving through the distant trees, - His train of warriors now appear; - And like a wild and startled fawn, - Lightly that forest child has gone, - Through dark morass, and grove, and glen, - To seek her father’s home again. - - -IV. - - At dawning Powhatan arose - From calm and undisturb’d repose, - And when his brief repast was done - He summon’d forth his valiant son, - Dark Nantaquas, of manly form, - And soul with native courage warm, - So nimble of foot and stout of limb, - That few could wrestle or run with him. - ‘List, Nantaquas--hear our command; - ‘Take bow and hatchet in thy hand, - ‘And a full quiver at thy back, - ‘Lest foes may chance to cross thy track, - ‘And haste thee to our chieftains all, - ‘And each unto our council call. - ‘Call Chesapeakes and Nansamonds, - ‘And broad Potomac’s warlike sons, - ‘And rouse the chiefs of every clan, - ‘From Orapakes to Kecoughtan.’ - Fleet Nantaquas his sire obey’d, - And, in his warrior arms array’d, - His quiver over his shoulders threw, - And away on the wings of morning flew. - - -V. - - Now Powhatan, in musing mood, - Abroad upon the hill-side stood; - Deep thoughts in his stern bosom burn’d, - His eyes toward Paspahey were turn’d, - Watching each quivering tree and bird, - As if mysterious foes had stirr’d - His calm old woods, where he had reign’d - For years, despotic, unrestrain’d, - And none had dared, or friend or foe, - Against his will to come or go. - His left hand clasp’d his bow new-strung, - His hatchet from his belt was hung, - Keen shafts his wolf-skin quiver press’d, - And on his war-club lean’d his breast. - Sudden a form glanced on his sight, - At distance where the warm sun-light - Pour’d through the trees its mellow ray, - And flowers rejoiced at the coming day. - And swiftly as that sun-light went - His springing bow was up and bent: - An arrow leapt into its place; - The strain’d string almost touch’d his face, - And every muscle, fix’d and still, - Waited to do the monarch’s will. - Again that form broke on his view, - But ere the deadly arrow flew, - His eagle eye had told him well - ’ -Twas his loved daughter--Nerveless fell - His brawny arm, and o’er his frame - A cold a sickly shuddering came, - And reel’d his brain, and o’er his sight - Came darkness like the depths of night. - He rested on a fallen tree, - And soon his child, on bended knee, - Had clasp’d and kiss’d his aged hand, - And met his eye with look so bland, - It made the clouds from his brow depart, - And quicken’d the life-blood in his heart. - ‘Speak, semblance of thy mother, speak, - ‘And tell where thou hast been; - ‘I saw thee beyond the old oak tree, - ‘On the farther side of the glen. - ‘This is no time for a child like thee - ‘To wander away from home; - ‘Thou canst not tell what dangerous foes - ‘Through our dark, deep forests roam. - ‘So soon hast thou forgotten, child, - ‘The tale of yesternight? - ‘That shallop, and the pale-face men, - ‘Who may in blood delight? - ‘A thousand trophies of my power - ‘Hang up in my council hall, - ‘But sooner than trust thee abroad alone, - ‘I’d sacrifice them all. - ‘Dear Metoka, where hast thou been - ‘Through woods so dark and wild, - ‘Beyond the reach of thy father’s arm - ‘To guard his gentle child?’ - - -VI. - - She lean’d against the monarch’s knee, - And again she kiss’d his hand-- - ‘I’ve been to Paspahey, to see - ‘That strange mysterious band, - ‘That in the mighty shallop came, - ‘Loaded with thunder loud, - ‘And roll’d it out upon the bay, - ‘As Okee rolls it from a cloud. - ‘And in the river I beheld - ‘Their shallop dark and tall, - ‘And their werowance so stately stepp’d, - ‘I knew him from them all.’ - These words roused up the monarch’s blood, - And made it quicker flow; - He rose instinctive from his seat, - And firmly clasp’d his bow-- - ‘Thy spirit came from mine, my child, - ‘As light comes from the sun; - ‘None but a Powhatan would dare - ‘To do what thou hast done. - ‘Go, girl, arrange our council hall; - ‘Prepare the fires to light, - ‘For a deep and solemn council-talk - ‘Our chiefs must hold to-night.’ - - -VII. - - The summer day glides slowly by; - Now golden gleams the western sky, - And twilight gray each valley fills, - And softly creeps upon the hills; - Now deep and deeper shadows fall, - And now within that trophied hall, - Flashing abroad on the brow of night, - The monarch’s council-fire burns bright. - The grim and murky spoils of war, - That hung in rude disorder there, - Glared out from pillar, wall, and nook, - And wild and hideous semblance took. - Some were bequeath’d from sire to son, - But Powhatan the most had won-- - Huge tomahawks, and war-clubs stout, - And wampum belts, hung round about, - And mantles of skin, and robes of feather, - Piled in promiscuous heaps together. - - -VIII. - - Aloft in stern and regal state, - Upon his throne the monarch sate; - His war-club rested in his hand, - The ensign of his high command; - His trusty bow, against the wall, - Lean’d, ready at a moment’s call; - Over his shoulders, lightly flung, - His feathery mantle graceful hung; - Rich skins beneath his feet were spread, - And eagle plumes waved o’er his head. - His chiefs and warriors soon were seen, - Like silent spectres, gliding in, - And, ranged in circle round the room, - Each dark brow knit in threatening gloom, - With blade in belt and bow in hand, - Like sculptured monuments they stand. - There waved full many a lofty crest, - But a raven-plume o’ertopp’d the rest, - For first and tallest in the ring, - Like giant, stood Pamunky’s king. - No word in that still hall was spoke, - Till Powhatan the silence broke, - And call’d a guardman to his side, - His faithful Rawhunt, true and tried, - And bade him the rites in order set, - And bring the lighted calumet. - Then through that long and mystic reed,{10} - Emblem of many a sacred deed, - Three solemn draughts the monarch drew, - And the smoke in three directions blew. - The first curl’d high above his head, - In homage of that spirit dread - Who ruleth in the upper air, - And maketh every man his care. - The second gently sunk to earth, - Where food and fruits and flowers have birth, - A thankful offering to that power, - Who both at morn and evening hour, - Opens his bounteous hand to bless - With life and health and happiness. - The third abroad on the air was blown, - A solemn token to make known - Unbroken faith to all who fain - Would still be bound in friendship’s chain. - Then, one by one, that warrior train - Smoked the long calumet again, - And gravely pass’d it round the ring, - Till, last of all, Pamunky’s king - Thrice drew the reed in princely pride, - Then laid it silently aside. - - -IX. - - To Powhatan now every chief - Turn’d his dark eye, while slow and brief, - As monarch speaketh to a man, - The council-talk he thus began. - ‘Chiefs and warriors! let your ears - ‘Be open to the words we say; - ‘The cloud, that rests upon our land, - ‘Portends a troubled day. - ‘Chiefs and brothers! come what will, - ‘Keep ye the chain of friendship bright, - ‘And if the hour of conflict come, - ‘Then hand to hand, like brothers, fight. - ‘Chiefs and brothers! ye have heard - ‘The strange events of yesterday, - ‘The mighty shallop, full of men, - ‘That thunder’d on our ocean bay, - ‘Then boldly up our river went, - ‘And stopp’d at Paspahey; - ‘Now listen while Pamunky’s king - ‘Reveals the tidings of to-day.’ - - -X. - - Like heavy cloud, portending storm, - Slow rose Pamunky’s giant form; - And laying bow and war-club by, - On Powhatan he turn’d his eye, - And while the chiefs in silence hung - On every accent of his tongue, - With flashing eye and bearing bold - He thus the day’s adventure told. - ‘Ere left the lark her grassy nest - ‘To pour her song upon the air, - ‘I call’d my warriors from their rest, - ‘And bade them for the woods prepare. - ‘Each one his stoutest war-club took, - ‘And each his trustiest bow; - ‘His hatchet above his girdle hung, - ‘His scalping-knife below; - ‘And well prepared for deadly fight, - ‘If foes should cross our way, - ‘Through forests dark we bent our course - ‘To the groves of Paspahey. - ‘And when we came to the river side - ‘The sun was shining bright, - ‘And the arms of a hundred pale-face men - ‘Were gleaming in the light; - ‘And thick upon the shallop’s deck - ‘Like forest trees they stood, - ‘And a hundred faces, pale as death, - ‘Look’d out upon the wood. - ‘But bravely to the river’s brink - ‘I led my warrior train, - ‘And face to face, each glance they sent, - ‘We sent it back again. - ‘Their werowance look’d stern at me, - ‘And I look’d stern at him, - ‘And all my warriors clasp’d their bows - ‘And nerved each heart and limb; - ‘I raised my heavy war-club high, - ‘And swung it fiercely round, - ‘And shook it toward the shallop’s side, - ‘Then laid it on the ground. - ‘And then the lighted calumet - ‘I offer’d to their view, - ‘And thrice I drew the sacred smoke - ‘And toward the shallop blew; - ‘And as the curling vapor rose, - ‘Soft as a spirit prayer, - ‘I saw the pale-face leader wave - ‘A white flag in the air. - ‘Then launching out their painted skiff, - ‘They boldly came to land - ‘And spoke us many a kindly word, - ‘And took us by the hand, - ‘Presenting rich and shining gifts, - ‘Of copper, brass, and beads, - ‘To show that they were men like us, - ‘And prone to generous deeds. - ‘We held a long and friendly talk, - ‘Inquiring whence they came, - ‘And who the leader of their band, - ‘And what their country’s name; - ‘And how their mighty shallop moved - ‘Across the boundless sea, - ‘And why they touch’d our great king’s land - ‘Without his liberty. - ‘They say that far beyond the sea - ‘A pleasant land appears, - ‘And there their sires have made their graves - ‘For many a hundred years; - ‘And there the men are numerous - ‘As leaves upon the trees, - ‘And a thousand mighty shallops there - ‘Are moved by every breeze. - ‘They call this bright land _England_, - ‘’Tis surrounded by the sea; - ‘_King James_ they call their werowance, - ‘And a mighty chief is he; - ‘And _brave Sir John_ is the name they give - ‘To the leader of this band, - ‘Who only ask to rest awhile - ‘On Powhatan’s wide land, - ‘To trade with us for skins and furs, - ‘And corn to make them bread, - ‘And a space to build their cabins, - ‘And a spot to bury their dead. - ‘If Powhatan will grant them this, - ‘We have no cause to fear, - ‘But loads of shining treasures - ‘Shall enrich us every year.’ - - -XI. - - Here paused Pamunky’s giant king, - And slowly left the council ring, - And cross’d the hall to the outer door, - And soon returning, gravely bore - A loaded quiver--’twas not fill’d - With barbed shafts that blood had spill’d, - But gorgeous toys of English art - To captivate the savage heart. - While Powhatan with searching eyes - Survey’d the strange and glittering prize, - The chiefs and warriors gather near, - And wait their sovereign’s voice to hear, - And gazing eagerly, meanwhile, - Pour their whole soul upon the pile. - At length the monarch waved his hand, - The warriors backward farther stand, - And turn their ready ear and eye - To catch the words of his reply. - - -XII. - - ‘Chiefs and warriors! still to me - ‘Our troubled sky looks dark; - ‘How often a wasting fire has raged, - ‘That sprung from a single spark! - ‘This English tree, that shows so fair, - ‘Must not in my realm take root, - ‘Nor till I better know its stock, - ‘Will I partake its fruit. - ‘These strangers come in friendly guise, - ‘And may for a time prove true, - ‘But the day we give them a footing here - ‘I fear we long shall rue. - ‘Remember Madoc, and beware; - ‘Guard well our council-fires, - ‘Lest we be doom’d to meet the fate - ‘That once befell our sires.’ - - -XIII. - - The listening throng, with awe profound, - Of every word drank in the sound; - The voice of Powhatan was law;{11} - But in that glittering pile they saw - A charm that had a magic power - They never felt before that hour. - The monarch saw their kindling fire, - And yielded to their strong desire, - And when again they form’d the ring, - He gravely bade Pamunky’s king - Dispense the gifts, and see with care - That each received his proper share. - The chiefs, in dazzling toys array’d, - Each other with delight survey’d, - And turn’d their trinkets in the light, - And danced for joy at the very sight. - The war-cloud from their brows was chased, - And the pale-face foes had been embraced - As friends and brothers, had they been - But in that hall of council then. - But Powhatan’s dark eye of flame - Their ecstacy began to tame, - And when again his voice was heard - No word was spoke, no foot was stirr’d, - While he made known his sovereign will, - And bade them every word fulfil. - He charged them all to sleep at night - On tomahawk and bow, - And to watch by day with eagle eye - The footsteps of the foe; - To keep their arrows pointed well, - Their bow-strings strong and sure, - And see that among them friendship’s chain - Was ever bright and pure: - And then with royal majesty - His mantle around him threw, - And cross’d the hall with stately step, - And silently withdrew. - - -XIV. - - The warrior train soon sunk to rest - On deer-skins spread around; - Each sleeper’s bow was in his hand, - But his sleep was deep and sound. - And now along the eastern sky - The day begins to dawn; - Now twilight breaks upon the hills, - Now on the dewy lawn; - And now across the brightening groves - The sun has pour’d his ray, - And now those warrior chiefs are up, - And each is on his way, - Through rugged woods, by the winding stream, - And across the tangled moor, - Each threading alone the track that leads - To his own cabin door. - - -END OF CANTO SECOND. - - - - -CANTO THIRD. - - -I. - - Of all the knights of England, - That ever in armor shone, - The boldest and the truest heart - Was that of brave Sir John.{12} - He had pass’d through perils on the land, - And perils on the sea, - And oftentimes confronted death - In Gaul and Germany; - And many a Transylvanian - Could point to the spot and show - Where the boldest of the Turkish knights - Were by his hand laid low. - And when confined in dungeons, - Or driven as a slave, - The rescue that his own arm brought, - Proved well Sir John was brave. - But now he was a pioneer - In a new world’s solitude; - The first to tread his pathless way - Where frown’d the wild old wood; - And wilder still, the savage tribes - Like fiends look’d fierce and grim, - But they stirr’d not the blood of brave Sir John, - For nothing daunted him. - To plant a British colony - He had cross’d the wide, wide sea, - And found thy future heritage, - O sacred liberty! - Now, infant Jamestown, smiled the morn, - That should behold thy christening; - That gallant band have lined thy shores, - And named thee after England’s king; - And well might English hearts beat high - When first they breath’d thy virgin air, - For never to them seem’d sky so bright, - Nor ever a land so fair.{13} - Young hope was hovering o’er thy groves - With her banner wide unfurl’d, - And on it a mighty empire shone, - The glory of the world. - And fancy saw the wilderness - Like magic melt away, - And tender blossoms of the earth - Spring to the light of day; - And streams, that through the solemn wood - Their ancient courses run, - Felt the fresh breath of mountain airs, - And brighten’d in the sun; - And far along the ocean shore - The sails of commerce flew, - And up a thousand shelter’d bays - Bright cities rose to view; - And all the wide-spread continent, - That slept in dark repose, - Awoke to life and loveliness, - And blossom’d as the rose. - - -II. - - Now crack’d the woodman’s axe full loud, - And fast the sturdy forest bow’d: - Tall trees, that waved like fields of grain, - Came crackling, crashing to the plain; - Their green leaves faded in the sun, - And flashing fires across them run; - And openings spread, and fields were clear’d, - And rustic huts and cabins rear’d. - A picket fort by the river side - The battle-axe and bow defied; - And the mingled hum of the busy throng - Echo’d the hills and woods along, - And joyous shoutings, wild and free, - Rose from the infant colony. - - -III. - - But Jamestown saw a darker day, - When months of toil had pass’d away, - For wailings sounded through the air, - And sorrow made her dwelling there. - The summer sun, now riding high, - Pour’d down the rays of hot July; - The woodman scarce his axe could wield, - Fainted the laborers in the field, - And pale disease began to spread,{14} - And scowling famine rear’d her head, - And many an exile droop’d and died - Along the lonely river side, - Where wearily he went to roam, - And weep unseen for his English home. - Great Powhatan had been obey’d-- - No Indian now would come to trade; - But hovering round the settlement - With bow in hand and ready bent, - And peering out from his covert wood - On the fields where the English cabins stood, - Exulting saw pale-faces fade, - And often in the graveyard laid. - - -IV. - - Why perish thus the exiled band, - Where plenty teemeth in the land? - For one abides among them there - With hand to do and heart to dare, - And in his eye and on his brow - Are deeds of daring written now, - That to the fainting band shall be - Warrant for their high destiny. - - -V - - A gallant barge is on the tide, - And stoutly twelve good oars are plied, - Sir John the guiding helm commands, - His loaded gun beside him stands, - His broadsword glistens on his thigh, - The woods are pierced by his beaming eye, - As down by the river shore they sweep, - Where the shadows of the forest sleep, - Till their weary oars they rest awhile - On the fragrant banks of Cedar Isle. - Not long they rest, but onward soon, - Beneath the fervid glow of noon, - In the glassy flood their oars they bend, - And the vessel forward swiftly send, - Till nearing now they clearly scan - The groves and beach of Kecoughtan. - As nearer to the shore they drew, - A warrior train appear’d in view, - And each a bow and war-club bore, - And now they reach the winding shore, - And stand like statues, mute and still, - Waiting to learn the bargemen’s will. - Like rider reining in his steed, - The oarsmen slacken now their speed, - And slowly floats the barge along - Close to that wild and warlike throng, - And as it grates upon the sand - Each rower’s gun is in his hand. - - -VI. - - Sir John in friendly accents spoke, - And ask’d their king to see; - They pointed to a shelter’d lodge - Beneath a giant tree; - And when away where the old oak grew - They moved with haughty strides, - Sir John and his little band march’d up - And follow’d their grim guides. - And here a village rose in sight, - Where the woods look’d dark and wild, - But silence reign’d in every lodge, - Nor saw they man or child. - Then spoke Sir John to his guides again, - And ask’d their chief to see. - They answer’d not, but away to the woods - They pointed silently; - And into the woods with quicken’d step - They silently withdrew, - And in their village left Sir John - Alone with his vessel’s crew. - But soon from the forest came again - Dark warriors with their bows, - And painted men on every side - From brake and bush arose; - And a warlike throng came up the path, - That led from the river shore, - And, moving quick, with hideous shouts, - Their sacred Okee bore-- - Great Okee, whose mysterious power - Is in the earth and air, - In fire and flood and stormy winds, - And worketh every where. - Great Okee, dress’d in painted robes, - And shining chains and beads, - Who in the silent night performs - Unutterable deeds, - And safely through the darkest hour - His faithful people leads-- - Great Okee cometh in the van - With war-plume on his head; - His brow is striped with black and white, - His cheeks are gory red; - And to the pale mysterious throng - They now are pressing near, - But Okee cometh in the van, - Why should his people fear? - A sudden war-whoop, wild and fierce, - Rings upward to the sky, - And a hundred warriors draw their bows, - And a hundred arrows fly. - But answering muskets quick give back - To the woods a roaring sound; - Each bowman flies, and Okee falls - Alone upon the ground. - Sir John the painted idol took,{15} - And bore it to the shore; - And soon a suppliant priest came down - Its ransom to implore. - - -VII. - - The barge is on the tide again, - And rapidly it flies, - For long its coming has been watch’d - By anxious waiting eyes; - And now those eyes are brightening, - And hearts are beating light, - And hope’s dim fires are lit anew, - For plenty greets their sight. - - -VIII. - - The monarch was feasting in royal state, - And many brave chiefs at the banquet sate: - His hunters had brought in their choicest store, - His fishers came loaded from Chesapeake’s shore; - His menials hasten a feast to prepare - From the mingled spoils of earth, ocean, and air, - And a merry hum circled round the board, - That so simply was spread and so richly was stored. - Fair Metoka sat at the monarch’s right hand, - The waiters stood watchful to do his command,{16} - And while on his left his younger child, - The gay Matachanna, look’d on him and smiled, - And amid the guests, that graced his hall, - His own valiant son was the pride of all, - The patriarch monarch gave thanks from his heart, - That the Spirit such blessings to him did impart. - But a messenger comes from the spying scout, - Which Powhatan’s caution kept constantly out, - To watch every movement the pale-faces made, - And see that his people went not there to trade. - ‘What tidings from Jamestown?’ the monarch inquires; - ‘Do the pale-faces thrive by their council-fires? - ‘Are their hearts as light as the wild-bird’s song? - ‘Do they walk like a people who feel they are strong? - ‘Do our tribes still obey our imperial command?’ - ‘Or has food been bestow’d by a traitor’s hand?’ - --‘The tree of the pale-face is sapless and dried,’ - The messenger spy to the monarch replied; - ‘Its branches are wither’d, and sear’d is its leaf, - ‘And the reign of the pale-face is harmless and brief. - ‘No hand brings them food, their own fountain is dry; - ‘A blight is upon them, they fade and they die, - ‘And soon Powhatan will be rid of his foe, - ‘Without wielding the war-club or drawing the bow.’ - When the tale of the colonists’ woes was done, - A smile sat on every brow save one: - A murmur of joy spread the hall throughout, - The warriors gave a triumphant shout; - But while other hearts with delight beat high, - Fair Metoka’s bosom still heaved with a sigh. - - -IX. - - In the midst of that shouting and joyous uproar - A Kecoughtan warrior rush’d in at the door; - His visage was haggard, and flying his hair, - From his restless eye shot a fiery glare, - His breathing was quick, and his mantle was torn, - His tough skin moccasins muddy and worn, - And the only weapon he wielded or wore - Was a war-club stout, which he dash’d on the floor. - Every sound in that hall in a moment was hush’d, - And the semblance of joy from each visage was brush’d. - Not a word nor a whisper escaped from the crowd, - Till Powhatan order’d that warrior aloud, - His message, whate’er it might be, to make known, - And declare why he came in such haste and alone. - ‘I come,’ said the warrior, ‘from Kecoughtan’s king, - ‘And appalling and sad are the tidings I bring: - ‘A cloud full of blackness is over us spread, - ‘And the thick bolts of heaven leap awful and red; - ‘Our god is dishonor’d, and soon will his ire - ‘Sweep the realm of the monarch with thunder and fire, - ‘Unless the foul insult be wash’d from the land - ‘By the hateful blood of the pale-face band. - ‘Sir John and his warriors have been to our shore, - ‘And their coming we long shall have cause to deplore; - ‘Our children no longer can quietly sleep, - ‘The wounds of our people are bloody and deep; - ‘With smoke and with fire, and a thundering sound, - ‘Great Okee was hurl’d like a chief to the ground, - ‘And dragg’d like a captive, and borne from the plain, - ‘And barter’d and sold like a deer that is slain.’ - - -X. - - The messenger ceased, his voice was still; - But from that hall a war-cry shrill - Roll’d over river, grove, and hill, - So loud, so sharp, so piercing clear, - For miles around the startled deer - Raised high their heads and snuff’d the breeze, - Gazed through the distant opening trees, - And arch’d their necks, and raised their feet, - Then clear’d the ground with step so fleet, - That soon the dark and silent glen - Secured them from pursuit of men. - Grim warriors smote their breasts, and cried, - ‘Vengeance shall humble pale-face pride; - ‘Away, away, to Jamestown’s shore, - ‘Our scalping-knives all thirst for gore.’ - Stout Nantaquas with furious look - Aloft his knotted war-club shook; - His bosom panted for the strife - Of war-club, battle-axe, or knife. - Pamunky’s iron visage glow’d - With passion’s fire, as round he trode, - And cross’d the hall from side to side, - And shook it with his giant stride. - Raged and foam’d Nemattanow, - Rattled his quiver and strain’d his bow, - And vow’d no sleep his eyes should know, - Till he had tasted English blood, - And avenged the insult to his god. - But Powhatan sat like a rock, - That moves not mid the tempest shock; - And while he watch’d his people’s rage, - Which he alone had power to assuage, - Passions that his own visage wrought - Show’d equal fire, but more of thought. - Sternly the monarch look’d around, - And waved his hand: hush’d was each sound; - The warriors bent a listening ear - Their sovereign’s high behest to hear, - While with rebuke and counsel bold - He soon their fiery mood controll’d. - - -XI. - - ‘Chiefs and warriors! why so high - ‘Are raised the shout and battle-cry? - ‘Why meet this strange mysterious foe, - ‘Before his power and arms ye know? - ‘In darkness would ye rush to fight, - ‘Or wait till ye can see the light? - ‘Why would ye grapple in his den - ‘The fierce and strong-arm’d panther, when, - ‘By waiting patiently awhile, - ‘He’ll surely fall within your toil? - ‘Calm your fierce rage, let reason show - ‘The way, the hour, to meet the foe. - ‘Great Okee’s wrongs must be repaid, - ‘But be the vengeful blow delayed. - ‘Meantime let scouts through grove and glen - ‘Watch every step of the pale-face men; - ‘Creep cautiously through bush and brake, - ‘Beside their path, like noiseless snake, - ‘And watch till the certain moment come, - ‘Then strike the death-blow deep and home.’ - - -XII. - - The feast was o’er, the guests were gone, - Soon came the tranquil evening on, - The bright moon rose above the trees, - Soft blew the cooling summer breeze, - And forth to enjoy the tranquil hour - The sisters sought their greenwood bower. - Sweet wild-flowers grew around their seat, - A fountain sparkled at their feet, - On whose bright bosom trembling lay - The dark tree-top and moon’s pale ray. - Young Matachanna’s eye shone bright - With joy at all this lovely sight, - But when on Metoka’s sweet face - The moonbeam found a resting-place, - It met a look of sadness there, - That told her heart was press’d with care. - ‘Dear Metoka,’ her sister said, - ‘A tear is in your eye; - ‘Why are you sad when I am glad? - ‘Dear sister, tell me why. - ‘And when I smile and kiss your cheek, - ‘You answer with a sigh; - ‘There is a trembling in your voice; - ‘Dear sister, tell me why.’ - - -XIII. - - ‘O, Matachanna, o’er my life - ‘A dark cloud spreads its shade, - ‘And willingly would Metoka - ‘Be in the green earth laid. - ‘For then to that fair land where dwells - ‘My spirit-mother, I should go: - ‘But here abides no joy for me-- - ‘I cannot love Nemattanow. - ‘And though rare presents he has brought - ‘To win me for his bride, - ‘And though he talks me very fair - ‘When sitting by my side, - ‘And though our father likes him well, - ‘And says that I must wed, - ‘I cannot love Nemattanow, - ‘I rather would be dead. - ‘They say that none among our tribes - ‘Can draw so true a bow, - ‘And none brings home so many scalps - ‘As does Nemattanow; - ‘And when the hunters’ spoils are shared, - ‘His is the largest part; - ‘But I cannot love Nemattanow, - ‘He has a cruel heart. - ‘I love to hear the wild-bird sing - ‘Unharm’d in the leafy tree, - ‘I love to see the gentle deer - ‘Through the forest running free; - ‘But ’tis Nemattanow’s delight - ‘To slay them with his dart: - ‘I cannot love Nemattanow, - ‘He has a cruel heart. - ‘He cares not for the sweetest flowers - ‘That grow beside the spring, - ‘He never saves a captive’s life, - ‘But a scalp will always bring: - ‘How could I live with such a man - ‘In his cabin away alone? - ‘His heart beats not with tenderness, - ‘’Tis hard as any stone.’ - - -XIV. - - ‘O, sister, do not grieve thee so,’ - Young Matachanna said, - ‘Our sire will never compel thee, dear, - ‘Against thy will to wed. - ‘_He_ is not _cruel_, who else may be; - ‘His love we oft have tried; - ‘And what we both have ask’d of him - ‘He never yet denied. - ‘I’ll put my arms about his neck - ‘And tell him of sister’s wo, - ‘And sure he’ll never compel thee, love, - ‘To wed Nemattanow.’ - - -XV. - - Now in the monarch’s quiet lodge - Sleep comes its balm to bring, - And o’er the young and innocent - Spreads out its angel wing, - And fans the trembling tear away - From the closed lids at rest, - And steeps in soft forgetfulness - The day-dreams of the breast. - - -XVI. - - Where rests Nemattanow the while? - Is sleep to him as kind? - And has it calm’d the passion-flame, - That preys upon his mind? - On his deer-skin soft, full six miles off, - He has pillow’d his restless brain, - And has turn’d himself from side to side, - And tried to sleep in vain; - For over his deep and burning thoughts - His will has no control; - He only thinks of Metoka, - Whose beauty has fired his soul. - Hour after hour he watch’d the moon - Steal over his cabin floor, - And the more he look’d upon its light, - He thought of her the more; - And if his fancy stray’d abroad - In the chase o’er plain and hill, - Or wander’d by the moon-lit stream, - Her image met him still. - He rose and left his sleepless couch, - And into the woods has gone; - He crosses meadow, grove, and glen, - And still he wanders on; - And when on Metoka’s abode - First glanced the morning beam, - Nemattanow was in the bower - Beside the fountain stream. - And round that bower and through the grove - He linger’d all day long, - To catch a glimpse of Metoka, - Or listen to her song; - And when her form glanced on his sight, - Or her voice through the air rung clear, - It sent a sun-light to his heart, - And a joy upon his ear. - But oh, how soon that sun-light fled, - How quick that thrill of joy was dead, - When recollection came again - And whirl’d the thought across his brain, - That since he brought with anxious care - His choicest presents to the fair, - Four suns had risen and four had set, - But his gifts were not accepted yet! - - -XVII. - - ’Twas now the early twilight hour, - That kindly comes with soothing power - To calm the day’s tumultuous strife, - And smooth the stormy waves of life. - Nemattanow, with thoughtful eye - Fix’d on the changeful evening sky, - Lean’d him against an aged tree, - Whose top for many a century - Had bathed in the earliest beams of day - And felt the sun’s last setting ray. - Out on a gentle hill-side stood - This aged monarch of the wood, - Whence Powhatan’s gray lodge was seen, - His fields, and groves, and valleys green; - And the younger trees on the sloping brow - Around this old trunk seem’d to bow, - As if it had a right to be - The ruler of their destiny. - The monarch loved this relic old - Of other days; perhaps the hold - It had upon his heart arose - From the charm similitude bestows, - For the scenes of life around it thrown - Seem’d but the shadowing of his own. - - -XVIII. - - Now walking his accustom’d round - At closing of the day, - Old Powhatan the hill-side clomb, - And look’d toward Paspahey, - Where the English band had marr’d his groves - And made his forest bow, - And bitter was the curse he breathed, - And dark his frowning brow. - And here beside his old loved tree - Reclined Nemattanow, - Whose sadden’d eye and heaving breast - Betray’d his secret wo. - ‘Let not the warrior’s eye grow sad,’ - The monarch gravely said, - ‘Because his gifts are not approved - ‘By a young light-hearted maid. - ‘It is not meet that Powhatan - ‘Should bid his daughter love - ‘The warrior, or receive his gifts, - ‘Unless her heart approve. - ‘But let the warrior bring to me - ‘The scalp of brave Sir John, - ‘And Metoka shall be his bride, - ‘And he the monarch’s son.’ - - -XIX. - - New fire lit up the glowing eyes - Of sad Nemattanow; - He smote his war-club on the ground, - And firmly grasp’d his bow; - And tomahawk and scalping-knife - He buckled to his side, - Gave one fierce look toward Paspahey, - And down the valley hied. - - -END OF CANTO THIRD. - - - - -CANTO FOURTH. - - -I. - - The moon look’d down with loving light - On river, grove, and hill, - And Jamestown slept in quietness, - Her homes were closed and still; - The evening prayer from pious lips - Had been address’d to heaven, - And for relief from famine’s power - Had many thanks been given; - And while his people were at rest - Sir John was out alone, - And walking by the river bank, - Where the moon-lit waters shone, - To see his vessel well secured - Against the chafing wave. - Fear not for him; Sir John was arm’d-- - And more, Sir John was brave. - But as he turn’d him from the shore, - His homeward route to trace, - An arrow swift as light flew past-- - So near, it fann’d his face; - And quick upon his pathway rush’d - An Indian, stout and tall. - Sir John his faithful carbine drew, - Well-charged with shot and ball; - But though a squirrel he could bring - From the highest forest bough, - And though he took deliberate aim, - His carbine fail’d him now. - On came the savage, dark and fierce, - Fire beaming from his eye, - Leaping like tiger on his prey, - His war-club raised on high; - But when within ten feet he came, - He made a sudden stand, - For now Sir John’s bright sword was out, - And flashing in his hand; - And firm he stood and sternly look’d - Upon his savage foe, - In readiness, at every point, - To give him blow for blow. - A moment’s pause, and then again - The Indian forward sprang, - And now against his falling club - Sir John’s keen broadsword rang; - And thrice the clash of club and sword - Echo’d the woods around, - And then the weapon of Sir John - Fell broken to the ground. - At once he rush’d with desperate power - And grappled with his foe, - And, face to face, he saw and knew - ’ -Twas fierce Nemattanow. - More deadly grew the conflict then; - It was no feeble strife, - When two such warriors, hand to hand, - Were struggling, life for life. - The hatchet of Nemattanow - Bore a well-sharpen’d blade, - And now to draw it from his belt - His hand was on it laid; - But quick the strong arm of Sir John - Clasp’d the stout Indian round, - And with a mighty effort brought - His foeman to the ground. - And as they fell, Nemattanow - Clutch’d fast his flowing hair, - And twisted it about his hand, - As if he would prepare - To cut away his living scalp - Before he took his life; - And now with vigorous gripe he seized - His deadly scalping-knife. - Again Sir John with iron nerve - Summon’d his utmost strength; - Their grapple, from the river side, - Was scarcely twice his length; - The grassy bank was smooth and steep, - And dark and deep the flood-- - A moment more, that scalping-knife - Would surely drink his blood-- - With wiry spring and giant power - A sudden whirl he gave, - And over and over, down they roll’d, - And plunged beneath the wave.{17} - - -II. - - Now stealing through the forest trees - The ruddy morning broke, - And, pouring in its dewy light, - The slumbering monarch woke. - He rose, and in his morning walk, - To the sloping hill he hied, - And there again by his old loved tree - Nemattanow he spied. - Weary and worn the warrior seem’d, - His temple show’d a wound, - And dripping water from his hair - Was moistening the ground. - No quiver now was at his back, - Nor war-club by his side; - Nor battle-axe nor scalping-knife - His enemies defied. - But though all weaponless he stood, - His look was bold and free, - And proud his bearing was, like one - High flush’d with victory. - - -III. - - ‘And hast thou met,’ said Powhatan, - ‘The foeman of our race? - ‘Methinks the joy of triumph now - ‘Is beaming from thy face. - ‘But wherefore art thou weaponless, - ‘And wounded, worn, and weak? - ‘And where’s the scalp of the mighty chief, - ‘Thou wentest forth to seek?’ - - -IV. - - ‘I met that chief, and proved him well,’ - Nemattanow replied, - ‘And I left him down three fathoms deep - ‘Beneath the sluggish tide. - ‘Our people now through all our groves - ‘Their accustom’d walks may take, - ‘Nor start and cry, “There comes Sir John!” - ‘If a twig but chance to break. - ‘Our fight was bloody, long, and fierce; - ‘The moon alone look’d on, - ‘And none but the river-god can tell - ‘Where sleeps the brave Sir John.’ - - -V. - - ‘The daring deed was bravely done,’ - The joyful chief replied; - ‘For this, henceforth thou art my son, - ‘And Metoka thy bride. - ‘Three days a merry festival - ‘Thy triumph shall proclaim, - ‘And every grove through all our tribes - ‘Shall ring aloud thy name; - ‘And when these joyous days are past, - ‘Fair Metoka shall go, - ‘In all our choicest gifts array’d, - ‘To bless Nemattanow.’ - - -VI. - - Now through the halls of Powhatan - The voice of gladness wakes, - And ringing out from hill to hill - The shout of triumph breaks. - Stout warriors come with wampum belts - And robes of blue and red, - And many a chief in rich attire, - With war-plume on his head; - And men and maidens in their joy - The hall of council throng, - And every lodge and every grove - Echoes with dance and song. - And rich and plenteous is the feast - On every board spread out; - Joy sparkles from a thousand eyes, - High peals the merry shout; - And loud and often in their glee - They bless Nemattanow, - Whose powerful arm had overcome - Their strange and mighty foe. - - -VII. - - And now, to appease great Okee’s ire, - The priests with solemn care - Enter the sacred temple halls, - And mystic rites prepare-- - Those sacred halls where priests perform - Their fearful mystery, - Places by far too holy deem’d - For other eyes to see-- - Temples that shield from vulgar sight{18} - A thousand holy things, - Their idols, tombs, and images - Of great and ancient kings. - Out on a grassy, open spot, - Are fagots piled on high, - And leaping flame and rolling smoke - Are towering to the sky; - And there, to wait the priest’s return, - Hundreds are gather’d round, - To join the mystic revelry, - And dance on holy ground-- - When lo! the solemn man comes forth{19} - With slow and measured tread; - A crown of snakes and weasel skins - Is borne upon his head; - Atop a tuft of feathers serves - To bind them in their place, - And serpent heads and weasel claws - Hang round his neck and face. - His naked shoulders and his breast - Are stain’d a blood-red hue, - And grim and blood-red is the mask - His fiery eyes look through. - The sacred weed is in his hand,{20} - That Okee’s favor wins, - Whose grateful odor hath the power - To expiate all sins; - He hurls it forth with sinewy arm - Into the hottest flame, - And thrice aloud in solemn tone - Invokes great Okee’s name. - At once they leap and form a ring, - With shout and hideous yell, - And round the flames they whirl and scream, - Like a thousand fiends of hell. - With strange contortions, flashing eyes, - And long and flying hair, - Around and round, for six long hours,{21} - They battle with the air. - And then again through every hall - The feast and song renew, - And all day long and all the night - Their festive mirth pursue. - - -VIII. - - The third day of the festival - Now drawing to its close, - Promised the weary revellers - Cessation and repose. - Nemattanow with joyful eyes - Beheld that sun go down, - Whose setting hour would give to him - Earth’s richest, fairest crown. - But though the time had joyous pass’d - Since first the feast began, - One circumstance there was, that still - Disturb’d old Powhatan. - His favorite chief, Pamunky’s king, - Though call’d with special care - To grace these glad rejoicing days, - Had never once been there. - Why he came not, no one could tell; - A messenger each day, - Had been despatch’d to learn the cause - Which kept that chief away; - The first reported he had left - With fifty of his clan, - At dawning of the first feast-day, - For the halls of Powhatan; - And those who follow’d, day by day, - No other news could bring, - And great the marvel was, at this - Strange absence of the king. - - -IX. - - The sun is low, and lodge and tree - Long shadows now impart, - But a sadder, deeper shadow fell - On Metoka’s young heart; - For now the dreaded hour had come - When she abroad must rove, - Away from childhood’s happy home, - With the man she could not love. - She took her sister by the hand - To bid a sad farewell, - And these the soft and tender words - From her trembling lips that fell. - - -X. - - ‘O, Matachanna, must I go - ‘From this loved spot away? - ‘No more among these green old trees, - ‘With thee, dear sister, play? - ‘No more upon the hill-side run, - ‘And chase the butterfly, - ‘Or down the shady valley see - ‘The nimble deer dart by? - ‘A pleasant thing it is to see - ‘The lovely light of day, - ‘When gentle Matachanna is - ‘Companion of my way! - ‘But away alone with a cruel one, - ‘My day will turn to night, - ‘And never more will Metoka - ‘Behold the pleasant light. - ‘But when, dear sister, I am gone, - ‘Still love our greenwood bowers, - ‘And plant around our lovely spring - ‘The pretty summer flowers. - ‘And love our father fervently, - ‘And bless him every day, - ‘And sometimes gently speak to him - ‘Of her that’s far away--’ - - -XI. - - But hark! a shout comes on the air, - A war-cry loud and shrill; - It seems a shout of victory-- - Again, and louder still. - Old Powhatan rush’d from the hall - With war-club in his hand, - And a hundred warriors seize their arms, - And round the old chief stand, - And listen to that coming shout, - That now rings loud and clear; - And soon from out the darkling grove - A warrior train appear. - ‘Pamunky’s king!’ cried Powhatan, - ‘’Tis Opechancanough; - ‘I see his raven-plume on high, - ‘His giant form below. - ‘Now let a cry of welcome rise - ‘Till hill and forest ring, - ‘For a truer chief no tribe can boast, - ‘Than brave Pamunky’s king.’ - At once with one united voice - Their answering shout rose high, - And loud and long the echo swell’d, - Like an army’s battle-cry. - Pamunky led his warriors up, - Form’d in a hollow square, - With bowstrings drawn and arrows notch’d, - All pointing in with care, - To guard a prisoner, who with arms - Tight-pinion’d might be seen - Advancing with a stately step, - And calm and noble mein. - On either side three warriors stout - Held fast upon each arm, - With weapons ready for the death - Upon the least alarm. - ‘Why come so late,’ said Powhatan, - ‘Our festive rites to share? - ‘And what brave captive hast thou brought - ‘Amid thy warriors there?’ - - -XII. - - ‘True, I am late,’ Pamunky said, - ‘But my lateness to atone, - ‘I bring you here a captive bound, - ‘The mighty chief, Sir John.’ - A moment, struck with deep surprise, - Each warrior held his breath, - And a stillness reign’d through all the crowd, - Like that in the halls of death. - First Powhatan at the prisoner glanced, - Then at Nemattanow, - Who look’d as though he’d sink to earth - With wonder, shame, and wo. - And when the first surprise was o’er, - The gathering throngs drew round, - And a mighty swell of triumph rose, - That shook the very ground. - Warrior and chief, and old and young, - Pour’d their full voices out, - And never did woods give echo back - To such a ringing shout. - When silence was again restored - The old chief waved his hand, - And with imperial look and tone, - To all gave this command. - ‘The evening shades begin to fall, - ‘Let noise and revel cease; - ‘Our three days’ feasting now requires - ‘A night of rest and peace. - ‘The captive to the inner hall - ‘Convey with special care, - ‘And forty of our bravest men, - ‘Till morning, guard him there. - ‘To-morrow let our feast again - ‘With double rites be crown’d, - ‘And a double song of victory - ‘Through all our tribes resound; - ‘Then solemn council shall decide - ‘What fate shall be prepared - ‘For this proud chief, that in our realm - ‘Our sovereign power has dared. - ‘And thou, Nemattanow, shalt be--’ - Here turn’d the monarch round, - But lo! the fierce Nemattanow - Was nowhere to be found. - His name was shouted on the air - A thousand times in vain, - And runners flew this way and that, - O’er rugged hill and plain; - And hall and lodge were search’d throughout, - And grove and glen explored, - But all the search till night set in - No tidings could afford. - - -XIII. - - Again the day is dawning, - And the revellers are out, - And their whooping and their cheering - Might be heard for miles about; - And the day is spent in feasting, - And ’tis joy and music all, - Save where the mighty monarch, - In his great council-hall, - In his royal robes is sitting, - And his war-chiefs round him wait, - To decide in solemn council - Their illustrious captive’s fate. - - -XIV. - - Though many honor’d brave Sir John - For his spirit bold and high, - The solemn council now decide - That brave Sir John must die; - For this alone, they deem’d, would serve - To appease great Okee’s wrath; - And safety to the monarch’s realm - Required the strange chief’s death. - So great a foe and terrible - Their tribes had never known: - Hence ’twas decreed, that in his fall, - Great Powhatan alone - Was worthy to inflict the blow - This mighty chief to slay; - And all demanded that the deed - Be done without delay. - - -XV. - - The monarch sitteth on his throne, - In his dignity array’d; - Mysterious power is in his eye, - That maketh man afraid; - The women of his court stand up - With awe behind the throne, - But his daughters in their beauty sit - On either hand alone; - While all around the spacious hall - Long rows of warriors stand, - With nodding war-plume on each head, - And each with weapon in his hand; - And scalps and trophies line the walls, - That fifty wars supplied, - And richest robes and shining belts - Appear on every side. - And all is placed in fit array - To take the captive’s eye, - When he should come within the hall - To be condemn’d and die-- - For ’twas not meet to take the life - Of so great and strange a man, - Till he had seen the greatness too - Of great King Powhatan. - - -XVI. - - Now through the festal crowds abroad - Heralds aloud make known, - That soon the great Sir John must die, - Before the monarch’s throne. - Hush’d is the song and ceased the dance, - And darkening throngs draw near, - In awful silence round the hall, - And bend a listening ear, - To catch the floating sounds that come, - Perchance the fatal blow, - Perchance the death-song of Sir John, - Or his dying shriek of wo. - A private door to that great hall - Is open’d slow and wide, - And a guard of forty men march in - With looks of lofty pride, - For in their midst that captive walks - With tightly pinion’d arm, - Whose very name had power to shake - The boldest with alarm. - The captive’s step is firm and free, - His bearing grave and high, - And calm and quiet dignity - Is beaming from his eye. - One universal shout arose - When first Sir John appear’d, - And all the gathering throng without - In answer loudly cheer’d. - And then the monarch waved his hand, - And all was still again; - And round the hall the prisoner march’d, - Led by the warrior train; - And thrice they went the circuit round, - That all might see the face - That bore such pale and spirit marks - Of a strange and mighty race. - - -XVII. - - In the centre of the hall is placed - A square and massive stone, - And beds of twigs and forest leaves - Are thickly round it strown; - And there a heavy war-club stands, - With knots all cover’d o’er; - It bears the marks of many wars, - Hard, smooth, and stain’d with gore. - It was the monarch’s favorite club, - For times of peril kept, - ’Twas near him when upon the throne, - And near him when he slept. - No other hands had ever dared - That ponderous club to wield, - And never could a foe escape - When that club swept the field. - Now slowly to this fatal spot - They lead Sir John with care, - And bind his feet about with withes, - And lay him prostrate there; - And look and listen eagerly - For him to groan or weep; - But he lays his head down tranquilly, - As a child that goes to sleep. - The monarch with a stately step - Descendeth from the throne, - And all give back before the light, - From his fiery eye that shone. - He raiseth that huge war-club high; - The warriors hold their breath, - And look to see that mighty arm - Hurl down the blow of death-- - A sudden shriek bursts through the air, - A wild and piercing cry, - And swift as light a form is seen - Across the hall to fly. - The startled monarch stays his hand, - For now, beneath his blow, - He sees his lovely Metoka - By the captive kneeling low. - Her gentle arm is round his head, - Her tearful eyes upturn’d, - And there the pure and hallow’d light - Of angel mercy burn’d. - Compassion lit its gentle fires{22} - In the breast of Powhatan; - The warrior to the father yields, - The monarch to the man. - Slowly his war-club sinks to earth, - And slowly from his eye - Recedes the fierce, vindictive fire, - That burn’d before so high. - His nerves relax--he looks around - Upon his warrior men-- - Perchance their unsubdued revenge - His soul might fire again-- - But no; the soft contagion spreads, - And all have felt its power, - And hearts are touch’d and passions hush’d, - For mercy ruled the hour. - - -XVIII. - - The monarch gently raised his child, - And brush’d her tears away; - And call’d Pamunky to his side, - And bade without delay - To free the captive from his bonds, - And show him honors due, - And lead him to the festive hall - Their banquet to renew. - - -XIX. - - The day is past, and past the night, - And now again the morning light, - With golden pinions all unfurl’d, - Comes forth to wake a sleeping world; - And brave Sir John, with footsteps free, - And a trusty guard of warriors three, - Through the deep woods is on his way - To greet his friends at Paspahey. - - -END OF CANTO FOURTH. - - - - -CANTO FIFTH. - - -I. - - December’s sun is pale and low, - Chilly and raw the north winds blow, - Dark threatening clouds are floating by, - And Jamestown’s sons with sadden’d eye - Look out upon the dreary wild - Of woods and waters, where exiled, - And distant far from friends and home, - They see the storms of winter come. - One half their number they had lost, - Since on this wild and desert coast - They first set foot; and ere the spring - Fresh fruits and flowers again would bring, - They felt that others too must fall: - For though their number was but small, - Their store of food was smaller still; - And oft this thought a deadly chill - Sent to each heart: they saw the hour - Was coming soon, when famine’s power - Must sweep them off, as leaves are cast - On the cold earth by autumn’s blast. - But mid this gloom and prospect dread, - That o’er all hearts a sadness shed, - No matter by what foe assail’d, - Sir John’s brave spirit never quail’d. - Early and late he knew no rest; - He nursed the sick, sooth’d the distress’d, - Cheer’d the despairing, and anon, - With gun in hand, away has gone - To seek the wild duck on the wave, - Or game within the darksome wood, - The famish’d colonists to save, - And spread their common board with food. - - -II. - - One morning early, while the gray - And sleeping mist on the river lay, - Ere yet the sun from his ocean bed - Had tinged the distant hills with red, - In quest of game Sir John had gone - Far down the river vale alone; - And standing on a gentle height - He view’d the silver winding James-- - What vision glances on his sight? - What sudden fire his cheek inflames? - Is that a sail? Is that a ship, - Glides slowly round the headland dim? - With straining eye and parted lip, - He breathless stands, with moveless limb, - And throws his eager look afar, - Like the quick shooting of a star. - A sail? a ship? He looks again-- - It is, it is--he sees it plain; - He sees the sails, he sees the hull, - An English flag at mast-head flies: - And now his throbbing heart is full, - And tears are crowding to his eyes; - Those eyes which had not known a tear, - Before this hour, for many a year. - - -III. - - With a light heart, and step as light, - He soon retraced his homeward route, - And there the ship was full in sight, - And all the colonists were out - And gazing off upon the river. - With pious thankfulness some lift - Their eyes and hands to the great Giver - Of every good and perfect gift; - Some, wild with joy, run here and there, - Grasping each other’s eager hand; - Some with quick motion beat the air, - And some like moveless statues stand. - Slowly the ship comes sailing on, - And now she rides abreast the town; - The sailors up the shrouds have gone, - The ponderous anchor plunges down, - And curbs her gently to the breeze, - Like a proud steed that feels the bit; - And now she heads the rippling seas, - And her furling sails on the long yards flit. - A light boat launches from the shore, - Each oarsman nimbly plies his oar - Across the waters, bright and clear. - The tall ship rapidly they near, - And soon, half lost to view, they glide - To the deep shadow of her side, - Where the rocking boat seems but a speck; - Man after man mounts to the deck, - And here Sir John with joyous smile - Greets Newport from Britannia’s isle. - - -IV. - - A thousand questions now are ask’d, - And a thousand answers given; - Sir John tells how with savages, - And famine, he has striven; - How in his light and open barge, - With scarce a dozen men, - He had scour’d the mighty Chesapeake, - Round all her shores had been, - And up the rivers from the bay - To where the waters fall, - And seen the wild and warlike tribes, - And dared the power of all. - - -V. - - Then Captain Newport told what joy - King James’s heart had known, - That such a goodly land as this - Was added to his throne; - And that to make the savage tribes - With English power content, - To their great chieftain, Powhatan, - King James by him had sent - Rich, royal presents, such as kings - Of power and dignity - Might to a royal brother make; - Gold rings, rich cutlery, - A robe of state of finest woof - And of a scarlet red, - And a sparkling crown thick-set with gems, - Fit for a monarch’s head. - And as the kings had worn no crowns - As yet in this new land, - It was King James’s special will, - And thus he gave command, - That Captain Newport and Sir John - This kingly crown should see - Placed on the head of Powhatan - With due solemnity. - Now on the shore in merry bands - Light-hearted sailors roam, - And listening ears of colonists - Are fill’d with news from home. - - -VI. - - The council-hall of Powhatan - In quietness was closed; - And in his warmer winter lodge - The aged chief reposed: - And when the piercing northwest wind - The crevices came through, - He closer drew his robe of fur, - And fed his fire anew. - And when upon his cabin wall - His glowing fire grew bright, - And brighter still, betokening - The coming on of night, - The monarch took his usual round - Through hall and lodge and yard, - To see that all was well secured, - And set his nightly guard. - First to the east and then the west - He glanced his restless eye, - The trees were rocking in the wind, - Dark clouds were in the sky, - And well the experienced monarch saw - In their motion and their form, - And heard along the groaning hills, - The spirit of the storm. - - -VII. - - And as he look’d, and as he turn’d, - He saw a pale-face man-- - How quick the leaping blood went through - The veins of Powhatan! - Changed in an instant was his form, - From a feeble man and old, - Slow moving in his furry robe, - To a warrior stout and bold. - His outer cloak was dash’d aside, - And left his shoulders bare; - No more he heard the whistling wind - Or felt the biting air; - His buskin’d feet were planted firm, - His heavy club swung light, - And had a thousand foes been there, - He was ready for the fight. - That pale-face man came out alone - From the moaning woods’ deep shade, - And still alone approach’d the lodge, - Nor hostile sign display’d; - But with a fearless air came up, - And with a stately stride, - And Powhatan and brave Sir John - Were standing side by side. - And now within the inner lodge - Together they retire, - And on the monarch’s furry couch - Sit by the glowing fire. - No word or look from Powhatan - Betray’d his secret thought, - Nor deign’d he to inquire what cause - His visiter had brought; - But sat and look’d him in the face - His guest’s deep thoughts to scan, - Until Sir John the silence broke, - And thus his speech began. - - -VIII. - - ‘Great werowance, I come to bring - ‘A greeting kind and true - ‘From great King James beyond the sea, - ‘Who sends good-will to you. - ‘He is a king all terrible, - ‘With ships and wealth and power, - ‘Sufficient to o’erwhelm your tribes - ‘And slay them in an hour. - ‘Let Manahocks and Manakins - ‘And Powhatans combine, - ‘They could not stand one day before - ‘This mighty king of mine. - ‘But yet his love to Powhatan - ‘Is brotherly and pure; - ‘And as a token that it will - ‘Forever warm endure, - ‘He sends you rich and royal gifts, - ‘A robe of scarlet red, - ‘A sparkling crown thick-set with gems, - ‘Fit for a monarch’s head, - ‘And other presents rich and rare, - ‘As you shall see and know, - ‘When to be crown’d in solemn form - ‘To Jamestown you shall go. - ‘He sent them in a mighty ship - ‘By a captain of the sea, - ‘Who has commission from our king, - ‘In company with me, - ‘To place the crown upon your head, - ‘A deed to great kings done - ‘In all the lands beyond the sea - ‘To the rising of the sun. - ‘And Captain Newport waits to know - ‘What day you will be there, - ‘That all things for the solemn rite - ‘We duly may prepare.’ - - -IX. - - Proudly the monarch raised his head, - And proudly turn’d his eye - Upon the spoils of many wars, - And scalps that hung on high; - And then his trusty bow and club - He haughtily survey’d, - And thus with stately air and tone - His brief reply he made. - ‘If such rare presents have been sent - ‘From your great king to me, - ‘Remember too, _I am a king_, - ‘And all this land you see, - ‘And all these woods and groves are mine, - ‘And the mighty rivers too, - ‘That pour down from the mountain sides - ‘And glide these valleys through. - ‘And thirty tribes with all their chiefs - ‘Their homage pay to me, - ‘And fight my battles when I call-- - ‘Your captain of the sea - ‘Should better know the place he fills: - ‘His presents to bestow, - ‘He may, when suits him, come to me; - ‘_To him I shall not go._’ - - -X. - - Sir John knew well the monarch’s pride - And firm unbending will, - And well he knew ’twere vain to seek - His purpose to fulfil; - He therefore urged his suit no more, - But at the chief’s request, - Consented to abide till morn, - And in his lodge to rest. - And soundly slept Sir John that night - Upon his deer-skin bed, - With hand upon his broadsword hilt - And pistol by his head. - And the first red morning ray that came, - Bright gleaming o’er the plain, - Beheld him on the forest route - To Jamestown’s homes again. - - -XI. - - A week of winter storms had pass’d, - And brighter days now shone, - And Powhatan no longer sat - In his winter lodge alone, - But in his council-hall appear’d - Among his warriors bold; - And all his chiefs were gather’d there, - A council-talk to hold. - And long about those royal gifts - They talk’d with solemn air; - Gifts from a land beyond the sea, - Which only kings might wear; - And many questions had been raised, - And many doubts remain’d, - What secret charm for good or ill - Those wondrous gifts contain’d. - But ere those doubts were half resolved, - While yet the talk went on, - One of the outer guard rush’d in, - Exclaiming that Sir John - And fifty of his pale-face tribe, - All marching in a file - Across the woods, with shining arms, - Were now within a mile - Of the council-hall. An instant fire - Flash’d from each warrior’s eye, - But there was no tumultuous rush, - No shout or battle-cry; - With knitted brow and silent step - Each seized his club and bow, - And girded on his scalping-knife; - And now in one grim row, - A hundred warriors arm’d for death, - And led by their great king, - Before the council-hall appear, - And wait what fate may bring. - - -XII. - - And soon the pale-face men came out, - And halted by the wood, - Their bright guns gleaming in their hands, - Facing the hall they stood, - While brave Sir John, like an armed knight, - March’d forward and alone, - And his errand and his company - To Powhatan made known. - He told him that his men had come - King James’s gifts to bear, - And that the captain of the sea - Stood with his warriors there; - And all things were in readiness, - If it pleased his sovereign will, - The high behest of great King James - In the crowning to fulfil. - A sharp glance then the monarch sent - To the borders of the wood, - And ask’d Sir John to point him out - Where that sea-captain stood. - And on him long and steadily - He fix’d his eagle ken, - To learn if that strange captain look’d - Like other pale-face men. - At last the monarch gave consent - For the gifts to be convey’d - To the council-hall: but only four - Of the armed men should aid - The captain and Sir John; the rest - Should strictly be compell’d - To stay beside the distant wood, - While the royal rite was held. - - -XIII. - - And now within the council-hall, - And by the monarch’s throne, - Around in rich profusion spread, - The royal presents shone. - There stood Sir John with four arm’d men, - And the captain of the sea, - But the monarch’s warriors in the hall - Were a hundred men and three. - The queens of twenty tribes appear, - And in their midst they bring - Two maidens bright to grace the scene, - The daughters of the king. - And there in his great dignity - Sat Powhatan alone, - In the broad circle that was made - Around the monarch’s throne; - And while his people peer’d and press’d - Those splendid gifts to see, - He never moved his princely eyes, - But kept his dignity. - And when Sir John the signal gave - For the monarch to come down, - And, standing by the throne, receive - The robe of state and crown, - With motion slow and lofty air - He stepp’d upon the floor, - And as he pass’d, with careless eye - He glanced the presents o’er. - - -XIV. - - Then took Sir John the robe of state - And gave it to the king; - And now with look of majesty - He eyed the curious thing; - And felt it o’er and o’er again-- - As soft and fine it seems - As any beaver’s fur that lives - Beside his woodland streams. - And much the color fills his eye; - A shade so pure and bright, - In any work of art before, - Had never met his sight. - And now the captain and Sir John - The robe of state unfold, - With outstretch’d arms and lifted hands - Aloft the fabric hold; - And while the monarch’s noble form - They wrap the vesture round, - Its many broad and shining folds - Sweep gracefully the ground. - Stately the monarch walks the hall - And turns from side to side, - And all his men and warriors stand - And look with awe and pride. - - -XV. - - Then Newport lifted up the crown, - With sparkling gems that shone, - And told the monarch to kneel down - With hand upon the throne; - For this mysterious, sacred thing - Was a type of sovereignty, - And all great kings that had been crown’d, - Were crown’d on bended knee. - A strange look then the monarch gave - To the captain of the sea, - As though he comprehended not - This type of sovereignty; - And Newport long confronted him - With arguments profound, - To make him understand that kings - Must kneel when they are crown’d. - But still the monarch could not see - The force of what he said, - And to his labor’d argument - He gravely shook his head. - His iron knee had never learn’d - To any power to bow, - And ’twas not all the kings on earth - Could make him bend it now. - But glancing round upon his men, - Unbending still he stood,{23} - Upright in native dignity, - Like an old oak of the wood. - This trouble vex’d exceedingly - The captain of the sea, - Who tried by every art to gain - Some slight bend of the knee, - That he on his return might tell - King James, and tell him true, - That Powhatan unto the crown - Had paid the homage due. - But all in vain; the more he strove, - The firmer stood the king: - Example or persuasive skill - Could no compliance bring, - Till on his shoulders both his hands - With gentle force he laid, - And pressing forward, thought he saw - The monarch bend his head. - ‘It is enough,’ the captain said; - ‘To bow the head, or knee, - ‘With equal honor vindicates - ‘The type of sovereignty:’ - And then upon that lofty brow - He placed the glittering thing, - And in King James’s stead pronounced - A blessing on the king. - - END OF CANTO FIFTH. - - - - -CANTO SIXTH. - - -I. - - The warm spring came, and the opening flower - On the sloping hill was seen; - And summer breathed on the waking woods, - And dress’d them in their green; - The wild-bird in the branches sung, - The wild-deer fed below; - Far up the river side appear’d - The hunter with his bow; - And on the fresh and sunny field, - Hard toiling through the day, - The weary colonist was out - By the groves of Paspahey. - Ship after ship came o’er the sea, - Laden with fresh supplies, - And men by hundreds came to join - This new world’s enterprise; - And up and down the noble James - Were settlements begun, - And many an opening in the woods - Look’d out upon the sun. - The busy tradesman ope’d his store - Of goods and wares for sale, - And blithely by the barnyard sang - The milkmaid with her pail; - The stout mechanic in his shop - Whistled the hours away, - And sturdily his labor plied - Through the long summer day. - With boding and uneasy mind - The thoughtful Indian view’d - The fatal signs of English power - Spread o’er his solitude; - And oft he brooded many a scheme, - And much he long’d to see - A withering blight or death-blow given - To this wide-spreading tree. - - -II. - - At evening sat King Powhatan - Beside his daughter fair, - To watch the far-off lightning’s flash, - And breathe the cooling air: - ’ -Twas by the door of his summer lodge; - His guards stood round in sight, - The moon between the flying clouds - Sent down a paly light, - When Opechancanough arrived, - With an air of kingly pride, - And greeting great King Powhatan, - Sat thoughtful by his side. - - -III. - - ‘What tidings, Opechancanough?’ - Said the monarch to his guest; - ‘Has the tree of these pale-faces spread - ‘So wide thou canst not rest? - ‘And hast thou come in sadness now - ‘To tell thy thoughts to me, - ‘And to pray the spirit of yonder fires - ‘To blast the pale-face tree?’ - - -IV. - - Then spoke Pamunky’s king, and said, - With half triumphant mein, - ‘True, strongly grows the pale-face tree, - ‘Its boughs are fresh and green; - ‘But I have found a secret fire, - ‘That will at my bidding go, - ‘And, creeping through the pale-face tree, - ‘Lay its tall branches low. - ‘My priest a subtle poison keeps, - ‘From deadly weeds distill’d; - ‘A single drop, where the red-deer feeds, - ‘A red-deer oft has kill’d. - ‘Rich venison and wild fowls, imbued - ‘With this dark drug, have gone - ‘To feed the famish’d pale-face foe, - ‘A present to Sir John. - ‘And ere to-morrow’s noonday hour - ‘They’ll droop, and fade, and die, - ‘And strew the ground, like autumn leaves - ‘When the storm-god passes by. - ‘The breeze all day across the land - ‘Shall bear their dying groans, - ‘And the river-god shall many a year - ‘Behold their whitening bones.’ - - -V. - - He paused and look’d at Powhatan - For some approving word; - But a bitter sigh from Metoka - Was the only sound he heard. - ‘If it is done, then be it so,’ - The monarch said, at last; - ‘Though rather would I see them fall - ‘By the spirit’s lightning blast; - ‘Or that our arms in open fight - ‘Might hurl the deadly blow, - ‘And show them Powhatan has power - ‘To conquer any foe. - ‘But if the deed is done, ’tis well-- - ‘The agent or the hour - ‘We will not question, if it serve - ‘To crush their growing power. - ‘Come, let us to the lodge retire; - ‘Thou’lt rest with us to-night: - ‘The clouds rise dark; the lightning fires - ‘Flash with a fiercer light.’ - Now sitting in the lodge, they talk - Of their mighty pale-face foe: - Pamunky broods with secret joy - Upon the impending blow; - But Powhatan walks up and down - With sadness in his eye; - For though it was his settled will - The pale-face foe should die, - Yet still he feels ’ -twould better suit - His prowess and his pride, - If warriors’ arms in the battle-field - The deadly strife had tried. - - -VI. - - And now all silent in the lodge, - The chiefs are both at rest; - But, oh! what wild and harrowing thoughts - Fair Metoka oppress’d. - She loved her sire, she loved his land: - She loved them as her life-- - What feeling in her heart is now - With that pure love at strife? - ’ -Tis pity, pleading for the lives - Of those who soon must fall-- - It pleadeth with an angel’s voice, - And loud as a trumpet-call. - Mayhap another feeling too - Its secret influence wrought - In her pure heart; but if ’ -twere so, - She understood it not-- - But true it was, that since Sir John - First pass’d before her sight, - _Something_ was twining round her heart; - She felt it day and night. - Her heart is sad, her bosom bleeds - For the cruel fate of those, - In whom she knows no crime or fault, - Nor can she deem them foes. - Alone and restless she looks out - Upon the fearful night; - The warring elements are there, - The lightning fires gleam bright; - She hears the muttering thunders growl - Along the distant hills, - And many a pause the thunders make - The wolves’ wild howling fills. - The awful clouds roll high and dark, - The winds have a roaring, sound, - The branches from stout trees are torn - And hurl’d upon the ground; - And now the rain in torrents falls-- - How her feeble limbs do shake! - Such gloom without, such grief within, - Her young heart sure must break. - - -VII. - - But Jamestown’s death-devoted sons - In conscious safety rest; - The natives, months before, had ceased - The pale-face to molest; - Pamunky’s rich and generous gift - Their confidence increased, - And on the morrow all would share - In joyfulness their feast. - ’ -Tis now the darkest midnight hour, - But yet Sir John sleeps not-- - He listeth to the storm without; - The rain beats down like shot - Against the wall and on the roof; - The wind is strong and high, - And bellowing thunders burst and roll - Athwart the troubled sky. - A moment’s pause--what sound is that? - A light tap at the door-- - Can mortal be abroad to-night? - That feeble tap once more-- - He opes the door; his dim light falls - Upon a slender form-- - The monarch’s daughter standeth there, - Like a spirit of the storm! - Through dark wild woods, in that fearful night, - She had peril’d life and limb, - And suffer’d all but death to bring - Safety and life to him. - And now, her object gain’d, she turns - In haste her home to seek-- - Sir John such strong emotion feels, - At first he scarce can speak: - But soon he urged her, while the storm - Was raging, to remain; - But she with earnestness replied, - ‘I must not heed the rain.’ - ‘But the night is dark, the way is rough, - ‘Till morning you must stay--’ - With tears she said, ‘I _must_ return - ‘Before the break of day.’ - ‘Then I will go with a file of men - ‘To guard you on your way--’ - But still her eyes with tears were fill’d, - And still she answer’d nay-- - ‘Through woods and rain to my father’s lodge - ‘I must return alone, - ‘And never must my father know - ‘The errand I have done.’ - And away she flew from the cottage door, - To the forest wild again: - Sir John upon the darkness look’d, - And listen’d to the rain; - And still he look’d where the pathway lay - Across the distant field, - Until the lightning’s sudden flash - Her flying form reveal’d; - And still with sad and anxious thought - And moveless eyes he stood, - Till he saw her by another flash - Enter the midnight wood.{24} - - -VIII. - - Day came and went--another pass’d-- - And now a week has gone-- - The dark-brow’d chiefs are puzzled much, - That the pale-face men live on. - Early and late had Powhatan - Been out on the calm hill-side, - But on the air no death-wail came - At morn or eventide: - And when his spies, returning home - From Jamestown day by day, - Told him the pale-face tree was green, - Nor blight upon it lay, - The doubting monarch shook his head, - And on his daughter cast - A look more chilling to her heart - Than winter’s dreary blast. - But not a word the monarch spoke; - His thought he never told; - Though she could often in his eye - That dreadful glance behold. - And though in all his troubled hours - To give him peace she strove, - And though she tried all tender ways - To touch his heart with love; - And though sometimes he smiled on her, - As once he used to smile, - Yet in his eye that cheerless look - Was lurking all the while; - And Metoka for many a day - His lost love did deplore, - And felt that her sweet peace of mind - Was gone forevermore. - Lonely and sad one day she sat - In her bower beside the spring, - When coming from the woods she saw - Approach Pamunky’s king. - He was her uncle, and though rough - To others he might prove, - To Metoka he nought had shown - But tenderness and love. - Then with a sad confiding look - She towards Pamunky ran, - Who told her he had come to bring - Great news to Powhatan; - And straightway to the council-hall - He led her by the hand, - Where chiefs and warriors eagerly - Around the monarch stand, - In deep debate, devising means - To crush the pale-face race; - But all, when came Pamunky’s king, - Stood back to give him place. - - -IX. - - ‘Your deep debate,’ Pamunky said, - ‘Ye may no longer hold, - ‘Nor longer fear our pale-face foe; - ‘His days at last are told. - ‘Their mighty werowance, Sir John, - ‘Who exercised such skill, - ‘That all the poison of our land - ‘Could not his people kill, - ‘His death-wound has received at last-- - ‘From their strange fire it came; - ‘That fire which thunders in their hands, - ‘And burns with a lightning flame-- - ‘That fire they brought across the sea, - ‘To hunt us from the earth, - ‘Has turn’d on them its serpent fang, - ‘And stung them to the death. - ‘I saw Sir John with his bleeding wounds, - ‘And his muffled face and head, - ‘Creep slowly to their tall ship’s deck, - ‘Like one that was near dead. - ‘And away that ship is sailing now - ‘Across the ocean wave, - ‘To carry Sir John to his English isle - ‘To rest in his English grave. - ‘And now this land is ours again; - ‘The rest of the pale-face crew - ‘We’ll brush away from our forest home, - ‘As we brush the drops of dew.’{25} - Great joy then felt King Powhatan, - Great joy felt all his men, - And wild and loud were the shouts that made - Their forests ring again. - No more in long suspense and fear - They lay like a strong man bound, - But light and free, the feast and song - Through all the tribes went round; - And every hunter freely breathed - Along by the winding shore, - And warriors trod their native woods - In conscious pride once more. - - -X. - - But where’s the straggling colonist, - Who came not home last night? - His friends are out in search of him - By the earliest morning light. - At last away in a lonely spot, - His bleeding corpse is found; - His scalp is off, and his gory head - Lies weltering on the ground. - His wife in yonder graveyard sleeps: - She long before had died; - They feel it were a pious act - To place him by her side; - And slow they bear the corse along - Where the homeward pathway leads, - But a deadly arrow cleaves the air, - And another victim bleeds. - They see no foe, they hear no sound, - But they know that death is nigh; - They fly, and leave the death-stricken one - Alone with the dead to die. - - -XI. - - Now deep the sorrow, pale the fear, - That fell on Jamestown’s sons; - New forts are built, their swords new sharp’d, - And loaded are their guns; - And all their homes are picketed, - And all their doors are barr’d, - And fifty men with loaded arms - By day and night keep guard. - And now they sadly wish Sir John - Were there again to throw - The terror of his valiant arm - Around their savage foe. - But where they could, and where they must, - They still their labor plied, - And in the field the farmer toil’d - With musket by his side. - Oh, these were sad and fearful days; - Death lurk’d in every sound; - And English blood was often spilt - Like water on the ground; - And eagerly revenge and fear - Watch’d every dark wood-side, - And the sound of many a musket shot - Told where an Indian died. - - -XII. - - Where rests the monarch’s daughter now? - Can she such scenes abide? - She’s gone a far and weary way, - To bright Potomac’s side. - The coldness of her father’s eye - Has made her eye grow dim-- - Sir John has gone beyond the sea, - And her heart is gone with him; - And the sound of war, and the sight of blood, - That stain’d her native wild, - Have thrown a gloom on the weary life - Of the fair and gentle child. - She could not rest in her father’s lodge, - Nor bide in her summer bower, - But wander’d alone about the woods, - And droop’d like a fading flower. - The monarch watch’d her changing hue - In sunshine and in shade, - And the father’s heart within him yearn’d - When he saw her beauty fade. - For fifteen years her joyous heart, - And smiling cheek and eye, - Had been the light of the old man’s life, - And he could not see her die. - - -XIII. - - He call’d her to his side, and said, - With kind and gentle tone, - ‘Why does my daughter weep all day, - ‘And wander thus alone? - ‘These days are evil days, my child, - ‘But long they will not last; - ‘I would thou hadst a safe retreat - ‘Till the raging storm be past. - ‘Potomac’s skies are bright and blue, - ‘Potomac’s groves are green, - ‘And brightly roll Potomac’s waves - ‘Her lovely banks between; - ‘And gladly would King Japazaws - ‘All friendly rites extend - ‘To the daughter of King Powhatan, - ‘His sovereign and his friend. - ‘Then go, my child, and rest awhile - ‘On fair Potomac’s side; - ‘There will thy days glide gently on, - ‘As the peaceful waters glide; - ‘And there young health will come again - ‘And kiss thy fading cheek, - ‘And in thy cheerful voice once more - ‘Thy mother’s soul will speak. - ‘No sound of war will there disturb - ‘Thy silent rest at night, - ‘Nor wilt thou wake to the sight of blood - ‘When comes the morning light. - ‘And when from our dark-shadow’d land - ‘The clouds shall all pass o’er, - ‘And all these strange and dreadful foes - ‘Are driven from our shore, - ‘Thou’lt come again, all life and love, - ‘In thy father’s lodge to rest, - ‘And the closing days of Powhatan - ‘Will yet be bright and blest.’ - Thus spoke the monarch, and away - His gentle child has gone, - A weary way through pathless woods, - Like a lost and lonely fawn; - And now, a sweet transplanted flower, - She breathes the balmy air - On fair Potomac’s sunny banks, - And sheds her fragrance there. - - -END OF CANTO SIXTH. - - - - -CANTO SEVENTH. - - -I. - - Still far along the winding James - War’s muttering thunders ran, - And dark and gloomy clouds hung round - The hills of Powhatan; - And, as the storm more threatening seem’d, - The savage fiercer grew, - And thick around the settlements - His hurtling arrows flew. - As Powhatan in council sat - Among his warriors brave, - And for the coming night’s campaign - His bloody orders gave, - Old Japazaws, who came not there - For many months before, - With hurrying step and haggard look - Came tottering to the door. - Each voice was hush’d, and every eye - Look’d anxiously about, - For well they knew no light affair - Had brought the old chief out. - - -II. - - ‘Speak, Japazaws,’ with sadden’d tone, - The anxious monarch said; - ‘Another cloud of blackness now - ‘Is settling o’er my head-- - ‘Soon as I saw thy steps approach, - ‘I felt it in the air, - ‘I felt it in my aching heart, - ‘I felt it every where. - ‘I see it now in thy speaking eye, - ‘So sorrowful and wild-- - ‘Speak out thy thoughts, and tell what blight - ‘Has come upon my child.’ - - -III. - - ‘Oh, sad the tale I have to tell,’ - The trembling chief replied, - ‘And gladly to have saved thy child, - ‘Would Japazaws have died. - ‘Like a beam of light fair Metoka - ‘Went dancing through our grove, - ‘Her voice was like the nightingale, - ‘Her spirit like the dove, - ‘And every thing was happier, - ‘On which her brightness shone; - ‘Such innocence and love were hers, - ‘We loved her as our own. - ‘But, oh, the cruel pale-face came, - ‘In his shallop dark and tall, - ‘And he seized her on the river bank-- - ‘We heard her feeble call, - ‘And ran to rescue, but in vain; - ‘They bore her from the shore, - ‘Away, away, and much I fear - ‘Thou’lt never see her more.’{26} - - -IV. - - The aged monarch bow’d his head - In bitterness of wo; - In all his long eventful life - This was the deadliest blow. - In manhood’s prime he had look’d on - And seen his kindred die, - Without one muscle quivering, - Without one tear or sigh. - Two generations he had seen - Swept from his wide domain; - And war, and peace, and lapse of years, - Had battled him in vain; - But when this last, this brightest hope - Was torn from him apart, - It shook the strength of his iron frame, - And pierced him to the heart. - The eyes of his fierce warriors glow’d - And flash’d with living fire; - And leave to fly and leave to fight - Is all they now require. - Pamunky rises in his might, - His voice is loud and high-- - ‘This instant let us seek the foe, - ‘And cut him down or die.’ - Like an angry tiger, Nantaquas - Sends fiery glances round, - And clutching his huge war-club, growls, - And fiercely beats the ground; - And a hundred warriors seize their arms - And foam like a raging flood; - And a hundred voices cry with thirst - For a taste of English blood. - But while they raged with furious heat, - And long’d for the coming fight, - A swiftly flying messenger - From the forest came in sight. - ’Twas faithful Rawhunt--six long days - At Jamestown he had been, - A captive in the picket fort-- - How came he free again? - He rushes to the council-hall - And stands before the king, - And listening warriors bend to hear - What tidings he may bring. - - -V. - - ‘O, sire,’ the faithful servant said, - ‘Would that the pale-face foe - ‘Had sent his lightning through the heart - ‘Of Rawhunt long ago; - ‘Then had I never lived to see - ‘The sorrow and distress - ‘Of that sweet child, whose life has been - ‘All love and tenderness. - ‘They led her to the inner fort-- - ‘I saw her as she pass’d; - ‘Her head was bent like a dying flower, - ‘And her tears were falling fast. - ‘And then their council bade me bear - ‘This message to my king, - ‘And ere the setting sun goes down - ‘His answer back to bring. - ‘The pale-face now, of Powhatan, - ‘Demands that war shall cease, - ‘And holds his daughter as a pledge - ‘That he will live at peace; - ‘But if another white man falls, - ‘Or a drop of blood is shed, - ‘That instant shall the monarch’s child - ‘Sleep with the sleeping dead. - ‘Twelve circling moons a captive bound - ‘Must Metoka remain, - ‘And if good faith be kept till then, - ‘She shall be free again. - ‘And more than this, great Powhatan - ‘His royal word must give - ‘To keep the truce, if he would have - ‘His daughter longer live; - ‘And I must fly with the monarch’s pledge, - ‘As swift as the eagle flies, - ‘For if the pledge come not to-night, - ‘_This night his daughter dies_.’ - He ceased, and silence fill’d the hall, - Like midnight deep and still; - All eyes were bent on Powhatan, - Waiting the monarch’s will. - - -VI. - - Then slowly look’d the old chief round; - In his eye a strange light shone, - And slowly these brief words he spoke - In a strange and solemn tone. - ‘The Spirit wills it--we must yield-- - ‘For vain the power of man - ‘To strive against the Spirit’s power: - ‘Gladly would Powhatan, - ‘Alone, unaided, meet the foe, - ‘And all his host defy-- - ‘But the Spirit wills it--we must yield-- - ‘_That daughter must not die._’ - Fair wampum-belts of shining hue - Were hanging on the wall; - The monarch took from its resting-place - The richest one of all; - And placing it on Rawhunt’s arm, - He bade him speed his flight, - And bear it to the pale-face chiefs - Ere fall the shades of night; - And tell them, ‘Powhatan accepts - ‘The proffer they have made: - ‘If they are faithful to the truce, - ‘’Twill be by him obey’d.’ - Swiftly the faithful Rawhunt flew - Away through the distant wood; - But the monarch still among his chiefs - Like a solemn statue stood. - At last, with sadden’d look and tone, - The chiefs he thus address’d: - ‘The old tree cannot always last; - ‘The monarch needeth rest. - ‘While twelve fair moons in quietness - ‘Shall run their circling round, - ‘No war-whoop will awake the woods, - ‘No blood will stain the ground. - ‘Till then, to a solitary lodge - ‘Will Powhatan depart, - ‘And rest his head from weary cares, - ‘And rest his weary heart. - ‘Meantime let brave Pamunky’s king - ‘Our sovereign sceptre sway, - ‘And him, instead of Powhatan, - ‘Let all the tribes obey.’ - He said--and slowly round the hall - A sober look he cast; - A lingering, doubting, troubled look, - As though it were the last; - And taking up his bow and club, - That lean’d against the wall, - The monarch turn’d with stately step - And left the silent hall. - - -VII. - - Far up the Chickahominy - The banks are green and fair, - And through the groves of Orapakes - There breathes a balmy air; - And there beneath tall shady trees - A quiet lodge is found; - Bright birds are darting through the boughs - And hopping on the ground; - Refreshing waters from the hills - Through groves and valleys glide; - And gentle deer come down to drink - By the cool river-side; - And there among the stout old trees, - From toil and conflict free, - The aged monarch moves about, - And muses silently. - He sighs to think of his distant child - At night on his bed of fur: - And if he sleep in the lonely hours, - ’Tis but to dream of her. - And he thinks of her in his sunny walks, - With the sportive deer about, - And he thinks of her by the bending brook - Where glides the golden trout. - - -VIII. - - Long time had Opechancanough - A burning hatred borne - Against the pale-face, who had caused - His native land to mourn. - Sir John had led him by the hair,{27} - With pistol at his breast; - The rankling thought was a raging fire, - That never let him rest. - And the insult offer’d to his god - He never could forget, - Till the sun of this whole hated race - In night and blood should set. - Sage Powhatan knew well the power - The English arms possess’d, - And made his warriors keep aloof, - And their rash fire repress’d. - But now Pamunky is the chief, - Whom all the tribes obey, - And vengeance its hot strife for blood - No longer will delay. - He boldly goes to the white man’s lodge, - And talks of friendship’s chain, - And tells how strong and bright it is, - And long shall so remain; - And all unarm’d his warriors roam - The colonists among, - And words of peace and kindness flow - From every Indian tongue. - But in his deep and gloomy wilds, - Where white man never came, - He breathed into his warriors’ hearts - His bosom’s burning flame. - And round and round, from tribe to tribe, - Through many a summer’s night, - He whisper’d dark words in their ears - Beneath the dim starlight: - And a thousand times those mutter’d words - In his low breath were said, - And a thousand hearts their secret kept, - As voiceless as the dead. - He bade them think of Powhatan, - An exile sad and lone; - And the pleasant light of that lovely star - That once among them shone; - He bade them think of Okee’s wrongs - Received from the pale-face crew; - And the deadly shade that the pale-face tree - Far over the land now threw. - The secret fire is kindling well; - A thousand hearts are strong, - And a thousand eager warriors wait - To avenge their country’s wrong. - - -IX. - - The day of blood arrives at last, - When vengeance shall be hurl’d - On every pale-face in the land, - And sweep him from the world. - Through the silent night, in the upland groves, - And down by the murky fen, - And deep in the solitary wood, - There’s a mustering of men-- - Old Chesapeake sends forth the tribes - That live along the shore; - Potomac’s warriors, arm’d for death, - Are on the march once more; - Fierce Kecoughtans and Nansamonds - Creep noiselessly along; - Pamunky’s valiant tribe sends out - A band five hundred strong; - And a hundred silent winding streams, - By the twinkling stars’ dim light, - Beheld dark warriors whispering - Along their banks that night. - Each band knew well its pathless route - In darkness or in day: - Each had its several task assign’d, - And panted for its prey. - They came where the outer settlements - Were skirted by the wood, - And waiting for the appointed hour, - In breathless silence stood. - The gray tops of the cottages - Gleam’d in the misty air; - They look’d and listen’d eagerly-- - No light, no sound was there. - No watchful guards with loaded arms - In field or fort appear; - There lay the slumbering colony - Without defence or fear. - - -X. - - The morning-star is in the sky-- - The signal word is given, - And a hundred blazing torches flash - In the starry vault of heaven; - And from a hundred blazing homes - Rings out a piercing cry, - As the sleeper wakes, and the flames of death - Glare on his waking eye. - But a wilder scream, a fiendish yell, - Comes back to his ear again, - As he rushes out, and a savage blow - Has crush’d him to the plain. - When morning came, the sun look’d down - Where many a cottage stood; - But he only saw black smouldering heaps, - And fields that smoked with blood.{28} - In all the outer settlements - The work of death was o’er, - And full three hundred colonists - Lay weltering in their gore. - - -XI. - - But Jamestown show’d another sight - To that bright morning sun-- - Three hundred hostile men stood there, - All arm’d with sword and gun, - And breathing out a stern resolve - To hunt the savage race, - With fire and sword and ceaseless war, - Till not a single trace - Of all the tribes of Powhatan - Should in the land be seen, - To cry for blood, or tell the world - That such a race had been. - How these were saved from blood and death - On that red night of wo, - The Indian never knew, and now - It matters not to know. - Enough, that timely warning came - For them to up and arm; - That when the gleam of the Indian torch - Flash’d out its first alarm, - A dozen muskets blazed at once, - And torch and bearer fell, - And the foe fled swift when he heard the roar - Through the echoing forest swell. - - -XII. - - Henceforth the course of war is changed-- - In one devoted band - The desperate colonists march forth - In arms to scour the land; - And the flying savage, looking back - From the hill-top, often sees - The flames of his burning lodge dart up - Above the forest trees. - The blood of old and young alike - Is pour’d upon the plains, - And through the realm of Powhatan - Wide desolation reigns. - Like hunted deer through grove and glen - The bleeding victims die, - And villages by the river banks - In smoking ruins lie. - At last the broken, flying tribes - In many a rallying band, - Meet round the home of Powhatan - For one more desperate stand. - And here an oath each warrior swears, - To fall--if he must fall-- - With face to the foe, and hand to his bow, - And his back to the council-hall. - - -XIII. - - The fearful battle soon grows warm - Between the opposing foes-- - Three hundred muskets in the field - Against three thousand bows. - And thickly flew with deadly aim - The Indian arrows then; - But where one man by an arrow fell, - The musket slaughter’d ten. - Pamunky, wounded, leaves the field, - Stout Nantaquas is slain, - And many a brave and valiant chief - Lies stretch’d upon the plain; - But still the battle fiercer grows - Till near the close of day, - And neither side the victory gains, - And neither side gives way. - And now with sword and bayonet, - Their ammunition gone, - With firmness toward the faltering foe - The colonists press on, - And hand to hand, and foot to foot, - Their deadly weapons ply-- - The white man takes the ground at last, - The Indians fall or fly. - - -XIV. - - That instant, bounding from the wood, - A furious warrior came; - His weapon was a huge war-club, - His eye a living flame-- - And as he rush’d to the battle-field - He shouted with his might-- - The old woods leapt at the well-known sound, - As if they felt delight. - He paused a moment to survey - The dying and the dead: - His fallen warriors strew’d the ground; - The living few had fled; - And now before the conquering foe - There stood but a single man-- - But fierce the conflict yet must rage, - _For he was Powhatan_. - The monarch’s back to mortal foe - Had never yet been given, - And, come what will, he meets it now - In the face of earth and heaven. - Swinging his knotted war-club high, - To the thickest ranks he press’d, - Where fifty swords and bayonets - Were pointed to his breast, - And up and down, this way and that, - His ponderous weapon threw, - And broken muskets strew’d the ground, - And swords like feathers flew. - In vain the rallying forces came - To aid the falling band; - Numbers, nor arms, nor courage could - The monarch’s rage withstand. - At last, pale-faces in their turn - To the sheltering forest fly, - Nor longer hold the king at bay, - For, they that linger, die. - - -XV. - - The aged monarch stood alone, - By his council-hall again; - The unbending monarch, unsubdued, - King of his bloody plain. - But what was that red plain to him? - His groves? his country? all? - In his lodge there were no loved ones now, - No voice in his council-hall. - The old man’s heart was desolate-- - His warriors all were dead; - He knew the pale-face tree had root, - And far and wide would spread. - And sadly toward the western sky - He turn’d his weary eyes, - Where mountains blue are dimly seen, - And the land of spirits lies; - And he thought, could he lay his aged bones - In that peaceful land to rest, - Where the pale-face foe could never come, - The red man to molest; - Where his gather’d tribes might hunt the deer - Through the forest wilds again, - And plant their corn in peace once more - Upon the sunny plain; - And where by the shadowy mountain’s brow; - He in his quiet cot - His wife and children might behold, - ’Twould be a blessed lot; - And casting one long, painful look - On his lost land and home, - Ere through the western wilds afar - A pilgrim he should roam, - He took his war-club for a staff, - And his footsteps westward turn’d, - And sought for rest in the far-off land, - Where the ruddy sunset burn’d. - - -END OF THE LAST CANTO. - - - - -NOTES. - - -[NOTE 1--CANTO FIRST, SECT. I. - - Far in their mountain lurking-place - The Manakins had heard his fame, - And Manahocks dared not come down - His valleys to pursue their game. - -The Manakins and Manahocs, or Manahoacs, dwelt in the hilly country -above the falls of the great rivers which empty into Chesapeake Bay; -while the dominion of Powhatan extended over the whole of the flat -country below the falls. The Manakins dwelt on the head waters of the -James River, and the Manahocs on the head waters of the Potomac and -Rappahannock. They were subdivided into several nations or tribes, and -formed a sort of league or confederacy of the upland and mountain -Indians against the power and tyranny of Powhatan. The Manakins -consisted of four or five tribes, and the Manahocs of eight, and the -whole, being combined in firm league against the empire of Powhatan, -must have constituted rather a formidable foe.] - - -[NOTE 2--CANTO FIRST, SECT. I.] - - And Susquehannah’s giant race. - -This powerful tribe, dwelling along the valley of the Susquehannah, -bearing the name of that noble stream, and commanding its waters even to -the head of Chesapeake Bay, is represented by the early adventurers in -Virginia to have been a race of gigantic stature. The romantic spirit of -Captain Smith, delighting as he did in the marvellous, probably may have -given some coloring to his descriptions in matters of mere opinion, but -where he describes facts that came within his knowledge, his truth and -candor may always be relied upon. He says, “Such great and -well-proportioned men are seldom seen; for they seemed like giants to -the English, yea, and to the neighbors, yet seemed of an honest and -simple disposition, with much ado restrained from adoring us as gods.” - -The following curious account of this tribe is from the grave and -matter-of-fact historian Stith; borrowed however principally from Smith. - -“Their language and attire were very suitable to their stature and -appearance. For their language sounded deep and solemn, and hollow, like -a voice in a vault. Their attire was the skins of bears and wolves, so -cut that the man’s head went through the neck, and the ears of the bear -were fastened on his shoulders, while the nose and teeth hung dangling -down upon his breast. Behind, was another bear’s face split, with a paw -hanging at the nose. And their sleeves coming down to their elbows, were -the necks of bears, with their arms going through the mouth, and paws -hanging to the nose. One had the head of a wolf, hanging to a chain, for -a jewel; and his tobacco pipe was three-quarters of a yard long, carved -with a bird, a deer, and other devices at the great end, which was -sufficient to beat out a man’s brains. They measured the calf of the -largest man’s leg, and found it three-quarters of a yard about, and all -the rest of his limbs were in proportion; so that he seemed the -stateliest and most goodly personage they had ever beheld. His arrows -were three-quarters long, headed with splinters of a white crystal-like -stone, in the form of a heart, an inch broad, and an inch and a half -long. These he carried at his back, in a wolf’s skin for a quiver, with -his bow in one hand and his club in the other.” - - -[NOTE 3--CANTO FIRST, SECT. I.] - - And thirty tribes one monarch bless’d. - -“He had under him thirty werowances, or inferior kings, who had power of -life and death, but were bound to govern according to the customs of the -country.”--_Stith’s Virginia._ - - * * * * * - -All accounts agree that Powhatan had under his dominion thirty tribes, -and some of our chronicles locate them as follows. Ten tribes between -the Potomac and Rappahannock, five between the Rappahannock and York, -eight between the York and James, five between the James River and the -borders of Carolina, and two on the eastern shore of Chesapeake Bay. - - -[NOTE 4--CANTO FIRST, SECT. III.] - - Deep in a sea of waving wood - The monarch’s rustic lodge was seen, - Where brightly roll’d the river down, - And gently sloped the banks of green. - -Powhatan’s principal place of residence at the time of the arrival of -the English, was on the James River, a little below the spot where -Richmond now stands. He resided, however, a part of the time at -Werowocomoco, on York River, about ten or a dozen miles from Jamestown; -and a part of the time at Orapakes, up the river Chickahominy. - - -[NOTE 5--CANTO FIRST, SECT. VIII.] - - His plume is a raven wing. - -“Some on their heads wear the wing of a bird, or some large feather with -a rattel. Those rattels are somewhat like the shape of a rapier, but -lesse, which they take from the taile of a snake. Many have the whole -skinne of a hawke or some strange foule, stuffed, with the wings -abroad.”--_Smith’s History of Virginia._ - - -[NOTE 6--CANTO FIRST, SECT. XIII.] - - And Madoc and his host were withered from the world. - -“The chronicles of Wales report, that Madoc, sonne to Owen Quineth, -Prince of Wales, seeing his two brethren at debate, who should inherit, -prepared certaine ships, with men and munition, and left his country to -seeke adventures by sea. Leaving Ireland north, he sayled west till he -came to a land unknowne. Returning home and relating what pleasant and -fruitful countries he had seene without inhabitants, and for what barren -land his brethren and kindred did murther one another, he provided a -number of ships, and got with him such men and women as were desirous to -live in quietnesse, that arrived with him in this new land in the year -1170; left many of his people there and returned for more. But where -this place was no history can show.”--_Captain John Smith._ - - * * * * * - -“On the death of Owen Gwyneth, king of North Wales, A. D. 1169, his -children disputed the succession. Yorwerth, the elder, was set aside -without a struggle, as being incapacitated by a blemish in his face. -Hoel obtained possession of the throne for awhile, till he was defeated -and slain by David, the eldest son of the late king by a second wife. -The conqueror, who then succeeded without opposition, slew Yorwerth, -imprisoned Rodri, and hunted others of his brethren into exile. But -Madoc meantime abandoned his barbarous country, and sailed away to the -west in search of some better resting-place. The land which he -discovered pleased him. He left there part of his people, and went back -to Wales for a fresh supply of adventurers, with whom he again set sail, -and was heard of no more.”--_Preface to Southey’s Madoc._ - - * * * * * - -“_Welsh Indians._--Father Reichard, of Detroit, from whom I received the -facts just stated, informed me at the same time, that in 1793 he was -told at Fort Chartres, that twelve years before, Capt. Lord commanded -this post, who heard some of the old people observe, that Mandan Indians -visited this post, and could converse intelligibly with some Welsh -soldiers in the British army. This is here given, that any person, who -may have the opportunity, may ascertain whether there is any affinity -between the Mandan and Welsh languages.”--_Dr. Morse’s Indian Report._ - - -[NOTE 7--CANTO FIRST, SECT. XIII.] - - Unto their pale-face leader show - The pipe of peace and warlike bow. - -“As they proceeded up the river, another company of Indians appeared in -arms. Their chief, Apamatica, holding in one hand his bow and arrows, -and in the other a pipe of tobacco, demanded the cause of their -coming.”--_Smith’s Virginia._ - - -[NOTE 8--CANTO FIRST, SECT. XIV.] - - As round his brawny limbs he drew - His feathery mantle, broad and blue. - -“For their apparell they are sometimes covered with the skins of wild -beasts, which in winter are dressed with the hayre, but in summer -without. The better sort use large mantels of deer skins, not much -differing in fashion from the Irish mantels. Some imbrodered with white -beads, some with copper, other painted after their manner. - -“We have seen some use mantels made of turkey feathers, so prettily -wrought and woven with threads that nothing could be discerned but the -feathers. That was exceeding warm and very handsome.”--_Smith’s History -of Virginia._ - - -[NOTE 9--CANTO SECOND, SECT. I.] - - A stout and trusty guard was placed - Around the lodge, whose hands embraced - The battle-axe or bended bow, - Ready to meet a coming foe. - -“About his person ordinarily attendeth a guard of forty or fifty of the -tallest men his country doth afford. Every night upon the four quarters -of his house are four sentinels, each from other a light shoot, and at -every half hour one from the _corps du guard_ doth hollow, shaking his -lips with his finger betweene them; unto whom every sentinel doth answer -round from his stand. If any faile, they presently send forth an officer -that beateth him extremely.”--_Smith’s Virginia._ - - -[NOTE 10--CANTO SECOND, SECT. VIII.] - - Then through that long and mystic reed, - Emblem of many a sacred deed, - Three solemn draughts the monarch drew, - And the smoke in three directions blew. - -“When they smoke, the first puff is upward, intended for the Great -Spirit, as an act of homage to him; the next is to their mother _earth_, -whence they derive their corn and other sustenance; the third is -horizontal, expressive of their good-will to their fellow men.”--_Dr. -Morse’s Indian Report._ - - -[NOTE 11--CANTO SECOND, SECT. XIII.] - - The voice of Powhatan was law. - -“He nor any of his people understand any letters whereby to write or -read; only the laws whereby he ruleth is custome. Yet when he listeth, -his will is a law and must be obeyed. Not only as a king, but as half a -God they esteme him. His inferior kings, whom they call werowances, are -tyed to rule by customes, and have power of life and death at their -command in that nature. - -“They all know their severall lands, and habitations, and limits, to -fish, foule, or hunt in, but they hold all of their great werowance -Powhatan, unto whom they pay tribute of skinnes, beads, copper, pearle, -deere, turkies, wild beasts, and corne. What he commandeth they dare not -disobey in the least thing. It is strange to see with what great fear -and adoration all these people doe obey this Powhatan. For at his feete -they present whatsoever he commandeth, and at the least frown of his -brow their greatest spirits will tremble with fear: and no marvell, for -he is very terrible and tyrannous in punishing such as offend -him.”--_Captain John Smith._ - - -[NOTE 12--CANTO THIRD, SECT. III.] - - Of all the knights of England, - That ever in armor shone, - The boldest and the truest heart - Was that of brave Sir John. - He had pass’d through perils on the land, - And perils on the sea, - And oftentimes confronted death - In Gaul and Germany; - And many a Transylvanian - Could point to the spot and show - Where the boldest of the Turkish knights - Were by his hand laid low. - And when confined in dungeons, - Or driven as a slave, - The rescue, that his own arm brought, - Proved well Sir John was brave. - -The following brief biographical sketch of Capt. John Smith is quoted in -Burk’s Virginia, as from “a late American biographer;” [probably -Belknap.] - -“He was born at Willoughby, in Lincolnshire [England] in the year one -thousand five hundred and seventy-nine. From the first dawn of reason he -discovered a roving and romantic genius, and delighted in extravagant -and daring actions among his school-fellows. When about thirteen years -of age, he sold his books and satchel, and his puerile trinkets, to -raise money, with a view to convey himself privately to sea; but the -death of his father put a stop for the present to this attempt, and -threw him into the hands of guardians, who endeavored to check the -ardor of his genius, by confining him to a compting house. Being put -apprentice to a merchant at Lynn, at the age of fifteen, he at first -conceived hopes that his master would send him to sea in his service; -but this hope failing, he quitted his master, and with only ten -shillings in his pocket, entered into the train of a young nobleman who -was travelling to France. - -“At Orleans he was discharged from his attendance on Lord Bertie, and -had money given to return to England. - -“With this money he visited Paris, and proceeded to the Low Countries, -where he enlisted as a soldier, and learned the rudiments of war, a -science peculiarly agreeable to his ardent and active genius. Meeting -with a Scots gentleman abroad, he was persuaded to pass into Scotland, -with the promise of being strongly recommended to King James. But being -baffled in this expectation, he returned to his native town, and finding -no company there, which suited his taste, he built a booth in the wood, -and betook himself to the study of military history and tactics, -diverting himself at intervals with his horse and lance; in which -exercises he at length found a companion, an Italian gentleman, rider to -the Earl of Lincoln, who drew him from his sylvan retreat to Tattersal. - -“Having recovered a part of the estate which his father had left him, he -put himself into a better condition than before, and set off again on -his travels, in the winter of the year one thousand five hundred and -ninety-six, being then only seventeen years of age. His first stage was -Flanders, where meeting with a Frenchman, who pretended to be heir to a -noble family, he with his three attendants prevailed upon Smith to go -with them to France. In a dark night they arrived at St. Valory, in -Picardy, and by the connivance of the shipmaster, the Frenchmen were -carried ashore with the trunks of our young traveller, whilst he was -left on board till the return of the boat. In the mean time they had -conveyed the baggage out of his reach, and were not to be found. A -sailor on board, who knew the villains, generously undertook to conduct -him to Mortain, where they lived, and supplied his wants till their -arrival at the place. Here he found their friends, from whom he could -get no recompense, but the report of his sufferings induced several -persons of distinction to invite him to their houses. - -“Eager to pursue his travels, and not caring to receive favors which he -was unable to requite, he left his new friends, and went from port to -port in search of a ship of war. In one of these rambles near Dinan, it -was his chance to meet one of the villains who had robbed him. Without -speaking a word, they both drew; and Smith having wounded and disarmed -his antagonist, obliged him to confess his guilt before a number of -persons, who had assembled on the occasion. Satisfied with his victory, -he retired to the seat of an acquaintance, the Earl of Ployer, who had -been brought up in England; and having received supplies from him, he -travelled along the French coast to Bayonne, and from thence crossed -over to Marseilles; visiting and observing every thing in his way, which -had any reference to military or naval architecture. - -“At Marseilles he embarked for Italy, in company with a rabble of -pilgrims. The ship was forced by a tempest into the harbor of Toulon, -and afterwards obliged by a contrary wind to anchor under the little -island of St. Mary, off Nice, in Savoy. The bigotry of the pilgrims made -them ascribe their ill-fortune to the presence of a heretic on board. -They devoutly cursed Smith and his queen, Elizabeth, and in a fit of -pious rage threw him into the sea. He swam to the island, and the next -day was taken on board a ship of St. Malo which had also put in there -for shelter. The master of the ship, who was well known to his noble -friend the Earl of Ployer, entertained him kindly, and carried him to -Alexandria in Egypt; from thence he coasted the Levant, and on his -return had the high satisfaction of an engagement with a Venetian ship, -which they took and rifled of her rich cargo. - -“Smith was set on shore at Antibes, with a box of one thousand chequins, -(about two thousand dollars,) by the help of which he made the tour of -Italy, crossed the Adriatic, and travelled into Stiria, to the seat of -Ferdinand, archduke of Austria. Here he met with an English and Irish -Jesuit, who introduced him to Lord Eberspaught, Baron Kisel, and other -officers of distinction; and here he found full scope for his genius; -for the emperor being then at war with the Turks, he entered into his -army as a volunteer. - -“He communicated to Eberspaught a method of conversing at a distance by -signals made with torches, which being alternately shown and hidden a -certain number of times, designated every letter of the alphabet. - -“He had soon after an opportunity of making the experiment. Eberspaught, -being besieged by the Turks in the strong town of Olimpack, was cut off -from all intelligence and hope of succor from his friends. Smith -proposed his method of communication to Baron Kisel, who approved it, -and allowed him to put it in practice. He was conveyed by a guard to a -hill within view of the town, and sufficiently remote from the Turkish -camp. At the display of the signal, Eberspaught knew and answered it; -and Smith conveyed to him this intelligence: ‘Thursday night I will -charge on the east; at the alarm, sally thou.’ The answer was, ‘I will.’ - -“Just before the attack, by Smith’s advice, a great number of false -fires were made in another quarter, which divided the attention of the -enemy, and gave advantage to the assailants; who being assisted by a -sally from the town, killed many of the Turks, drove others into the -river, and threw succors into the place, which obliged the enemy next -day to raise the siege. This well-conducted exploit produced to our -young adventurer the command of a company, consisting of two hundred and -fifty horsemen, in the regiment of Count Meldrich, a nobleman of -Transylvania. - -“The regiment in which he served, being engaged in several hazardous -enterprises, Smith was foremost in all dangers, and distinguished -himself by his ingenuity and by his valor: and when Meldrich left the -imperial army and passed into the service of his native prince, Smith -followed him. - -“At the siege of Regal, the Ottomans derided the slow approaches of the -Transylvanian army, and sent a challenge, purporting that the lord -Turbisha, to divert the ladies, would fight any single captain of the -Christian troops. - -“The honor of accepting this challenge, being determined by lot, fell on -Captain Smith; who meeting his antagonist on horseback, within view of -the ladies on the battlements, at the sound of music began the -encounter, and in a short time killed him, and bore away his head in -triumph to his general, the lord Moyzes. - -“The death of the chief so irritated his friend Crualgo, that he sent a -particular challenge to the conqueror, who, meeting him with the same -ceremonies, after a smart combat, took off his head also. - -“Smith then in his turn sent a message into the town, informing the -ladies, that if they wished for more diversion, they should be welcome -to his head, in case their third champion could take it. - -“The challenge was accepted by Bonamalgro, who unhorsed Smith, and was -near gaining the victory; but remounting in a critical moment he gave -the Turk a stroke with his falchion, which brought him to the ground, -and his head was added to the number. - -“For these singular exploits he was honored with a military procession, -consisting of six thousand men, three led horses, and the Turks’ heads -on the points of their lances. With this ceremony Smith was conducted to -the pavilion of his general, who, after embracing him, presented him -with a horse richly furnished, a scymetar and belt worth three hundred -ducats, and a commission to be major in his regiment. - -“The prince of Transylvania, after the capture of the place, made him a -present of his picture set in gold, and a pension of three hundred -ducats per annum; and moreover granted him a coat of arms, bearing three -Turks’ heads in a shield. - -“The patent was admitted and received in the college of heralds in -England, by Sir Henry Segar, garter king at arms. Smith was always proud -of this distinguished honor, and these arms are accordingly blazoned in -the frontispiece to his history, with this motto, ‘_Vincere est -vivere_.’ - -“After this, the Transylvanian army was defeated by a body of Turks and -Tartars near Rotention, and many brave men were slain, among whom were -nine English and Scots officers, who, after the fashion of that day, had -entered into this service, from a religious zeal to drive the Turks out -of Christendom. - -“Smith was wounded in this battle and lay among the dead. His habit -discovered him to the victors as a person of consequence; they used him -well till his wounds were healed, and then sold him to the Basha Bogul, -who sent him as a present to his mistress, Tragabigzanda at -Constantinople, accompanied with a message, as full of vanity as void of -truth, that he had conquered a Bohemian nobleman, and presented him to -her as a slave. - -“The present proved more acceptable to the lady than her lord intended. -She could speak Italian; and Smith in that language not only informed -her of his country and quality, but conversed with her in so pleasing a -manner as to gain her affections. The connection proved so tender, that -to secure him for herself, and to prevent his being ill-used, she sent -him to her brother, the bashaw of Nalbraitz, in the country of the -Cambrian Tartars on the borders of the sea of Azoph. Her pretence was, -that he should there learn the manners and language as well as religion -of the Tartars. - -“By the terms in which she wrote to her brother, he suspected her -design, and resolved to disappoint her. Within an hour after Smith’s -arrival he was stripped, his head and beard were shaven, an iron collar -was put about his neck, he was clothed with a coat of hair-cloth, and -driven to labor among the Christian slaves. - -“He had now no hope of redemption, but from the love of his mistress, -who was at a great distance, and not likely to be informed of his -misfortunes. The hopeless condition of his fellow slaves could not -alleviate his despondency. - -“In the depth of his distress an opportunity presented for an escape, -which to a person of less courageous and adventurous spirit would have -been an aggravation of misery. He was employed in threshing at a grange -in a large field, about a league from the house of his tyrant; who in -his daily visits treated him with abusive language, accompanied with -blows and kicks. - -“This was more than Smith could bear; wherefore watching an opportunity, -when no other person was present, he levelled a stroke at him with his -threshing instrument, which dispatched him. - -“Then hiding his body in the straw, and shutting the door, he filled a -bag with grain, mounted the bashaw’s horse, and betaking himself to the -desert, wandered for two or three days, ignorant of the way, and so -fortunate as not to meet with a single person, who might give -information of his flight. - -“At length he came to a post, erected in a cross road, by the marks on -which he found the way to Muscovy, and in sixteen days he arrived at -Exapolis, on the river Don; where was a Russian garrison, the commander -of which, understanding that he was a Christian, received him -courteously, took off his iron collar, and gave him letters to the other -governors in that region. - -“Thus he travelled through part of Russia and Poland, till he got back -to his friends in Transylvania; receiving presents in his way from many -persons of distinction, among whom he particularly mentions a charitable -lady, Callamata, being always proud of his connection with that sex, and -fond of acknowledging their favors. At Leipsic he met with his colonel, -Count Meldrich, and Sigismund, prince of Transylvania, who gave him one -thousand five hundred ducats to repair his losses. - -“With this money he was enabled to travel through Germany, France, and -Spain, and having visited the kingdom of Morocco, he returned by sea to -England; having in his passage enjoyed the pleasure of another naval -engagement. - -“At his arrival in his native country, he had a thousand ducats in his -purse, which, with the interest he had remaining in England, he devoted -to seek adventures and make discoveries in North America.” - -Reader, if thou hast perused the preceding sketch of the life of Captain -Smith, pause one moment, and reflect, that all that is here recorded, he -performed, passed through, and suffered, before he came to the wild -shores of the new world. And that here he entered upon a new field of -enterprise, and of suffering, and of daring, not less remarkable than -the scenes which had already given such wonderful interest to his -eventful life. Follow him to the wilderness of Virginia, and witness the -toils and struggles he went through to plant the first European -settlement in these states. Behold him the guardian spirit of the little -colony, in repeated instances and in various ways protecting it by his -single arm from utter destruction. When the colony was sinking under -famine, the energy and activity of Smith always brought them food; when -beset by the subtle and ferocious tribes around them, the courage and -skill of Smith never failed to prove a safe and sufficient shield for -their protection. When traitors among them sought to rob and abandon the -colony, they were detected by his penetration and punished by his power. -It mattered not what nominal rank he held in the colony, whether vested -with office, or filling only the humble post of a private individual, it -was to him that all eyes were turned in times of difficulty and danger, -and it was his name alone that struck terror to the hearts of the -hostile savages. - -With a dozen men in an open boat, he performs a voyage of a thousand -miles, surveying the shores of the great Chesapeake Bay and exploring -its noble tributary streams, with thousands of the wild sons of the -forest ready to meet him at every turn. When, in the cabin of the -powerful chief Opechancanough, five hundred warriors, armed with bow and -club, surrounded him with a determination to seize him and put him to -death, who but Captain John Smith would have extricated himself from his -perilous situation? Nothing daunted, he seized the giant chieftain by -the hair of his head with one hand, held a pistol to his breast with the -other, and led him out trembling among his people, and made them throw -down their arms. - -In short, for romantic adventure, “hair-breadth escapes,” the sublimity -of courage, high and honorable feeling, and true worth of character, the -history of the world may be challenged to produce a parallel to Captain -John Smith, the founder of Virginia. - - -[NOTE 13--CANTO THIRD, SECT. I.] - - And well might English hearts beat high, - When first they breathed thy virgin air; - For never to them seem’d sky so bright, - Nor ever a land so fair. - -“Every object that struck their senses, as they sailed up the -Chesapeake, was well calculated to awaken hope in the minds of the -adventurers. They were almost enclosed in one of the most spacious bays -in the world; whilst the rich verdure, with which a genial and early -spring had clad the forest, ascending from the edge of the shore to the -summits of the hills, presented a prospect at once regular and -magnificent. It was a sort of vast amphitheatre, the limits of which -were the horizon; and when to the real beauty of the landscape, be added -the ardent spirit of adventure, which delights in the marvellous, and -kindles and dilates itself by the enthusiasm of fancy; there is little -cause for our surprise at the glowing descriptions of the first -settlers, who represented it as a kind of earthly paradise or -elisium.”--_Burk’s History of Virginia._ - - * * * * * - -There is a simplicity and an occasional richness in the original -descriptions of Captain Smith, which cannot fail to be relished by the -reader. - - * * * * * - -“There is but one entrance by sea into this country, and that is at the -mouth of a very goodly bay eighteen or twenty miles broad. The cape at -the south is Cape Henry, in honor of our most noble prince. The land -white hilly sands, like unto the Downes, and all along the shores great -plentie of pines and firres. - -“The north cape is called Cape Charles, in honor of the worthy Duke of -Yorke; the isles before it, Smith’s Isles, by the name of the -discoverer. Within is a country that may have the prerogative over the -most pleasant places knowne, for large and pleasant navigable rivers; -heaven and earth never agreed better to frame a place for man’s -habitation. Here are mountains, hills, plains, valleys, rivers, and -brookes, all running most pleasantly into a faire bay, compassed but for -the mouth with fruitful and delightsome land. - -“The mountains are of divers natures; for at the head of the bay the -rockes are of a composition like millstones. Some of marble, &c. And -many pieces like christall, we found, as throwne downe by water from -those mountains. These waters wash from the rockes such glistering -tinctures, that the ground in some places seemeth as guilded, where both -the rockes and the earth are so splendent to behold, _that better -judgements than ours might have beene persuaded they contained more than -probabilities_. The vesture of the earth in most places doth manifestly -prove the nature of the soyle to be lusty and very rich. - -“The country is not mountainous, nor yet low; but such pleasant plaines, -hils, and fertile valleyes, one prettily crossing another, and watered -so conveniently with fresh brooks and springs, no less commodious and -delightsome. By the rivers are many plaine marishes. Other plaines there -are few, but only where the savages inhabit; but all overgrowne with -trees and weeds, being a plaine wilderness as God first made it. - -“The windes here are variable, but the like thunder and lightning to -purify the air, I have seldome either seene or heard in -Europe.”--_Smith’s Virginia, published in London, 1629._ - - * * * * * - -In the same work, giving an account of an earlier voyage of discovery to -the western continent, under the patronage of Sir Walter Raleigh, the -author says, “The second of July they fell with the coast of Florida in -shoule water, where they felt a most delicate sweete smell. They found -their first landing-place very sandy and low, but so full of grapes, -that the very surge of the sea sometimes overflowed them; of which they -found such plenty in all places, both on the sand, the greene soyle and -hils, as in the plaines, as well on every little shrub, as also climbing -towards the tops of high cedars, that they did thinke in the world were -not the like abundance.” * * * * - -“Discharging our muskets, such a flocke of cranes, the most white, arose -by us, with such a cry as if an army of men had shouted altogether.” - -The woods contained “the highest and reddest cedars of the world, -bettering them of the Assores, Indies or Libanus; pines, cypress, -saxefras, the lentish that beareth mastick, and many other of excellent -smell and quality.” - -“The soyle is most plentifull, sweete, wholesome, and fruitfull of all -other; there are about fourteen severall sorts of sweete smelling tymber -trees; such oaks as we, but far greater and better.” - - -[NOTE 14--CANTO THIRD, SECT. III.] - - And pale disease began to spread, - And scowling famine rear’d her head, - And many an exile droop’d and died - Along the lonely river side, - Where wearily he went to roam - And weep unseen for his English home. - -Though the colony were several times threatened with famine while -Captain Smith remained with them, yet the activity, talents and vigorous -exertions of that remarkable man never failed to bring them a timely -supply of provisions. - -But after Smith was compelled, in consequence of a wound received from -an explosion of gunpowder, to return to England, the sufferings of the -colony were almost unparalleled. The following sad picture of the -extremities to which they were reduced, is given by one of the writers -in Smith’s History of Virginia. - -“Of five hundred, within six months after Captain Smith’s departure, -there remained not past sixtie men, women, and children, most miserable -and poor creatures; and those were preserved for the most part, by -roots, herbes, acorns, walnuts, berries, now and then a little fish. -They that had starch in these extremities made no small use of it; yea, -even the very skins of our horses. Nay, so great was our famine, that a -savage we slew and buried, the poorer sort took him up again and eat -him, and so did divers one another, boyled and stewed with roots and -herbes. And one among the rest did kill his wife, powdered her, and had -eaten part of her before it was knowne, for which he was executed, as -hee well deserved. Now whether she was better roasted, boyled or -carbonadoed, I know not, but of such a dish as powdered wife I never -heard of. This was that time, which still to this day we called the -starving time.” - - -[NOTE 15--CANTO THIRD, SECT. VI.] - - Sir John the painted idol took - And bore it to the shore; - And soon a suppliant priest came down, - Its ransom to implore. - -“Being six or seven in company, he went downe the river to Kecoughtan, -where at first they scorned him as a famished man, and would in derision -offer him a handful of corn, a peece of bread, for their swords and -muskets, and such like proportions also for their apparel. But seeing by -trade and courtesie there was nothing to be had, he made bold to try -such conclusions as necessitie inforced, though contrary to his -commission; let fly his muskets, ran his boat on shore, whereat they all -fled into the woods. So, marching towards their houses, they might see -great heapes of corne. Much adoe he had to restrain his hungry soldiers -from present taking of it, expecting, as it happened, that the savages -would assault them, as not long after they did with a most hideous -noyse. Sixtie or seventy of them, some black, some red, some white, some -party-coloured, came in a square order, singing and dancing out of the -woods, with their Okee (which was an idoll made of skinnes, stuffed with -moss, all painted, and hung with chains and copper) borne before them. -And in this manner, being well armed with clubs, targets, bows and -arrows, they charged the English, that so kindly received them with -their muskets loaden with pistoll shot, that downe fell their god, and -divers lay sprauling on the ground. The rest fled into the woods, and -ere long sent one of their priests to offer peace, and redeeme their -Okee. Smith told them if only six of them would come unarmed and load -his boat, he would not only be their friend, but restore them their -Okee, and give them beads, copper, and hatchets besides; which on both -sides was to their contents performed. And then they brought him -venison, turkies, wild-foule, bread, and what they had, singing and -dancing in signe of friendship till they departed.”--_Smith’s Virginia._ - - -[NOTE 16--CANTO THIRD, SECT. VIII.] - - The waiters stood watchful to do his command. - -“When he, [Powhatan,] dineth or suppeth, one of his women, before and -after meat, bringeth him water in a wooden platter to wash his hands. -Another waiteth with a bunch of feathers to wipe them instead -of a towel, and the feathers, when he hath wiped, are dryed -againe.”--_Captain Smith._ - - -[NOTE 17--CANTO FOURTH, SECT. I.] - - And over, and over, down they roll’d, - And plunged beneath the wave. - -Burk says that on one occasion Captain Smith, “whilst he walked -unattended in the woods, was attacked by the king of Paspahey, a man of -gigantic stature;” and Stith adds, that “the Indian, by mere dint of -strength, forced him into the water with intent to drown him. Long they -struggled, till the President (Smith) got such hold of his throat, that -he almost strangled him.” - - -[NOTE 18--CANTO FOURTH, SECT. VII.] - - Temples that shield from vulgar sight - A thousand holy things, - Their idols, tombs, and images - Of great and ancient kings. - -“In every territory of a werowance is a temple and priest; two or three -or more. - -“Upon the top of certaine red sandy hills in the woods, there are three -great houses filled with images of their kings, and devils, and tombs of -their predecessors. Those houses are near sixty foot in length, built -arbor-wise, after their building. This place they count so holy as that -but the priests and kings dare come into them; nor the savages dare not -go up the river in boats by it, but they solemnly cast some piece of -copper, white beads, or pocones, into the river, for fear their Okee -should be offended and revenged of them.”--_Smith’s Virginia._ - - -[NOTE 19--CANTO FOURTH, SECT. VII.] - - When lo! the solemn man comes forth - With slow and measured tread: - A crown of snakes and weasel skins - Is borne upon his head. - -“Their chief priest differed from the rest in his ornaments, but -inferior priests could hardly be knowne from the common people, but that -they had not so many holes in their ears to hang their jewells at. The -ornaments of the chief priest were certaine attires for his head, made -thus. They took a dozen or sixteen or more snakes’ skins, and stuffed -them with mosse, and of weazles and other vermines’ skins a good many. -All these they tie by their tails, so as all their tails meet on the top -of their head like a great tassell. Round about this tassell is as it -were a crowne of feathers; the skins hang round about his head, necke -and shoulders, and in a manner cover his face. The faces of all their -priests are painted as ugly as they can devise; in their hands they had -every one his rattle, some base, some smaller.”--_Smiths Virginia._ - - -[NOTE 20--CANTO FOURTH, SECT. VII.] - - The sacred weed is in his hand, - That Okee’s favor wins, - Whose grateful odor hath the power - To expiate all sins: - He hurls it forth with sinewy arm - Into the hottest flame, - And thrice aloud in solemn tone - Invokes great Okee’s name. - -“They have also another superstition, that they use in storms, when the -waters are rough in the rivers and on the sea-coasts. Their conjurers -runne to the water sides, or passing in their boats, after many hellish -outcries and invocations, they cast tobacco, copper, pocones, or such -trash into the water, to pacify that god, whom they think to be very -angry in these storms.”--_Smith’s Virginia._ - - -[NOTE 21--CANTO FOURTH, SECT. VII.] - - Around and round, for six tong hours, - They battle with the air. - -“The manner of their devotion is sometimes to make a great fire, in the -house or fields, and all to sing and dance about it with rattels and -shouts together, four or five hours. Sometimes they set a man in the -midst, and about him they dance and sing, he all the while clapping his -hands, as if he would keepe time; and after their songs and dancings -ended, they go to their feasts.”