University of Virginia Library


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CANTO FOURTH.

As if to battle, o'er the midnight heaven
The clouds are hurrying forth: now veiled on high,
Now sallying out, the moon and stars are driven,
As wandering doubtful; in the shifting sky,
Mid mazes strange the Dancers seem to fly;
Wildly the unwearied hunters drive the Bear:

“Ils (les Iroquois et les Hurons) nomment les Pleyades, les Danseurs et les Dansueses. Ils donnent le nom d' Ours aux quatre premieres de ce que nous appellons la grande Ourse; les trois qui composent sa queue, ou qui sont le train du Chariot de David, sont, selon eux, trois Chasseurs, qui poursuivent l'Ours; et la petite Etoile, qui accompagne celle du milieu, est la Chaudiere dont le second est chargé. Les Sauvages de l'Acadie nommoient tout simplement cette Constellation et la suivante, la grande et la petite Ourse; mais ne pourroit-on pas juger que quand ils parloient ainsi au sieur Lescarbot, ils ne répétoient que ce qu'ils avoient oui dire à plusieurs François?”— Charlevoix, iii. 400.

“It has been surprising unto me to find, that they have always called Charles's Wain by the name of Paukunnawaw, or The Bear, which is the name by which Europeans also have distinguished it.” — Magnalia, iii. 192.


Through the deep groves is heard a Spirit's cry;
And hark! what strain unearthly echoes there,
Borne fitful from afar, along the troubled air.

TO THE MANITTO

Or Spirit. The word is thus written by Heckewelder. By the English authors it is written Manitou, whence Mr. Campbell has it so in “Gertrude of Wyoming.”

“As when the evil Manitou that dries
The Ohio woods,” &c.

The mistake may have arisen from the French authors writing it Manitou, which is pronounced Maneetou.

The incantation which I have introduced in this place, is founded on the subsequent passages from Charlevoix; which are, I believe, abundantly sufficient to justify the expressions in the text, unless it be, perhaps, those in the second of verse the third Stanza, where the Spirit is apostrophized as the Muse, or personification of the imagination itself. I have also taken the liberty of ascribing to one Spirit, the congenial attributes of many. If, Father Charlevoix has not been deceived, and led too far by his own fancy, surely, the elements of poetry cannot be denied to our Aborigines.

“Before we launch out into the particulars of their worship, it will be proper to remark that the savages give the name of Genius or Spirit to all that surpasses their understanding, and proceeds from a cause that they cannot trace. Some of their Spirits they take to be Good, and some Bad; of the former sort are the Spirit of Dreams, &c. Of the latter sort are Thunder, Hail falling upon their corn, a great Storm,” &c.— La Hontan, Vol. ii. p. 30. The Manittos of the Lenapé are the same as the Okkis of the Iroquois. — Charlevoix, p. 345.

When the Indians had dreams, it was indispensable to their quiet, that the vision should be immediately accomplished. One of them, who dreamed that he was tormented by his enemies, had himself tied to a stake, and would not be pacified, until he had been severely mangled. Many stories of this kind are told by Charlevoix, p. 354. The longest and most curious is that of a Huron woman, narrated p. 230, in the third volume. It is too long to be here inserted; though several ideas in the text are taken from it.

OF DREAMS.

I.

1.

Spirit! thou Spirit of subtlest air,
Whose power is upon the brain,
When wondrous shapes, and dread, and fair,

144

As the film from the eyes
At thy bidding flies,
To sight and sense are plain!

2.

“Thy whisper creeps where leaves are stirred;

“Et l'on prétend que la présence de l'Esprit se manifeste par un Vent impétueux, qui se leve tout à coup; ou par un Mugissement, que l'on entend sous terre, &c.” Charlevoix is here speaking, however, of the Spirit which occasions mental wandering in sickness; which I have identified with the Spirit of Dreams.


Thou sighest in woodland gale;
Where waters are gushing thy voice is heard;
And when stars are bright,
At still midnight,
Thy symphonies prevail!

3.

“Where the forest ocean, in quick commotion,
Is waving to and fro,
Thy form is seen, in the masses green,
Dimly to come and go.
From thy covert peeping, where thou layest sleeping,
Beside the brawling brook,
Thou art seen to wake, and thy flight to take
Fleet from thy lonely nook.

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4.

Where the moonbeam has kist
The sparkling tide,
In thy mantle of mist
Thou art seen to glide.
Far o'er the blue waters
Melting away,
On the distant billow,
As on a pillow,
Thy form to lay.

5.

Where the small clouds of even
Are wreathing in heaven
Their garland of roses,
O'er the purple and gold,
Whose hangings enfold
The hall that encloses
The couch of the sun,
Whose empire is done,—
There thou art smiling,
For thy sway is begun;
Thy shadowy sway,

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The senses beguiling,
When the light fades away,
And thy vapour of mystery o'er nature ascending,
The heaven and the earth,
The things that have birth,
And the embryos that float in the future is blending.

II.

1.

“From the land, on whose shores the billows break

“They (four savages from the west) farther informed us, That the Nation of the Asseni poulaes, whose lake is down in the map, and who lie North-East of the Issatti, was not above six or seven Days Journey from us: That none of the Nations within their Knowledge, who lie to the West and North-West of them, had any great Lake about their Countries, which were very large, but only Rivers, which coming from the North, run cross the Countries of their Neighbouring Nations, which border on their Confines, on the side of the Great Lake, which in the Language of the Savages is the same as sea. That Spirits, and Pigmies, or men of little Stature, did inhabit them, as they had been informed by People that lived farther up than themselves; and that all the nations which lie beyond their Country, and those which are next to them, do dwell in Meadows and large Fields, where are many wild Bulls and Castors, which are greyer than those of the North, and have their Coat more inclining to Black; with many other wild Beasts, which yield very fine Furrs.”— Hennepin's New Discovery of a Vast Country in America, &c. London, translated, with additions, 1699.

It is probable that Father Hennepin confounded the general name of the sea, among the savages, with the particular name given to the Assinapoil lake. Charlevoix says, “Le veritable Pays des Assinaboils est aux environs d'un Lac, qui porte leur nom, et que l'on connoit peu. Un François, que j'ai vu à Montreal m'a assûré y avoir été, mais il l'avoit vû, comme on voit la mer dans un Port, et en passant, L'opinion commune est que ce Lac a six cent lieues de circuit; qu'on ne peut y aller que par des chemins presque impratiquables; que tous les Bords en sont charmans, &c. Quelques Sauvages le nomment Michinipi, qui veut dire la Grande Eau. C'est bien dommage que ce Lac n'ait pas été connû des Sçavans, qui ont cherché partout le Paradis Terrestre; il auroit été pour le moins aussi bien placé là que dans la Scandinavie.” iii. pp. 185.


The sounding waves of the mighty lake;
From the land where boundless meadows be,
Where the buffalo ranges wild and free;
With silvery coat in his little isle,
Where the beaver plies his ceaseless toil;
The land where pigmy forms abide,
Thou leadest thy train at the even tide;
And the wings of the wind are left behind,
So swift through the pathless air they glide.

2.

Then to the chief who has fasted long,

“Celui qui doit commander ne songe point à lever des Soldats qu'il n'ait jeûné plusieurs jours, pendant lesquels il est barbouillé de noir, n'á presque point de conversation avec personne, invoque jour et nuit son Esprit tutelaire, observe surtout avec soin des Songes. La persuasion où il est, suivant le génie présomptueux de ces Barbares, qu'il va marcher à une Victoire certaine, ne manque guéres de lui causer des Rêves selon ses desirs.”— Charlevoix, iii. pp. 216.


When the chains of his slumber are heavy and strong,

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Spirit! thou comest; he lies as dead,
His weary lids are with heaviness weighed;
But his soul is abroad on the hurricane's pinion,
Where foes are met in the rush of fight,
In the shadowy world of thy dominion
Conquering and slaying, till morning light!

3.