--_Smith’s Virginia._ - - -[NOTE 22--CANTO FOURTH, SECT. XVII.] - - Compassion lit its gentle fires - In the breast of Powhatan; - The warrior to the father yields, - The monarch to the man. - -After Captain Smith had been taken prisoner by Opechancanough, he was -led in triumph through several of the tribes and witnessed many of the -strange ceremonies of the Indians, till at last he was brought to the -residence of the Emperor Powhatan. The scenes which occurred there, are -described as follows, by John Burk in his History of Virginia, a work of -which only one volume was completed, bringing the history down no later -than 1624. This volume is highly valuable as far as it goes, and -exhibits so much ability as to make it a matter of much regret that the -author did not live to complete his work. - -“On the entrance of Smith, Powhatan was dressed in a cloak made of the -skins of the racoon. On either hand of the chief sat two young girls, -his daughters. His counsellors, adorned with shells and feathers, were -ranged on each side of the house, with an equal number of women standing -behind them. On Smith’s entrance, the attendants of Powhatan shouted. -The queen of Appamattox was appointed to bring him water to wash, whilst -another dried his hands with a bunch of feathers. - -“A consultation of the emperor and his council having taken place, it -was adjudged expedient to put Smith to death, as a man whose superior -courage and genius made him peculiarly dangerous to the safety of the -Indians. The decision being made known to the attendants of the emperor, -preparations immediately commenced for carrying it into execution by -means as simple and summary as the nature of the trial. - -“Two large stones were brought in and placed at the feet of the emperor; -and on them was laid the head of the prisoner. Next a large club was -brought in, with which Powhatan, for whom out of respect was reserved -the honor, prepared to crush the head of his captive. The assembly -looked on with sensations of awe, probably not unmixed with pity for the -fate of an enemy whose bravery had commanded their admiration, and in -whose misfortunes their hatred was possibly forgotten. - -“The fatal club was uplifted; the breasts of the company already, by -anticipation, felt the dreadful crash, which was to bereave the wretched -victim of life; when the young and beautiful Pocahontas, the beloved -daughter of the emperor, with a shriek of terror and agony, threw -herself on the body of Smith. Her hair was loose and her eyes streaming -with tears, while her whole manner bespoke the deep distress and agony -of her bosom. She cast a beseeching look at her furious and astonished -father, deprecating his wrath, and imploring his pity and the life of -his prisoner, with all the eloquence of mute, but impassioned sorrow. - -“The remainder of this scene is honorable to the character of Powhatan. -It will remain a lasting monument, that, though different principles of -action and the influence of custom have given to the manners and -opinions of this people an appearance neither amiable nor virtuous, they -still retain the noblest property of the human character, the touch of -pity, and the feeling of humanity. - -“The club of the emperor was still uplifted; but pity had touched his -bosom, and his eye was every moment losing its fierceness. He looked -round to collect his fortitude, or perhaps to find an excuse for his -weakness in the faces of his attendants. But every eye was suffused with -the sweetly contagious softness. The generous savage no longer -hesitated. The compassion of the rude state is neither ostentatious nor -dilatory; nor does it insult its object by the exaction of impossible -conditions. Powhatan lifted his grateful and delighted daughter, and the -captive, scarcely yet assured of safety, from the earth.” - - -[NOTE 23--CANTO FIFTH, SECT. XV.] - - But glancing round upon his men, - Unbending still he stood, - Upright in native dignity, - Like an old oak of the wood. - -Powhatan having refused to go to Jamestown to receive the royal presents -which Newport had brought from King James, it was decided that Newport -and Smith should go to his residence with a file of men, and invest him -with the robe of state and crown agreeably to King James’s request. A -brief account of the ceremony is given in the quaint language of Captain -Smith, as follows. - -“The presents were sent by water, and the captains went by land with -fifty good shot. All being met at Werowocomoco, the next day was -appointed for his coronation. Then the presents were brought in, his -bason and ewer, bed and furniture set up, his scarlet cloak and apparell -with much adoe put on him, being perswaded by Namontack they would not -hurt him. But a foule trouble there was to make him kneele to receive -his crowne, he neither knowing the majesty nor meaning of a crowne, nor -bending of the knee, endured so many perswasions, examples, and -instructions, as tyred them all. At last, by leaning hard on his -shoulders, he a little stooped, and three having the crowne in their -hands put it on his head.” - - -[NOTE 24--CANTO SIXTH, SECT. VII.] - - And still with sad and anxious thought - And moveless eyes he stood, - Till he saw her by another flash - Enter the midnight wood. - -SKETCH OF THE CHARACTER OF POCAHONTAS. - -“The character of this interesting woman, as it stands in the concurrent -accounts of all our historians, is not, it is with confidence affirmed, -surpassed by any in the whole range of history; and for those qualities -more especially, which do honor to our nature--a humane and feeling -heart, an ardor and unshaken constancy in her attachments--she stands -almost without a rival. - -“At the first appearance of the Europeans, her young heart was impressed -with admiration of the persons and manners of the strangers. But it is -not during their prosperity that she displays her attachment. She is not -influenced by awe of their greatness, or fear of their resentment, in -the assistance she affords them. It was during their severest -distresses, when their most celebrated chief was a captive in their -hands, and was dragged through the country, as a spectacle for the sport -and derision of her people, that she places herself between them and -destruction. - -“The spectacle of Pocahontas in an attitude of entreaty, with her hair -loose, and her eyes streaming with tears, supplicating her enraged -father for the life of Captain Smith, when he is about to crush the -head of his prostrate victim with a club, is a situation equal to the -genius of Raphael. And when the royal savage directs his ferocious -glance for a moment from his victim, to reprove his weeping daughter; -when, softened by her distress, his eye loses its fierceness, and he -gives his captive to her tears, the painter will discover a new occasion -for exercising his talents. - -“In Pocahontas we have to admire, not the softer virtues only; she is -found, when the interest of her friends demands it, full of foresight -and intrepidity. - -“When a conspiracy is planned for the extermination of the English, she -eludes the jealous vigilance of her father, and ventures at midnight, -through a thousand perils, to apprise them of their danger. - -“But in no situation does she appear to more advantage, than when, -disgusted with the cold formalities of a court (in England) and the -impertinent and troublesome curiosity of the people, she addressed the -feeling and pathetic remonstrance to Captain Smith on the distant -coldness of his manner. Briefly she stated the rise and progress of -their friendship; modestly she pointed out the services she had rendered -him; concluding with an affecting picture of her situation, at a -distance from her country and family, and surrounded by strangers in a -strange land. - -“Indeed there is ground for apprehension that posterity, in reading this -part of American history, will be inclined to consider the story of -Pocahontas as an interesting romance; perhaps recalling the palpable -fictions of early travellers and navigators, they may suppose that in -those times a portion of fiction was deemed essential to the -embellishment of history. It is not even improbable, that considering -every thing relating to Captain Smith and Pocahontas as a mere fiction, -they may vent their spleen against the historian for impairing the -interest of his plot by marrying the princess of Powhatan to a Mr. Rolf, -of whom nothing had previously been said, in defiance of all the -expectations raised by the foregoing parts of the fable. - -“It is the last sad office of history to record the fate of this -incomparable woman. The severe muse, which presides over this -department, cannot plant the cypress over her grave, and consign her to -the tomb, with the stately pomp and graceful tears of poetry. She cannot -with pious sorrow inurn the ashes and immortalize the virtues of the -dead by the soul-piercing elegy, which fancy, mysterious deity, pours -out, wild and plaintive, her hair loose, and her white bosom throbbing -with anguish. Those things are placed equally beyond her reach and her -inclination. But history affects not to conceal her sorrow on this -occasion. - -“She died at Gravesend, (England,) where she was preparing to embark -with her husband and son on her return to Virginia. Her death was a -happy mixture of Indian fortitude and Christian submission, affecting -all those who saw her, by the lively and edifying picture of piety and -virtue which marked her latter moments.”--_Burk’s Virginia._ - - -[NOTE 25--CANTO SIXTH, SECT. IX.] - - And now this land is ours again; - The rest of the pale-face crew - We’ll brush away from our forest home, - As we brush the drops of dew. - -“The savages no sooner understood Smith was gone, but they all revolted, -and did spoil and murther all they encountered.”--_Smith’s Virginia._ - - -[NOTE 26--CANTO SEVENTH, SECT. III.] - - We ran to rescue, but in vain; - They bore her from the shore, - Away, away, and much I fear - Thou’lt never see her more. - -Whatever account Japazaws may have given of the capture of Metoka, or -Pocahontas, history attributes the incident altogether to his own -treachery. She was carried away by Captain Argall, who was up the -Potomac with his vessel for the purpose of trading with the natives. The -following account is copied from Burk. - -“By the means of Japazaws, king of Potomac, he discovered that -Pocahontas was concealed in the neighborhood, and he immediately -conceived the design of getting her into his power; concluding that the -possession of so valuable an hostage would operate as a check on the -hostile dispositions of the emperor, and might perhaps be made an -instrument of peace and reconciliation. The integrity of Japazaws was -not proof against the seducing appearance of a copper kettle, which was -fixed as the price of his treachery; and this amiable maiden, whose soul -nature formed on one of her kindest and noblest models, was betrayed by -her perfidious host into the hands of a people, whom her tender and -compassionate spirit had often snatched from famine and the sword. - -“For the causes of this princess’s absence from her father, we are left -to bare conjecture. Her avowed partiality for the English had probably -drawn down on her the displeasure of this high-spirited monarch; and she -had retired to avoid the effects of his immediate resentment.” - - -[NOTE 27--CANTO SEVENTH, SECT. VIII.] - - Sir John had led him by the hair - With pistol at his breast; - The rankling thought was a raging fire, - That never let him rest. - -“The president, (Smith,) some time after this, being on a visit to -Pamunky, an attempt was made by Opechancanough to seize him; for which -purpose he beset the place, where they had met to trade, with seven -hundred Indians, well-armed, of his own tribe. But Smith, seizing him by -the hair, led him trembling in the midst of his people, who immediately -laid down their arms.”--_Burk’s Virginia._ - - -[NOTE 28--CANTO SEVENTH, SECT. X.] - - When morning came, the sun look’d down - Where many a cottage stood, - But he only saw black smouldering heaps, - And fields that smoked with blood. - -The great massacre of the Virginia colony by the Indians in 1622, is -thus described by Burk. - -“Whilst the colony was thus rapidly advancing to eminence and wealth, -she carried in her bosom and about her an enemy which was to blight her -budding honors, and which brought near to ruin and desolation her -growing establishment. Since the marriage of Pocahontas, the natives had -lived on terms of uninterrupted and apparently cordial amity with the -English, which daily gained strength by mutual wants and necessities. -Each had something beyond their wants, which the other stood in need of. -And commerce, regulated by good faith, and a spirit of justice, gave -facility to the exchange or barter of their superfluous productions. The -consequence of this state of things was, a complete security on the part -of the English; a total disregard and disuse of military precautions and -martial exercises. The time and the hands of labor were considered too -valuable to be employed in an idle and holiday array of arms; and in -this situation, wholly intent on amassing wealth, and totally unprovided -for defence, they were attacked by an enemy, whose resentment no time -nor good offices could disarm; whose preparations were silent as night; -to whom the arts of native cunning had given a deep dissimulation, an -exterior so specious, as might impose on suspicion itself. - -“Opechancanough (who succeeded Powhatan in the government) possessed a -powerful recommendation in the eyes of his countrymen. His hatred of the -English was rooted and deadly. Never for a moment did he forget the -unjust invasion and insolent aggressions of those strangers. Never did -he forget his own personal wrongs and humiliation. - -“Compelled by the inferiority of his countrymen in the weapons and -instruments of war, as by their customs, to employ stratagem instead of -force, he buried deep in his bosom all traces of the rage with which he -was agitated. - -“To the English, if any faith was due to appearances, his deportment was -uniformly frank and unreserved. He was the equitable mediator in the -several differences which arose between them and his countrymen. - -“The intellectual superiority of the white men was the constant theme of -his admiration. He appeared to consider them as the peculiar favorites -of heaven, against whom resistance were at once impious and -impracticable. But far different was his language and deportment in the -presence of his countrymen. - -“In the gloom and silence of the dark and impenetrable forest, or the -inaccessible swamp, he gave utterance to the sorrows and indignation of -his swelling bosom. He painted with the strength and brilliancy of -savage coloring the tyranny, rapacity, and cruelty of the English; while -he mournfully contrasted the unalloyed content and felicity of their -former lives, with their present abject and degraded condition; subject -as they were to the capricious control and intolerable requisitions of -those hard and unpitying task-masters. - -“Independence is the first blessing of the savage state. Without it, all -other advantages are light and valueless. Bereft of this, in their -estimation even life itself is a barren and comfortless possession. It -is not surprising then, that Opechancanough, independent of his -influence as a great Werowance or war captain, should, on such a -subject, discover kindred feelings in the breasts of his countrymen. The -war-song and war-whoop, breaking like thunder from the fierce and -barbarous multitudes, mingling with the clatter of their shields, and -enforced by the terrific gestures of the war-dance, proclaimed to their -leader their determination to die with him or conquer. - -“With equal address the experienced and wily savage proceeded to allay -the storm which invective had conjured up in the breasts of the Indians. -The English, although experience had proved them neither immortal nor -invincible, he represented as formidable by their fire-arms, and their -superior knowledge in the art of war; and he inculcated, as the sole -means of deliverance and revenge, secrecy and caution until an occasion -should offer, when, by surprise or ambush, the scattered establishments -of their enemies might at the same moment be assaulted and swept away. - -“Four years had nearly elapsed in maturing this formidable conspiracy; -during which time, not a single Indian belonging to the thirty nations, -which composed the empire of Powhatan, was found to violate his -engagements, or betray his leader. Not a word or hint was heedlessly or -deliberately dropt to awaken jealousy or excite suspicion. - -“Every thing being at length ripe for execution, the several nations of -Indians were secretly drawn together, and stationed at the several -points of attack, with a celerity and precision unparalleled in history. -Although some of the detachments had to march from great distances, and -through a continued forest, guided only by the stars and the dubious -light of the moon, no instance of mistake or disorder took place. The -Indian mode of march is by single files. They follow one after another -in profound silence, treading nearly as possible in the steps of each -other, and adjusting the long grass and branches which they have -displaced. This is done to conceal all traces of their route from their -enemies, who are equally sagacious and quick-sighted. They halted at a -short distance from the English, waiting without impatience for the -signal which was to be given by their fellows, who, under pretence of -traffic, had this day in considerable numbers repaired to the -plantations of the colonists. - -“So perfect was the cunning and dissimulation of Opechancanough, that on -the morning of this fatal day, the straggling English by his direction -were conducted in safety through the woods to their settlements, and -presents of venison and fowl were sent in his name to the governor and -counsellors, accompanied with expressions of regard and assurances of -friendship. ‘Sooner,’ said the wily chieftain, ‘shall the sky fall, than -the peace shall be violated on my part.’ - -“And so entirely were the English duped by these professions and -appearances, that they freely lent the Indians their boats, with which -they announced the concert, the signal and the hour of attack to their -countrymen on the other side of the river. - -“The fatal hour having at length arrived, and the necessary dispositions -having every where taken place; on a signal given, at mid day, -innumerable detachments setting up the war-whoop, burst from their -concealments on the defenceless settlements of the English, massacreing -all they met, without distinction of age or sex; and according to custom -mutilating and mangling in a shocking manner the dead bodies of their -enemies. - -“So unexpected and terrible was the onset, that scarcely any resistance -was made. The English fell scarcely knowing their enemies, and in many -instances by their own weapons. In one hour three hundred and -forty-seven men, women, and children, including six of the council and -several others of distinction, fell without a struggle, by the hands of -the Indians. Chance alone saved the colony from utter extirpation. - -“A converted Indian, named Chanco, lived with Richard Pace, loved by his -master on account of his good qualities, with an affection at once -Christian and parental. The night preceding the massacre, the brother of -Chanco slept with him; and after a strict injunction of secrecy, having -revealed to him the intended plot, he commanded him, in the name of -Opechancanough, to murder his master. The grateful Indian, shocked at -the atrocity of the proposal, after his brother’s departure, flew to -Pace and disclosed to him the information he had received. There was no -time to be lost. Before day a despatch was forwarded to the governor at -Jamestown, which with the adjacent settlements was thus preserved from -the ruin that hung over them. - - * * * * * - -“From this time the number of the plantations and settlements, which -before amounted to eighty, was reduced to six, and their strength -concentrated by order of the governor about Jamestown and the -neighborhood. All works of public utility, as well as the exertions of -private industry, were entirely suspended; and the whole attention of -the colonists was bent on the means of defence, and on projects of -vengeance. A bloody and exterminating war ensued, in which treachery and -cruelty took place of manly courage and generous warfare. The laws of -war, and that humanity, which in the moments of victory give quarter to -the vanquished, were forgotten amid the suggestions of craving and -insatiable revenge. But the opportunities of retaliation, owing to the -swiftness of the natives, were not frequent enough to appease the -boiling spirit of vengeance. The Indian, pressed by hunger, or -stimulated by the hope of plunder or revenge, would on a sudden burst -from his concealment on his enemy, and if outnumbered and pursued, he -vanished amid the eternal midnight of his forests. Whole days he lies on -his belly in breathless silence, his color not distinguishable from the -earth on which he lies, and every faculty wound up to attention. He -watches the moment when he can strike with certainty, and his aim is as -fatal and unerring as destiny. - -“At last the Indians were invited from their fastnesses by the hopes of -peace and the solemn assurances of safety and forgiveness. That inhuman -maxim of the Roman Church, ‘that no faith is to be kept with heretics,’ -appears to have been adopted by the colonists in its fullest force. - -“The habitations of the unfortunate people were beset at the same -moment; and an indiscriminate slaughter took place, without regard to -age, sex, or infancy. The horrid scene terminated by setting fire to the -huts and corn of the savages.” - - -FOOTNOTES: - -[A] Powhatan. This name, in the northern and middle states, has usually -been accented on the second syllable. But in Virginia the accent is -thrown on the first and last syllables, which is undoubtedly according -to the Indian mode of pronunciation, and therefore the true one. - -[B] Metoka, or Metoaka, which was the original name of Pocahontas, is -adopted in preference to the latter throughout this poem, on account of -its greater euphony. - -[C] This name is sometimes pronounced by throwing a strong accent on -the fourth syllable. The pronunciation adopted in this work throws -a slight accent on the first, third, and fifth syllables, which is -believed to be more agreeable to the usage of the Indian tribes. -In pronouncing long words they seldom give much accent to any one -syllable, but utter each syllable with nearly the same intonation. - -[D] Okee was the name of one of their principal gods, a rude image of -which was kept in most of the tribes. - -[E] Kecoughtan was on the west side of Chesapeake Bay, where Hampton -now stands. James River was called, by the natives, Powhatan. - -[F] Paspahey was the place on James River where the English first -effected a settlement, and gave it the name of Jamestown. - -[G] King, chief, or head man of a tribe. - - - -NOTES: - -[NOTE 1--CANTO FIRST, SECT. I. - - Far in their mountain lurking-place - The Manakins had heard his fame, - And Manahocks dared not come down - His valleys to pursue their game. - -The Manakins and Manahocs, or Manahoacs, dwelt in the hilly country -above the falls of the great rivers which empty into Chesapeake Bay; -while the dominion of Powhatan extended over the whole of the flat -country below the falls. The Manakins dwelt on the head waters of the -James River, and the Manahocs on the head waters of the Potomac and -Rappahannock. They were subdivided into several nations or tribes, and -formed a sort of league or confederacy of the upland and mountain -Indians against the power and tyranny of Powhatan. The Manakins -consisted of four or five tribes, and the Manahocs of eight, and the -whole, being combined in firm league against the empire of Powhatan, -must have constituted rather a formidable foe.] - - - - - - -End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Powhatan; A Metrical Romance, in Seven -Cantos, by Seba Smith - -*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK POWHATAN *** - -***** This file should be named 60506-0.txt or 60506-0.zip ***** -This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: - http://www.gutenberg.org/6/0/5/0/60506/ - -Produced by Tim Lindell, Chuck Greif and the Online -Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net (This -file was produced from images generously made available -by The Internet Archive/American Libraries.) - - -Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions -will be renamed. - -Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no -one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation -(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without -permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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You may copy it, give it away or -re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included -with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org/license - - -Title: Powhatan; A Metrical Romance, in Seven Cantos - -Author: Seba Smith - -Release Date: October 16, 2019 [EBook #60506] - -Language: English - -Character set encoding: UTF-8 - -*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK POWHATAN *** - - - - -Produced by Tim Lindell, Chuck Greif and the Online -Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net (This -file was produced from images generously made available -by The Internet Archive/American Libraries.) - - - - - - -</pre> - -<hr class="full" /> - -<p class="c"> -<img src="images/cover.jpg" width="315" height="500" alt="" title="" /> -</p> - -<table border="0" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" summary="" -style="border:2px solid gray;text-align:center; -margin:1em auto 1em auto;max-width:15em;padding:1em;"> -<tr><td><a href="#PREFACE">Preface.</a><br /> -<a href="#SKETCH_OF_THE_CHARACTER_OF_POWHATAN">Sketch of the Character of Powhatan.</a><br /> -<a href="#PROEM">Proem.</a><br /> -<a href="#CANTO_FIRST">Canto First.</a><br /> -<a href="#CANTO_SECOND">Canto Second.</a><br /> -<a href="#CANTO_THIRD">Canto Third.</a><br /> -<a href="#CANTO_FOURTH">Canto Fourth.</a><br /> -<a href="#CANTO_FIFTH">Canto Fifth.</a><br /> -<a href="#CANTO_SIXTH">Canto Sixth.</a><br /> -<a href="#CANTO_SEVENTH">Canto Seventh.</a><br /> -<a href="#NOTES">{Notes.}</a><br /> -<a href="#FOOTNOTES">[Footnotes]</a></td></tr> -</table> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page_1" id="page_1">{1}</a></span></p> - -<h1>POWHATAN;</h1> - -<p class="c"><b>A M E T R I C A L R O M A N C E,<br /><br /><br /> -IN SEVEN CANTOS.<br /><br /><br /> -BY SEBA SMITH.</b> -<br /><br /><br />“He cometh to you with a tale, that holdeth children from play and old men from -the chimney-corner.”—<i>Sir Philip Sidney.</i><br /><br /><br /> -NEW-YORK:<br /> -HARPER & BROTHERS, CLIFF-STREET.<br /> -1841. -<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_2" id="page_2">{2}</a></span> -<br /><br /><small> -Entered, according to Act of Congress, in the year 1841, by<br /> -<span class="smcap">Harper & Brothers</span>,<br /> -In the Clerk’s Office of the Southern District of New-York.</small></p> - -<p><small>Stereotyped by<br /> -RICHARD C. VALENTINE,<br /> -45 Gold-street.</small> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_3" id="page_3">{3}</a></span></p> - -<p class="c"><br /><br /><br /> - -TO THE<br /> -YOUNG PEOPLE OF THE UNITED STATES,<br /> -<br /> -<small>IN THE HOPE THAT HE MAY DO SOME GOOD IN HIS DAY AND GENERATION,<br /><br /> -BY ADDING SOMETHING TO THE SOURCES OF RATIONAL<br /><br /> -ENJOYMENT AND MENTAL CULTURE,</small><br /><br /> -<br /> -THIS VOLUME IS RESPECTFULLY INSCRIBED<br /> -</p> - -<p class="rt">BY THE AUTHOR.<br /> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_5" id="page_5">{5}</a></span><span class="pagenum"><a name="page_4" id="page_4">{4}</a></span></p> - -<h2><a name="PREFACE" id="PREFACE"></a>PREFACE.</h2> - -<p>“<span class="smcap">Poetry</span> is a mere drug,” say the publishers; “bring us no more poetry, -it won’t sell.”</p> - -<p>“Poetry is a terrible bore,” say a majority of the dear public; “it is -too high-flown; we can’t understand it.”</p> - -<p>To all this, we are tempted to reply in the language of doctor Abernethy -to one of his patients. The good old lady, when the doctor entered the -room, raised her arm to her head, and drawing her face into a very -painful expression, exclaimed, “Oh, oh! O dear, Doctor, it almost kills -me to lift my arm up so; what shall I do?”</p> - -<p>“Well, madam,” said the doctor, gravely, “then you must be a very great -fool to lift your arm up so.”</p> - -<p>Leaving the reader to make the application, we hasten to deny the -premises assumed by the publishers and a portion of the public. What -they say, is not true of <i>poetry</i>; it is in direct contradiction to the -experience of the world in all ages and all nations, for thousands of -years. But it may be true, and <i>is</i> true, of endless masses of words -that are poured forth from the press under the <i>name</i> of poetry. But we -do not believe, that genuine poetry, that which is<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_6" id="page_6">{6}</a></span> worthy of the name, -is either “a drug,” or “too high-flown” to be enjoyed and understood by -the mass of the reading public.</p> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">“The budding twigs spread out their fan,<br /></span> -<span class="i3">To catch the breezy air;<br /></span> -<span class="i1">And I must think, do all I can,<br /></span> -<span class="i3">That there was pleasure there.”<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<p>Poetry like that, will always find readers and admirers among all -classes, whether high or low, rich or poor, learned or unlearned. True -poetry is the unsophisticated language of nature—so plain and simple, -that he that runs may read. In proof of this, it is found, that among -the writings of popular authors, those poems most marked for simple and -natural language, other things being equal, are always the most popular. -There must be taste and judgment in the selection of subjects, for many -subjects are in their nature unsuited to the true spirit of poetry.</p> - -<p>The author of Powhatan does not presume to claim for his production the -merit of good and genuine poetry; nor does he pretend to assign it a -place in the classes or forms into which poetry is divided. He has -chosen to call it a metrical romance, as a title of less pretension than -that of poem; and he is perfectly willing that others should call it by -whatever name they please. Whatever may be its faults, they must rest -solely upon the author. They cannot be chargeable to the subject, for -that is full of interest, and dignity, and poetry. Nor can they be -palliated by the plea of hasty composition; for he has had the work on -his<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_7" id="page_7">{7}</a></span> hands at intervals for several years, though to be sure something -more than half of it has been written within the year past. Of one thing -the author feels confident; but whether it may be regarded as adding to, -or detracting from, the merit of the work, he knows not; he believes it -would be difficult to find a poem that embodies more truly the spirit of -history, or indeed that follows out more faithfully many of its details. -Of the justness of this remark, some evidence may be found in the notes -attached to the work.</p> - -<p>Finally, with regard to its merits, the test by which the author desires -to be tried, is the common taste of <i>common readers</i>. If <i>they</i> shall -read it with pleasure, and if the impression made by its perusal shall -induce them to recur to it again with renewed delight, he will care -little for the rules by which critics may judge it, but will find -satisfaction in the assurance that he has added something honorable to -the literature of his country.</p> - -<div class="blockquot"><p><i>New York, January, 1841.</i></p></div><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page_9" id="page_9">{9}</a></span></p><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page_8" id="page_8">{8}</a></span></p> - -<h2><a name="SKETCH_OF_THE_CHARACTER_OF_POWHATAN" id="SKETCH_OF_THE_CHARACTER_OF_POWHATAN"></a>SKETCH OF THE CHARACTER OF POWHATAN.</h2> - -<div class="blockquot"><p>As Powhatan may be regarded as the most prominent personage in the -poem, the author has thought proper to give the following -well-drawn sketch of his character a place at the commencement of -the work, rather than among the notes at the end. It is extracted -from Burk’s “History of Virginia,” and will serve to show that -grave and sober history assigns to the Indian chieftain a rank no -less elevated and dignified than is given him in the following -poem.</p></div> - -<p>“<span class="smcap">The</span> greater part of his life was passed in what is generally termed -glory and good fortune. In the cant of civilization, he will doubtless -be branded with the epithets of tyrant and barbarian. But his title to -greatness, although his opportunities were fewer, is to the full as fair -as that of Tamerlane or Kowli Khan, and several others, whom history has -immortalized as conquerors; while the proofs of his tyranny are by no -means so clear and unequivocal.</p> - -<p>“Born to a slender patrimony, in the midst of numerous tribes more -subtle than the Arabs of the desert, and whose independence spurned even -the shadow of restraint, he contrived, by his valor and address, to -unite them in one firm and indissoluble union, under his power and -authority; giving his name to the new empire which his wisdom had -erected, and which continued to flourish under his auspices and -direction.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_10" id="page_10">{10}</a></span></p> - -<p>“As a warrior, bold, skilful, and enterprising, he was confessedly -without rival or competitor; inspiring with respect or terror even the -formidable enemies who dared to make head against his encroachments. The -powerful confederacy of the Manakins and Manahoacks, and the more -distant inhabitants of the lakes, heard the name of Powhatan with -uneasiness and alarm.</p> - -<p>“At the coming of the English he had reached the advanced age of sixty -years, and enjoyed in the bosom of his family the fruits of his long and -glorious exertions. The spectacle of men who came from beyond the sea, -in floating and winged houses, and who fought with thunder and -lightnings, could not fail to strike him by its grandeur and novelty. -The intent of the strangers appeared, at first view, to be friendly; and -he received them with courtesy. But his sagacious mind quickly developed -the motives, and foresaw the consequences, of their arrival. He looked -forward with regret to a renewal of his labors; and, at the age of -sixty, he resolved to fight over again the battles of his youth. He -might have lived in peace. He was aware of the superiority of his new -enemy in the machines and instruments of battle, as well as in their -discipline and experience; but these cold calculations vanished before -his sense of honor and independence. Age could not chill the ardor of -his heroic bosom.</p> - -<p>“In the private circle of his family, who appears to greater advantage -than Powhatan?—what affection for his brothers! how delicate and -considerate his regard for his children! what moderation and pity does -he not manifest towards<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_11" id="page_11">{11}</a></span> Captain Smith, when, subdued by the tears of -Pocahontas, and touched, perhaps, with compassion for the bravery and -misfortunes of his captive, he consented to spare his life!</p> - -<p>“Powhatan comes before us without any of those mortifying and abasing -circumstances which, in the eye of human respect, diminish the lustre of -reputation. History records no violence offered to his person; no -insulting language used in his presence. Opechancanough had been dragged -by the hair, at the head of hundreds of Indians; but never had the -majesty of Powhatan been violated by personal insult.</p> - -<p>“In all disputes and conferences with the English, he never once forgets -that he is a monarch; never permits others to forget it. ‘If your king,’ -said he to Smith, ‘has sent me presents, <i>I too am a king, and I am in -my own land</i>.’ No matter who the person is whom the partiality of the -historian may think proper to distinguish as his hero; we never lose -sight of the manly figure and venerable majesty of the Indian hero. He -is always the principal figure in the group; and in his presence, even -the gallant and adventurous Smith is obliged to play a second part; and -all others are forgotten.</p> - -<p>“Owing to that obscurity in which, unhappily, every thing relating to -this people is involved, we know little of the dawn of Powhatan’s -glory—little of his meridian. Those particular traits which would have -enabled us accurately to estimate the character and capacity of his -mind, have felt the fate of oral record and remembrance. The exploits of -his youth and his manhood have perished, for the want of a poet or -historian. We saw him only for a short time, on the edge<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_12" id="page_12">{12}</a></span> of the -horizon; but, from the brightness of his departing beams, we can easily -think what he was in the blaze of his fame.</p> - -<p>“If we view him as a statesman, a character which has been thought to -demand a greater comprehension and variety of talents, where shall we -find one who merited in a higher degree the palm of distinction and -eminence? ’Tis true the theatre of his administration was neither wide -nor conspicuous. He is not set off by the splendid machinery of palaces -and courtiers, glittering with gold and precious stones; or the costly -equipage of dress. He had no troops in rich uniform; he had no treasury; -he maintained no ambassadors at foreign courts. Powhatan must be viewed -as he stands in relation to the several Indian nations of Virginia. To -judge him by European ideas of greatness would be the climax of -injustice and absurdity.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_13" id="page_13">{13}</a></span>”</p> - -<h2><a name="PROEM" id="PROEM"></a>PROEM.</h2> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">There’s</span> a warrior race of a hardy form,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Who are fearless in peril, and reckless of storm;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Who are seen on the mountains when wintry winds blow,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And, in midsummer’s blaze, in the valleys below—<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Their home is the forest, the earth is their bed,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And the theme of their boast is the blood they have shed;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">With a spirit unbroken by famine or toil,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">They traverse the rivers and woods for their spoil;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">With a soul that no terrors of nature appal,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">They dance on the verge of the cataract’s fall;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">They chase the huge crocodile home to the fen,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">They rob the wild bear of the cubs in her den,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">They weary the deer in her rapidest flight,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And they sleep with the wolf on the mountain’s height.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i2">Yet the gentle affections have found an abode<br /></span> -<span class="i0">In these wild and dark bosoms, wherever they dwell;<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_14" id="page_14">{14}</a></span><br /></span> -<span class="i0">And nature has all the soft passions bestow’d<br /></span> -<span class="i0">On her favorite children of mountain and dell.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Though they fall on a foe with a tiger’s fangs,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And joy and exult in his keenest pangs,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The least act of kindness they never forget,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And the sin of ingratitude ne’er stain’d them yet.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">They weep o’er the graves of their valiant dead,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And piously reverence the aged head;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Of parent and child feel the tenderest ties,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And the pure light of love glances warm from their eyes.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i2">But the warrior race is fading away;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The day of their prowess and glory is past;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">They are scathed like a grove where the lightnings play,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">They are scatter’d like leaves by the tempest blast.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">They must perish from earth with the deeds they have done;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Already the pall of oblivion descends,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Enshrouding the tribes from our view, one by one,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And time o’er the straggling remnants bends,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And sweeps them away with a hurried pace,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Still sounding the knell of the warrior race.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i2">A vision is passing before me now—<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The deeds of their chieftains come full on my sight,<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_15" id="page_15">{15}</a></span><br /></span> -<span class="i0">And maidens of mildness and beauty bow,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">As they faintly appear in the dim distant light.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">That vision is fading—now fainter it seems—<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Like a cloud on the wind, it recedes from the view—<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And is there no power to rekindle its beams?<br /></span> -<span class="i0">No pencil to picture its form and its hue?<br /></span> -<span class="i0">O, spirit of poesy, parent of song,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Thou alone canst the light of that vision prolong;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Then let it descend to a distant age,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Embodied forth on thy deathless page.<br /></span> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_17" id="page_17">{17}</a></span><span class="pagenum"><a name="page_16" id="page_16">{16}</a></span></div></div> -</div> - -<h2><a name="CANTO_FIRST" id="CANTO_FIRST"></a>CANTO FIRST.</h2> - -<h3>I.</h3> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">The</span> monarch rested from his toils,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Weary of war, and full of spoils.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">His hatchet slept; his bow, unstrung<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And shaftless, in his cabin hung;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">His tomahawk was in the ground,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The wild war-whoop had ceased to sound,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And thirty chieftains, tall and proud,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">To his imperial sceptre bow’d.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Far in their mountain lurking-place<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The Manakins had heard his fame,{<a name="NT_1" id="NT_1"></a><a href="#note_1">1</a>}<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And Manahocks dared not come down<br /></span> -<span class="i0">His valleys to pursue their game;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And Susquehannah’s giant race,{<a name="NT_2" id="NT_2"></a><a href="#note_2">2</a>}<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Who feared to meet no other man,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Would tremble in their fastnesses<br /></span> -<span class="i0">To hear the name of Powhatan.<a name="FNanchor_A_1" id="FNanchor_A_1"></a><a href="#Footnote_A_1" class="fnanchor">[A]</a><span class="pagenum"><a name="page_18" id="page_18">{18}</a></span><br /></span> -<span class="i0">From the broad James’s winding side<br /></span> -<span class="i0">To smooth Potomac’s broader tide,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">From Chesapeake’s surf-beaten shore<br /></span> -<span class="i0">To where the mountain torrents roar,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">His powerful sway had been confess’d,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And thirty tribes one monarch bless’d.{<a name="NT_3" id="NT_3"></a><a href="#note_3">3</a>}<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<h3>II.</h3> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">The time-spared oak, that lifts its head<br /></span> -<span class="i0">In loneliness, where those are dead,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Which once stood by it on the plain,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Soon sees their places fill’d again—<br /></span> -<span class="i0">So stood the monarch, full of years,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Amid an undergrowth of men;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">For since the sceptre first he sway’d,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Full two score years ago and ten,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Two generations had gone by,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And twice he’d seen his people die.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Yet from his eye there beam’d a fire,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Resistless as the warrior’s lance;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And when ’twas lit with vengeful ire,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The boldest wither’d at its glance.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And still his step was quick and light,<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_19" id="page_19">{19}</a></span><br /></span> -<span class="i0">And still his arm was nerved with might,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And still ’twas death to all, who dare<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Awake the vengeance slumbering there.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">But now with joy the monarch view’d<br /></span> -<span class="i0">His realm in peace, his foes subdued,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And calmly turn’d abroad his eyes<br /></span> -<span class="i0">O’er the wide work of warfare done,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And hoped no coming cloud would rise<br /></span> -<span class="i0">To shroud in gloom his setting sun.<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<h3>III.</h3> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Deep in a sea of waving wood{<a name="NT_4" id="NT_4"></a><a href="#note_4">4</a>}<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The monarch’s rustic lodge was seen,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Where brightly roll’d the river down,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And gently sloped the banks of green.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">No princely dome that lodge appear’d,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">No tall and shapely columns rear’d<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Their finished architraves on high,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">With cornice mounting to the sky;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">No foreign artist’s skilful hand<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Had shed Corinthian graces there:<br /></span> -<span class="i0">That simple dwelling had been plann’d<br /></span> -<span class="i0">By workmen under nature’s care.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The sun by day, or moon by night,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Had never sent a ray of light<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Upon a lovelier spot than this,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Or seen a home of purer bliss.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_20" id="page_20">{20}</a></span><br /></span> -<span class="i0">Beneath the tall elms’ branching shade<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The eye might reach a fairy glade,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Where sprightly deer were often seen,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">In frolic sport, on plats of green,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">From morning’s dawn till noontide heat<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Invited to some cool retreat;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Then away to the sheltering grove they fled<br /></span> -<span class="i0">With a high-curved neck and a lofty tread.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Beside the open glade there grew<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Green clustering oaks, and maples tall,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Forming a native bower, whose view<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Was more enchanting far than all<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The stiff embellishments of art,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">That human culture could impart<br /></span> -<span class="i0">To garden, grot, or waterfall.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Within that bower a fountain, gushing,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Babbled sweetly all the day,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And round it many a wild-flower, blushing,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Drank the morning dew of May.<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<h3>IV.</h3> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">But one sweet floweret flourish’d there,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Beneath the aged monarch’s care,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Whose bloom that happy bower had bless’d<br /></span> -<span class="i0">With brighter charms than all the rest.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">’Twas his loved daughter—she had been<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The comfort of his widowhood<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_21" id="page_21">{21}</a></span><br /></span> -<span class="i0">For twelve long years; through grove and glen<br /></span> -<span class="i0">She roam’d with him the pathless wood,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And wheresoe’er that old man hied,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Fair Metoka<a name="FNanchor_B_2" id="FNanchor_B_2"></a><a href="#Footnote_B_2" class="fnanchor">[B]</a> was ever at his side.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">She was the gem of her father’s home,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The pride and joy of his forest cell;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And if alone she chanced to roam<br /></span> -<span class="i0">To pluck the rose and gay hairbell,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The rudest savage stopp’d and smiled,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Whene’er he met the monarch’s child.<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<h3>V.</h3> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Mild was the air, and the setting rays<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Of the ruddy sun now seem’d to blaze<br /></span> -<span class="i0">On many a tree-top’s lofty spire,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">When May-day’s tranquil evening hour<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Beheld the daughter and the sire<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Together in their summer bower.<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<h3>VI.</h3> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">‘Come hither, child,’ the monarch said,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘And set thee down by me,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘And I’ll tell thee of thy mother dead,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘Fair sprout of that parent tree.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_22" id="page_22">{22}</a></span><br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘Twelve suns ago she fell asleep,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘And she never awoke again;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘And thou wast then too young to weep,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘Or to share thy father’s pain.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘But wouldst thou know thy mother’s look,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘When her form was young and fair,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘Look down upon the tranquil brook,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘And thou’lt see her picture there.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘For her own bright locks of flowing jet<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘Are over thy shoulders hung;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘In thy face her loving eyes are set,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘And her music is on thy tongue.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘But Okee call’d her home to rest,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘And away her spirit flew,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘Dancing on sunbeams far to the west,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘Where the mountain tops are blue.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘And often at sunset hour she strolls<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘Alone on the mountains wild,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘And beckons me home to the land of souls,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘And calls for her darling child.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘And I am an aged sapless tree,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘That soon must fall to the plain;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘And then shall my spirit, light and free,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘Rejoin thy mother again.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘And thou, my child’—But here a sigh<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Had reach’d the aged chieftain’s ear;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">He turn’d, and lo, his daughter’s eye<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_23" id="page_23">{23}</a></span><br /></span> -<span class="i0">Was beaming through a trembling tear,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And she was looking in his face<br /></span> -<span class="i0">With such a tender, earnest grace,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The monarch clasp’d her to his side,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And thus her childish lips replied.<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<h3>VII.</h3> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">‘Oh, do not say thou must be gone,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘And leave thy daughter here alone,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘Like some poor solitary bird,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘To live unseen and mourn unheard.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘Who will be left for me to love?<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘And who will lead me through the grove?<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘And when sweet, fresh-blown flowers I find,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘Around whose brow shall they be twined?<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘And who, when evening comes along,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘Will sit and hear my evening song,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘And smile, and praise the simple strain,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘And kiss my cheek, and smile again?<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘The sun would never more be bright,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘Joyless would pass the darksome night,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘The merry groves and murmuring stream<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘Would all so sad and lonely seem,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘That I could here no longer stay,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘And thou in the spirit-land away.’<br /></span> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_24" id="page_24">{24}</a></span></div></div> -</div> - -<h3>VIII.</h3> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Then Powhatan, to sooth to rest<br /></span> -<span class="i0">His daughter’s agitated breast,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Bethought to make some kind reply,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">When sudden toward the east his eye<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Caught the glimpse of a warrior form:<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Swift as an eagle wings the storm,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">He sweeps along the far hill-side,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Dimly mid dusky woods descried.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Uprose the monarch nimbly then,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And sternly sent his eagle ken<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Through opening grove and o’er the glen,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And watch’d the form that now drew near,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Bounding along, like a mountain deer.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">He marvell’d if the warrior came<br /></span> -<span class="i0">With foeman’s brand to light the flame<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Of ruthless war; for sure his speed<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Might well portend a foeman’s deed.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">But as he gain’d an open height,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">That mark’d him clearer to the sight—<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘I know him now,’ the monarch said,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘By his robe of blue and belt of red;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘He bears a quiver and a bow,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘His plume is a raven wing—{<a name="NT_5" id="NT_5"></a><a href="#note_5">5</a>}<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘Our brother, Opechancanough,<a name="FNanchor_C_3" id="FNanchor_C_3"></a><a href="#Footnote_C_3" class="fnanchor">[C]</a><span class="pagenum"><a name="page_25" id="page_25">{25}</a></span><br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘Pamunky’s wily king.’<br /></span> -<span class="i0">As summer breezes, quick and strong,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Hurry a fleecy cloud along,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">We see the shadow softly creep,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Fast as the following eye can sweep,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Darkening blade, and bough, and leaf,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">O’er grassy mead and woody dell;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">So flew that raven-crested chief,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And reach’d the monarch’s cell.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And now the day is closing in,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And one by one the stars begin,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Around an unbeclouded sky,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">To hang their glittering lamps on high;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Chilly and damp the night dews fall,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And brightly in the monarch’s hall<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The evening torches glow;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Thither the royal group repair,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The monarch sage, the daughter fair,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And princely Opechancanough.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Mutely the monarch eyed his guest,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">For on his brow there seem’d impres<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_26" id="page_26">{26}</a></span>s’d<br /></span> -<span class="i0">A more disturb’d and ruffled air<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Than e’er before had mantled there.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">At length with questions, few and brief,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">He gravely thus address’d the chief.<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<h3>IX.</h3> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">‘What tidings, brave Pamunky’s king,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘Dost thou to our high presence bring?<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘What tribe has dared to hurl the brand<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘Of rebel war across our land?<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘Have traitorous warriors dipp’d in gore<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘The tomahawk, and rashly swore<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘The peace-tree’s leaves are struck with blight,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘And they will drink our blood to-night?<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘Or have the Manakins conspired<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘With the fierce nations of the west,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘By the vain hope of conquest fired,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘Our sceptre from our hands to wrest,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘And from their mountain homes come down<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘To meet the vengeance of our frown?<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘For by the swiftness of thy flight,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘And by the lateness of the night,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘And by thy darken’d brow, ’ -tis clear<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘Thou’rt on no common errand here;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘And be it wo, or be it weal,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘Thy message, warrior, now reveal.’<br /></span> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_27" id="page_27">{27}</a></span></div></div> -</div> - -<h3>X.</h3> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">‘Whether weal or wo betide,’<br /></span> -<span class="i0">He of the raven plume replied,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘Or whether war or death be near,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘Monarch, I neither know nor fear.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘My soul ne’er trembled at the sight<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘Of foeman yet in bloodiest fight,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘Though many a chief, in battle slain,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘This arm has stretch’d upon the plain.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘And in thy conflict’s darkest hour,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘Who rush’d amid the arrowy shower,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘And met the foremost of the foe,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘So oft as Opechancanough?<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘And though my nerves may tremble now,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘And looks of terror clothe my brow,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘Yet I protest, and may great Okee<a name="FNanchor_D_4" id="FNanchor_D_4"></a><a href="#Footnote_D_4" class="fnanchor">[D]</a> hear,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘These signs, that in my looks are blent,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘Are marks of wild astonishment,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘But not the work of fear.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘And wouldst thou know what makes me pale,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘Monarch, listen to my tale.<br /></span> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_28" id="page_28">{28}</a></span></div></div> -</div> - -<h3>XI.</h3> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">‘Soon as the morning sun was seen<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘On bright Pamunky’s banks of green,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘The silent groves, where sleep the deer,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘Waked with our hunters’ merry cheer.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘With echoing whoop and loud halloo<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘We startled soon a nimble doe;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘And forth she sprang from her darksome lair,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘And tossing high her head in air,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘With springing bound, and forward flight,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘Was soon again beyond our sight.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘But still, as fleetly on she flew,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘From hill to hill we caught a view,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘Nor lost her course, till on the shore<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘Where Chesapeake’s white surges roar,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘We stood—and saw a sight display’d,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">‘That fill’d us with amaze;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘The deer unhunted sought the shade,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">‘And we were left to gaze.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘Spirits that dart athwart the sky,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘When forked lightnings gleam and fly;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘And gods that thunder in the air,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘And cleave the oak and kill the bear;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘And beings that control the deep,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘Where crocodiles and serpents sleep;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘And powers that on the mountains stand,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘With storm and tempest in their hand;<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_29" id="page_29">{29}</a></span><br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘And forms that ride on cloudy cars,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘And sail among the midnight stars;—<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘The whole dread group that move in might,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘Unless some spell deceived our sight,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘We surely saw in league to-day<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘On the bright bosom of the bay.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘Whether for sport, in social mood,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘They met to sail upon the flood;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘Or bent on deeds of high design,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘They sought their forces to combine;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘Whether they came to blast or bless,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘We did not learn, nor could we guess.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘Their shallop was a stately thing,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘And gaily moved in lofty pride,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘Like a mountain eagle on the wing,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘Or swan upon the river tide.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘And three tall spires the shallop bore,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘That tower’d above our forest trees,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘And each a blood-red streamer wore,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘That floated idly on the breeze.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘And thrice in awful majesty<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘They sail’d across that deep, broad bay;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘And as they turn’d from either shore,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘We heard the heavy thunders roar,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘And saw the lightnings flashing wide<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘From out their mammoth shallop’s side;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘And then a cloud of smoky hue<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_30" id="page_30">{30}</a></span><br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘Around her waist arose to view;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘And rolling on the wind away,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘It floated slowly down the bay.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘And while in ambush near the beach<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘We watch’d the course the shallop took,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘She came within an arrow’s reach;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘And then it seem’d as though she shook<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘Her white wings, like a hovering bird<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘That stoops to light upon a spray;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘And sounds of voices now were heard,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘But motionless the shallop lay.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘And then a little skiff was seen,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘And some were paddling toward the shore;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘Their form was human, but their mein<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘Semblance of higher lineage bore;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘And one might read upon their face<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘Pale proofs of an unearthly race.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘And when they brought their skiff to land,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘They knelt them down upon the sand<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘Of that smooth beach; and on the sky<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘They fix’d a thoughtful, gazing eye,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘And long they look’d, and long they knelt,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘And loud they talk’d, as though there dwelt<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘Some viewless spirits above their head,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘Who listen’d to the words they said.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘And when they rose from bended knee,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘They stood beneath a birchen tree,<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_31" id="page_31">{31}</a></span><br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘And tore up a turf, and a branch they broke,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘And utter’d strange and uncouth names;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘But all we learn’d, of the words they spoke,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘Was “England and King James.”<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘Then back as they came we saw them glide<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘O’er the rippling wave in their painted skiff,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘And they clomb up the mammoth shallop’s side,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘That darken’d the wave like a mountain cliff.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘And soon she was moving away on the flood,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘Like a cloud which the mountain breezes fan,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘And with wings of white and streamers of blood,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘She bent her course to Kecoughtan.<a name="FNanchor_E_5" id="FNanchor_E_5"></a><a href="#Footnote_E_5" class="fnanchor">[E]</a><br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘Then up the wave that bears thy name<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘Along by the winding shore she swept;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘And crouching low, as if for game,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘Through thickets watchfully we crept;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘Till by that jutting point of land,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘Where the weary waters lingering go,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘And Paspahey’s<a name="FNanchor_F_6" id="FNanchor_F_6"></a><a href="#Footnote_F_6" class="fnanchor">[F]</a> tall forests stand,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘And their shadows on the eddy throw,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘We saw that shallop moor’d and still,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘And a throng so awful lined the shore,<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_32" id="page_32">{32}</a></span><br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘The very blood in our veins run chill.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘No longer we staid, nor witness’d more,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘But fled, great werowance,<a name="FNanchor_G_7" id="FNanchor_G_7"></a><a href="#Footnote_G_7" class="fnanchor">[G]</a> to thee,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘To make this strange adventure known;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘For warriors brave, and subjects free,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘And courage, and power, are all thine own.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘The thoughts that in thy bosom flow,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘Monarch, now bring before the light;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘Thy will and counsel I would know,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘But I may not tarry here to-night,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘For back to Pamunky my hunters have gone,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘And I must be there by the morning’s dawn.’<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<h3>XII.</h3> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Thus spoke Pamunky’s wily king;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The torch-light high was flickering;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">On Powhatan’s stern face it gleams,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">But from his eye shot fiercer beams,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">That told the fire, which vigor lit<br /></span> -<span class="i0">In his day of strength, was burning yet.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The monarch rose in musing mood,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And silent for a moment stood,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Wrapp’d in himself, as though he sought<br /></span> -<span class="i0">To grasp some hidden, vanish’d thought,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Which, rayless, vague, and undefined,<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_33" id="page_33">{33}</a></span><br /></span> -<span class="i0">Still seems to flit before the mind,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">A form unseen—But now a glow<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Of animation rose, as though<br /></span> -<span class="i0">That vanish’d thought in brightness broke<br /></span> -<span class="i0">At once upon his view; and then,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Turning toward his guest again,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Thus to the chief he spoke.<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<h3>XIII.</h3> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">‘Brother, a mist is round my head,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘And darkness in my path is spread;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘Thy tale is like the clouds of night;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘My thoughts are stars that shed no light;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘And much I marvel what may mean<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘This wondrous vision thou hast seen.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘That pale-face throng, with forms like ours,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘Are not the band of secret powers,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘Which thou hast fancied them to be;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘This would not solve the mystery,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘For spirits of fire and spirits of flood<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘Are foes that seek each other’s blood.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘My thoughts are bent another way;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘I hear a voice, that seems to say,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘They are but men, perchance, who seek,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘Along the shores of Chesapeake,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘To plant a tree whose roots shall spread,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘Broad and deep as that ocean bed,<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_34" id="page_34">{34}</a></span><br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘And whose tall branches shall expand,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘Till they o’ershadow all the land.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘I hear a voice that says, <i>beware</i>,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘Or thou wilt tread upon a snare;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘There is a way thou must not pass,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘A serpent lieth in the grass;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘There is a fountain thou must shun,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘For streams of poison from it run;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘There is a shade thou must not seek,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘For round it plays the lightning streak.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘I hear a voice in whispers low,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘That speaks of carnage, death, and wo,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘Of injured rights and ruthless power,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘And tempest-clouds, which soon shall lower:—<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘Some pestilence infects the air;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘I hear a voice that says, <i>beware</i>.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘Hast thou not heard our fathers tell<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘What once, in ages past, befell<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘Our race, what time Missouri’s tide<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘Beheld them sporting by its side?<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘While they in fearless quiet slept,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘A secret foe among them crept,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘And, ere they dream’d of coming scath,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘Had wellnigh struck the blow of death.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘Harmless at first he seem’d to be,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘And weak as helpless infancy;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘His face was bright with friendship’s smile,<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_35" id="page_35">{35}</a></span><br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘But in his heart was blackest guile;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘And soon to giant strength he grew,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘And thunderbolts around him threw,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘And many a death and many a wound<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘Among our sires he dealt around,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘And drove them from their peaceful home,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘Through forests deep and wild to roam.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘But o’er his head a murky cloud<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘Came down upon him as a shroud,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘And vengeance seized upon her prey<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘And hid him from the light of day.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘The stubborn oak that stood in pride,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘And all the thunderer’s wrath defied,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘By one red lightning stroke was riven,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘Like mist before the tempest driven.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘The tribes collected in their might,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘To glut themselves with wreakful fight,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘And swift their darts of bloody vengeance hurl’d,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘And Madoc and his host were wither’d from the world.{<a name="NT_6" id="NT_6"></a><a href="#note_6">6</a>}<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘Some race of men like these, I ween,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘Those beings are, which thou hast seen;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘And something whispers in my ear,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘Those beings must not linger here.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘And, chieftain, list now what I say;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘Hear my direction, and obey.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘When first to-morrow’s golden light<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_36" id="page_36">{36}</a></span><br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘Beams on the sable brow of night,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘What time the wild-birds wake the glen,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘Collect thy wisest, bravest men,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘And with them straight to Paspahey repair,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘And learn both who and whence these strange intruders are.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘Unto their pale-face leader show{<a name="NT_7" id="NT_7"></a><a href="#note_7">7</a>}<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘The pipe of peace and warlike bow;’<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘Nor fail withal to let them plainly know,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘We’ve calumets for friends, and arrows for a foe.’<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<h3>XIV.</h3> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Here paused the sage, and waved his hand,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The fiat of his high command—<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘Monarch, thy will shall be obey’d,’<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Was all the plumed chieftain said,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">As round his brawny limbs he drew{<a name="NT_8" id="NT_8"></a><a href="#note_8">8</a>}<br /></span> -<span class="i0">His feathery mantle, broad and blue,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And left the hall with lofty mein,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Plunged in the grove, nor more was seen.<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<p class="fint">END OF CANTO FIRST.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page_37" id="page_37">{37}</a></span></p> - -<h2><a name="CANTO_SECOND" id="CANTO_SECOND"></a>CANTO SECOND.</h2> - -<h3>I.</h3> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Softly</span> and light the moonbeams fell<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Upon that forest-cinctur’d cell,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Whose wicker walls were mottled brown<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Where shadows of the trees came down,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And gently moved and quiver’d there,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Like spirits dancing in the air.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">A stout and trusty guard was placed{<a name="NT_9" id="NT_9"></a><a href="#note_9">9</a>}<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Around the lodge, whose hands embraced<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The battle-axe or bended bow,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Ready to meet a coming foe;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And silent as the stars of night<br /></span> -<span class="i0">They watch’d from dusk till dawning light.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Hush’d were the echoes of the grove,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Where feeding deer in quiet rove;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The softly whispering zephyr’s breath<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Came by with a stillness next to death,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And silence hover’d with noiseless wing<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Over the monarch slumbering.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_38" id="page_38">{38}</a></span><br /></span> -<span class="i0">Slept Powhatan? Why think it strange?<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Terror in him could work no change;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">For he had seen too much of life<br /></span> -<span class="i0">To heed the approach of toil or strife;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">In perilous vicissitude grown old,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">He now could calmly rest though thunders round him roll’d.<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<h3>II.</h3> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">But o’er the monarch’s child, in vain,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Sleep sought to hold her wonted reign.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">With active thought she ponder’d o’er<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The plumed chieftain’s evening lore,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Till half it seem’d before her view<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Appear’d the strange unearthly crew;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And that wild tale on her had wrought such power,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">That she with sleepless eye had pass’d the midnight hour.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Forth in her airy summer dress,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">With footsteps light and echoless,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">All-unperceived she left the cell,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">By servant, sire, or sentinel.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">In such divine apparel seem’d<br /></span> -<span class="i0">That lovely night, you would have deem’d<br /></span> -<span class="i0">It had its bridal vesture on<br /></span> -<span class="i0">To wait and wed the coming dawn.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Its moonlight robe flow’d rich and free,<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_39" id="page_39">{39}</a></span><br /></span> -<span class="i0">Thick set with star-embroidery,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And round the earth and o’er the sky<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Hung like a garb of Deity.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The pageant of that glorious night<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Might well be gazed on with delight,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">But still the loveliest object there<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Was that lone maiden, young and fair,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Gliding abroad at such an hour,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">By forest tree and summer bower.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">On the distant groves of Paspahey<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Her eye was brightly turn’d,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And to be where that land in dimness lay<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Her bosom as warmly burn’d.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">What though the way was lonely and far?<br /></span> -<span class="i2">The dread of the stilly night,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Nor dark morass, had power to bar<br /></span> -<span class="i2">That maiden’s romantic flight;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And when from the east the azure tide<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Of day came over the wild,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">There stood alone by the river side<br /></span> -<span class="i2">The monarch’s artless child.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And she was gazing in wild surprise<br /></span> -<span class="i2">On a barque majestic and proud,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Whose masts appear’d, to her wondering eyes,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">High towering up to the vaulty skies,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">And as deep in the waters bow’d.<br /></span> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_40" id="page_40">{40}</a></span></div></div> -</div> - -<h3>III.</h3> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Not long she gazed on those masts so tall,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">And that ship so gallant and trim,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">For a hero’s form eclipsed them all,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">And her eyes were fix’d on him.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And peering forth from a friendly screen<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Of spruce and darkling fir,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">She plainly beheld the stranger’s mein,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">But the stranger saw not her.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">With martial cap and coat of red,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">And bright sword at his side,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">He paced the deck with a princely tread,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">And the dark woods calmly eyed.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">But soon o’er forest, glade, and stream<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Darted the sun’s bright morning beam,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And, glancing through her sheltering tree,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Awoke that maiden’s revery.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">She started, for ’ -twas now the hour<br /></span> -<span class="i0">When Opechancanough would come,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And thrice in haste she left the bower<br /></span> -<span class="i0">To trace her pathless journey home;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">But thrice return’d, she knew not why,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And, lingering, look’d with soul-lit eye<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Upon that stranger still;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Nor wist she what should make a sigh<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Her throbbing bosom fill.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">But hark! a voice is on the breeze,<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_41" id="page_41">{41}</a></span><br /></span> -<span class="i0">The raven-crested chief is near,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And, moving through the distant trees,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">His train of warriors now appear;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And like a wild and startled fawn,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Lightly that forest child has gone,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Through dark morass, and grove, and glen,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">To seek her father’s home again.<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<h3>IV.</h3> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">At dawning Powhatan arose<br /></span> -<span class="i0">From calm and undisturb’d repose,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And when his brief repast was done<br /></span> -<span class="i0">He summon’d forth his valiant son,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Dark Nantaquas, of manly form,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And soul with native courage warm,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">So nimble of foot and stout of limb,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">That few could wrestle or run with him.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘List, Nantaquas—hear our command;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘Take bow and hatchet in thy hand,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘And a full quiver at thy back,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘Lest foes may chance to cross thy track,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘And haste thee to our chieftains all,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘And each unto our council call.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘Call Chesapeakes and Nansamonds,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘And broad Potomac’s warlike sons,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘And rouse the chiefs of every clan,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘From Orapakes to Kecoughtan.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_42" id="page_42">{42}</a></span>’<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Fleet Nantaquas his sire obey’d,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And, in his warrior arms array’d,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">His quiver over his shoulders threw,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And away on the wings of morning flew.<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<h3>V.</h3> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Now Powhatan, in musing mood,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Abroad upon the hill-side stood;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Deep thoughts in his stern bosom burn’d,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">His eyes toward Paspahey were turn’d,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Watching each quivering tree and bird,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">As if mysterious foes had stirr’d<br /></span> -<span class="i0">His calm old woods, where he had reign’d<br /></span> -<span class="i0">For years, despotic, unrestrain’d,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And none had dared, or friend or foe,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Against his will to come or go.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">His left hand clasp’d his bow new-strung,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">His hatchet from his belt was hung,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Keen shafts his wolf-skin quiver press’d,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And on his war-club lean’d his breast.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Sudden a form glanced on his sight,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">At distance where the warm sun-light<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Pour’d through the trees its mellow ray,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And flowers rejoiced at the coming day.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And swiftly as that sun-light went<br /></span> -<span class="i0">His springing bow was up and bent:<br /></span> -<span class="i0">An arrow leapt into its place;<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_43" id="page_43">{43}</a></span><br /></span> -<span class="i0">The strain’d string almost touch’d his face,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And every muscle, fix’d and still,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Waited to do the monarch’s will.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Again that form broke on his view,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">But ere the deadly arrow flew,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">His eagle eye had told him well<br /></span> -<span class="i0">’ -Twas his loved daughter—Nerveless fell<br /></span> -<span class="i0">His brawny arm, and o’er his frame<br /></span> -<span class="i0">A cold a sickly shuddering came,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And reel’d his brain, and o’er his sight<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Came darkness like the depths of night.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">He rested on a fallen tree,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And soon his child, on bended knee,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Had clasp’d and kiss’d his aged hand,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And met his eye with look so bland,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">It made the clouds from his brow depart,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And quicken’d the life-blood in his heart.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘Speak, semblance of thy mother, speak,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘And tell where thou hast been;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘I saw thee beyond the old oak tree,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘On the farther side of the glen.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘This is no time for a child like thee<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘To wander away from home;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘Thou canst not tell what dangerous foes<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘Through our dark, deep forests roam.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘So soon hast thou forgotten, child,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘The tale of yesternight?<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_44" id="page_44">{44}</a></span><br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘That shallop, and the pale-face men,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘Who may in blood delight?<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘A thousand trophies of my power<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘Hang up in my council hall,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘But sooner than trust thee abroad alone,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘I’d sacrifice them all.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘Dear Metoka, where hast thou been<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘Through woods so dark and wild,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘Beyond the reach of thy father’s arm<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘To guard his gentle child?’<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<h3>VI.</h3> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">She lean’d against the monarch’s knee,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And again she kiss’d his hand—<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘I’ve been to Paspahey, to see<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘That strange mysterious band,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘That in the mighty shallop came,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘Loaded with thunder loud,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘And roll’d it out upon the bay,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘As Okee rolls it from a cloud.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘And in the river I beheld<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘Their shallop dark and tall,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘And their werowance so stately stepp’d,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘I knew him from them all.’<br /></span> -<span class="i0">These words roused up the monarch’s blood,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And made it quicker flow;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">He rose instinctive from his seat,<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_45" id="page_45">{45}</a></span><br /></span> -<span class="i0">And firmly clasp’d his bow—<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘Thy spirit came from mine, my child,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘As light comes from the sun;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘None but a Powhatan would dare<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘To do what thou hast done.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘Go, girl, arrange our council hall;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘Prepare the fires to light,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘For a deep and solemn council-talk<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘Our chiefs must hold to-night.’<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<h3>VII.</h3> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">The summer day glides slowly by;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Now golden gleams the western sky,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And twilight gray each valley fills,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And softly creeps upon the hills;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Now deep and deeper shadows fall,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And now within that trophied hall,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Flashing abroad on the brow of night,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The monarch’s council-fire burns bright.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The grim and murky spoils of war,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">That hung in rude disorder there,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Glared out from pillar, wall, and nook,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And wild and hideous semblance took.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Some were bequeath’d from sire to son,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">But Powhatan the most had won—<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Huge tomahawks, and war-clubs stout,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And wampum belts, hung round about,<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_46" id="page_46">{46}</a></span><br /></span> -<span class="i0">And mantles of skin, and robes of feather,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Piled in promiscuous heaps together.<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<h3>VIII.</h3> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Aloft in stern and regal state,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Upon his throne the monarch sate;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">His war-club rested in his hand,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The ensign of his high command;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">His trusty bow, against the wall,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Lean’d, ready at a moment’s call;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Over his shoulders, lightly flung,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">His feathery mantle graceful hung;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Rich skins beneath his feet were spread,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And eagle plumes waved o’er his head.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">His chiefs and warriors soon were seen,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Like silent spectres, gliding in,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And, ranged in circle round the room,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Each dark brow knit in threatening gloom,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">With blade in belt and bow in hand,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Like sculptured monuments they stand.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">There waved full many a lofty crest,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">But a raven-plume o’ertopp’d the rest,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">For first and tallest in the ring,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Like giant, stood Pamunky’s king.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">No word in that still hall was spoke,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Till Powhatan the silence broke,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And call’d a guardman to his side,<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_47" id="page_47">{47}</a></span><br /></span> -<span class="i0">His faithful Rawhunt, true and tried,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And bade him the rites in order set,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And bring the lighted calumet.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Then through that long and mystic reed,{<a name="NT_10" id="NT_10"></a><a href="#note_10">10</a>}<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Emblem of many a sacred deed,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Three solemn draughts the monarch drew,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And the smoke in three directions blew.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The first curl’d high above his head,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">In homage of that spirit dread<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Who ruleth in the upper air,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And maketh every man his care.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The second gently sunk to earth,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Where food and fruits and flowers have birth,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">A thankful offering to that power,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Who both at morn and evening hour,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Opens his bounteous hand to bless<br /></span> -<span class="i0">With life and health and happiness.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The third abroad on the air was blown,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">A solemn token to make known<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Unbroken faith to all who fain<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Would still be bound in friendship’s chain.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Then, one by one, that warrior train<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Smoked the long calumet again,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And gravely pass’d it round the ring,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Till, last of all, Pamunky’s king<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Thrice drew the reed in princely pride,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Then laid it silently aside.<br /></span> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_48" id="page_48">{48}</a></span></div></div> -</div> - -<h3>IX.</h3> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">To Powhatan now every chief<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Turn’d his dark eye, while slow and brief,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">As monarch speaketh to a man,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The council-talk he thus began.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘Chiefs and warriors! let your ears<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘Be open to the words we say;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘The cloud, that rests upon our land,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">‘Portends a troubled day.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘Chiefs and brothers! come what will,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘Keep ye the chain of friendship bright,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘And if the hour of conflict come,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘Then hand to hand, like brothers, fight.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘Chiefs and brothers! ye have heard<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘The strange events of yesterday,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘The mighty shallop, full of men,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘That thunder’d on our ocean bay,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘Then boldly up our river went,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">‘And stopp’d at Paspahey;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘Now listen while Pamunky’s king<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘Reveals the tidings of to-day.’<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<h3>X.</h3> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Like heavy cloud, portending storm,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Slow rose Pamunky’s giant form;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And laying bow and war-club by,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">On Powhatan he turn’d his eye,<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_49" id="page_49">{49}</a></span><br /></span> -<span class="i0">And while the chiefs in silence hung<br /></span> -<span class="i0">On every accent of his tongue,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">With flashing eye and bearing bold<br /></span> -<span class="i0">He thus the day’s adventure told.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘Ere left the lark her grassy nest<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘To pour her song upon the air,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘I call’d my warriors from their rest,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘And bade them for the woods prepare.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘Each one his stoutest war-club took,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘And each his trustiest bow;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘His hatchet above his girdle hung,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘His scalping-knife below;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘And well prepared for deadly fight,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘If foes should cross our way,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘Through forests dark we bent our course<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘To the groves of Paspahey.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘And when we came to the river side<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘The sun was shining bright,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘And the arms of a hundred pale-face men<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘Were gleaming in the light;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘And thick upon the shallop’s deck<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘Like forest trees they stood,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘And a hundred faces, pale as death,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘Look’d out upon the wood.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘But bravely to the river’s brink<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘I led my warrior train,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘And face to face, each glance they sent,<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_50" id="page_50">{50}</a></span><br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘We sent it back again.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘Their werowance look’d stern at me,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘And I look’d stern at him,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘And all my warriors clasp’d their bows<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘And nerved each heart and limb;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘I raised my heavy war-club high,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘And swung it fiercely round,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘And shook it toward the shallop’s side,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘Then laid it on the ground.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘And then the lighted calumet<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘I offer’d to their view,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘And thrice I drew the sacred smoke<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘And toward the shallop blew;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘And as the curling vapor rose,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘Soft as a spirit prayer,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘I saw the pale-face leader wave<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘A white flag in the air.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘Then launching out their painted skiff,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘They boldly came to land<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘And spoke us many a kindly word,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘And took us by the hand,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘Presenting rich and shining gifts,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘Of copper, brass, and beads,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘To show that they were men like us,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘And prone to generous deeds.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘We held a long and friendly talk,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘Inquiring whence they came,<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_51" id="page_51">{51}</a></span><br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘And who the leader of their band,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘And what their country’s name;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘And how their mighty shallop moved<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘Across the boundless sea,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘And why they touch’d our great king’s land<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘Without his liberty.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘They say that far beyond the sea<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘A pleasant land appears,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘And there their sires have made their graves<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘For many a hundred years;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘And there the men are numerous<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘As leaves upon the trees,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘And a thousand mighty shallops there<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘Are moved by every breeze.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘They call this bright land <i>England</i>,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘<span class="lftspc">’</span>Tis surrounded by the sea;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘<i>King James</i> they call their werowance,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘And a mighty chief is he;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘And <i>brave Sir John</i> is the name they give<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘To the leader of this band,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘Who only ask to rest awhile<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘On Powhatan’s wide land,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘To trade with us for skins and furs,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘And corn to make them bread,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘And a space to build their cabins,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘And a spot to bury their dead.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘If Powhatan will grant them this,<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_52" id="page_52">{52}</a></span><br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘We have no cause to fear,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘But loads of shining treasures<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘Shall enrich us every year.’<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<h3>XI.</h3> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Here paused Pamunky’s giant king,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And slowly left the council ring,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And cross’d the hall to the outer door,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And soon returning, gravely bore<br /></span> -<span class="i0">A loaded quiver—’twas not fill’d<br /></span> -<span class="i0">With barbed shafts that blood had spill’d,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">But gorgeous toys of English art<br /></span> -<span class="i0">To captivate the savage heart.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">While Powhatan with searching eyes<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Survey’d the strange and glittering prize,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The chiefs and warriors gather near,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And wait their sovereign’s voice to hear,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And gazing eagerly, meanwhile,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Pour their whole soul upon the pile.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">At length the monarch waved his hand,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The warriors backward farther stand,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And turn their ready ear and eye<br /></span> -<span class="i0">To catch the words of his reply.<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<h3>XII.</h3> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">‘Chiefs and warriors! still to me<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘Our troubled sky looks dark;<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_53" id="page_53">{53}</a></span><br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘How often a wasting fire has raged,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘That sprung from a single spark!<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘This English tree, that shows so fair,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘Must not in my realm take root,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘Nor till I better know its stock,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘Will I partake its fruit.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘These strangers come in friendly guise,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘And may for a time prove true,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘But the day we give them a footing here<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘I fear we long shall rue.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘Remember Madoc, and beware;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘Guard well our council-fires,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘Lest we be doom’d to meet the fate<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘That once befell our sires.’<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<h3>XIII.</h3> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">The listening throng, with awe profound,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Of every word drank in the sound;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The voice of Powhatan was law;{<a name="NT_11" id="NT_11"></a><a href="#note_11">11</a>}<br /></span> -<span class="i0">But in that glittering pile they saw<br /></span> -<span class="i0">A charm that had a magic power<br /></span> -<span class="i0">They never felt before that hour.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The monarch saw their kindling fire,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And yielded to their strong desire,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And when again they form’d the ring,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">He gravely bade Pamunky’s king<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Dispense the gifts, and see with care<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_54" id="page_54">{54}</a></span><br /></span> -<span class="i0">That each received his proper share.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The chiefs, in dazzling toys array’d,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Each other with delight survey’d,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And turn’d their trinkets in the light,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And danced for joy at the very sight.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The war-cloud from their brows was chased,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And the pale-face foes had been embraced<br /></span> -<span class="i0">As friends and brothers, had they been<br /></span> -<span class="i0">But in that hall of council then.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">But Powhatan’s dark eye of flame<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Their ecstacy began to tame,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And when again his voice was heard<br /></span> -<span class="i0">No word was spoke, no foot was stirr’d,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">While he made known his sovereign will,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And bade them every word fulfil.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">He charged them all to sleep at night<br /></span> -<span class="i0">On tomahawk and bow,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And to watch by day with eagle eye<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The footsteps of the foe;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">To keep their arrows pointed well,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Their bow-strings strong and sure,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And see that among them friendship’s chain<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Was ever bright and pure:<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And then with royal majesty<br /></span> -<span class="i0">His mantle around him threw,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And cross’d the hall with stately step,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And silently withdrew.<br /></span> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_55" id="page_55">{55}</a></span></div></div> -</div> - -<h3>XIV.</h3> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">The warrior train soon sunk to rest<br /></span> -<span class="i0">On deer-skins spread around;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Each sleeper’s bow was in his hand,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">But his sleep was deep and sound.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And now along the eastern sky<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The day begins to dawn;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Now twilight breaks upon the hills,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Now on the dewy lawn;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And now across the brightening groves<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The sun has pour’d his ray,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And now those warrior chiefs are up,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And each is on his way,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Through rugged woods, by the winding stream,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And across the tangled moor,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Each threading alone the track that leads<br /></span> -<span class="i0">To his own cabin door.<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<p class="fint">END OF CANTO SECOND.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page_57" id="page_57">{57}</a></span><span class="pagenum"><a name="page_56" id="page_56">{56}</a></span></p> - -<h2><a name="CANTO_THIRD" id="CANTO_THIRD"></a>CANTO THIRD.</h2> - -<h3>I.</h3> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Of</span> all the knights of England,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">That ever in armor shone,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The boldest and the truest heart<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Was that of brave Sir John.{<a name="NT_12" id="NT_12"></a><a href="#note_12">12</a>}<br /></span> -<span class="i0">He had pass’d through perils on the land,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And perils on the sea,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And oftentimes confronted death<br /></span> -<span class="i0">In Gaul and Germany;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And many a Transylvanian<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Could point to the spot and show<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Where the boldest of the Turkish knights<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Were by his hand laid low.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And when confined in dungeons,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Or driven as a slave,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The rescue that his own arm brought,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Proved well Sir John was brave.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">But now he was a pioneer<br /></span> -<span class="i0">In a new world’s solitude;<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_58" id="page_58">{58}</a></span><br /></span> -<span class="i0">The first to tread his pathless way<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Where frown’d the wild old wood;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And wilder still, the savage tribes<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Like fiends look’d fierce and grim,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">But they stirr’d not the blood of brave Sir John,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">For nothing daunted him.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">To plant a British colony<br /></span> -<span class="i0">He had cross’d the wide, wide sea,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And found thy future heritage,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">O sacred liberty!<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Now, infant Jamestown, smiled the morn,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">That should behold thy christening;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">That gallant band have lined thy shores,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And named thee after England’s king;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And well might English hearts beat high<br /></span> -<span class="i0">When first they breath’d thy virgin air,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">For never to them seem’d sky so bright,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Nor ever a land so fair.{<a name="NT_13" id="NT_13"></a><a href="#note_13">13</a>}<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Young hope was hovering o’er thy groves<br /></span> -<span class="i0">With her banner wide unfurl’d,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And on it a mighty empire shone,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The glory of the world.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And fancy saw the wilderness<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Like magic melt away,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And tender blossoms of the earth<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Spring to the light of day;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And streams, that through the solemn wood<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_59" id="page_59">{59}</a></span><br /></span> -<span class="i0">Their ancient courses run,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Felt the fresh breath of mountain airs,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And brighten’d in the sun;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And far along the ocean shore<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The sails of commerce flew,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And up a thousand shelter’d bays<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Bright cities rose to view;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And all the wide-spread continent,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">That slept in dark repose,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Awoke to life and loveliness,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And blossom’d as the rose.<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<h3>II.</h3> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Now crack’d the woodman’s axe full loud,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And fast the sturdy forest bow’d:<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Tall trees, that waved like fields of grain,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Came crackling, crashing to the plain;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Their green leaves faded in the sun,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And flashing fires across them run;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And openings spread, and fields were clear’d,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And rustic huts and cabins rear’d.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">A picket fort by the river side<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The battle-axe and bow defied;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And the mingled hum of the busy throng<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Echo’d the hills and woods along,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And joyous shoutings, wild and free,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Rose from the infant colony.<br /></span> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_60" id="page_60">{60}</a></span></div></div> -</div> - -<h3>III.</h3> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">But Jamestown saw a darker day,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">When months of toil had pass’d away,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">For wailings sounded through the air,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And sorrow made her dwelling there.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The summer sun, now riding high,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Pour’d down the rays of hot July;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The woodman scarce his axe could wield,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Fainted the laborers in the field,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And pale disease began to spread,{<a name="NT_14" id="NT_14"></a><a href="#note_14">14</a>}<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And scowling famine rear’d her head,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And many an exile droop’d and died<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Along the lonely river side,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Where wearily he went to roam,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And weep unseen for his English home.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Great Powhatan had been obey’d—<br /></span> -<span class="i0">No Indian now would come to trade;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">But hovering round the settlement<br /></span> -<span class="i0">With bow in hand and ready bent,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And peering out from his covert wood<br /></span> -<span class="i0">On the fields where the English cabins stood,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Exulting saw pale-faces fade,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And often in the graveyard laid.<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<h3>IV.</h3> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Why perish thus the exiled band,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Where plenty teemeth in the land?<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_61" id="page_61">{61}</a></span><br /></span> -<span class="i0">For one abides among them there<br /></span> -<span class="i0">With hand to do and heart to dare,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And in his eye and on his brow<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Are deeds of daring written now,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">That to the fainting band shall be<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Warrant for their high destiny.<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<h3>V.</h3> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">A gallant barge is on the tide,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And stoutly twelve good oars are plied,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Sir John the guiding helm commands,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">His loaded gun beside him stands,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">His broadsword glistens on his thigh,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The woods are pierced by his beaming eye,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">As down by the river shore they sweep,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Where the shadows of the forest sleep,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Till their weary oars they rest awhile<br /></span> -<span class="i0">On the fragrant banks of Cedar Isle.