Then shall the hunter who waits for thee,

“C'est toujours un Chef de Guerre, qui marque le tems de la chasse de l'ours, et qui a soin d'inviter les chasseurs. Cette invitation est suivie d'une Jeùne de huit jours, pendant lesquels il n'est pas même permis de boire une goutte d'eau. Le Jeûne s'obverve pour obtenir des Espirits qu'ils fassent connôitre où l'on trouvera beaucoup d'ours.” &c. &c.— Charlevoix, p. 115.


The land of the game rejoicing see;
Through the leafless wood,
O'er the frozen flood,
And the trackless snows
His spirit goes,
Along the sheeted plain,
Where the hermit bear, in his sullen lair,
Keeps his long fast, till the winter hath past,

“Le tems de la chasse de l'Ours est l'Hyver. Alors ces Animaux sont cachés dans les creux d'arbres; ou s'ils en trouvent d'abattus, ils se font de leurs Racines une Taniere, dont ils bouchent l'entrée, avec des Branches de Sapin, et où ils sont parfaitément à l'abri des rigueurs le da Saison. Si tout cela leur manque, ils font un Trou en Terre, et ont grand soin, quand ils y sont entrés, d'en bien fermer l'ouverture. On est bien assûré qu'il n'y porte ancune provision, et par conséquent que pendant tout ce temps-là il ne boit, ni ne mange.”— Charlevoix, 117.

With regard to the state in which the savages supposed the soul to be during sleep, Charlevoix has this passage. “Il n'y a rien sur quoi ces Barbares ayent porté plus loin la supersitition, et l'extravagance, que ce qui regarde les Songes; mais ils varient beaucoup dans la maniere, dont ils expliquent leurs peusées sur cela. Tantôt c'est l'Ame raisonnable, qui se promene, tandis que l'Ame sensitive continue d'animer le corps. Tantôt c'est le Génie familier, qui donne des avis salutaires sur ce qui doit arriver: tantôt c'est une visite, qu'on reçoit de l'Ame de l'Objet, auquel on rêve; mais de quelque façon, que l'on conçoive le Songe, il est toujours regardé comme une chose sacrée, et comme le moyen le plus ordinaire, dont les Dieux se servent pour faire connôitre aux Hommes leurs volontés.”— Charlevoix, 354.


And the boughs have budded again.
Spirit of dreams! all thy visions are true,
Who the shadow hath seen, he the substance shall view!

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III.

1.

“Thine the riddle, strange and dark,

It formed, according to our author, a great amusement of the savages, to tell their dreams in an ænigmatic manner, and compel each other to divine them. A feast of dreams, as it was ordinarily called, but which was named by the Iroquois “the confusion of brains,” was occasionally held. Its orgies were fantastical, and sometimes dangerous; for if any one took it into his head to say, that he had dreamed of killing another, the person threatened, had need of ready wit, to avert the literal fulfilment of the vision. An account of this festival is given in Charlevoix, p. 356. There was another strange custom growing out of this superstition. Previous to entering the enemies country, the warriors ran about their camp, proclaiming their obscure visions; and he, whose riddle was not satisfactorily guessed, had the privilege of returning without comment or dishonour. “Voila,” says Charlevoix, “qui donne beau jeu aux Poltrons.” p. 237. These ænigmas, as this author repeatedly remarks, were always ascribed to the inspiration of a genius.


Woven in the dreamy brain:—
Thine to yield the power to mark

“Il n'est pas étonnant après cela que les Sauvages croyent aux Revenans: aussi en font-ils des contes de toutes les façons. J'ai vû un pauvre Homme, qui à forcé d'en entendre parler; s'étoit imaginé qu'il avoit toujours une troupe de Morts a ses trousses, et comme on avoit pris plaisir aà augmenter sa frayeur, il en etoit devenu fou.” p. 374.


Wandering by, the dusky train;
Warrior ghosts for vengeance crying,
Scalped on the lost battle's plain,
Or who died their foes defying,
Slow by lingering tortures slain.

2.

Thou the war-chief hovering near,
Breathest language on his ear;
When his winged words depart,
Swift as arrows to the heart;
When his eye the lightning leaves;
When each valiant bosom heaves;
Through the veins when hot and glowing
Rage like liquid fire is flowing;
Round and round the war pole whirling,
Furious when the dancers grow;

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When the maces swift are hurling
Promised vengeance on the foe;
Thine assurance, Spirit true!
Glorious victory gives to view!

3.

When of thought and strength despoiled,

“On ne refuse rien au malade de ce qu'il demande, parce que, dit-on, ses desirs en cet état sont des ordres du Génie, qui veille a sa conservation; et quand on appelle les Jongleurs, c'est moins a cause de leur habilité, que parce qu' on suppose, qu'ils peuvent mieux sçavoir des Espirits la cause du mal, et les remedes, qu'il y faut appliquer.” “Selon les Iroquois, toute Maladie est un desir de l'Ame, et on ne meurt, que parce que le desir n'est pas accompli.” pp. 367. 370.

In consequence of this superstition, they would not begrudge any trouble or danger, to satisfy the wildest wishes of an invalid. The jugglers or quack doctors among them, take advantage of this belief, to prescribe, in desperate cases, the accomplishment of some impossible task, which they pretend is wished by the patient, as the Spirits have revealed to them.—

Id. p. 368.

Lies the brave man like a child;
When discoloured visions fly,
Painful, o'er his glazing eye,
And wishes wild through his darkness rove,
Like flitting wings through the tangled grove,—
Thine is the wish; the vision thine,
And thy visits, Spirit! are all divine!

4.

When the dizzy senses spin,

Fools and madmen were supposed to be entirely under the influence of Spirits. The words of the latter were regarded as oracles.—

Idem.

And the brain is madly reeling,
Like the Pów-wah, when first within
The present spirit feeling;

“Il se commence (le Jongleur) par se faire suer, et quand il est bien fatigué à crier, à se debattre, et à invoquer son Génie, &c. Alors, plein de sa prétenduë Divinité, et plus semblable à un Energumene, qu'a un homme inspiré du Ciel,” &c.— Idem.

“The Conjurer is a partner with the Priest, not only in the Cheat, but in the Advantages of it, and sometimes they officiate for one another. When this Artist is in the act of Conjuration, or of Pauwawing, as they term it, he always appears with an Air of Haste, or else in some convulsive posture, that seems to strain all the Faculties, like the Sybils, when they pretended to be under the power of Inspiration.”—

History of Virginia, p. 183.

When rays are flashing athwart the gloom,
Like the dancing lights of the northern heaven,
When voices strange of tumult come
On the ear, like the roar of battle driven,—

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The Initiate then shall thy wonders see,
And thy priest, O Spirit! is full of thee!

IV.

Spirit of dreams! away! away!
It is thine hour of solemn sway;
And thou art holy; and our rite
Forbids thy presence here to-night.
Go light on lids that wake to pain;
Triumphant visions yield again!
If near the Christian's cot thou roam,
Tell him the fire has wrapt his home:
Where the mother lies in peaceful rest,
Her infant slumbering on her breast,
Tell her the red man hath seized its feet,
And against a tree its brains doth beat:
Fly to the bride who sleeps alone,
Her husband forth for battle gone;
Tell her, at morn,—and tell her true,—
His head on the bough her eyes shall view;
While his limbs shall be the raven's prey:—
Spirit of dreams! away! away!”

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V.

So sung the Initiates, o'er their rite
While hung the gloom of circling night.
Nor yet the unholy chant must rise,
Nor blaze the fire of sacrifice,
Until behind yon groves afar,
The Bear hath dipt his westering car;
And shrouded night, with central sway,
Veiled deeds unfit to meet the day.
Then rose the Prophet, on whose eye
Past generations had gone by:
He saw them fall, as some vast oak,
By storms unriven, by bolts unbroke,
Sees all the forest by its side
In countless autumns shed its pride;
Marks, gathering still, as years roll on,
Winter's sere harvest round it strown;—
Yet his gigantic form ascends,
Nor to the howling voice of time,
One sturdy, veteran sinew bends,
Erect in native grace sublime.