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Not long they rest, but onward soon,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Beneath the fervid glow of noon,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">In the glassy flood their oars they bend,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And the vessel forward swiftly send,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Till nearing now they clearly scan<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The groves and beach of Kecoughtan.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">As nearer to the shore they drew,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">A warrior train appear’d in view,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And each a bow and war-club bore,<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_62" id="page_62">{62}</a></span><br /></span> -<span class="i0">And now they reach the winding shore,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And stand like statues, mute and still,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Waiting to learn the bargemen’s will.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Like rider reining in his steed,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The oarsmen slacken now their speed,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And slowly floats the barge along<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Close to that wild and warlike throng,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And as it grates upon the sand<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Each rower’s gun is in his hand.<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<h3>VI.</h3> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Sir John in friendly accents spoke,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And ask’d their king to see;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">They pointed to a shelter’d lodge<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Beneath a giant tree;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And when away where the old oak grew<br /></span> -<span class="i0">They moved with haughty strides,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Sir John and his little band march’d up<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And follow’d their grim guides.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And here a village rose in sight,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Where the woods look’d dark and wild,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">But silence reign’d in every lodge,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Nor saw they man or child.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Then spoke Sir John to his guides again,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And ask’d their chief to see.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">They answer’d not, but away to the woods<br /></span> -<span class="i0">They pointed silently;<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_63" id="page_63">{63}</a></span><br /></span> -<span class="i0">And into the woods with quicken’d step<br /></span> -<span class="i0">They silently withdrew,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And in their village left Sir John<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Alone with his vessel’s crew.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">But soon from the forest came again<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Dark warriors with their bows,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And painted men on every side<br /></span> -<span class="i0">From brake and bush arose;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And a warlike throng came up the path,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">That led from the river shore,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And, moving quick, with hideous shouts,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Their sacred Okee bore—<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Great Okee, whose mysterious power<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Is in the earth and air,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">In fire and flood and stormy winds,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And worketh every where.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Great Okee, dress’d in painted robes,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And shining chains and beads,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Who in the silent night performs<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Unutterable deeds,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And safely through the darkest hour<br /></span> -<span class="i0">His faithful people leads—<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Great Okee cometh in the van<br /></span> -<span class="i0">With war-plume on his head;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">His brow is striped with black and white,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">His cheeks are gory red;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And to the pale mysterious throng<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_64" id="page_64">{64}</a></span><br /></span> -<span class="i0">They now are pressing near,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">But Okee cometh in the van,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Why should his people fear?<br /></span> -<span class="i0">A sudden war-whoop, wild and fierce,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Rings upward to the sky,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And a hundred warriors draw their bows,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And a hundred arrows fly.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">But answering muskets quick give back<br /></span> -<span class="i0">To the woods a roaring sound;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Each bowman flies, and Okee falls<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Alone upon the ground.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Sir John the painted idol took,{<a name="NT_15" id="NT_15"></a><a href="#note_15">15</a>}<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And bore it to the shore;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And soon a suppliant priest came down<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Its ransom to implore.<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<h3>VII.</h3> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">The barge is on the tide again,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And rapidly it flies,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">For long its coming has been watch’d<br /></span> -<span class="i0">By anxious waiting eyes;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And now those eyes are brightening,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And hearts are beating light,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And hope’s dim fires are lit anew,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">For plenty greets their sight.<br /></span> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_65" id="page_65">{65}</a></span></div></div> -</div> - -<h3>VIII.</h3> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">The monarch was feasting in royal state,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And many brave chiefs at the banquet sate:<br /></span> -<span class="i0">His hunters had brought in their choicest store,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">His fishers came loaded from Chesapeake’s shore;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">His menials hasten a feast to prepare<br /></span> -<span class="i0">From the mingled spoils of earth, ocean, and air,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And a merry hum circled round the board,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">That so simply was spread and so richly was stored.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Fair Metoka sat at the monarch’s right hand,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The waiters stood watchful to do his command,{<a name="NT_16" id="NT_16"></a><a href="#note_16">16</a>}<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And while on his left his younger child,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The gay Matachanna, look’d on him and smiled,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And amid the guests, that graced his hall,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">His own valiant son was the pride of all,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The patriarch monarch gave thanks from his heart,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">That the Spirit such blessings to him did impart.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">But a messenger comes from the spying scout,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Which Powhatan’s caution kept constantly out,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">To watch every movement the pale-faces made,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And see that his people went not there to trade.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘What tidings from Jamestown?’ the monarch inquires;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘Do the pale-faces thrive by their council-fires?<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘Are their hearts as light as the wild-bird’s song?<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘Do they walk like a people who feel they are strong?<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘Do our tribes still obey our imperial command?<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_66" id="page_66">{66}</a></span>’<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘Or has food been bestow’d by a traitor’s hand?’<br /></span> -<span class="i0">—‘The tree of the pale-face is sapless and dried,’<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The messenger spy to the monarch replied;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘Its branches are wither’d, and sear’d is its leaf,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘And the reign of the pale-face is harmless and brief.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘No hand brings them food, their own fountain is dry;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘A blight is upon them, they fade and they die,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘And soon Powhatan will be rid of his foe,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘Without wielding the war-club or drawing the bow.’<br /></span> -<span class="i0">When the tale of the colonists’ woes was done,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">A smile sat on every brow save one:<br /></span> -<span class="i0">A murmur of joy spread the hall throughout,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The warriors gave a triumphant shout;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">But while other hearts with delight beat high,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Fair Metoka’s bosom still heaved with a sigh.<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<h3>IX.</h3> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">In the midst of that shouting and joyous uproar<br /></span> -<span class="i0">A Kecoughtan warrior rush’d in at the door;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">His visage was haggard, and flying his hair,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">From his restless eye shot a fiery glare,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">His breathing was quick, and his mantle was torn,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">His tough skin moccasins muddy and worn,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And the only weapon he wielded or wore<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Was a war-club stout, which he dash’d on the floor.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Every sound in that hall in a moment was hush’d,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And the semblance of joy from each visage was brush’d.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_67" id="page_67">{67}</a></span><br /></span> -<span class="i0">Not a word nor a whisper escaped from the crowd,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Till Powhatan order’d that warrior aloud,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">His message, whate’er it might be, to make known,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And declare why he came in such haste and alone.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘I come,’ said the warrior, ‘from Kecoughtan’s king,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘And appalling and sad are the tidings I bring:<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘A cloud full of blackness is over us spread,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘And the thick bolts of heaven leap awful and red;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘Our god is dishonor’d, and soon will his ire<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘Sweep the realm of the monarch with thunder and fire,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘Unless the foul insult be wash’d from the land<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘By the hateful blood of the pale-face band.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘Sir John and his warriors have been to our shore,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘And their coming we long shall have cause to deplore;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘Our children no longer can quietly sleep,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘The wounds of our people are bloody and deep;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘With smoke and with fire, and a thundering sound,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘Great Okee was hurl’d like a chief to the ground,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘And dragg’d like a captive, and borne from the plain,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘And barter’d and sold like a deer that is slain.’<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<h3>X.</h3> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">The messenger ceased, his voice was still;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">But from that hall a war-cry shrill<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Roll’d over river, grove, and hill,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">So loud, so sharp, so piercing clear,<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_68" id="page_68">{68}</a></span><br /></span> -<span class="i0">For miles around the startled deer<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Raised high their heads and snuff’d the breeze,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Gazed through the distant opening trees,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And arch’d their necks, and raised their feet,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Then clear’d the ground with step so fleet,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">That soon the dark and silent glen<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Secured them from pursuit of men.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Grim warriors smote their breasts, and cried,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘Vengeance shall humble pale-face pride;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘Away, away, to Jamestown’s shore,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘Our scalping-knives all thirst for gore.’<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Stout Nantaquas with furious look<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Aloft his knotted war-club shook;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">His bosom panted for the strife<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Of war-club, battle-axe, or knife.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Pamunky’s iron visage glow’d<br /></span> -<span class="i0">With passion’s fire, as round he trode,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And cross’d the hall from side to side,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And shook it with his giant stride.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Raged and foam’d Nemattanow,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Rattled his quiver and strain’d his bow,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And vow’d no sleep his eyes should know,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Till he had tasted English blood,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And avenged the insult to his god.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">But Powhatan sat like a rock,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">That moves not mid the tempest shock;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And while he watch’d his people’s rage,<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_69" id="page_69">{69}</a></span><br /></span> -<span class="i0">Which he alone had power to assuage,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Passions that his own visage wrought<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Show’d equal fire, but more of thought.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Sternly the monarch look’d around,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And waved his hand: hush’d was each sound;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The warriors bent a listening ear<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Their sovereign’s high behest to hear,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">While with rebuke and counsel bold<br /></span> -<span class="i0">He soon their fiery mood controll’d.<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<h3>XI.</h3> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">‘Chiefs and warriors! why so high<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘Are raised the shout and battle-cry?<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘Why meet this strange mysterious foe,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘Before his power and arms ye know?<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘In darkness would ye rush to fight,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘Or wait till ye can see the light?<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘Why would ye grapple in his den<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘The fierce and strong-arm’d panther, when,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘By waiting patiently awhile,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘He’ll surely fall within your toil?<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘Calm your fierce rage, let reason show<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘The way, the hour, to meet the foe.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘Great Okee’s wrongs must be repaid,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘But be the vengeful blow delayed.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘Meantime let scouts through grove and glen<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘Watch every step of the pale-face men;<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_70" id="page_70">{70}</a></span><br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘Creep cautiously through bush and brake,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘Beside their path, like noiseless snake,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘And watch till the certain moment come,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘Then strike the death-blow deep and home.’<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<h3>XII.</h3> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">The feast was o’er, the guests were gone,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Soon came the tranquil evening on,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The bright moon rose above the trees,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Soft blew the cooling summer breeze,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And forth to enjoy the tranquil hour<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The sisters sought their greenwood bower.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Sweet wild-flowers grew around their seat,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">A fountain sparkled at their feet,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">On whose bright bosom trembling lay<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The dark tree-top and moon’s pale ray.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Young Matachanna’s eye shone bright<br /></span> -<span class="i0">With joy at all this lovely sight,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">But when on Metoka’s sweet face<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The moonbeam found a resting-place,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">It met a look of sadness there,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">That told her heart was press’d with care.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘Dear Metoka,’ her sister said,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘A tear is in your eye;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘Why are you sad when I am glad?<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘Dear sister, tell me why.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘And when I smile and kiss your cheek,<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_71" id="page_71">{71}</a></span><br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘You answer with a sigh;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘There is a trembling in your voice;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘Dear sister, tell me why.’<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<h3>XIII.</h3> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">‘O, Matachanna, o’er my life<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘A dark cloud spreads its shade,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘And willingly would Metoka<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘Be in the green earth laid.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘For then to that fair land where dwells<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘My spirit-mother, I should go:<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘But here abides no joy for me—<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘I cannot love Nemattanow.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘And though rare presents he has brought<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘To win me for his bride,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘And though he talks me very fair<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘When sitting by my side,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘And though our father likes him well,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘And says that I must wed,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘I cannot love Nemattanow,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘I rather would be dead.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘They say that none among our tribes<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘Can draw so true a bow,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘And none brings home so many scalps<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘As does Nemattanow;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘And when the hunters’ spoils are shared,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘His is the largest part;<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_72" id="page_72">{72}</a></span><br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘But I cannot love Nemattanow,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘He has a cruel heart.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘I love to hear the wild-bird sing<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘Unharm’d in the leafy tree,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘I love to see the gentle deer<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘Through the forest running free;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘But ’tis Nemattanow’s delight<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘To slay them with his dart:<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘I cannot love Nemattanow,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘He has a cruel heart.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘He cares not for the sweetest flowers<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘That grow beside the spring,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘He never saves a captive’s life,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘But a scalp will always bring:<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘How could I live with such a man<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘In his cabin away alone?<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘His heart beats not with tenderness,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘<span class="lftspc">’</span>Tis hard as any stone.’<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<h3>XIV.</h3> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">‘O, sister, do not grieve thee so,’<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Young Matachanna said,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘Our sire will never compel thee, dear,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘Against thy will to wed.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘<i>He</i> is not <i>cruel</i>, who else may be;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘His love we oft have tried;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘And what we both have ask’d of him<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_73" id="page_73">{73}</a></span><br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘He never yet denied.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘I’ll put my arms about his neck<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘And tell him of sister’s wo,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘And sure he’ll never compel thee, love,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘To wed Nemattanow.’<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<h3>XV.</h3> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Now in the monarch’s quiet lodge<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Sleep comes its balm to bring,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And o’er the young and innocent<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Spreads out its angel wing,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And fans the trembling tear away<br /></span> -<span class="i0">From the closed lids at rest,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And steeps in soft forgetfulness<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The day-dreams of the breast.<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<h3>XVI.</h3> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Where rests Nemattanow the while?<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Is sleep to him as kind?<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And has it calm’d the passion-flame,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">That preys upon his mind?<br /></span> -<span class="i0">On his deer-skin soft, full six miles off,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">He has pillow’d his restless brain,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And has turn’d himself from side to side,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And tried to sleep in vain;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">For over his deep and burning thoughts<br /></span> -<span class="i0">His will has no control;<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_74" id="page_74">{74}</a></span><br /></span> -<span class="i0">He only thinks of Metoka,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Whose beauty has fired his soul.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Hour after hour he watch’d the moon<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Steal over his cabin floor,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And the more he look’d upon its light,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">He thought of her the more;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And if his fancy stray’d abroad<br /></span> -<span class="i0">In the chase o’er plain and hill,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Or wander’d by the moon-lit stream,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Her image met him still.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">He rose and left his sleepless couch,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And into the woods has gone;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">He crosses meadow, grove, and glen,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And still he wanders on;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And when on Metoka’s abode<br /></span> -<span class="i0">First glanced the morning beam,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Nemattanow was in the bower<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Beside the fountain stream.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And round that bower and through the grove<br /></span> -<span class="i0">He linger’d all day long,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">To catch a glimpse of Metoka,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Or listen to her song;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And when her form glanced on his sight,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Or her voice through the air rung clear,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">It sent a sun-light to his heart,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And a joy upon his ear.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">But oh, how soon that sun-light fled,<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_75" id="page_75">{75}</a></span><br /></span> -<span class="i0">How quick that thrill of joy was dead,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">When recollection came again<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And whirl’d the thought across his brain,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">That since he brought with anxious care<br /></span> -<span class="i0">His choicest presents to the fair,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Four suns had risen and four had set,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">But his gifts were not accepted yet!<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<h3>XVII.</h3> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">’Twas now the early twilight hour,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">That kindly comes with soothing power<br /></span> -<span class="i0">To calm the day’s tumultuous strife,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And smooth the stormy waves of life.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Nemattanow, with thoughtful eye<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Fix’d on the changeful evening sky,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Lean’d him against an aged tree,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Whose top for many a century<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Had bathed in the earliest beams of day<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And felt the sun’s last setting ray.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Out on a gentle hill-side stood<br /></span> -<span class="i0">This aged monarch of the wood,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Whence Powhatan’s gray lodge was seen,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">His fields, and groves, and valleys green;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And the younger trees on the sloping brow<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Around this old trunk seem’d to bow,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">As if it had a right to be<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The ruler of their destiny.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_76" id="page_76">{76}</a></span><br /></span> -<span class="i0">The monarch loved this relic old<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Of other days; perhaps the hold<br /></span> -<span class="i0">It had upon his heart arose<br /></span> -<span class="i0">From the charm similitude bestows,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">For the scenes of life around it thrown<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Seem’d but the shadowing of his own.<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<h3>XVIII.</h3> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Now walking his accustom’d round<br /></span> -<span class="i0">At closing of the day,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Old Powhatan the hill-side clomb,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And look’d toward Paspahey,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Where the English band had marr’d his groves<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And made his forest bow,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And bitter was the curse he breathed,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And dark his frowning brow.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And here beside his old loved tree<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Reclined Nemattanow,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Whose sadden’d eye and heaving breast<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Betray’d his secret wo.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘Let not the warrior’s eye grow sad,’<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The monarch gravely said,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘Because his gifts are not approved<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘By a young light-hearted maid.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘It is not meet that Powhatan<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘Should bid his daughter love<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘The warrior, or receive his gifts,<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_77" id="page_77">{77}</a></span><br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘Unless her heart approve.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘But let the warrior bring to me<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘The scalp of brave Sir John,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘And Metoka shall be his bride,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘And he the monarch’s son.’<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<h3>XIX.</h3> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">New fire lit up the glowing eyes<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Of sad Nemattanow;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">He smote his war-club on the ground,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And firmly grasp’d his bow;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And tomahawk and scalping-knife<br /></span> -<span class="i0">He buckled to his side,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Gave one fierce look toward Paspahey,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And down the valley hied.<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<p class="fint">END OF CANTO THIRD.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page_79" id="page_79">{79}</a></span><span class="pagenum"><a name="page_78" id="page_78">{78}</a></span></p> - -<h2><a name="CANTO_FOURTH" id="CANTO_FOURTH"></a>CANTO FOURTH.</h2> - -<h3>I.</h3> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">The</span> moon look’d down with loving light<br /></span> -<span class="i0">On river, grove, and hill,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And Jamestown slept in quietness,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Her homes were closed and still;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The evening prayer from pious lips<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Had been address’d to heaven,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And for relief from famine’s power<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Had many thanks been given;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And while his people were at rest<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Sir John was out alone,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And walking by the river bank,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Where the moon-lit waters shone,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">To see his vessel well secured<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Against the chafing wave.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Fear not for him; Sir John was arm’d—<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And more, Sir John was brave.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">But as he turn’d him from the shore,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">His homeward route to trace,<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_80" id="page_80">{80}</a></span><br /></span> -<span class="i0">An arrow swift as light flew past—<br /></span> -<span class="i0">So near, it fann’d his face;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And quick upon his pathway rush’d<br /></span> -<span class="i0">An Indian, stout and tall.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Sir John his faithful carbine drew,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Well-charged with shot and ball;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">But though a squirrel he could bring<br /></span> -<span class="i0">From the highest forest bough,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And though he took deliberate aim,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">His carbine fail’d him now.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">On came the savage, dark and fierce,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Fire beaming from his eye,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Leaping like tiger on his prey,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">His war-club raised on high;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">But when within ten feet he came,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">He made a sudden stand,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">For now Sir John’s bright sword was out,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And flashing in his hand;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And firm he stood and sternly look’d<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Upon his savage foe,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">In readiness, at every point,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">To give him blow for blow.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">A moment’s pause, and then again<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The Indian forward sprang,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And now against his falling club<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Sir John’s keen broadsword rang;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And thrice the clash of club and sword<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_81" id="page_81">{81}</a></span><br /></span> -<span class="i0">Echo’d the woods around,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And then the weapon of Sir John<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Fell broken to the ground.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">At once he rush’d with desperate power<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And grappled with his foe,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And, face to face, he saw and knew<br /></span> -<span class="i0">’ -Twas fierce Nemattanow.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">More deadly grew the conflict then;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">It was no feeble strife,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">When two such warriors, hand to hand,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Were struggling, life for life.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The hatchet of Nemattanow<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Bore a well-sharpen’d blade,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And now to draw it from his belt<br /></span> -<span class="i0">His hand was on it laid;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">But quick the strong arm of Sir John<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Clasp’d the stout Indian round,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And with a mighty effort brought<br /></span> -<span class="i0">His foeman to the ground.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And as they fell, Nemattanow<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Clutch’d fast his flowing hair,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And twisted it about his hand,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">As if he would prepare<br /></span> -<span class="i0">To cut away his living scalp<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Before he took his life;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And now with vigorous gripe he seized<br /></span> -<span class="i0">His deadly scalping-knife.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_82" id="page_82">{82}</a></span><br /></span> -<span class="i0">Again Sir John with iron nerve<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Summon’d his utmost strength;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Their grapple, from the river side,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Was scarcely twice his length;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The grassy bank was smooth and steep,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And dark and deep the flood—<br /></span> -<span class="i0">A moment more, that scalping-knife<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Would surely drink his blood—<br /></span> -<span class="i0">With wiry spring and giant power<br /></span> -<span class="i0">A sudden whirl he gave,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And over and over, down they roll’d,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And plunged beneath the wave.{<a name="NT_17" id="NT_17"></a><a href="#note_17">17</a>}<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<h3>II.</h3> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Now stealing through the forest trees<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The ruddy morning broke,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And, pouring in its dewy light,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The slumbering monarch woke.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">He rose, and in his morning walk,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">To the sloping hill he hied,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And there again by his old loved tree<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Nemattanow he spied.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Weary and worn the warrior seem’d,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">His temple show’d a wound,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And dripping water from his hair<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Was moistening the ground.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">No quiver now was at his back,<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_83" id="page_83">{83}</a></span><br /></span> -<span class="i0">Nor war-club by his side;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Nor battle-axe nor scalping-knife<br /></span> -<span class="i0">His enemies defied.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">But though all weaponless he stood,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">His look was bold and free,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And proud his bearing was, like one<br /></span> -<span class="i0">High flush’d with victory.<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<h3>III.</h3> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">‘And hast thou met,’ said Powhatan,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘The foeman of our race?<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘Methinks the joy of triumph now<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘Is beaming from thy face.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘But wherefore art thou weaponless,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘And wounded, worn, and weak?<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘And where’s the scalp of the mighty chief,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘Thou wentest forth to seek?’<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<h3>IV.</h3> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">‘I met that chief, and proved him well,’<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Nemattanow replied,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘And I left him down three fathoms deep<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘Beneath the sluggish tide.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘Our people now through all our groves<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘Their accustom’d walks may take,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘Nor start and cry, “There comes Sir John!”<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘If a twig but chance to break.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_84" id="page_84">{84}</a></span><br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘Our fight was bloody, long, and fierce;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘The moon alone look’d on,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘And none but the river-god can tell<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘Where sleeps the brave Sir John.’<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<h3>V.</h3> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">‘The daring deed was bravely done,’<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The joyful chief replied;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘For this, henceforth thou art my son,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘And Metoka thy bride.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘Three days a merry festival<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘Thy triumph shall proclaim,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘And every grove through all our tribes<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘Shall ring aloud thy name;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘And when these joyous days are past,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘Fair Metoka shall go,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘In all our choicest gifts array’d,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘To bless Nemattanow.’<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<h3>VI.</h3> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Now through the halls of Powhatan<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The voice of gladness wakes,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And ringing out from hill to hill<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The shout of triumph breaks.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Stout warriors come with wampum belts<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And robes of blue and red,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And many a chief in rich attire,<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_85" id="page_85">{85}</a></span><br /></span> -<span class="i0">With war-plume on his head;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And men and maidens in their joy<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The hall of council throng,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And every lodge and every grove<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Echoes with dance and song.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And rich and plenteous is the feast<br /></span> -<span class="i0">On every board spread out;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Joy sparkles from a thousand eyes,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">High peals the merry shout;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And loud and often in their glee<br /></span> -<span class="i0">They bless Nemattanow,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Whose powerful arm had overcome<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Their strange and mighty foe.<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<h3>VII.</h3> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">And now, to appease great Okee’s ire,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The priests with solemn care<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Enter the sacred temple halls,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And mystic rites prepare—<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Those sacred halls where priests perform<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Their fearful mystery,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Places by far too holy deem’d<br /></span> -<span class="i0">For other eyes to see—<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Temples that shield from vulgar sight{<a name="NT_18" id="NT_18"></a><a href="#note_18">18</a>}<br /></span> -<span class="i0">A thousand holy things,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Their idols, tombs, and images<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Of great and ancient kings.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_86" id="page_86">{86}</a></span><br /></span> -<span class="i0">Out on a grassy, open spot,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Are fagots piled on high,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And leaping flame and rolling smoke<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Are towering to the sky;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And there, to wait the priest’s return,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Hundreds are gather’d round,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">To join the mystic revelry,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And dance on holy ground—<br /></span> -<span class="i0">When lo! the solemn man comes forth{<a name="NT_19" id="NT_19"></a><a href="#note_19">19</a>}<br /></span> -<span class="i0">With slow and measured tread;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">A crown of snakes and weasel skins<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Is borne upon his head;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Atop a tuft of feathers serves<br /></span> -<span class="i0">To bind them in their place,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And serpent heads and weasel claws<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Hang round his neck and face.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">His naked shoulders and his breast<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Are stain’d a blood-red hue,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And grim and blood-red is the mask<br /></span> -<span class="i0">His fiery eyes look through.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The sacred weed is in his hand,{<a name="NT_20" id="NT_20"></a><a href="#note_20">20</a>}<br /></span> -<span class="i0">That Okee’s favor wins,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Whose grateful odor hath the power<br /></span> -<span class="i0">To expiate all sins;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">He hurls it forth with sinewy arm<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Into the hottest flame,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And thrice aloud in solemn tone<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_87" id="page_87">{87}</a></span><br /></span> -<span class="i0">Invokes great Okee’s name.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">At once they leap and form a ring,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">With shout and hideous yell,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And round the flames they whirl and scream,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Like a thousand fiends of hell.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">With strange contortions, flashing eyes,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And long and flying hair,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Around and round, for six long hours,{<a name="NT_21" id="NT_21"></a><a href="#note_21">21</a>}<br /></span> -<span class="i0">They battle with the air.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And then again through every hall<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The feast and song renew,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And all day long and all the night<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Their festive mirth pursue.<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<h3>VIII.</h3> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">The third day of the festival<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Now drawing to its close,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Promised the weary revellers<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Cessation and repose.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Nemattanow with joyful eyes<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Beheld that sun go down,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Whose setting hour would give to him<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Earth’s richest, fairest crown.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">But though the time had joyous pass’d<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Since first the feast began,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">One circumstance there was, that still<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Disturb’d old Powhatan.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_88" id="page_88">{88}</a></span><br /></span> -<span class="i0">His favorite chief, Pamunky’s king,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Though call’d with special care<br /></span> -<span class="i0">To grace these glad rejoicing days,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Had never once been there.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Why he came not, no one could tell;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">A messenger each day,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Had been despatch’d to learn the cause<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Which kept that chief away;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The first reported he had left<br /></span> -<span class="i0">With fifty of his clan,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">At dawning of the first feast-day,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">For the halls of Powhatan;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And those who follow’d, day by day,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">No other news could bring,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And great the marvel was, at this<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Strange absence of the king.<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<h3>IX.</h3> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">The sun is low, and lodge and tree<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Long shadows now impart,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">But a sadder, deeper shadow fell<br /></span> -<span class="i0">On Metoka’s young heart;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">For now the dreaded hour had come<br /></span> -<span class="i0">When she abroad must rove,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Away from childhood’s happy home,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">With the man she could not love.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">She took her sister by the hand<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_89" id="page_89">{89}</a></span><br /></span> -<span class="i0">To bid a sad farewell,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And these the soft and tender words<br /></span> -<span class="i0">From her trembling lips that fell.<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<h3>X.</h3> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">‘O, Matachanna, must I go<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘From this loved spot away?<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘No more among these green old trees,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘With thee, dear sister, play?<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘No more upon the hill-side run,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘And chase the butterfly,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘Or down the shady valley see<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘The nimble deer dart by?<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘A pleasant thing it is to see<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘The lovely light of day,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘When gentle Matachanna is<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘Companion of my way!<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘But away alone with a cruel one,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘My day will turn to night,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘And never more will Metoka<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘Behold the pleasant light.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘But when, dear sister, I am gone,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘Still love our greenwood bowers,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘And plant around our lovely spring<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘The pretty summer flowers.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘And love our father fervently,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘And bless him every day,<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_90" id="page_90">{90}</a></span><br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘And sometimes gently speak to him<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘Of her that’s far away—’<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<h3>XI.</h3> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">But hark! a shout comes on the air,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">A war-cry loud and shrill;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">It seems a shout of victory—<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Again, and louder still.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Old Powhatan rush’d from the hall<br /></span> -<span class="i0">With war-club in his hand,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And a hundred warriors seize their arms,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And round the old chief stand,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And listen to that coming shout,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">That now rings loud and clear;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And soon from out the darkling grove<br /></span> -<span class="i0">A warrior train appear.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘Pamunky’s king!’ cried Powhatan,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘<span class="lftspc">’</span>Tis Opechancanough;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘I see his raven-plume on high,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘His giant form below.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘Now let a cry of welcome rise<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘Till hill and forest ring,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘For a truer chief no tribe can boast,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘Than brave Pamunky’s king.’<br /></span> -<span class="i0">At once with one united voice<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Their answering shout rose high,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And loud and long the echo swell’d,<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_91" id="page_91">{91}</a></span><br /></span> -<span class="i0">Like an army’s battle-cry.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Pamunky led his warriors up,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Form’d in a hollow square,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">With bowstrings drawn and arrows notch’d,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">All pointing in with care,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">To guard a prisoner, who with arms<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Tight-pinion’d might be seen<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Advancing with a stately step,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And calm and noble mein.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">On either side three warriors stout<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Held fast upon each arm,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">With weapons ready for the death<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Upon the least alarm.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘Why come so late,’ said Powhatan,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘Our festive rites to share?<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘And what brave captive hast thou brought<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘Amid thy warriors there?’<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<h3>XII.</h3> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">‘True, I am late,’ Pamunky said,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘But my lateness to atone,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘I bring you here a captive bound,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘The mighty chief, Sir John.’<br /></span> -<span class="i0">A moment, struck with deep surprise,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Each warrior held his breath,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And a stillness reign’d through all the crowd,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Like that in the halls of death.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_92" id="page_92">{92}</a></span><br /></span> -<span class="i0">First Powhatan at the prisoner glanced,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Then at Nemattanow,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Who look’d as though he’d sink to earth<br /></span> -<span class="i0">With wonder, shame, and wo.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And when the first surprise was o’er,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The gathering throngs drew round,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And a mighty swell of triumph rose,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">That shook the very ground.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Warrior and chief, and old and young,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Pour’d their full voices out,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And never did woods give echo back<br /></span> -<span class="i0">To such a ringing shout.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">When silence was again restored<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The old chief waved his hand,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And with imperial look and tone,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">To all gave this command.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘The evening shades begin to fall,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘Let noise and revel cease;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘Our three days’ feasting now requires<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘A night of rest and peace.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘The captive to the inner hall<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘Convey with special care,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘And forty of our bravest men,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘Till morning, guard him there.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘To-morrow let our feast again<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘With double rites be crown’d,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘And a double song of victory<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_93" id="page_93">{93}</a></span><br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘Through all our tribes resound;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘Then solemn council shall decide<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘What fate shall be prepared<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘For this proud chief, that in our realm<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘Our sovereign power has dared.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘And thou, Nemattanow, shalt be—’<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Here turn’d the monarch round,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">But lo! the fierce Nemattanow<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Was nowhere to be found.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">His name was shouted on the air<br /></span> -<span class="i0">A thousand times in vain,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And runners flew this way and that,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">O’er rugged hill and plain;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And hall and lodge were search’d throughout,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And grove and glen explored,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">But all the search till night set in<br /></span> -<span class="i0">No tidings could afford.<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<h3>XIII.</h3> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Again the day is dawning,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">And the revellers are out,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And their whooping and their cheering<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Might be heard for miles about;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And the day is spent in feasting,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">And ’tis joy and music all,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Save where the mighty monarch,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">In his great council-hall,<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_94" id="page_94">{94}</a></span><br /></span> -<span class="i0">In his royal robes is sitting,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">And his war-chiefs round him wait,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">To decide in solemn council<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Their illustrious captive’s fate.<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<h3>XIV.</h3> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Though many honor’d brave Sir John<br /></span> -<span class="i0">For his spirit bold and high,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The solemn council now decide<br /></span> -<span class="i0">That brave Sir John must die;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">For this alone, they deem’d, would serve<br /></span> -<span class="i0">To appease great Okee’s wrath;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And safety to the monarch’s realm<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Required the strange chief’s death.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">So great a foe and terrible<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Their tribes had never known:<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Hence ’twas decreed, that in his fall,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Great Powhatan alone<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Was worthy to inflict the blow<br /></span> -<span class="i0">This mighty chief to slay;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And all demanded that the deed<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Be done without delay.<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<h3>XV.</h3> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">The monarch sitteth on his throne,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">In his dignity array’d;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Mysterious power is in his eye,<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_95" id="page_95">{95}</a></span><br /></span> -<span class="i0">That maketh man afraid;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The women of his court stand up<br /></span> -<span class="i0">With awe behind the throne,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">But his daughters in their beauty sit<br /></span> -<span class="i0">On either hand alone;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">While all around the spacious hall<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Long rows of warriors stand,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">With nodding war-plume on each head,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And each with weapon in his hand;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And scalps and trophies line the walls,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">That fifty wars supplied,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And richest robes and shining belts<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Appear on every side.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And all is placed in fit array<br /></span> -<span class="i0">To take the captive’s eye,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">When he should come within the hall<br /></span> -<span class="i0">To be condemn’d and die—<br /></span> -<span class="i0">For ’twas not meet to take the life<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Of so great and strange a man,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Till he had seen the greatness too<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Of great King Powhatan.<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<h3>XVI.</h3> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Now through the festal crowds abroad<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Heralds aloud make known,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">That soon the great Sir John must die,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Before the monarch’s throne.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_96" id="page_96">{96}</a></span><br /></span> -<span class="i0">Hush’d is the song and ceased the dance,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And darkening throngs draw near,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">In awful silence round the hall,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And bend a listening ear,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">To catch the floating sounds that come,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Perchance the fatal blow,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Perchance the death-song of Sir John,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Or his dying shriek of wo.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">A private door to that great hall<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Is open’d slow and wide,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And a guard of forty men march in<br /></span> -<span class="i0">With looks of lofty pride,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">For in their midst that captive walks<br /></span> -<span class="i0">With tightly pinion’d arm,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Whose very name had power to shake<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The boldest with alarm.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The captive’s step is firm and free,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">His bearing grave and high,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And calm and quiet dignity<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Is beaming from his eye.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">One universal shout arose<br /></span> -<span class="i0">When first Sir John appear’d,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And all the gathering throng without<br /></span> -<span class="i0">In answer loudly cheer’d.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And then the monarch waved his hand,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And all was still again;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And round the hall the prisoner march’d,<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_97" id="page_97">{97}</a></span><br /></span> -<span class="i0">Led by the warrior train;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And thrice they went the circuit round,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">That all might see the face<br /></span> -<span class="i0">That bore such pale and spirit marks<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Of a strange and mighty race.<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<h3>XVII.</h3> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">In the centre of the hall is placed<br /></span> -<span class="i0">A square and massive stone,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And beds of twigs and forest leaves<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Are thickly round it strown;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And there a heavy war-club stands,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">With knots all cover’d o’er;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">It bears the marks of many wars,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Hard, smooth, and stain’d with gore.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">It was the monarch’s favorite club,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">For times of peril kept,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">’Twas near him when upon the throne,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And near him when he slept.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">No other hands had ever dared<br /></span> -<span class="i0">That ponderous club to wield,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And never could a foe escape<br /></span> -<span class="i0">When that club swept the field.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Now slowly to this fatal spot<br /></span> -<span class="i0">They lead Sir John with care,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And bind his feet about with withes,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And lay him prostrate there;<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_98" id="page_98">{98}</a></span><br /></span> -<span class="i0">And look and listen eagerly<br /></span> -<span class="i0">For him to groan or weep;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">But he lays his head down tranquilly,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">As a child that goes to sleep.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The monarch with a stately step<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Descendeth from the throne,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And all give back before the light,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">From his fiery eye that shone.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">He raiseth that huge war-club high;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The warriors hold their breath,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And look to see that mighty arm<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Hurl down the blow of death—<br /></span> -<span class="i0">A sudden shriek bursts through the air,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">A wild and piercing cry,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And swift as light a form is seen<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Across the hall to fly.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The startled monarch stays his hand,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">For now, beneath his blow,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">He sees his lovely Metoka<br /></span> -<span class="i0">By the captive kneeling low.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Her gentle arm is round his head,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Her tearful eyes upturn’d,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And there the pure and hallow’d light<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Of angel mercy burn’d.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Compassion lit its gentle fires{<a name="NT_22" id="NT_22"></a><a href="#note_22">22</a>}<br /></span> -<span class="i0">In the breast of Powhatan;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The warrior to the father yields,<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_99" id="page_99">{99}</a></span><br /></span> -<span class="i0">The monarch to the man.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Slowly his war-club sinks to earth,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And slowly from his eye<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Recedes the fierce, vindictive fire,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">That burn’d before so high.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">His nerves relax—he looks around<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Upon his warrior men—<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Perchance their unsubdued revenge<br /></span> -<span class="i0">His soul might fire again—<br /></span> -<span class="i0">But no; the soft contagion spreads,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And all have felt its power,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And hearts are touch’d and passions hush’d,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">For mercy ruled the hour.<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<h3>XVIII.</h3> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">The monarch gently raised his child,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And brush’d her tears away;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And call’d Pamunky to his side,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And bade without delay<br /></span> -<span class="i0">To free the captive from his bonds,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And show him honors due,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And lead him to the festive hall<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Their banquet to renew.<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<h3>XIX.</h3> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">The day is past, and past the night,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And now again the morning light,<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_100" id="page_100">{100}</a></span><br /></span> -<span class="i0">With golden pinions all unfurl’d,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Comes forth to wake a sleeping world;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And brave Sir John, with footsteps free,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And a trusty guard of warriors three,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Through the deep woods is on his way<br /></span> -<span class="i0">To greet his friends at Paspahey.<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<p class="fint">END OF CANTO FOURTH.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page_101" id="page_101">{101}</a></span></p> - -<h2><a name="CANTO_FIFTH" id="CANTO_FIFTH"></a>CANTO FIFTH.</h2> - -<h3>I.</h3> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">December’s</span> sun is pale and low,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Chilly and raw the north winds blow,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Dark threatening clouds are floating by,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And Jamestown’s sons with sadden’d eye<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Look out upon the dreary wild<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Of woods and waters, where exiled,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And distant far from friends and home,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">They see the storms of winter come.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">One half their number they had lost,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Since on this wild and desert coast<br /></span> -<span class="i0">They first set foot; and ere the spring<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Fresh fruits and flowers again would bring,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">They felt that others too must fall:<br /></span> -<span class="i0">For though their number was but small,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Their store of food was smaller still;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And oft this thought a deadly chill<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Sent to each heart: they saw the hour<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Was coming soon, when famine’s power<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_102" id="page_102">{102}</a></span><br /></span> -<span class="i0">Must sweep them off, as leaves are cast<br /></span> -<span class="i0">On the cold earth by autumn’s blast.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">But mid this gloom and prospect dread,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">That o’er all hearts a sadness shed,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">No matter by what foe assail’d,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Sir John’s brave spirit never quail’d.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Early and late he knew no rest;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">He nursed the sick, sooth’d the distress’d,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Cheer’d the despairing, and anon,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">With gun in hand, away has gone<br /></span> -<span class="i0">To seek the wild duck on the wave,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Or game within the darksome wood,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The famish’d colonists to save,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And spread their common board with food.<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<h3>II.</h3> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">One morning early, while the gray<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And sleeping mist on the river lay,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Ere yet the sun from his ocean bed<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Had tinged the distant hills with red,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">In quest of game Sir John had gone<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Far down the river vale alone;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And standing on a gentle height<br /></span> -<span class="i0">He view’d the silver winding James—<br /></span> -<span class="i0">What vision glances on his sight?<br /></span> -<span class="i0">What sudden fire his cheek inflames?<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Is that a sail? Is that a ship,<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_103" id="page_103">{103}</a></span><br /></span> -<span class="i0">Glides slowly round the headland dim?<br /></span> -<span class="i0">With straining eye and parted lip,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">He breathless stands, with moveless limb,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And throws his eager look afar,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Like the quick shooting of a star.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">A sail? a ship? He looks again—<br /></span> -<span class="i0">It is, it is—he sees it plain;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">He sees the sails, he sees the hull,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">An English flag at mast-head flies:<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And now his throbbing heart is full,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And tears are crowding to his eyes;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Those eyes which had not known a tear,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Before this hour, for many a year.<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<h3>III.</h3> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">With a light heart, and step as light,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">He soon retraced his homeward route,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And there the ship was full in sight,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And all the colonists were out<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And gazing off upon the river.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">With pious thankfulness some lift<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Their eyes and hands to the great Giver<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Of every good and perfect gift;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Some, wild with joy, run here and there,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Grasping each other’s eager hand;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Some with quick motion beat the air,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And some like moveless statues stand.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_104" id="page_104">{104}</a></span><br /></span> -<span class="i0">Slowly the ship comes sailing on,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And now she rides abreast the town;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The sailors up the shrouds have gone,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The ponderous anchor plunges down,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And curbs her gently to the breeze,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Like a proud steed that feels the bit;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And now she heads the rippling seas,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And her furling sails on the long yards flit.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">A light boat launches from the shore,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Each oarsman nimbly plies his oar<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Across the waters, bright and clear.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The tall ship rapidly they near,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And soon, half lost to view, they glide<br /></span> -<span class="i0">To the deep shadow of her side,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Where the rocking boat seems but a speck;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Man after man mounts to the deck,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And here Sir John with joyous smile<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Greets Newport from Britannia’s isle.<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<h3>IV.</h3> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">A thousand questions now are ask’d,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And a thousand answers given;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Sir John tells how with savages,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And famine, he has striven;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">How in his light and open barge,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">With scarce a dozen men,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">He had scour’d the mighty Chesapeake,<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_105" id="page_105">{105}</a></span><br /></span> -<span class="i0">Round all her shores had been,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And up the rivers from the bay<br /></span> -<span class="i0">To where the waters fall,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And seen the wild and warlike tribes,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And dared the power of all.<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<h3>V.</h3> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Then Captain Newport told what joy<br /></span> -<span class="i0">King James’s heart had known,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">That such a goodly land as this<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Was added to his throne;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And that to make the savage tribes<br /></span> -<span class="i0">With English power content,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">To their great chieftain, Powhatan,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">King James by him had sent<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Rich, royal presents, such as kings<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Of power and dignity<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Might to a royal brother make;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Gold rings, rich cutlery,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">A robe of state of finest woof<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And of a scarlet red,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And a sparkling crown thick-set with gems,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Fit for a monarch’s head.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And as the kings had worn no crowns<br /></span> -<span class="i0">As yet in this new land,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">It was King James’s special will,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And thus he gave command,<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_106" id="page_106">{106}</a></span><br /></span> -<span class="i0">That Captain Newport and Sir John<br /></span> -<span class="i0">This kingly crown should see<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Placed on the head of Powhatan<br /></span> -<span class="i0">With due solemnity.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Now on the shore in merry bands<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Light-hearted sailors roam,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And listening ears of colonists<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Are fill’d with news from home.<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<h3>VI.</h3> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">The council-hall of Powhatan<br /></span> -<span class="i0">In quietness was closed;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And in his warmer winter lodge<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The aged chief reposed:<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And when the piercing northwest wind<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The crevices came through,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">He closer drew his robe of fur,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And fed his fire anew.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And when upon his cabin wall<br /></span> -<span class="i0">His glowing fire grew bright,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And brighter still, betokening<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The coming on of night,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The monarch took his usual round<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Through hall and lodge and yard,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">To see that all was well secured,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And set his nightly guard.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">First to the east and then the west<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_107" id="page_107">{107}</a></span><br /></span> -<span class="i0">He glanced his restless eye,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The trees were rocking in the wind,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Dark clouds were in the sky,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And well the experienced monarch saw<br /></span> -<span class="i0">In their motion and their form,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And heard along the groaning hills,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The spirit of the storm.<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<h3>VII.</h3> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">And as he look’d, and as he turn’d,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">He saw a pale-face man—<br /></span> -<span class="i0">How quick the leaping blood went through<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The veins of Powhatan!<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Changed in an instant was his form,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">From a feeble man and old,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Slow moving in his furry robe,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">To a warrior stout and bold.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">His outer cloak was dash’d aside,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And left his shoulders bare;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">No more he heard the whistling wind<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Or felt the biting air;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">His buskin’d feet were planted firm,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">His heavy club swung light,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And had a thousand foes been there,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">He was ready for the fight.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">That pale-face man came out alone<br /></span> -<span class="i0">From the moaning woods’ deep shade,<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_108" id="page_108">{108}</a></span><br /></span> -<span class="i0">And still alone approach’d the lodge,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Nor hostile sign display’d;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">But with a fearless air came up,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And with a stately stride,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And Powhatan and brave Sir John<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Were standing side by side.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And now within the inner lodge<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Together they retire,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And on the monarch’s furry couch<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Sit by the glowing fire.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">No word or look from Powhatan<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Betray’d his secret thought,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Nor deign’d he to inquire what cause<br /></span> -<span class="i0">His visiter had brought;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">But sat and look’d him in the face<br /></span> -<span class="i0">His guest’s deep thoughts to scan,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Until Sir John the silence broke,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And thus his speech began.<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<h3>VIII.</h3> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">‘Great werowance, I come to bring<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘A greeting kind and true<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘From great King James beyond the sea,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘Who sends good-will to you.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘He is a king all terrible,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘With ships and wealth and power,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘Sufficient to o’erwhelm your tribes<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_109" id="page_109">{109}</a></span><br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘And slay them in an hour.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘Let Manahocks and Manakins<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘And Powhatans combine,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘They could not stand one day before<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘This mighty king of mine.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘But yet his love to Powhatan<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘Is brotherly and pure;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘And as a token that it will<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘Forever warm endure,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘He sends you rich and royal gifts,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘A robe of scarlet red,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘A sparkling crown thick-set with gems,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘Fit for a monarch’s head,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘And other presents rich and rare,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘As you shall see and know,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘When to be crown’d in solemn form<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘To Jamestown you shall go.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘He sent them in a mighty ship<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘By a captain of the sea,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘Who has commission from our king,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘In company with me,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘To place the crown upon your head,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘A deed to great kings done<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘In all the lands beyond the sea<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘To the rising of the sun.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘And Captain Newport waits to know<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘What day you will be there,<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_110" id="page_110">{110}</a></span><br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘That all things for the solemn rite<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘We duly may prepare.’<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<h3>IX.</h3> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Proudly the monarch raised his head,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And proudly turn’d his eye<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Upon the spoils of many wars,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And scalps that hung on high;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And then his trusty bow and club<br /></span> -<span class="i0">He haughtily survey’d,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And thus with stately air and tone<br /></span> -<span class="i0">His brief reply he made.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘If such rare presents have been sent<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘From your great king to me,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘Remember too, <i>I am a king</i>,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘And all this land you see,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘And all these woods and groves are mine,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘And the mighty rivers too,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘That pour down from the mountain sides<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘And glide these valleys through.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘And thirty tribes with all their chiefs<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘Their homage pay to me,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘And fight my battles when I call—<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘Your captain of the sea<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘Should better know the place he fills:<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘His presents to bestow,<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_111" id="page_111">{111}</a></span><br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘He may, when suits him, come to me;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘<i>To him I shall not go.</i>’<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<h3>X.</h3> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Sir John knew well the monarch’s pride<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And firm unbending will,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And well he knew ’twere vain to seek<br /></span> -<span class="i0">His purpose to fulfil;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">He therefore urged his suit no more,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">But at the chief’s request,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Consented to abide till morn,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And in his lodge to rest.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And soundly slept Sir John that night<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Upon his deer-skin bed,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">With hand upon his broadsword hilt<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And pistol by his head.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And the first red morning ray that came,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Bright gleaming o’er the plain,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Beheld him on the forest route<br /></span> -<span class="i0">To Jamestown’s homes again.<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<h3>XI.</h3> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">A week of winter storms had pass’d,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And brighter days now shone,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And Powhatan no longer sat<br /></span> -<span class="i0">In his winter lodge alone,<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_112" id="page_112">{112}</a></span><br /></span> -<span class="i0">But in his council-hall appear’d<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Among his warriors bold;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And all his chiefs were gather’d there,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">A council-talk to hold.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And long about those royal gifts<br /></span> -<span class="i0">They talk’d with solemn air;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Gifts from a land beyond the sea,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Which only kings might wear;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And many questions had been raised,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And many doubts remain’d,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">What secret charm for good or ill<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Those wondrous gifts contain’d.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">But ere those doubts were half resolved,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">While yet the talk went on,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">One of the outer guard rush’d in,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Exclaiming that Sir John<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And fifty of his pale-face tribe,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">All marching in a file<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Across the woods, with shining arms,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Were now within a mile<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Of the council-hall. An instant fire<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Flash’d from each warrior’s eye,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">But there was no tumultuous rush,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">No shout or battle-cry;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">With knitted brow and silent step<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Each seized his club and bow,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And girded on his scalping-knife;<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_113" id="page_113">{113}</a></span><br /></span> -<span class="i0">And now in one grim row,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">A hundred warriors arm’d for death,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And led by their great king,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Before the council-hall appear,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And wait what fate may bring.<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<h3>XII.</h3> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">And soon the pale-face men came out,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And halted by the wood,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Their bright guns gleaming in their hands,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Facing the hall they stood,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">While brave Sir John, like an armed knight,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">March’d forward and alone,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And his errand and his company<br /></span> -<span class="i0">To Powhatan made known.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">He told him that his men had come<br /></span> -<span class="i0">King James’s gifts to bear,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And that the captain of the sea<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Stood with his warriors there;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And all things were in readiness,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">If it pleased his sovereign will,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The high behest of great King James<br /></span> -<span class="i0">In the crowning to fulfil.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">A sharp glance then the monarch sent<br /></span> -<span class="i0">To the borders of the wood,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And ask’d Sir John to point him out<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Where that sea-captain stood.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_114" id="page_114">{114}</a></span><br /></span> -<span class="i0">And on him long and steadily<br /></span> -<span class="i0">He fix’d his eagle ken,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">To learn if that strange captain look’d<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Like other pale-face men.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">At last the monarch gave consent<br /></span> -<span class="i0">For the gifts to be convey’d<br /></span> -<span class="i0">To the council-hall: but only four<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Of the armed men should aid<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The captain and Sir John; the rest<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Should strictly be compell’d<br /></span> -<span class="i0">To stay beside the distant wood,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">While the royal rite was held.<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<h3>XIII.</h3> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">And now within the council-hall,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And by the monarch’s throne,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Around in rich profusion spread,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The royal presents shone.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">There stood Sir John with four arm’d men,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And the captain of the sea,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">But the monarch’s warriors in the hall<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Were a hundred men and three.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The queens of twenty tribes appear,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And in their midst they bring<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Two maidens bright to grace the scene,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The daughters of the king.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And there in his great dignity<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_115" id="page_115">{115}</a></span><br /></span> -<span class="i0">Sat Powhatan alone,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">In the broad circle that was made<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Around the monarch’s throne;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And while his people peer’d and press’d<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Those splendid gifts to see,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">He never moved his princely eyes,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">But kept his dignity.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And when Sir John the signal gave<br /></span> -<span class="i0">For the monarch to come down,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And, standing by the throne, receive<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The robe of state and crown,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">With motion slow and lofty air<br /></span> -<span class="i0">He stepp’d upon the floor,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And as he pass’d, with careless eye<br /></span> -<span class="i0">He glanced the presents o’er.<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<h3>XIV.</h3> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Then took Sir John the robe of state<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And gave it to the king;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And now with look of majesty<br /></span> -<span class="i0">He eyed the curious thing;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And felt it o’er and o’er again—<br /></span> -<span class="i0">As soft and fine it seems<br /></span> -<span class="i0">As any beaver’s fur that lives<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Beside his woodland streams.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And much the color fills his eye;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">A shade so pure and bright,<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_116" id="page_116">{116}</a></span><br /></span> -<span class="i0">In any work of art before,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Had never met his sight.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And now the captain and Sir John<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The robe of state unfold,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">With outstretch’d arms and lifted hands<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Aloft the fabric hold;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And while the monarch’s noble form<br /></span> -<span class="i0">They wrap the vesture round,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Its many broad and shining folds<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Sweep gracefully the ground.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Stately the monarch walks the hall<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And turns from side to side,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And all his men and warriors stand<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And look with awe and pride.<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<h3>XV.</h3> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Then Newport lifted up the crown,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">With sparkling gems that shone,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And told the monarch to kneel down<br /></span> -<span class="i0">With hand upon the throne;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">For this mysterious, sacred thing<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Was a type of sovereignty,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And all great kings that had been crown’d,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Were crown’d on bended knee.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">A strange look then the monarch gave<br /></span> -<span class="i0">To the captain of the sea,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">As though he comprehended not<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_117" id="page_117">{117}</a></span><br /></span> -<span class="i0">This type of sovereignty;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And Newport long confronted him<br /></span> -<span class="i0">With arguments profound,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">To make him understand that kings<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Must kneel when they are crown’d.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">But still the monarch could not see<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The force of what he said,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And to his labor’d argument<br /></span> -<span class="i0">He gravely shook his head.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">His iron knee had never learn’d<br /></span> -<span class="i0">To any power to bow,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And ’twas not all the kings on earth<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Could make him bend it now.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">But glancing round upon his men,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Unbending still he stood,{<a name="NT_23" id="NT_23"></a><a href="#note_23">23</a>}<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Upright in native dignity,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Like an old oak of the wood.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">This trouble vex’d exceedingly<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The captain of the sea,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Who tried by every art to gain<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Some slight bend of the knee,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">That he on his return might tell<br /></span> -<span class="i0">King James, and tell him true,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">That Powhatan unto the crown<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Had paid the homage due.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">But all in vain; the more he strove,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The firmer stood the king:<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_118" id="page_118">{118}</a></span><br /></span> -<span class="i0">Example or persuasive skill<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Could no compliance bring,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Till on his shoulders both his hands<br /></span> -<span class="i0">With gentle force he laid,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And pressing forward, thought he saw<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The monarch bend his head.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘It is enough,’ the captain said;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘To bow the head, or knee,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘With equal honor vindicates<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘The type of sovereignty:’<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And then upon that lofty brow<br /></span> -<span class="i0">He placed the glittering thing,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And in King James’s stead pronounced<br /></span> -<span class="i0">A blessing on the king.<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<p class="fint">END OF CANTO FIFTH. -<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_119" id="page_119">{119}</a></span> -</p> - -<h2><a name="CANTO_SIXTH" id="CANTO_SIXTH"></a>CANTO SIXTH.</h2> - -<h3>I.</h3> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">The</span> warm spring came, and the opening flower<br /></span> -<span class="i0">On the sloping hill was seen;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And summer breathed on the waking woods,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And dress’d them in their green;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The wild-bird in the branches sung,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The wild-deer fed below;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Far up the river side appear’d<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The hunter with his bow;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And on the fresh and sunny field,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Hard toiling through the day,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The weary colonist was out<br /></span> -<span class="i0">By the groves of Paspahey.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Ship after ship came o’er the sea,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Laden with fresh supplies,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And men by hundreds came to join<br /></span> -<span class="i0">This new world’s enterprise;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And up and down the noble James<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Were settlements begun,<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_120" id="page_120">{120}</a></span><br /></span> -<span class="i0">And many an opening in the woods<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Look’d out upon the sun.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The busy tradesman ope’d his store<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Of goods and wares for sale,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And blithely by the barnyard sang<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The milkmaid with her pail;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The stout mechanic in his shop<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Whistled the hours away,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And sturdily his labor plied<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Through the long summer day.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">With boding and uneasy mind<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The thoughtful Indian view’d<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The fatal signs of English power<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Spread o’er his solitude;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And oft he brooded many a scheme,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And much he long’d to see<br /></span> -<span class="i0">A withering blight or death-blow given<br /></span> -<span class="i0">To this wide-spreading tree.<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<h3>II.</h3> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">At evening sat King Powhatan<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Beside his daughter fair,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">To watch the far-off lightning’s flash,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And breathe the cooling air:<br /></span> -<span class="i0">’ -Twas by the door of his summer lodge;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">His guards stood round in sight,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The moon between the flying clouds<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_121" id="page_121">{121}</a></span><br /></span> -<span class="i0">Sent down a paly light,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">When Opechancanough arrived,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">With an air of kingly pride,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And greeting great King Powhatan,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Sat thoughtful by his side.<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<h3>III.</h3> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">‘What tidings, Opechancanough?’<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Said the monarch to his guest;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘Has the tree of these pale-faces spread<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘So wide thou canst not rest?<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘And hast thou come in sadness now<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘To tell thy thoughts to me,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘And to pray the spirit of yonder fires<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘To blast the pale-face tree?’<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<h3>IV.</h3> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Then spoke Pamunky’s king, and said,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">With half triumphant mein,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘True, strongly grows the pale-face tree,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘Its boughs are fresh and green;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘But I have found a secret fire,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘That will at my bidding go,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘And, creeping through the pale-face tree,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘Lay its tall branches low.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘My priest a subtle poison keeps,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘From deadly weeds distill’d;<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_122" id="page_122">{122}</a></span><br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘A single drop, where the red-deer feeds,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘A red-deer oft has kill’d.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘Rich venison and wild fowls, imbued<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘With this dark drug, have gone<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘To feed the famish’d pale-face foe,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘A present to Sir John.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘And ere to-morrow’s noonday hour<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘They’ll droop, and fade, and die,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘And strew the ground, like autumn leaves<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘When the storm-god passes by.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘The breeze all day across the land<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘Shall bear their dying groans,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘And the river-god shall many a year<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘Behold their whitening bones.’<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<h3>V.</h3> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">He paused and look’d at Powhatan<br /></span> -<span class="i0">For some approving word;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">But a bitter sigh from Metoka<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Was the only sound he heard.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘If it is done, then be it so,’<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The monarch said, at last;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘Though rather would I see them fall<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘By the spirit’s lightning blast;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘Or that our arms in open fight<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘Might hurl the deadly blow,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘And show them Powhatan has power<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_123" id="page_123">{123}</a></span><br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘To conquer any foe.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘But if the deed is done, ’tis well—<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘The agent or the hour<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘We will not question, if it serve<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘To crush their growing power.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘Come, let us to the lodge retire;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘Thou’lt rest with us to-night:<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘The clouds rise dark; the lightning fires<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘Flash with a fiercer light.’<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Now sitting in the lodge, they talk<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Of their mighty pale-face foe:<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Pamunky broods with secret joy<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Upon the impending blow;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">But Powhatan walks up and down<br /></span> -<span class="i0">With sadness in his eye;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">For though it was his settled will<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The pale-face foe should die,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Yet still he feels ’ -twould better suit<br /></span> -<span class="i0">His prowess and his pride,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">If warriors’ arms in the battle-field<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The deadly strife had tried.<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<h3>VI.</h3> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">And now all silent in the lodge,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The chiefs are both at rest;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">But, oh! what wild and harrowing thoughts<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Fair Metoka oppress’d.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_124" id="page_124">{124}</a></span><br /></span> -<span class="i0">She loved her sire, she loved his land:<br /></span> -<span class="i0">She loved them as her life—<br /></span> -<span class="i0">What feeling in her heart is now<br /></span> -<span class="i0">With that pure love at strife?<br /></span> -<span class="i0">’ -Tis pity, pleading for the lives<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Of those who soon must fall—<br /></span> -<span class="i0">It pleadeth with an angel’s voice,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And loud as a trumpet-call.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Mayhap another feeling too<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Its secret influence wrought<br /></span> -<span class="i0">In her pure heart; but if ’ -twere so,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">She understood it not—<br /></span> -<span class="i0">But true it was, that since Sir John<br /></span> -<span class="i0">First pass’d before her sight,<br /></span> -<span class="i0"><i>Something</i> was twining round her heart;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">She felt it day and night.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Her heart is sad, her bosom bleeds<br /></span> -<span class="i0">For the cruel fate of those,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">In whom she knows no crime or fault,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Nor can she deem them foes.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Alone and restless she looks out<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Upon the fearful night;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The warring elements are there,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The lightning fires gleam bright;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">She hears the muttering thunders growl<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Along the distant hills,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And many a pause the thunders make<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_125" id="page_125">{125}</a></span><br /></span> -<span class="i0">The wolves’ wild howling fills.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The awful clouds roll high and dark,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The winds have a roaring, sound,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The branches from stout trees are torn<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And hurl’d upon the ground;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And now the rain in torrents falls—<br /></span> -<span class="i0">How her feeble limbs do shake!<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Such gloom without, such grief within,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Her young heart sure must break.<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<h3>VII.</h3> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">But Jamestown’s death-devoted sons<br /></span> -<span class="i0">In conscious safety rest;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The natives, months before, had ceased<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The pale-face to molest;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Pamunky’s rich and generous gift<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Their confidence increased,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And on the morrow all would share<br /></span> -<span class="i0">In joyfulness their feast.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">’ -Tis now the darkest midnight hour,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">But yet Sir John sleeps not—<br /></span> -<span class="i0">He listeth to the storm without;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The rain beats down like shot<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Against the wall and on the roof;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The wind is strong and high,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And bellowing thunders burst and roll<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Athwart the troubled sky.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_126" id="page_126">{126}</a></span><br /></span> -<span class="i0">A moment’s pause—what sound is that?<br /></span> -<span class="i0">A light tap at the door—<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Can mortal be abroad to-night?<br /></span> -<span class="i0">That feeble tap once more—<br /></span> -<span class="i0">He opes the door; his dim light falls<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Upon a slender form—<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The monarch’s daughter standeth there,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Like a spirit of the storm!<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Through dark wild woods, in that fearful night,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">She had peril’d life and limb,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And suffer’d all but death to bring<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Safety and life to him.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And now, her object gain’d, she turns<br /></span> -<span class="i0">In haste her home to seek—<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Sir John such strong emotion feels,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">At first he scarce can speak:<br /></span> -<span class="i0">But soon he urged her, while the storm<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Was raging, to remain;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">But she with earnestness replied,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘I must not heed the rain.’<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘But the night is dark, the way is rough,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘Till morning you must stay—’<br /></span> -<span class="i0">With tears she said, ‘I <i>must</i> return<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘Before the break of day.’<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘Then I will go with a file of men<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘To guard you on your way—’<br /></span> -<span class="i0">But still her eyes with tears were fill’d,<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_127" id="page_127">{127}</a></span><br /></span> -<span class="i0">And still she answer’d nay—<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘Through woods and rain to my father’s lodge<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘I must return alone,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘And never must my father know<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘The errand I have done.’<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And away she flew from the cottage door,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">To the forest wild again:<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Sir John upon the darkness look’d,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And listen’d to the rain;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And still he look’d where the pathway lay<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Across the distant field,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Until the lightning’s sudden flash<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Her flying form reveal’d;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And still with sad and anxious thought<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And moveless eyes he stood,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Till he saw her by another flash<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Enter the midnight wood.{<a name="NT_24" id="NT_24"></a><a href="#note_24">24</a>}<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<h3>VIII.</h3> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Day came and went—another pass’d—<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And now a week has gone—<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The dark-brow’d chiefs are puzzled much,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">That the pale-face men live on.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Early and late had Powhatan<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Been out on the calm hill-side,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">But on the air no death-wail came<br /></span> -<span class="i0">At morn or eventide:<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_128" id="page_128">{128}</a></span><br /></span> -<span class="i0">And when his spies, returning home<br /></span> -<span class="i0">From Jamestown day by day,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Told him the pale-face tree was green,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Nor blight upon it lay,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The doubting monarch shook his head,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And on his daughter cast<br /></span> -<span class="i0">A look more chilling to her heart<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Than winter’s dreary blast.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">But not a word the monarch spoke;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">His thought he never told;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Though she could often in his eye<br /></span> -<span class="i0">That dreadful glance behold.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And though in all his troubled hours<br /></span> -<span class="i0">To give him peace she strove,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And though she tried all tender ways<br /></span> -<span class="i0">To touch his heart with love;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And though sometimes he smiled on her,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">As once he used to smile,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Yet in his eye that cheerless look<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Was lurking all the while;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And Metoka for many a day<br /></span> -<span class="i0">His lost love did deplore,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And felt that her sweet peace of mind<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Was gone forevermore.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Lonely and sad one day she sat<br /></span> -<span class="i0">In her bower beside the spring,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">When coming from the woods she saw<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_129" id="page_129">{129}</a></span><br /></span> -<span class="i0">Approach Pamunky’s king.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">He was her uncle, and though rough<br /></span> -<span class="i0">To others he might prove,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">To Metoka he nought had shown<br /></span> -<span class="i0">But tenderness and love.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Then with a sad confiding look<br /></span> -<span class="i0">She towards Pamunky ran,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Who told her he had come to bring<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Great news to Powhatan;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And straightway to the council-hall<br /></span> -<span class="i0">He led her by the hand,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Where chiefs and warriors eagerly<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Around the monarch stand,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">In deep debate, devising means<br /></span> -<span class="i0">To crush the pale-face race;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">But all, when came Pamunky’s king,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Stood back to give him place.<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<h3>IX.</h3> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">‘Your deep debate,’ Pamunky said,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘Ye may no longer hold,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘Nor longer fear our pale-face foe;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘His days at last are told.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘Their mighty werowance, Sir John,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘Who exercised such skill,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘That all the poison of our land<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘Could not his people kill,<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_130" id="page_130">{130}</a></span><br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘His death-wound has received at last—<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘From their strange fire it came;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘That fire which thunders in their hands,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘And burns with a lightning flame—<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘That fire they brought across the sea,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘To hunt us from the earth,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘Has turn’d on them its serpent fang,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘And stung them to the death.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘I saw Sir John with his bleeding wounds,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘And his muffled face and head,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘Creep slowly to their tall ship’s deck,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘Like one that was near dead.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘And away that ship is sailing now<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘Across the ocean wave,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘To carry Sir John to his English isle<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘To rest in his English grave.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘And now this land is ours again;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘The rest of the pale-face crew<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘We’ll brush away from our forest home,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘As we brush the drops of dew.’{<a name="NT_25" id="NT_25"></a><a href="#note_25">25</a>}<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Great joy then felt King Powhatan,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Great joy felt all his men,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And wild and loud were the shouts that made<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Their forests ring again.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">No more in long suspense and fear<br /></span> -<span class="i0">They lay like a strong man bound,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">But light and free, the feast and song<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_131" id="page_131">{131}</a></span><br /></span> -<span class="i0">Through all the tribes went round;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And every hunter freely breathed<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Along by the winding shore,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And warriors trod their native woods<br /></span> -<span class="i0">In conscious pride once more.<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<h3>X.</h3> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">But where’s the straggling colonist,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Who came not home last night?<br /></span> -<span class="i0">His friends are out in search of him<br /></span> -<span class="i0">By the earliest morning light.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">At last away in a lonely spot,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">His bleeding corpse is found;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">His scalp is off, and his gory head<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Lies weltering on the ground.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">His wife in yonder graveyard sleeps:<br /></span> -<span class="i0">She long before had died;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">They feel it were a pious act<br /></span> -<span class="i0">To place him by her side;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And slow they bear the corse along<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Where the homeward pathway leads,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">But a deadly arrow cleaves the air,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And another victim bleeds.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">They see no foe, they hear no sound,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">But they know that death is nigh;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">They fly, and leave the death-stricken one<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Alone with the dead to die.<br /></span> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_132" id="page_132">{132}</a></span></div></div> -</div> - -<h3>XI.</h3> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Now deep the sorrow, pale the fear,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">That fell on Jamestown’s sons;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">New forts are built, their swords new sharp’d,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And loaded are their guns;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And all their homes are picketed,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And all their doors are barr’d,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And fifty men with loaded arms<br /></span> -<span class="i0">By day and night keep guard.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And now they sadly wish Sir John<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Were there again to throw<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The terror of his valiant arm<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Around their savage foe.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">But where they could, and where they must,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">They still their labor plied,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And in the field the farmer toil’d<br /></span> -<span class="i0">With musket by his side.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Oh, these were sad and fearful days;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Death lurk’d in every sound;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And English blood was often spilt<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Like water on the ground;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And eagerly revenge and fear<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Watch’d every dark wood-side,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And the sound of many a musket shot<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Told where an Indian died.<br /></span> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_133" id="page_133">{133}</a></span></div></div> -</div> - -<h3>XII.</h3> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Where rests the monarch’s daughter now?<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Can she such scenes abide?<br /></span> -<span class="i0">She’s gone a far and weary way,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">To bright Potomac’s side.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The coldness of her father’s eye<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Has made her eye grow dim—<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Sir John has gone beyond the sea,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And her heart is gone with him;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And the sound of war, and the sight of blood,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">That stain’d her native wild,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Have thrown a gloom on the weary life<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Of the fair and gentle child.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">She could not rest in her father’s lodge,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Nor bide in her summer bower,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">But wander’d alone about the woods,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And droop’d like a fading flower.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The monarch watch’d her changing hue<br /></span> -<span class="i0">In sunshine and in shade,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And the father’s heart within him yearn’d<br /></span> -<span class="i0">When he saw her beauty fade.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">For fifteen years her joyous heart,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And smiling cheek and eye,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Had been the light of the old man’s life,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And he could not see her die.<br /></span> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_134" id="page_134">{134}</a></span></div></div> -</div> - -<h3>XIII.</h3> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">He call’d her to his side, and said,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">With kind and gentle tone,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘Why does my daughter weep all day,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘And wander thus alone?<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘These days are evil days, my child,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘But long they will not last;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘I would thou hadst a safe retreat<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘Till the raging storm be past.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘Potomac’s skies are bright and blue,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘Potomac’s groves are green,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘And brightly roll Potomac’s waves<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘Her lovely banks between;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘And gladly would King Japazaws<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘All friendly rites extend<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘To the daughter of King Powhatan,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘His sovereign and his friend.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘Then go, my child, and rest awhile<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘On fair Potomac’s side;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘There will thy days glide gently on,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘As the peaceful waters glide;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘And there young health will come again<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘And kiss thy fading cheek,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘And in thy cheerful voice once more<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘Thy mother’s soul will speak.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘No sound of war will there disturb<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘Thy silent rest at night,<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_135" id="page_135">{135}</a></span><br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘Nor wilt thou wake to the sight of blood<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘When comes the morning light.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘And when from our dark-shadow’d land<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘The clouds shall all pass o’er,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘And all these strange and dreadful foes<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘Are driven from our shore,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘Thou’lt come again, all life and love,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘In thy father’s lodge to rest,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘And the closing days of Powhatan<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘Will yet be bright and blest.’<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Thus spoke the monarch, and away<br /></span> -<span class="i0">His gentle child has gone,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">A weary way through pathless woods,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Like a lost and lonely fawn;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And now, a sweet transplanted flower,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">She breathes the balmy air<br /></span> -<span class="i0">On fair Potomac’s sunny banks,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And sheds her fragrance there.<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<p class="fint">END OF CANTO SIXTH.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page_137" id="page_137">{137}</a></span><span class="pagenum"><a name="page_136" id="page_136">{136}</a></span></p> - -<h2><a name="CANTO_SEVENTH" id="CANTO_SEVENTH"></a>CANTO SEVENTH.</h2> - -<h3>I.</h3> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Still</span> far along the winding James<br /></span> -<span class="i0">War’s muttering thunders ran,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And dark and gloomy clouds hung round<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The hills of Powhatan;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And, as the storm more threatening seem’d,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The savage fiercer grew,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And thick around the settlements<br /></span> -<span class="i0">His hurtling arrows flew.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">As Powhatan in council sat<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Among his warriors brave,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And for the coming night’s campaign<br /></span> -<span class="i0">His bloody orders gave,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Old Japazaws, who came not there<br /></span> -<span class="i0">For many months before,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">With hurrying step and haggard look<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Came tottering to the door.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Each voice was hush’d, and every eye<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Look’d anxiously about,<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_138" id="page_138">{138}</a></span><br /></span> -<span class="i0">For well they knew no light affair<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Had brought the old chief out.<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<h3>II.</h3> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">‘Speak, Japazaws,’ with sadden’d tone,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The anxious monarch said;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘Another cloud of blackness now<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘Is settling o’er my head—<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘Soon as I saw thy steps approach,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘I felt it in the air,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘I felt it in my aching heart,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘I felt it every where.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘I see it now in thy speaking eye,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘So sorrowful and wild—<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘Speak out thy thoughts, and tell what blight<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘Has come upon my child.’<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<h3>III.</h3> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">‘Oh, sad the tale I have to tell,’<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The trembling chief replied,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘And gladly to have saved thy child,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘Would Japazaws have died.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘Like a beam of light fair Metoka<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘Went dancing through our grove,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘Her voice was like the nightingale,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘Her spirit like the dove,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘And every thing was happier,<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_139" id="page_139">{139}</a></span><br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘On which her brightness shone;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘Such innocence and love were hers,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘We loved her as our own.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘But, oh, the cruel pale-face came,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘In his shallop dark and tall,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘And he seized her on the river bank—<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘We heard her feeble call,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘And ran to rescue, but in vain;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘They bore her from the shore,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘Away, away, and much I fear<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘Thou’lt never see her more.’{<a name="NT_26" id="NT_26"></a><a href="#note_26">26</a>}<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<h3>IV.</h3> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">The aged monarch bow’d his head<br /></span> -<span class="i0">In bitterness of wo;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">In all his long eventful life<br /></span> -<span class="i0">This was the deadliest blow.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">In manhood’s prime he had look’d on<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And seen his kindred die,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Without one muscle quivering,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Without one tear or sigh.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Two generations he had seen<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Swept from his wide domain;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And war, and peace, and lapse of years,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Had battled him in vain;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">But when this last, this brightest hope<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Was torn from him apart,<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_140" id="page_140">{140}</a></span><br /></span> -<span class="i0">It shook the strength of his iron frame,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And pierced him to the heart.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The eyes of his fierce warriors glow’d<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And flash’d with living fire;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And leave to fly and leave to fight<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Is all they now require.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Pamunky rises in his might,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">His voice is loud and high—<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘This instant let us seek the foe,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘And cut him down or die.’<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Like an angry tiger, Nantaquas<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Sends fiery glances round,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And clutching his huge war-club, growls,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And fiercely beats the ground;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And a hundred warriors seize their arms<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And foam like a raging flood;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And a hundred voices cry with thirst<br /></span> -<span class="i0">For a taste of English blood.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">But while they raged with furious heat,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And long’d for the coming fight,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">A swiftly flying messenger<br /></span> -<span class="i0">From the forest came in sight.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">’Twas faithful Rawhunt—six long days<br /></span> -<span class="i0">At Jamestown he had been,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">A captive in the picket fort—<br /></span> -<span class="i0">How came he free again?<br /></span> -<span class="i0">He rushes to the council-hall<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_141" id="page_141">{141}</a></span><br /></span> -<span class="i0">And stands before the king,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And listening warriors bend to hear<br /></span> -<span class="i0">What tidings he may bring.<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<h3>V.</h3> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">‘O, sire,’ the faithful servant said,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘Would that the pale-face foe<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘Had sent his lightning through the heart<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘Of Rawhunt long ago;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘Then had I never lived to see<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘The sorrow and distress<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘Of that sweet child, whose life has been<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘All love and tenderness.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘They led her to the inner fort—<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘I saw her as she pass’d;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘Her head was bent like a dying flower,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘And her tears were falling fast.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘And then their council bade me bear<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘This message to my king,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘And ere the setting sun goes down<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘His answer back to bring.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘The pale-face now, of Powhatan,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘Demands that war shall cease,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘And holds his daughter as a pledge<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘That he will live at peace;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘But if another white man falls,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘Or a drop of blood is shed,<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_142" id="page_142">{142}</a></span><br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘That instant shall the monarch’s child<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘Sleep with the sleeping dead.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘Twelve circling moons a captive bound<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘Must Metoka remain,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘And if good faith be kept till then,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘She shall be free again.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘And more than this, great Powhatan<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘His royal word must give<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘To keep the truce, if he would have<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘His daughter longer live;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘And I must fly with the monarch’s pledge,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘As swift as the eagle flies,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘For if the pledge come not to-night,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘<i>This night his daughter dies</i>.’<br /></span> -<span class="i0">He ceased, and silence fill’d the hall,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Like midnight deep and still;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">All eyes were bent on Powhatan,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Waiting the monarch’s will.<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<h3>VI.</h3> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Then slowly look’d the old chief round;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">In his eye a strange light shone,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And slowly these brief words he spoke<br /></span> -<span class="i0">In a strange and solemn tone.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘The Spirit wills it—we must yield—<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘For vain the power of man<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘To strive against the Spirit’s power:<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_143" id="page_143">{143}</a></span><br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘Gladly would Powhatan,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘Alone, unaided, meet the foe,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘And all his host defy—<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘But the Spirit wills it—we must yield—<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘<i>That daughter must not die.</i>’<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Fair wampum-belts of shining hue<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Were hanging on the wall;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The monarch took from its resting-place<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The richest one of all;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And placing it on Rawhunt’s arm,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">He bade him speed his flight,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And bear it to the pale-face chiefs<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Ere fall the shades of night;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And tell them, ‘Powhatan accepts<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘The proffer they have made:<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘If they are faithful to the truce,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘<span class="lftspc">’</span>Twill be by him obey’d.’<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Swiftly the faithful Rawhunt flew<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Away through the distant wood;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">But the monarch still among his chiefs<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Like a solemn statue stood.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">At last, with sadden’d look and tone,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The chiefs he thus address’d:<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘The old tree cannot always last;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘The monarch needeth rest.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘While twelve fair moons in quietness<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘Shall run their circling round,<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_144" id="page_144">{144}</a></span><br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘No war-whoop will awake the woods,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘No blood will stain the ground.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘Till then, to a solitary lodge<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘Will Powhatan depart,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘And rest his head from weary cares,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘And rest his weary heart.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘Meantime let brave Pamunky’s king<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘Our sovereign sceptre sway,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘And him, instead of Powhatan,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘Let all the tribes obey.’<br /></span> -<span class="i0">He said—and slowly round the hall<br /></span> -<span class="i0">A sober look he cast;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">A lingering, doubting, troubled look,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">As though it were the last;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And taking up his bow and club,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">That lean’d against the wall,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The monarch turn’d with stately step<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And left the silent hall.<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<h3>VII.</h3> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Far up the Chickahominy<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The banks are green and fair,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And through the groves of Orapakes<br /></span> -<span class="i0">There breathes a balmy air;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And there beneath tall shady trees<br /></span> -<span class="i0">A quiet lodge is found;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Bright birds are darting through the boughs<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_145" id="page_145">{145}</a></span><br /></span> -<span class="i0">And hopping on the ground;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Refreshing waters from the hills<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Through groves and valleys glide;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And gentle deer come down to drink<br /></span> -<span class="i0">By the cool river-side;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And there among the stout old trees,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">From toil and conflict free,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The aged monarch moves about,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And muses silently.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">He sighs to think of his distant child<br /></span> -<span class="i0">At night on his bed of fur:<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And if he sleep in the lonely hours,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">’Tis but to dream of her.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And he thinks of her in his sunny walks,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">With the sportive deer about,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And he thinks of her by the bending brook<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Where glides the golden trout.<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<h3>VIII.</h3> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Long time had Opechancanough<br /></span> -<span class="i0">A burning hatred borne<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Against the pale-face, who had caused<br /></span> -<span class="i0">His native land to mourn.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Sir John had led him by the hair,{<a name="NT_27" id="NT_27"></a><a href="#note_27">27</a>}<br /></span> -<span class="i0">With pistol at his breast;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The rankling thought was a raging fire,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">That never let him rest.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_146" id="page_146">{146}</a></span><br /></span> -<span class="i0">And the insult offer’d to his god<br /></span> -<span class="i0">He never could forget,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Till the sun of this whole hated race<br /></span> -<span class="i0">In night and blood should set.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Sage Powhatan knew well the power<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The English arms possess’d,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And made his warriors keep aloof,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And their rash fire repress’d.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">But now Pamunky is the chief,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Whom all the tribes obey,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And vengeance its hot strife for blood<br /></span> -<span class="i0">No longer will delay.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">He boldly goes to the white man’s lodge,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And talks of friendship’s chain,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And tells how strong and bright it is,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And long shall so remain;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And all unarm’d his warriors roam<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The colonists among,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And words of peace and kindness flow<br /></span> -<span class="i0">From every Indian tongue.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">But in his deep and gloomy wilds,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Where white man never came,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">He breathed into his warriors’ hearts<br /></span> -<span class="i0">His bosom’s burning flame.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And round and round, from tribe to tribe,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Through many a summer’s night,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">He whisper’d dark words in their ears<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_147" id="page_147">{147}</a></span><br /></span> -<span class="i0">Beneath the dim starlight:<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And a thousand times those mutter’d words<br /></span> -<span class="i0">In his low breath were said,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And a thousand hearts their secret kept,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">As voiceless as the dead.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">He bade them think of Powhatan,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">An exile sad and lone;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And the pleasant light of that lovely star<br /></span> -<span class="i0">That once among them shone;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">He bade them think of Okee’s wrongs<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Received from the pale-face crew;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And the deadly shade that the pale-face tree<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Far over the land now threw.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The secret fire is kindling well;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">A thousand hearts are strong,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And a thousand eager warriors wait<br /></span> -<span class="i0">To avenge their country’s wrong.<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<h3>IX.</h3> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">The day of blood arrives at last,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">When vengeance shall be hurl’d<br /></span> -<span class="i0">On every pale-face in the land,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And sweep him from the world.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Through the silent night, in the upland groves,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And down by the murky fen,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And deep in the solitary wood,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">There’s a mustering of men<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_148" id="page_148">{148}</a></span>—<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Old Chesapeake sends forth the tribes<br /></span> -<span class="i0">That live along the shore;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Potomac’s warriors, arm’d for death,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Are on the march once more;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Fierce Kecoughtans and Nansamonds<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Creep noiselessly along;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Pamunky’s valiant tribe sends out<br /></span> -<span class="i0">A band five hundred strong;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And a hundred silent winding streams,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">By the twinkling stars’ dim light,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Beheld dark warriors whispering<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Along their banks that night.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Each band knew well its pathless route<br /></span> -<span class="i0">In darkness or in day:<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Each had its several task assign’d,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And panted for its prey.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">They came where the outer settlements<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Were skirted by the wood,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And waiting for the appointed hour,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">In breathless silence stood.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The gray tops of the cottages<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Gleam’d in the misty air;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">They look’d and listen’d eagerly—<br /></span> -<span class="i0">No light, no sound was there.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">No watchful guards with loaded arms<br /></span> -<span class="i0">In field or fort appear;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">There lay the slumbering colony<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Without defence or fear.<br /></span> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_149" id="page_149">{149}</a></span></div></div> -</div> - -<h3>X.</h3> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">The morning-star is in the sky—<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The signal word is given,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And a hundred blazing torches flash<br /></span> -<span class="i0">In the starry vault of heaven;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And from a hundred blazing homes<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Rings out a piercing cry,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">As the sleeper wakes, and the flames of death<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Glare on his waking eye.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">But a wilder scream, a fiendish yell,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Comes back to his ear again,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">As he rushes out, and a savage blow<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Has crush’d him to the plain.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">When morning came, the sun look’d down<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Where many a cottage stood;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">But he only saw black smouldering heaps,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And fields that smoked with blood.{<a name="NT_28" id="NT_28"></a><a href="#note_28">28</a>}<br /></span> -<span class="i0">In all the outer settlements<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The work of death was o’er,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And full three hundred colonists<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Lay weltering in their gore.<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<h3>XI.</h3> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">But Jamestown show’d another sight<br /></span> -<span class="i0">To that bright morning sun—<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Three hundred hostile men stood there,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">All arm’d with sword and gun,<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_150" id="page_150">{150}</a></span><br /></span> -<span class="i0">And breathing out a stern resolve<br /></span> -<span class="i0">To hunt the savage race,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">With fire and sword and ceaseless war,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Till not a single trace<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Of all the tribes of Powhatan<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Should in the land be seen,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">To cry for blood, or tell the world<br /></span> -<span class="i0">That such a race had been.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">How these were saved from blood and death<br /></span> -<span class="i0">On that red night of wo,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The Indian never knew, and now<br /></span> -<span class="i0">It matters not to know.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Enough, that timely warning came<br /></span> -<span class="i0">For them to up and arm;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">That when the gleam of the Indian torch<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Flash’d out its first alarm,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">A dozen muskets blazed at once,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And torch and bearer fell,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And the foe fled swift when he heard the roar<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Through the echoing forest swell.<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<h3>XII.</h3> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Henceforth the course of war is changed—<br /></span> -<span class="i0">In one devoted band<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The desperate colonists march forth<br /></span> -<span class="i0">In arms to scour the land;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And the flying savage, looking back<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_151" id="page_151">{151}</a></span><br /></span> -<span class="i0">From the hill-top, often sees<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The flames of his burning lodge dart up<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Above the forest trees.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The blood of old and young alike<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Is pour’d upon the plains,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And through the realm of Powhatan<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Wide desolation reigns.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Like hunted deer through grove and glen<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The bleeding victims die,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And villages by the river banks<br /></span> -<span class="i0">In smoking ruins lie.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">At last the broken, flying tribes<br /></span> -<span class="i0">In many a rallying band,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Meet round the home of Powhatan<br /></span> -<span class="i0">For one more desperate stand.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And here an oath each warrior swears,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">To fall—if he must fall—<br /></span> -<span class="i0">With face to the foe, and hand to his bow,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And his back to the council-hall.<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<h3>XIII.</h3> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">The fearful battle soon grows warm<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Between the opposing foes—<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Three hundred muskets in the field<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Against three thousand bows.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And thickly flew with deadly aim<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The Indian arrows then;<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_152" id="page_152">{152}</a></span><br /></span> -<span class="i0">But where one man by an arrow fell,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The musket slaughter’d ten.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Pamunky, wounded, leaves the field,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Stout Nantaquas is slain,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And many a brave and valiant chief<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Lies stretch’d upon the plain;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">But still the battle fiercer grows<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Till near the close of day,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And neither side the victory gains,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And neither side gives way.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And now with sword and bayonet,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Their ammunition gone,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">With firmness toward the faltering foe<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The colonists press on,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And hand to hand, and foot to foot,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Their deadly weapons ply—<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The white man takes the ground at last,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The Indians fall or fly.<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<h3>XIV.</h3> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">That instant, bounding from the wood,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">A furious warrior came;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">His weapon was a huge war-club,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">His eye a living flame—<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And as he rush’d to the battle-field<br /></span> -<span class="i0">He shouted with his might—<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The old woods leapt at the well-known sound,<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_153" id="page_153">{153}</a></span><br /></span> -<span class="i0">As if they felt delight.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">He paused a moment to survey<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The dying and the dead:<br /></span> -<span class="i0">His fallen warriors strew’d the ground;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The living few had fled;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And now before the conquering foe<br /></span> -<span class="i0">There stood but a single man—<br /></span> -<span class="i0">But fierce the conflict yet must rage,<br /></span> -<span class="i0"><i>For he was Powhatan</i>.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The monarch’s back to mortal foe<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Had never yet been given,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And, come what will, he meets it now<br /></span> -<span class="i0">In the face of earth and heaven.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Swinging his knotted war-club high,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">To the thickest ranks he press’d,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Where fifty swords and bayonets<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Were pointed to his breast,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And up and down, this way and that,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">His ponderous weapon threw,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And broken muskets strew’d the ground,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And swords like feathers flew.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">In vain the rallying forces came<br /></span> -<span class="i0">To aid the falling band;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Numbers, nor arms, nor courage could<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The monarch’s rage withstand.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">At last, pale-faces in their turn<br /></span> -<span class="i0">To the sheltering forest fly,<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_154" id="page_154">{154}</a></span><br /></span> -<span class="i0">Nor longer hold the king at bay,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">For, they that linger, die.<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<h3>XV.</h3> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">The aged monarch stood alone,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">By his council-hall again;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The unbending monarch, unsubdued,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">King of his bloody plain.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">But what was that red plain to him?<br /></span> -<span class="i0">His groves? his country? all?<br /></span> -<span class="i0">In his lodge there were no loved ones now,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">No voice in his council-hall.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The old man’s heart was desolate—<br /></span> -<span class="i0">His warriors all were dead;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">He knew the pale-face tree had root,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And far and wide would spread.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And sadly toward the western sky<br /></span> -<span class="i0">He turn’d his weary eyes,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Where mountains blue are dimly seen,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And the land of spirits lies;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And he thought, could he lay his aged bones<br /></span> -<span class="i0">In that peaceful land to rest,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Where the pale-face foe could never come,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The red man to molest;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Where his gather’d tribes might hunt the deer<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Through the forest wilds again,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And plant their corn in peace once more<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_155" id="page_155">{155}</a></span><br /></span> -<span class="i0">Upon the sunny plain;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And where by the shadowy mountain’s brow;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">He in his quiet cot<br /></span> -<span class="i0">His wife and children might behold,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">’Twould be a blessed lot;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And casting one long, painful look<br /></span> -<span class="i0">On his lost land and home,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Ere through the western wilds afar<br /></span> -<span class="i0">A pilgrim he should roam,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">He took his war-club for a staff,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And his footsteps westward turn’d,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And sought for rest in the far-off land,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Where the ruddy sunset burn’d.<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<p class="fint">END OF THE LAST CANTO.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_157" id="page_157">{157}</a></span><span class="pagenum"><a name="page_156" id="page_156">{156}</a></span></p> - -<h2><a name="NOTES" id="NOTES"></a>NOTES.</h2> - -<h3>[<a name="note_1"></a><a href="#NT_1">NOTE 1—CANTO FIRST, SECT. I.</a></h3> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanzaital"> -<span class="i0">Far in their mountain lurking-place<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The Manakins had heard his fame,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And Manahocks dared not come down<br /></span> -<span class="i0">His valleys to pursue their game.<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<p>The Manakins and Manahocs, or Manahoacs, dwelt in the hilly country -above the falls of the great rivers which empty into Chesapeake Bay; -while the dominion of Powhatan extended over the whole of the flat -country below the falls. The Manakins dwelt on the head waters of the -James River, and the Manahocs on the head waters of the Potomac and -Rappahannock. They were subdivided into several nations or tribes, and -formed a sort of league or confederacy of the upland and mountain -Indians against the power and tyranny of Powhatan. The Manakins -consisted of four or five tribes, and the Manahocs of eight, and the -whole, being combined in firm league against the empire of Powhatan, -must have constituted rather a formidable foe.]</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page_158" id="page_158">{158}</a></span></p> - -<h3>[<a name="note_2"></a><a href="#NT_2">NOTE 2—CANTO FIRST, SECT. I.</a>]</h3> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanzaital"> -<span class="i0">And Susquehannah’s giant race.<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<p>This powerful tribe, dwelling along the valley of the Susquehannah, -bearing the name of that noble stream, and commanding its waters even to -the head of Chesapeake Bay, is represented by the early adventurers in -Virginia to have been a race of gigantic stature. The romantic spirit of -Captain Smith, delighting as he did in the marvellous, probably may have -given some coloring to his descriptions in matters of mere opinion, but -where he describes facts that came within his knowledge, his truth and -candor may always be relied upon. He says, “Such great and -well-proportioned men are seldom seen; for they seemed like giants to -the English, yea, and to the neighbors, yet seemed of an honest and -simple disposition, with much ado restrained from adoring us as gods.”</p> - -<p>The following curious account of this tribe is from the grave and -matter-of-fact historian Stith; borrowed however principally from Smith.</p> - -<p>“Their language and attire were very suitable to their stature and -appearance. For their language sounded deep and solemn, and hollow, like -a voice in a vault. Their attire was the skins of bears and wolves, so -cut that the man’s head went through the neck, and the ears of the bear -were fastened on his shoulders, while the nose and teeth hung dangling -down upon his breast. Behind, was another bear’s face split, with a paw -hanging at the nose. And their sleeves coming down to their elbows, were -the necks<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_159" id="page_159">{159}</a></span> of bears, with their arms going through the mouth, and paws -hanging to the nose. One had the head of a wolf, hanging to a chain, for -a jewel; and his tobacco pipe was three-quarters of a yard long, carved -with a bird, a deer, and other devices at the great end, which was -sufficient to beat out a man’s brains. They measured the calf of the -largest man’s leg, and found it three-quarters of a yard about, and all -the rest of his limbs were in proportion; so that he seemed the -stateliest and most goodly personage they had ever beheld. His arrows -were three-quarters long, headed with splinters of a white crystal-like -stone, in the form of a heart, an inch broad, and an inch and a half -long. These he carried at his back, in a wolf’s skin for a quiver, with -his bow in one hand and his club in the other.”</p> - -<h3>[<a name="note_3"></a><a href="#NT_3">NOTE 3—CANTO FIRST, SECT. I.</a>]</h3> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanzaital"> -<span class="i0">And thirty tribes one monarch bless’d.<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<p>“He had under him thirty werowances, or inferior kings, who had power of -life and death, but were bound to govern according to the customs of the -country.”—<i>Stith’s Virginia.</i></p> - -<p> </p> - -<p>All accounts agree that Powhatan had under his dominion thirty tribes, -and some of our chronicles locate them as follows. Ten tribes between -the Potomac and Rappahannock, five between the Rappahannock and York, -eight between the York and James, five between the James River and the -borders of Carolina, and two on the eastern shore of Chesapeake Bay.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_160" id="page_160">{160}</a></span></p> - -<h3>[<a name="note_4"></a><a href="#NT_4">NOTE 4—CANTO FIRST, SECT. III.</a>]</h3> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanzaital"> -<span class="i0">Deep in a sea of waving wood<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The monarch’s rustic lodge was seen,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Where brightly roll’d the river down,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And gently sloped the banks of green.<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<p>Powhatan’s principal place of residence at the time of the arrival of -the English, was on the James River, a little below the spot where -Richmond now stands. He resided, however, a part of the time at -Werowocomoco, on York River, about ten or a dozen miles from Jamestown; -and a part of the time at Orapakes, up the river Chickahominy.</p> - -<h3>[<a name="note_5"></a><a href="#NT_5">NOTE 5—CANTO FIRST, SECT. VIII.</a>]</h3> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanzaital"> -<span class="i0">His plume is a raven wing.<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<p>“Some on their heads wear the wing of a bird, or some large feather with -a rattel. Those rattels are somewhat like the shape of a rapier, but -lesse, which they take from the taile of a snake. Many have the whole -skinne of a hawke or some strange foule, stuffed, with the wings -abroad.”—<i>Smith’s History of Virginia.</i></p> - -<h3>[<a name="note_6"></a><a href="#NT_6">NOTE 6—CANTO FIRST, SECT. XIII.</a>]</h3> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanzaital"> -<span class="i0">And Madoc and his host were withered from the world.<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<p>“The chronicles of Wales report, that Madoc, sonne to Owen Quineth, -Prince of Wales, seeing his two brethren at debate, who should inherit, -prepared certaine ships, with men and munition, and left his country to -seeke adventures<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_161" id="page_161">{161}</a></span> by sea. Leaving Ireland north, he sayled west till he -came to a land unknowne. Returning home and relating what pleasant and -fruitful countries he had seene without inhabitants, and for what barren -land his brethren and kindred did murther one another, he provided a -number of ships, and got with him such men and women as were desirous to -live in quietnesse, that arrived with him in this new land in the year -1170; left many of his people there and returned for more. But where -this place was no history can show.”—<i>Captain John Smith.</i></p> - -<p> </p> - -<p>“On the death of Owen Gwyneth, king of North Wales, A. D. 1169, his -children disputed the succession. Yorwerth, the elder, was set aside -without a struggle, as being incapacitated by a blemish in his face. -Hoel obtained possession of the throne for awhile, till he was defeated -and slain by David, the eldest son of the late king by a second wife. -The conqueror, who then succeeded without opposition, slew Yorwerth, -imprisoned Rodri, and hunted others of his brethren into exile. But -Madoc meantime abandoned his barbarous country, and sailed away to the -west in search of some better resting-place. The land which he -discovered pleased him. He left there part of his people, and went back -to Wales for a fresh supply of adventurers, with whom he again set sail, -and was heard of no more.”—<i>Preface to Southey’s Madoc.</i></p> - -<p> </p> - -<p>“<i>Welsh Indians.</i>—Father Reichard, of Detroit, from whom I received the -facts just stated, informed me at the<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_162" id="page_162">{162}</a></span> same time, that in 1793 he was -told at Fort Chartres, that twelve years before, Capt. Lord commanded -this post, who heard some of the old people observe, that Mandan Indians -visited this post, and could converse intelligibly with some Welsh -soldiers in the British army. This is here given, that any person, who -may have the opportunity, may ascertain whether there is any affinity -between the Mandan and Welsh languages.”—<i>Dr. Morse’s Indian Report.</i></p> - -<h3>[<a name="note_7"></a><a href="#NT_7">NOTE 7—CANTO FIRST, SECT. XIII.</a>]</h3> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanzaital"> -<span class="i0">Unto their pale-face leader show<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The pipe of peace and warlike bow.<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<p>“As they proceeded up the river, another company of Indians appeared in -arms. Their chief, Apamatica, holding in one hand his bow and arrows, -and in the other a pipe of tobacco, demanded the cause of their -coming.”—<i>Smith’s Virginia.</i></p> - -<h3>[<a name="note_8"></a><a href="#NT_8">NOTE 8—CANTO FIRST, SECT. XIV.</a>]</h3> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanzaital"> -<span class="i0">As round his brawny limbs he drew<br /></span> -<span class="i0">His feathery mantle, broad and blue.<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<p>“For their apparell they are sometimes covered with the skins of wild -beasts, which in winter are dressed with the hayre, but in summer -without. The better sort use large mantels of deer skins, not much -differing in fashion from the Irish mantels. Some imbrodered with white -beads, some with copper, other painted after their manner.</p> - -<p>“We have seen some use mantels made of turkey feathers,<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_163" id="page_163">{163}</a></span> so prettily -wrought and woven with threads that nothing could be discerned but the -feathers. That was exceeding warm and very handsome.”—<i>Smith’s History -of Virginia.</i></p> - -<h3>[<a name="note_9"></a><a href="#NT_9">NOTE 9—CANTO SECOND, SECT. I.</a>]</h3> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanzaital"> -<span class="i0">A stout and trusty guard was placed<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Around the lodge, whose hands embraced<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The battle-axe or bended bow,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Ready to meet a coming foe.<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<p>“About his person ordinarily attendeth a guard of forty or fifty of the -tallest men his country doth afford. Every night upon the four quarters -of his house are four sentinels, each from other a light shoot, and at -every half hour one from the <i>corps du guard</i> doth hollow, shaking his -lips with his finger betweene them; unto whom every sentinel doth answer -round from his stand. If any faile, they presently send forth an officer -that beateth him extremely.”—<i>Smith’s Virginia.</i></p> - -<h3>[<a name="note_10"></a><a href="#NT_10">NOTE 10—CANTO SECOND, SECT. VIII.</a>]</h3> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanzaital"> -<span class="i0">Then through that long and mystic reed,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Emblem of many a sacred deed,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Three solemn draughts the monarch drew,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And the smoke in three directions blew.<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<p>“When they smoke, the first puff is upward, intended for the Great -Spirit, as an act of homage to him; the next is to their mother <i>earth</i>, -whence they derive their corn and<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_164" id="page_164">{164}</a></span> other sustenance; the third is -horizontal, expressive of their good-will to their fellow men.”—<i>Dr. -Morse’s Indian Report.</i></p> - -<h3>[<a name="note_11"></a><a href="#NT_11">NOTE 11—CANTO SECOND, SECT. XIII.</a>]</h3> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanzaital"> -<span class="i0">The voice of Powhatan was law.<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<p>“He nor any of his people understand any letters whereby to write or -read; only the laws whereby he ruleth is custome. Yet when he listeth, -his will is a law and must be obeyed. Not only as a king, but as half a -God they esteme him. His inferior kings, whom they call werowances, are -tyed to rule by customes, and have power of life and death at their -command in that nature.</p> - -<p>“They all know their severall lands, and habitations, and limits, to -fish, foule, or hunt in, but they hold all of their great werowance -Powhatan, unto whom they pay tribute of skinnes, beads, copper, pearle, -deere, turkies, wild beasts, and corne. What he commandeth they dare not -disobey in the least thing. It is strange to see with what great fear -and adoration all these people doe obey this Powhatan. For at his feete -they present whatsoever he commandeth, and at the least frown of his -brow their greatest spirits will tremble with fear: and no marvell, for -he is very terrible and tyrannous in punishing such as offend -him.”—<i>Captain John Smith.</i><span class="pagenum"><a name="page_165" id="page_165">{165}</a></span></p> - -<h3>[<a name="note_12"></a><a href="#NT_12">NOTE 12—CANTO THIRD, SECT. III.</a>]</h3> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanzaital"> -<span class="i0">Of all the knights of England,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">That ever in armor shone,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The boldest and the truest heart<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Was that of brave Sir John.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">He had pass’d through perils on the land,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And perils on the sea,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And oftentimes confronted death<br /></span> -<span class="i0">In Gaul and Germany;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And many a Transylvanian<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Could point to the spot and show<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Where the boldest of the Turkish knights<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Were by his hand laid low.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And when confined in dungeons,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Or driven as a slave,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The rescue, that his own arm brought,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Proved well Sir John was brave.<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<p>The following brief biographical sketch of Capt. John Smith is quoted in -Burk’s Virginia, as from “a late American biographer;” [probably -Belknap.]</p> - -<p>“He was born at Willoughby, in Lincolnshire [England] in the year one -thousand five hundred and seventy-nine. From the first dawn of reason he -discovered a roving and romantic genius, and delighted in extravagant -and daring actions among his school-fellows. When about thirteen years -of age, he sold his books and satchel, and his puerile trinkets, to -raise money, with a view to convey himself privately to sea; but the -death of his father put a stop for the present to this attempt, and -threw him into the hands of <span class="pagenum"><a name="page_166" id="page_166">{166}</a></span>guardians, who endeavored to check the -ardor of his genius, by confining him to a compting house. Being put -apprentice to a merchant at Lynn, at the age of fifteen, he at first -conceived hopes that his master would send him to sea in his service; -but this hope failing, he quitted his master, and with only ten -shillings in his pocket, entered into the train of a young nobleman who -was travelling to France.</p> - -<p>“At Orleans he was discharged from his attendance on Lord Bertie, and -had money given to return to England.</p> - -<p>“With this money he visited Paris, and proceeded to the Low Countries, -where he enlisted as a soldier, and learned the rudiments of war, a -science peculiarly agreeable to his ardent and active genius. Meeting -with a Scots gentleman abroad, he was persuaded to pass into Scotland, -with the promise of being strongly recommended to King James. But being -baffled in this expectation, he returned to his native town, and finding -no company there, which suited his taste, he built a booth in the wood, -and betook himself to the study of military history and tactics, -diverting himself at intervals with his horse and lance; in which -exercises he at length found a companion, an Italian gentleman, rider to -the Earl of Lincoln, who drew him from his sylvan retreat to Tattersal.</p> - -<p>“Having recovered a part of the estate which his father had left him, he -put himself into a better condition than before, and set off again on -his travels, in the winter of the year one thousand five hundred and -ninety-six, being then only seventeen years of age. His first stage was -Flanders, where meeting with a Frenchman, who pretended to be heir<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_167" id="page_167">{167}</a></span> to a -noble family, he with his three attendants prevailed upon Smith to go -with them to France. In a dark night they arrived at St. Valory, in -Picardy, and by the connivance of the shipmaster, the Frenchmen were -carried ashore with the trunks of our young traveller, whilst he was -left on board till the return of the boat. In the mean time they had -conveyed the baggage out of his reach, and were not to be found. A -sailor on board, who knew the villains, generously undertook to conduct -him to Mortain, where they lived, and supplied his wants till their -arrival at the place. Here he found their friends, from whom he could -get no recompense, but the report of his sufferings induced several -persons of distinction to invite him to their houses.</p> - -<p>“Eager to pursue his travels, and not caring to receive favors which he -was unable to requite, he left his new friends, and went from port to -port in search of a ship of war. In one of these rambles near Dinan, it -was his chance to meet one of the villains who had robbed him. Without -speaking a word, they both drew; and Smith having wounded and disarmed -his antagonist, obliged him to confess his guilt before a number of -persons, who had assembled on the occasion. Satisfied with his victory, -he retired to the seat of an acquaintance, the Earl of Ployer, who had -been brought up in England; and having received supplies from him, he -travelled along the French coast to Bayonne, and from thence crossed -over to Marseilles; visiting and observing every thing in his way, which -had any reference to military or naval architecture.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_168" id="page_168">{168}</a></span></p> - -<p>“At Marseilles he embarked for Italy, in company with a rabble of -pilgrims. The ship was forced by a tempest into the harbor of Toulon, -and afterwards obliged by a contrary wind to anchor under the little -island of St. Mary, off Nice, in Savoy. The bigotry of the pilgrims made -them ascribe their ill-fortune to the presence of a heretic on board. -They devoutly cursed Smith and his queen, Elizabeth, and in a fit of -pious rage threw him into the sea. He swam to the island, and the next -day was taken on board a ship of St. Malo which had also put in there -for shelter. The master of the ship, who was well known to his noble -friend the Earl of Ployer, entertained him kindly, and carried him to -Alexandria in Egypt; from thence he coasted the Levant, and on his -return had the high satisfaction of an engagement with a Venetian ship, -which they took and rifled of her rich cargo.</p> - -<p>“Smith was set on shore at Antibes, with a box of one thousand chequins, -(about two thousand dollars,) by the help of which he made the tour of -Italy, crossed the Adriatic, and travelled into Stiria, to the seat of -Ferdinand, archduke of Austria. Here he met with an English and Irish -Jesuit, who introduced him to Lord Eberspaught, Baron Kisel, and other -officers of distinction; and here he found full scope for his genius; -for the emperor being then at war with the Turks, he entered into his -army as a volunteer.</p> - -<p>“He communicated to Eberspaught a method of conversing at a distance by -signals made with torches, which being alternately shown and hidden a -certain number of times, designated every letter of the alphabet.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_169" id="page_169">{169}</a></span></p> - -<p>“He had soon after an opportunity of making the experiment. Eberspaught, -being besieged by the Turks in the strong town of Olimpack, was cut off -from all intelligence and hope of succor from his friends. Smith -proposed his method of communication to Baron Kisel, who approved it, -and allowed him to put it in practice. He was conveyed by a guard to a -hill within view of the town, and sufficiently remote from the Turkish -camp. At the display of the signal, Eberspaught knew and answered it; -and Smith conveyed to him this intelligence: ‘Thursday night I will -charge on the east; at the alarm, sally thou.’ The answer was, ‘I will.’</p> - -<p>“Just before the attack, by Smith’s advice, a great number of false -fires were made in another quarter, which divided the attention of the -enemy, and gave advantage to the assailants; who being assisted by a -sally from the town, killed many of the Turks, drove others into the -river, and threw succors into the place, which obliged the enemy next -day to raise the siege. This well-conducted exploit produced to our -young adventurer the command of a company, consisting of two hundred and -fifty horsemen, in the regiment of Count Meldrich, a nobleman of -Transylvania.</p> - -<p>“The regiment in which he served, being engaged in several hazardous -enterprises, Smith was foremost in all dangers, and distinguished -himself by his ingenuity and by his valor: and when Meldrich left the -imperial army and passed into the service of his native prince, Smith -followed him.</p> - -<p>“At the siege of Regal, the Ottomans derided the slow approaches of the -Transylvanian army, and sent a challenge,<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_170" id="page_170">{170}</a></span> purporting that the lord -Turbisha, to divert the ladies, would fight any single captain of the -Christian troops.</p> - -<p>“The honor of accepting this challenge, being determined by lot, fell on -Captain Smith; who meeting his antagonist on horseback, within view of -the ladies on the battlements, at the sound of music began the -encounter, and in a short time killed him, and bore away his head in -triumph to his general, the lord Moyzes.</p> - -<p>“The death of the chief so irritated his friend Crualgo, that he sent a -particular challenge to the conqueror, who, meeting him with the same -ceremonies, after a smart combat, took off his head also.</p> - -<p>“Smith then in his turn sent a message into the town, informing the -ladies, that if they wished for more diversion, they should be welcome -to his head, in case their third champion could take it.</p> - -<p>“The challenge was accepted by Bonamalgro, who unhorsed Smith, and was -near gaining the victory; but remounting in a critical moment he gave -the Turk a stroke with his falchion, which brought him to the ground, -and his head was added to the number.</p> - -<p>“For these singular exploits he was honored with a military procession, -consisting of six thousand men, three led horses, and the Turks’ heads -on the points of their lances. With this ceremony Smith was conducted to -the pavilion of his general, who, after embracing him, presented him -with a horse richly furnished, a scymetar and belt worth three hundred -ducats, and a commission to be major in his regiment.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_171" id="page_171">{171}</a></span></p> - -<p>“The prince of Transylvania, after the capture of the place, made him a -present of his picture set in gold, and a pension of three hundred -ducats per annum; and moreover granted him a coat of arms, bearing three -Turks’ heads in a shield.</p> - -<p>“The patent was admitted and received in the college of heralds in -England, by Sir Henry Segar, garter king at arms. Smith was always proud -of this distinguished honor, and these arms are accordingly blazoned in -the frontispiece to his history, with this motto, ‘<i>Vincere est -vivere</i>.’</p> - -<p>“After this, the Transylvanian army was defeated by a body of Turks and -Tartars near Rotention, and many brave men were slain, among whom were -nine English and Scots officers, who, after the fashion of that day, had -entered into this service, from a religious zeal to drive the Turks out -of Christendom.</p> - -<p>“Smith was wounded in this battle and lay among the dead. His habit -discovered him to the victors as a person of consequence; they used him -well till his wounds were healed, and then sold him to the Basha Bogul, -who sent him as a present to his mistress, Tragabigzanda at -Constantinople, accompanied with a message, as full of vanity as void of -truth, that he had conquered a Bohemian nobleman, and presented him to -her as a slave.</p> - -<p>“The present proved more acceptable to the lady than her lord intended. -She could speak Italian; and Smith in that language not only informed -her of his country and quality, but conversed with her in so pleasing a -manner as to gain her affections. The connection proved so tender, that -to<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_172" id="page_172">{172}</a></span> secure him for herself, and to prevent his being ill-used, she sent -him to her brother, the bashaw of Nalbraitz, in the country of the -Cambrian Tartars on the borders of the sea of Azoph. Her pretence was, -that he should there learn the manners and language as well as religion -of the Tartars.</p> - -<p>“By the terms in which she wrote to her brother, he suspected her -design, and resolved to disappoint her. Within an hour after Smith’s -arrival he was stripped, his head and beard were shaven, an iron collar -was put about his neck, he was clothed with a coat of hair-cloth, and -driven to labor among the Christian slaves.</p> - -<p>“He had now no hope of redemption, but from the love of his mistress, -who was at a great distance, and not likely to be informed of his -misfortunes. The hopeless condition of his fellow slaves could not -alleviate his despondency.</p> - -<p>“In the depth of his distress an opportunity presented for an escape, -which to a person of less courageous and adventurous spirit would have -been an aggravation of misery. He was employed in threshing at a grange -in a large field, about a league from the house of his tyrant; who in -his daily visits treated him with abusive language, accompanied with -blows and kicks.</p> - -<p>“This was more than Smith could bear; wherefore watching an opportunity, -when no other person was present, he levelled a stroke at him with his -threshing instrument, which dispatched him.</p> - -<p>“Then hiding his body in the straw, and shutting the door, he filled a -bag with grain, mounted the bashaw’s horse, and<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_173" id="page_173">{173}</a></span> betaking himself to the -desert, wandered for two or three days, ignorant of the way, and so -fortunate as not to meet with a single person, who might give -information of his flight.</p> - -<p>“At length he came to a post, erected in a cross road, by the marks on -which he found the way to Muscovy, and in sixteen days he arrived at -Exapolis, on the river Don; where was a Russian garrison, the commander -of which, understanding that he was a Christian, received him -courteously, took off his iron collar, and gave him letters to the other -governors in that region.</p> - -<p>“Thus he travelled through part of Russia and Poland, till he got back -to his friends in Transylvania; receiving presents in his way from many -persons of distinction, among whom he particularly mentions a charitable -lady, Callamata, being always proud of his connection with that sex, and -fond of acknowledging their favors. At Leipsic he met with his colonel, -Count Meldrich, and Sigismund, prince of Transylvania, who gave him one -thousand five hundred ducats to repair his losses.</p> - -<p>“With this money he was enabled to travel through Germany, France, and -Spain, and having visited the kingdom of Morocco, he returned by sea to -England; having in his passage enjoyed the pleasure of another naval -engagement.</p> - -<p>“At his arrival in his native country, he had a thousand ducats in his -purse, which, with the interest he had remaining in England, he devoted -to seek adventures and make discoveries in North America.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_174" id="page_174">{174}</a></span>”</p> - -<p>Reader, if thou hast perused the preceding sketch of the life of Captain -Smith, pause one moment, and reflect, that all that is here recorded, he -performed, passed through, and suffered, before he came to the wild -shores of the new world. And that here he entered upon a new field of -enterprise, and of suffering, and of daring, not less remarkable than -the scenes which had already given such wonderful interest to his -eventful life. Follow him to the wilderness of Virginia, and witness the -toils and struggles he went through to plant the first European -settlement in these states. Behold him the guardian spirit of the little -colony, in repeated instances and in various ways protecting it by his -single arm from utter destruction. When the colony was sinking under -famine, the energy and activity of Smith always brought them food; when -beset by the subtle and ferocious tribes around them, the courage and -skill of Smith never failed to prove a safe and sufficient shield for -their protection. When traitors among them sought to rob and abandon the -colony, they were detected by his penetration and punished by his power. -It mattered not what nominal rank he held in the colony, whether vested -with office, or filling only the humble post of a private individual, it -was to him that all eyes were turned in times of difficulty and danger, -and it was his name alone that struck terror to the hearts of the -hostile savages.</p> - -<p>With a dozen men in an open boat, he performs a voyage of a thousand -miles, surveying the shores of the great Chesapeake Bay and exploring -its noble tributary streams, with thousands of the wild sons of the -forest ready to meet<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_175" id="page_175">{175}</a></span> him at every turn. When, in the cabin of the -powerful chief Opechancanough, five hundred warriors, armed with bow and -club, surrounded him with a determination to seize him and put him to -death, who but Captain John Smith would have extricated himself from his -perilous situation? Nothing daunted, he seized the giant chieftain by -the hair of his head with one hand, held a pistol to his breast with the -other, and led him out trembling among his people, and made them throw -down their arms.</p> - -<p>In short, for romantic adventure, “hair-breadth escapes,” the sublimity -of courage, high and honorable feeling, and true worth of character, the -history of the world may be challenged to produce a parallel to Captain -John Smith, the founder of Virginia.</p> - -<h3>[<a name="note_13"></a><a href="#NT_13">NOTE 13—CANTO THIRD, SECT. I.</a>]</h3> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanzaital"> -<span class="i0">And well might English hearts beat high,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">When first they breathed thy virgin air;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">For never to them seem’d sky so bright,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Nor ever a land so fair.<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<p>“Every object that struck their senses, as they sailed up the -Chesapeake, was well calculated to awaken hope in the minds of the -adventurers. They were almost enclosed in one of the most spacious bays -in the world; whilst the rich verdure, with which a genial and early -spring had clad the forest, ascending from the edge of the shore to the -summits of the hills, presented a prospect at once regular and -magnificent. It was a sort of vast amphitheatre, the limits<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_176" id="page_176">{176}</a></span> of which -were the horizon; and when to the real beauty of the landscape, be added -the ardent spirit of adventure, which delights in the marvellous, and -kindles and dilates itself by the enthusiasm of fancy; there is little -cause for our surprise at the glowing descriptions of the first -settlers, who represented it as a kind of earthly paradise or -elisium.”—<i>Burk’s History of Virginia.</i></p> - -<p> </p> - -<p>There is a simplicity and an occasional richness in the original -descriptions of Captain Smith, which cannot fail to be relished by the -reader.</p> - -<p> </p> - -<p>“There is but one entrance by sea into this country, and that is at the -mouth of a very goodly bay eighteen or twenty miles broad. The cape at -the south is Cape Henry, in honor of our most noble prince. The land -white hilly sands, like unto the Downes, and all along the shores great -plentie of pines and firres.</p> - -<p>“The north cape is called Cape Charles, in honor of the worthy Duke of -Yorke; the isles before it, Smith’s Isles, by the name of the -discoverer. Within is a country that may have the prerogative over the -most pleasant places knowne, for large and pleasant navigable rivers; -heaven and earth never agreed better to frame a place for man’s -habitation. Here are mountains, hills, plains, valleys, rivers, and -brookes, all running most pleasantly into a faire bay, compassed but for -the mouth with fruitful and delightsome land.</p> - -<p>“The mountains are of divers natures; for at the head of<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_177" id="page_177">{177}</a></span> the bay the -rockes are of a composition like millstones. Some of marble, &c. And -many pieces like christall, we found, as throwne downe by water from -those mountains. These waters wash from the rockes such glistering -tinctures, that the ground in some places seemeth as guilded, where both -the rockes and the earth are so splendent to behold, <i>that better -judgements than ours might have beene persuaded they contained more than -probabilities</i>. The vesture of the earth in most places doth manifestly -prove the nature of the soyle to be lusty and very rich.</p> - -<p>“The country is not mountainous, nor yet low; but such pleasant plaines, -hils, and fertile valleyes, one prettily crossing another, and watered -so conveniently with fresh brooks and springs, no less commodious and -delightsome. By the rivers are many plaine marishes. Other plaines there -are few, but only where the savages inhabit; but all overgrowne with -trees and weeds, being a plaine wilderness as God first made it.</p> - -<p>“The windes here are variable, but the like thunder and lightning to -purify the air, I have seldome either seene or heard in -Europe.”—<i>Smith’s Virginia, published in London, 1629.</i></p> - -<p> </p> - -<p>In the same work, giving an account of an earlier voyage of discovery to -the western continent, under the patronage of Sir Walter Raleigh, the -author says, “The second of July they fell with the coast of Florida in -shoule water, where they felt a most delicate sweete smell. They found -their first landing-place very sandy and low, but so full of<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_178" id="page_178">{178}</a></span> grapes, -that the very surge of the sea sometimes overflowed them; of which they -found such plenty in all places, both on the sand, the greene soyle and -hils, as in the plaines, as well on every little shrub, as also climbing -towards the tops of high cedars, that they did thinke in the world were -not the like abundance.” * * * *</p> - -<p>“Discharging our muskets, such a flocke of cranes, the most white, arose -by us, with such a cry as if an army of men had shouted altogether.”</p> - -<p>The woods contained “the highest and reddest cedars of the world, -bettering them of the Assores, Indies or Libanus; pines, cypress, -saxefras, the lentish that beareth mastick, and many other of excellent -smell and quality.”</p> - -<p>“The soyle is most plentifull, sweete, wholesome, and fruitfull of all -other; there are about fourteen severall sorts of sweete smelling tymber -trees; such oaks as we, but far greater and better.”</p> - -<h3>[<a name="note_14"></a><a href="#NT_14">NOTE 14—CANTO THIRD, SECT. III.</a>]</h3> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanzaital"> -<span class="i0">And pale disease began to spread,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And scowling famine rear’d her head,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And many an exile droop’d and died<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Along the lonely river side,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Where wearily he went to roam<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And weep unseen for his English home.<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<p>Though the colony were several times threatened with famine while -Captain Smith remained with them, yet the activity, talents and vigorous -exertions of that remarkable<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_179" id="page_179">{179}</a></span> man never failed to bring them a timely -supply of provisions.</p> - -<p>But after Smith was compelled, in consequence of a wound received from -an explosion of gunpowder, to return to England, the sufferings of the -colony were almost unparalleled. The following sad picture of the -extremities to which they were reduced, is given by one of the writers -in Smith’s History of Virginia.</p> - -<p>“Of five hundred, within six months after Captain Smith’s departure, -there remained not past sixtie men, women, and children, most miserable -and poor creatures; and those were preserved for the most part, by -roots, herbes, acorns, walnuts, berries, now and then a little fish. -They that had starch in these extremities made no small use of it; yea, -even the very skins of our horses. Nay, so great was our famine, that a -savage we slew and buried, the poorer sort took him up again and eat -him, and so did divers one another, boyled and stewed with roots and -herbes. And one among the rest did kill his wife, powdered her, and had -eaten part of her before it was knowne, for which he was executed, as -hee well deserved. Now whether she was better roasted, boyled or -carbonadoed, I know not, but of such a dish as powdered wife I never -heard of. This was that time, which still to this day we called the -starving time.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_180" id="page_180">{180}</a></span>”</p> - -<h3>[<a name="note_15"></a><a href="#NT_15">NOTE 15—CANTO THIRD, SECT. VI.</a>]</h3> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanzaital"> -<span class="i0">Sir John the painted idol took<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And bore it to the shore;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And soon a suppliant priest came down,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Its ransom to implore.<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<p>“Being six or seven in company, he went downe the river to Kecoughtan, -where at first they scorned him as a famished man, and would in derision -offer him a handful of corn, a peece of bread, for their swords and -muskets, and such like proportions also for their apparel. But seeing by -trade and courtesie there was nothing to be had, he made bold to try -such conclusions as necessitie inforced, though contrary to his -commission; let fly his muskets, ran his boat on shore, whereat they all -fled into the woods. So, marching towards their houses, they might see -great heapes of corne. Much adoe he had to restrain his hungry soldiers -from present taking of it, expecting, as it happened, that the savages -would assault them, as not long after they did with a most hideous -noyse. Sixtie or seventy of them, some black, some red, some white, some -party-coloured, came in a square order, singing and dancing out of the -woods, with their Okee (which was an idoll made of skinnes, stuffed with -moss, all painted, and hung with chains and copper) borne before them. -And in this manner, being well armed with clubs, targets, bows and -arrows, they charged the English, that so kindly received them with -their muskets loaden with pistoll shot, that downe fell their god, and -divers lay sprauling on the ground. The rest fled into<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_181" id="page_181">{181}</a></span> the woods, and -ere long sent one of their priests to offer peace, and redeeme their -Okee. Smith told them if only six of them would come unarmed and load -his boat, he would not only be their friend, but restore them their -Okee, and give them beads, copper, and hatchets besides; which on both -sides was to their contents performed. And then they brought him -venison, turkies, wild-foule, bread, and what they had, singing and -dancing in signe of friendship till they departed.”—<i>Smith’s Virginia.</i></p> - -<h3>[<a name="note_16"></a><a href="#NT_16">NOTE 16—CANTO THIRD, SECT. VIII.</a>]</h3> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanzaital"> -<span class="i0">The waiters stood watchful to do his command.<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<p>“When he, [Powhatan,] dineth or suppeth, one of his women, before and -after meat, bringeth him water in a wooden platter to wash his hands. -Another waiteth with a bunch of feathers to wipe them instead of a -towel, and the feathers, when he hath wiped, are dryed -againe.”—<i>Captain Smith.</i></p> - -<h3>[<a name="note_17"></a><a href="#NT_17">NOTE 17—CANTO FOURTH, SECT. I.</a>]</h3> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanzaital"> -<span class="i0">And over, and over, down they roll’d,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And plunged beneath the wave.<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<p>Burk says that on one occasion Captain Smith, “whilst he walked -unattended in the woods, was attacked by the king of Paspahey, a man of -gigantic stature;” and Stith adds, that “the Indian, by mere dint of -strength, forced him into the water with intent to drown him. Long they -struggled,<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_182" id="page_182">{182}</a></span> till the President (Smith) got such hold of his throat, that -he almost strangled him.”</p> - -<h3>[<a name="note_18"></a><a href="#NT_18">NOTE 18—CANTO FOURTH, SECT. VII.</a>]</h3> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanzaital"> -<span class="i0">Temples that shield from vulgar sight<br /></span> -<span class="i0">A thousand holy things,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Their idols, tombs, and images<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Of great and ancient kings.<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<p>“In every territory of a werowance is a temple and priest; two or three -or more.</p> - -<p>“Upon the top of certaine red sandy hills in the woods, there are three -great houses filled with images of their kings, and devils, and tombs of -their predecessors. Those houses are near sixty foot in length, built -arbor-wise, after their building. This place they count so holy as that -but the priests and kings dare come into them; nor the savages dare not -go up the river in boats by it, but they solemnly cast some piece of -copper, white beads, or pocones, into the river, for fear their Okee -should be offended and revenged of them.”—<i>Smith’s Virginia.</i></p> - -<h3>[<a name="note_19"></a><a href="#NT_19">NOTE 19—CANTO FOURTH, SECT. VII.</a>]</h3> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanzaital"> -<span class="i0">When lo! the solemn man comes forth<br /></span> -<span class="i0">With slow and measured tread:<br /></span> -<span class="i0">A crown of snakes and weasel skins<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Is borne upon his head.<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<p>“Their chief priest differed from the rest in his ornaments, but -inferior priests could hardly be knowne from the common people, but that -they had not so many holes in<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_183" id="page_183">{183}</a></span> their ears to hang their jewells at. The -ornaments of the chief priest were certaine attires for his head, made -thus. They took a dozen or sixteen or more snakes’ skins, and stuffed -them with mosse, and of weazles and other vermines’ skins a good many. -All these they tie by their tails, so as all their tails meet on the top -of their head like a great tassell. Round about this tassell is as it -were a crowne of feathers; the skins hang round about his head, necke -and shoulders, and in a manner cover his face. The faces of all their -priests are painted as ugly as they can devise; in their hands they had -every one his rattle, some base, some smaller.”—<i>Smiths Virginia.</i></p> - -<h3>[<a name="note_20"></a><a href="#NT_20">NOTE 20—CANTO FOURTH, SECT. VII.</a>]</h3> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanzaital"> -<span class="i0">The sacred weed is in his hand,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">That Okee’s favor wins,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Whose grateful odor hath the power<br /></span> -<span class="i0">To expiate all sins:<br /></span> -<span class="i0">He hurls it forth with sinewy arm<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Into the hottest flame,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And thrice aloud in solemn tone<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Invokes great Okee’s name.<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<p>“They have also another superstition, that they use in storms, when the -waters are rough in the rivers and on the sea-coasts. Their conjurers -runne to the water sides, or passing in their boats, after many hellish -outcries and invocations, they cast tobacco, copper, pocones, or such -trash into the water, to pacify that god, whom they think to be very -angry in these storms.”—<i>Smith’s Virginia.</i><span class="pagenum"><a name="page_184" id="page_184">{184}</a></span></p> - -<h3>[<a name="note_21"></a><a href="#NT_21">NOTE 21—CANTO FOURTH, SECT. VII.</a>]</h3> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanzaital"> -<span class="i0">Around and round, for six tong hours,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">They battle with the air.<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<p>“The manner of their devotion is sometimes to make a great fire, in the -house or fields, and all to sing and dance about it with rattels and -shouts together, four or five hours. Sometimes they set a man in the -midst, and about him they dance and sing, he all the while clapping his -hands, as if he would keepe time; and after their songs and dancings -ended, they go to their feasts.”—<i>Smith’s Virginia.</i></p> - -<h3>[<a name="note_22"></a><a href="#NT_22">NOTE 22—CANTO FOURTH, SECT. XVII.</a>]</h3> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanzaital"> -<span class="i0">Compassion lit its gentle fires<br /></span> -<span class="i0">In the breast of Powhatan;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The warrior to the father yields,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The monarch to the man.<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<p>After Captain Smith had been taken prisoner by Opechancanough, he was -led in triumph through several of the tribes and witnessed many of the -strange ceremonies of the Indians, till at last he was brought to the -residence of the Emperor Powhatan. The scenes which occurred there, are -described as follows, by John Burk in his History of Virginia, a work of -which only one volume was completed, bringing the history down no later -than 1624. This volume is highly valuable as far as it goes, and -exhibits so much ability as to make it a matter of much regret that the -author did not live to complete his work.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_185" id="page_185">{185}</a></span></p> - -<p>“On the entrance of Smith, Powhatan was dressed in a cloak made of the -skins of the racoon. On either hand of the chief sat two young girls, -his daughters. His counsellors, adorned with shells and feathers, were -ranged on each side of the house, with an equal number of women standing -behind them. On Smith’s entrance, the attendants of Powhatan shouted. -The queen of Appamattox was appointed to bring him water to wash, whilst -another dried his hands with a bunch of feathers.</p> - -<p>“A consultation of the emperor and his council having taken place, it -was adjudged expedient to put Smith to death, as a man whose superior -courage and genius made him peculiarly dangerous to the safety of the -Indians. The decision being made known to the attendants of the emperor, -preparations immediately commenced for carrying it into execution by -means as simple and summary as the nature of the trial.</p> - -<p>“Two large stones were brought in and placed at the feet of the emperor; -and on them was laid the head of the prisoner. Next a large club was -brought in, with which Powhatan, for whom out of respect was reserved -the honor, prepared to crush the head of his captive. The assembly -looked on with sensations of awe, probably not unmixed with pity for the -fate of an enemy whose bravery had commanded their admiration, and in -whose misfortunes their hatred was possibly forgotten.</p> - -<p>“The fatal club was uplifted; the breasts of the company already, by -anticipation, felt the dreadful crash, which was to bereave the wretched -victim of life; when the young<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_186" id="page_186">{186}</a></span> and beautiful Pocahontas, the beloved -daughter of the emperor, with a shriek of terror and agony, threw -herself on the body of Smith. Her hair was loose and her eyes streaming -with tears, while her whole manner bespoke the deep distress and agony -of her bosom. She cast a beseeching look at her furious and astonished -father, deprecating his wrath, and imploring his pity and the life of -his prisoner, with all the eloquence of mute, but impassioned sorrow.</p> - -<p>“The remainder of this scene is honorable to the character of Powhatan. -It will remain a lasting monument, that, though different principles of -action and the influence of custom have given to the manners and -opinions of this people an appearance neither amiable nor virtuous, they -still retain the noblest property of the human character, the touch of -pity, and the feeling of humanity.</p> - -<p>“The club of the emperor was still uplifted; but pity had touched his -bosom, and his eye was every moment losing its fierceness. He looked -round to collect his fortitude, or perhaps to find an excuse for his -weakness in the faces of his attendants. But every eye was suffused with -the sweetly contagious softness. The generous savage no longer -hesitated. The compassion of the rude state is neither ostentatious nor -dilatory; nor does it insult its object by the exaction of impossible -conditions. Powhatan lifted his grateful and delighted daughter, and the -captive, scarcely yet assured of safety, from the earth.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_187" id="page_187">{187}</a></span>”</p> - -<h3>[<a name="note_23"></a><a href="#NT_23">NOTE 23—CANTO FIFTH, SECT. XV.</a>]</h3> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanzaital"> -<span class="i0">But glancing round upon his men,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Unbending still he stood,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Upright in native dignity,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Like an old oak of the wood.<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<p>Powhatan having refused to go to Jamestown to receive the royal presents -which Newport had brought from King James, it was decided that Newport -and Smith should go to his residence with a file of men, and invest him -with the robe of state and crown agreeably to King James’s request. A -brief account of the ceremony is given in the quaint language of Captain -Smith, as follows.</p> - -<p>“The presents were sent by water, and the captains went by land with -fifty good shot. All being met at Werowocomoco, the next day was -appointed for his coronation. Then the presents were brought in, his -bason and ewer, bed and furniture set up, his scarlet cloak and apparell -with much adoe put on him, being perswaded by Namontack they would not -hurt him. But a foule trouble there was to make him kneele to receive -his crowne, he neither knowing the majesty nor meaning of a crowne, nor -bending of the knee, endured so many perswasions, examples, and -instructions, as tyred them all. At last, by leaning hard on his -shoulders, he a little stooped, and three having the crowne in their -hands put it on his head.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_188" id="page_188">{188}</a></span>”</p> - -<h3>[<a name="note_24"></a><a href="#NT_24">NOTE 24—CANTO SIXTH, SECT. VII.</a>]</h3> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanzaital"> -<span class="i0">And still with sad and anxious thought<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And moveless eyes he stood,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Till he saw her by another flash<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Enter the midnight wood.<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<p>SKETCH OF THE CHARACTER OF POCAHONTAS.</p> - -<p>“The character of this interesting woman, as it stands in the concurrent -accounts of all our historians, is not, it is with confidence affirmed, -surpassed by any in the whole range of history; and for those qualities -more especially, which do honor to our nature—a humane and feeling -heart, an ardor and unshaken constancy in her attachments—she stands -almost without a rival.</p> - -<p>“At the first appearance of the Europeans, her young heart was impressed -with admiration of the persons and manners of the strangers. But it is -not during their prosperity that she displays her attachment. She is not -influenced by awe of their greatness, or fear of their resentment, in -the assistance she affords them. It was during their severest -distresses, when their most celebrated chief was a captive in their -hands, and was dragged through the country, as a spectacle for the sport -and derision of her people, that she places herself between them and -destruction.</p> - -<p>“The spectacle of Pocahontas in an attitude of entreaty, with her hair -loose, and her eyes streaming with tears, supplicating her enraged -father for the life of Captain Smith,<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_189" id="page_189">{189}</a></span> when he is about to crush the -head of his prostrate victim with a club, is a situation equal to the -genius of Raphael. And when the royal savage directs his ferocious -glance for a moment from his victim, to reprove his weeping daughter; -when, softened by her distress, his eye loses its fierceness, and he -gives his captive to her tears, the painter will discover a new occasion -for exercising his talents.</p> - -<p>“In Pocahontas we have to admire, not the softer virtues only; she is -found, when the interest of her friends demands it, full of foresight -and intrepidity.</p> - -<p>“When a conspiracy is planned for the extermination of the English, she -eludes the jealous vigilance of her father, and ventures at midnight, -through a thousand perils, to apprise them of their danger.</p> - -<p>“But in no situation does she appear to more advantage, than when, -disgusted with the cold formalities of a court (in England) and the -impertinent and troublesome curiosity of the people, she addressed the -feeling and pathetic remonstrance to Captain Smith on the distant -coldness of his manner. Briefly she stated the rise and progress of -their friendship; modestly she pointed out the services she had rendered -him; concluding with an affecting picture of her situation, at a -distance from her country and family, and surrounded by strangers in a -strange land.</p> - -<p>“Indeed there is ground for apprehension that posterity, in reading this -part of American history, will be inclined to consider the story of -Pocahontas as an interesting romance; perhaps recalling the palpable -fictions of early travellers and navigators, they may suppose that in -those times<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_190" id="page_190">{190}</a></span> a portion of fiction was deemed essential to the -embellishment of history. It is not even improbable, that considering -every thing relating to Captain Smith and Pocahontas as a mere fiction, -they may vent their spleen against the historian for impairing the -interest of his plot by marrying the princess of Powhatan to a Mr. Rolf, -of whom nothing had previously been said, in defiance of all the -expectations raised by the foregoing parts of the fable.</p> - -<p>“It is the last sad office of history to record the fate of this -incomparable woman. The severe muse, which presides over this -department, cannot plant the cypress over her grave, and consign her to -the tomb, with the stately pomp and graceful tears of poetry. She cannot -with pious sorrow inurn the ashes and immortalize the virtues of the -dead by the soul-piercing elegy, which fancy, mysterious deity, pours -out, wild and plaintive, her hair loose, and her white bosom throbbing -with anguish. Those things are placed equally beyond her reach and her -inclination. But history affects not to conceal her sorrow on this -occasion.</p> - -<p>“She died at Gravesend, (England,) where she was preparing to embark -with her husband and son on her return to Virginia. Her death was a -happy mixture of Indian fortitude and Christian submission, affecting -all those who saw her, by the lively and edifying picture of piety and -virtue which marked her latter moments.”—<i>Burk’s Virginia.</i><span class="pagenum"><a name="page_191" id="page_191">{191}</a></span></p> - -<h3>[<a name="note_25"></a><a href="#NT_25">NOTE 25—CANTO SIXTH, SECT. IX.</a>]</h3> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanzaital"> -<span class="i0">And now this land is ours again;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The rest of the pale-face crew<br /></span> -<span class="i0">We’ll brush away from our forest home,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">As we brush the drops of dew.<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<p>“The savages no sooner understood Smith was gone, but they all revolted, -and did spoil and murther all they encountered.”—<i>Smith’s Virginia.</i></p> - -<h3>[<a name="note_26"></a><a href="#NT_26">NOTE 26—CANTO SEVENTH, SECT. III.</a>]</h3> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanzaital"> -<span class="i0">We ran to rescue, but in vain;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">They bore her from the shore,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Away, away, and much I fear<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Thou’lt never see her more.<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<p>Whatever account Japazaws may have given of the capture of Metoka, or -Pocahontas, history attributes the incident altogether to his own -treachery. She was carried away by Captain Argall, who was up the -Potomac with his vessel for the purpose of trading with the natives. The -following account is copied from Burk.</p> - -<p>“By the means of Japazaws, king of Potomac, he discovered that -Pocahontas was concealed in the neighborhood, and he immediately -conceived the design of getting her into his power; concluding that the -possession of so valuable an hostage would operate as a check on the -hostile dispositions of the emperor, and might perhaps be made an -instrument of peace and reconciliation. The integrity of<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_192" id="page_192">{192}</a></span> Japazaws was -not proof against the seducing appearance of a copper kettle, which was -fixed as the price of his treachery; and this amiable maiden, whose soul -nature formed on one of her kindest and noblest models, was betrayed by -her perfidious host into the hands of a people, whom her tender and -compassionate spirit had often snatched from famine and the sword.</p> - -<p>“For the causes of this princess’s absence from her father, we are left -to bare conjecture. Her avowed partiality for the English had probably -drawn down on her the displeasure of this high-spirited monarch; and she -had retired to avoid the effects of his immediate resentment.”</p> - -<h3>[<a name="note_27"></a><a href="#NT_27">NOTE 27—CANTO SEVENTH, SECT. VIII.</a>]</h3> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanzaital"> -<span class="i0">Sir John had led him by the hair<br /></span> -<span class="i0">With pistol at his breast;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The rankling thought was a raging fire,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">That never let him rest.<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<p>“The president, (Smith,) some time after this, being on a visit to -Pamunky, an attempt was made by Opechancanough to seize him; for which -purpose he beset the place, where they had met to trade, with seven -hundred Indians, well-armed, of his own tribe. But Smith, seizing him by -the hair, led him trembling in the midst of his people, who immediately -laid down their arms.”—<i>Burk’s Virginia.</i><span class="pagenum"><a name="page_193" id="page_193">{193}</a></span></p> - -<h3>[<a name="note_28"></a><a href="#NT_28">NOTE 28—CANTO SEVENTH, SECT. X.</a>]</h3> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanzaital"> -<span class="i0">When morning came, the sun look’d down<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Where many a cottage stood,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">But he only saw black smouldering heaps,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And fields that smoked with blood.<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<p>The great massacre of the Virginia colony by the Indians in 1622, is -thus described by Burk.</p> - -<p>“Whilst the colony was thus rapidly advancing to eminence and wealth, -she carried in her bosom and about her an enemy which was to blight her -budding honors, and which brought near to ruin and desolation her -growing establishment. Since the marriage of Pocahontas, the natives had -lived on terms of uninterrupted and apparently cordial amity with the -English, which daily gained strength by mutual wants and necessities. -Each had something beyond their wants, which the other stood in need of. -And commerce, regulated by good faith, and a spirit of justice, gave -facility to the exchange or barter of their superfluous productions. The -consequence of this state of things was, a complete security on the part -of the English; a total disregard and disuse of military precautions and -martial exercises. The time and the hands of labor were considered too -valuable to be employed in an idle and holiday array of arms; and in -this situation, wholly intent on amassing wealth, and totally unprovided -for defence, they were attacked by an enemy, whose resentment no time -nor good offices could disarm; whose preparations were silent as night; -to whom the arts of native cunning had given a<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_194" id="page_194">{194}</a></span> deep dissimulation, an -exterior so specious, as might impose on suspicion itself.</p> - -<p>“Opechancanough (who succeeded Powhatan in the government) possessed a -powerful recommendation in the eyes of his countrymen. His hatred of the -English was rooted and deadly. Never for a moment did he forget the -unjust invasion and insolent aggressions of those strangers. Never did -he forget his own personal wrongs and humiliation.</p> - -<p>“Compelled by the inferiority of his countrymen in the weapons and -instruments of war, as by their customs, to employ stratagem instead of -force, he buried deep in his bosom all traces of the rage with which he -was agitated.</p> - -<p>“To the English, if any faith was due to appearances, his deportment was -uniformly frank and unreserved. He was the equitable mediator in the -several differences which arose between them and his countrymen.</p> - -<p>“The intellectual superiority of the white men was the constant theme of -his admiration. He appeared to consider them as the peculiar favorites -of heaven, against whom resistance were at once impious and -impracticable. But far different was his language and deportment in the -presence of his countrymen.</p> - -<p>“In the gloom and silence of the dark and impenetrable forest, or the -inaccessible swamp, he gave utterance to the sorrows and indignation of -his swelling bosom. He painted with the strength and brilliancy of -savage coloring the tyranny, rapacity, and cruelty of the English; while -he mournfully contrasted the unalloyed content and felicity of their -former lives, with their present abject and degraded<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_195" id="page_195">{195}</a></span> condition; subject -as they were to the capricious control and intolerable requisitions of -those hard and unpitying task-masters.</p> - -<p>“Independence is the first blessing of the savage state. Without it, all -other advantages are light and valueless. Bereft of this, in their -estimation even life itself is a barren and comfortless possession. It -is not surprising then, that Opechancanough, independent of his -influence as a great Werowance or war captain, should, on such a -subject, discover kindred feelings in the breasts of his countrymen. The -war-song and war-whoop, breaking like thunder from the fierce and -barbarous multitudes, mingling with the clatter of their shields, and -enforced by the terrific gestures of the war-dance, proclaimed to their -leader their determination to die with him or conquer.</p> - -<p>“With equal address the experienced and wily savage proceeded to allay -the storm which invective had conjured up in the breasts of the Indians. -The English, although experience had proved them neither immortal nor -invincible, he represented as formidable by their fire-arms, and their -superior knowledge in the art of war; and he inculcated, as the sole -means of deliverance and revenge, secrecy and caution until an occasion -should offer, when, by surprise or ambush, the scattered establishments -of their enemies might at the same moment be assaulted and swept away.</p> - -<p>“Four years had nearly elapsed in maturing this formidable conspiracy; -during which time, not a single Indian belonging to the thirty nations, -which composed the empire of Powhatan, was found to violate his -engagements, or be<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_196" id="page_196">{196}</a></span>tray his leader. Not a word or hint was heedlessly or -deliberately dropt to awaken jealousy or excite suspicion.</p> - -<p>“Every thing being at length ripe for execution, the several nations of -Indians were secretly drawn together, and stationed at the several -points of attack, with a celerity and precision unparalleled in history. -Although some of the detachments had to march from great distances, and -through a continued forest, guided only by the stars and the dubious -light of the moon, no instance of mistake or disorder took place. The -Indian mode of march is by single files. They follow one after another -in profound silence, treading nearly as possible in the steps of each -other, and adjusting the long grass and branches which they have -displaced. This is done to conceal all traces of their route from their -enemies, who are equally sagacious and quick-sighted. They halted at a -short distance from the English, waiting without impatience for the -signal which was to be given by their fellows, who, under pretence of -traffic, had this day in considerable numbers repaired to the -plantations of the colonists.</p> - -<p>“So perfect was the cunning and dissimulation of Opechancanough, that on -the morning of this fatal day, the straggling English by his direction -were conducted in safety through the woods to their settlements, and -presents of venison and fowl were sent in his name to the governor and -counsellors, accompanied with expressions of regard and assurances of -friendship. ‘Sooner,’ said the wily chieftain, ‘shall the sky fall, than -the peace shall be violated on my part.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_197" id="page_197">{197}</a></span>’</p> - -<p>“And so entirely were the English duped by these professions and -appearances, that they freely lent the Indians their boats, with which -they announced the concert, the signal and the hour of attack to their -countrymen on the other side of the river.</p> - -<p>“The fatal hour having at length arrived, and the necessary dispositions -having every where taken place; on a signal given, at mid day, -innumerable detachments setting up the war-whoop, burst from their -concealments on the defenceless settlements of the English, massacreing -all they met, without distinction of age or sex; and according to custom -mutilating and mangling in a shocking manner the dead bodies of their -enemies.</p> - -<p>“So unexpected and terrible was the onset, that scarcely any resistance -was made. The English fell scarcely knowing their enemies, and in many -instances by their own weapons. In one hour three hundred and -forty-seven men, women, and children, including six of the council and -several others of distinction, fell without a struggle, by the hands of -the Indians. Chance alone saved the colony from utter extirpation.</p> - -<p>“A converted Indian, named Chanco, lived with Richard Pace, loved by his -master on account of his good qualities, with an affection at once -Christian and parental. The night preceding the massacre, the brother of -Chanco slept with him; and after a strict injunction of secrecy, having -revealed to him the intended plot, he commanded him, in the name of -Opechancanough, to murder his master. The grateful Indian, shocked at -the atrocity of the proposal, af<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_198" id="page_198">{198}</a></span>ter his brother’s departure, flew to -Pace and disclosed to him the information he had received. There was no -time to be lost. Before day a despatch was forwarded to the governor at -Jamestown, which with the adjacent settlements was thus preserved from -the ruin that hung over them.</p> - -<p> </p> - -<p>“From this time the number of the plantations and settlements, which -before amounted to eighty, was reduced to six, and their strength -concentrated by order of the governor about Jamestown and the -neighborhood. All works of public utility, as well as the exertions of -private industry, were entirely suspended; and the whole attention of -the colonists was bent on the means of defence, and on projects of -vengeance. A bloody and exterminating war ensued, in which treachery and -cruelty took place of manly courage and generous warfare. The laws of -war, and that humanity, which in the moments of victory give quarter to -the vanquished, were forgotten amid the suggestions of craving and -insatiable revenge. But the opportunities of retaliation, owing to the -swiftness of the natives, were not frequent enough to appease the -boiling spirit of vengeance. The Indian, pressed by hunger, or -stimulated by the hope of plunder or revenge, would on a sudden burst -from his concealment on his enemy, and if outnumbered and pursued, he -vanished amid the eternal midnight of his forests. Whole days he lies on -his belly in breathless silence, his color not distinguishable from the -earth on which he lies, and every faculty wound up to attention. He -watches the<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_199" id="page_199">{199}</a></span> moment when he can strike with certainty, and his aim is as -fatal and unerring as destiny.</p> - -<p>“At last the Indians were invited from their fastnesses by the hopes of -peace and the solemn assurances of safety and forgiveness. That inhuman -maxim of the Roman Church, ‘that no faith is to be kept with heretics,’ -appears to have been adopted by the colonists in its fullest force.</p> - -<p>“The habitations of the unfortunate people were beset at the same -moment; and an indiscriminate slaughter took place, without regard to -age, sex, or infancy. The horrid scene terminated by setting fire to the -huts and corn of the savages.”</p> - -<div class="footnotes"><p class="cb"><a name="FOOTNOTES" id="FOOTNOTES"></a>FOOTNOTES:</p> - -<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_A_1" id="Footnote_A_1"></a><a href="#FNanchor_A_1"><span class="label">[A]</span></a> Powhatan. This name, in the northern and middle states, has -usually been accented on the second syllable. But in Virginia the accent -is thrown on the first and last syllables, which is undoubtedly -according to the Indian mode of pronunciation, and therefore the true -one.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_B_2" id="Footnote_B_2"></a><a href="#FNanchor_B_2"><span class="label">[B]</span></a> Metoka, or Metoaka, which was the original name of -Pocahontas, is adopted in preference to the latter throughout this poem, -on account of its greater euphony.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_C_3" id="Footnote_C_3"></a><a href="#FNanchor_C_3"><span class="label">[C]</span></a> This name is sometimes pronounced by throwing a strong -accent on the fourth syllable. The pronunciation adopted in this work -throws a slight accent on the first, third, and fifth syllables, which -is believed to be more agreeable to the usage of the Indian tribes. In -pronouncing long words they seldom give much accent to any one syllable, -but utter each syllable with nearly the same intonation.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_D_4" id="Footnote_D_4"></a><a href="#FNanchor_D_4"><span class="label">[D]</span></a> Okee was the name of one of their principal gods, a rude -image of which was kept in most of the tribes.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_E_5" id="Footnote_E_5"></a><a href="#FNanchor_E_5"><span class="label">[E]</span></a> Kecoughtan was on the west side of Chesapeake Bay, where -Hampton now stands. James River was called, by the natives, Powhatan.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_F_6" id="Footnote_F_6"></a><a href="#FNanchor_F_6"><span class="label">[F]</span></a> Paspahey was the place on James River where the English -first effected a settlement, and gave it the name of Jamestown.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_G_7" id="Footnote_G_7"></a><a href="#FNanchor_G_7"><span class="label">[G]</span></a> King, chief, or head man of a tribe.</p></div> - -</div> -<hr class="full" /> - - - - - - - -<pre> - - - - - -End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Powhatan; A Metrical Romance, in Seven -Cantos, by Seba Smith - -*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK POWHATAN *** - -***** This file should be named 60506-h.htm or 60506-h.zip ***** -This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: - http://www.gutenberg.org/6/0/5/0/60506/ - -Produced by Tim Lindell, Chuck Greif and the Online -Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net (This -file was produced from images generously made available -by The Internet Archive/American Libraries.) - - -Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions -will be renamed. - -Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no -one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation -(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without -permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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