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The scattered relics of the lock,
Which oft had waved o'er battle shock,
In long and silvery lines were spread,
Like the white honours o'er the head
Of ancient mountain ash;—
His large eyes brightly, coldly shone,
As if their mortal light was gone
With clear, unearthly flash;
With strong arms forth outstretched he sprung;
Loose o'er his frame the bearskin hung;

“Of all the sights I ever saw among them, none appeared so near akin to what is usually imagined of infernal powers, as the appearance of one who was a devout and zealous reformer, or rather restorer, of what he supposed was the ancient religion of the Indians. He made his appearance in his pontifical garb, which was a coat of bear-skins, dressed with the hair on, and hanging down to his toes, a pair of bear-skin stockings, and a great wooden face,” &c.—

Brainerd's Diary. E.

“The Habit of the Indian Priest is a Cloak made in the Form of a Woman's Petticoat; but instead of tying it about their middle, they fasten the Gatherings about their neck, and tye it upon the Right Shoulder, always keeping one Arm out to use upon Occasion. This Cloak hangs even at the Bottom, but reaches no lower than the middle of the thigh; but what is most particular in it is, that it is constantly made of a Skin drest soft, with the Pelt or Fur on the Outside, and revers'd; insomuch, that when the Cloak has been a little worn, the Hair falls down in Flakes, and looks very shagged and Frightful.”—

History of Virginia, p. 143.

Through every limb quick tremors ran,
As, rapt with fate, that aged man
His lore oracular began.

The Prophecy.

VI.

“O heard ye around the sad moan of the gale,
As it sighed o'er the mountain, and shrieked in the vale?
'Tis the voice of the Spirit prophetic, who past;
His mantle of darkness around him is cast;

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Wild flutters his robe, and the light of his plume
Faint glimmers along through the mist and the gloom;
Where the moonbeam is hidden, the shadow hath gone,
It has flitted in darkness, that morrow has none;
But my ear drank the sound, and I feel in my breast,
What the voice of the Spirit prophetic imprest.
O saw ye that gleaming unearthly of light?

“Among their various superstitions, they [the Algonquins] believe that the vapour which is seen to hover over moist and swampy places, is the spirit of some person lately dead.”—

McKensie. E.

Behold where it winds o'er the moor from our sight!—
'Tis the soul of a warrior who sleeps with the slain;—
How long shall the slaughtered thus wander in vain?
It has past; through the gloom of the forest it flies,—
But I feel in my bosom its summons arise.

VII.

“Say, what are the races of perishing men?
They darken earth's surface, and vanish agen;
As the shade o'er the lake's gleaming bosom that flies,
With the stir of their wings where the wildfowl arise,

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That has past,—and the sunbeam plays bright as before,—
So speed generations, remembered no more;
Since earth from the deep, at the voice of the spirit,
Rose green from the waters,

See the first Note to Canto III. There are many varieties in the account of the creation, given by the Indians, all agreeing in the circumstance of the earth's emerging from the deep. It is unnecessary to quote them here.

with all that inherit

Its nature, its changes. The oaks that had stood
For ages, lie crumbling at length in the wood.
Where now are the race in their might who came forth,
To destroy and to waste, from the plains of the north?
As the deer through the brake, mid the forests they sped,
The tall trees crashed round them; earth groaned with their tread;
He perished, the Mammoth,—in power and in pride,

An Indian chief, of the Delaware tribe, who visited the Governor of Virginia, during the revolution, informed him “that it was a tradition handed down from their fathers, that in ancient times a herd of these tremendous animals came to the Bick-bone-licks, and began an universal destruction of the bear, deer, elk, buffalo, and other animals which had been created for the use of the Indians. That the great Man above, looking down and seeing this, was so enraged, that he seized his lightning, descended on the earth, seated himself on a neighbouring mountain, on a rock, (on which his seat and the prints of his feet are still to be seen,) and hurled his bolts among them, till the whole were slaughtered, except the big bull, who, presenting his forehead to the shafts, shook them off as they fell, but, missing one at length, it wounded him in the side, whereon, springing round, he bounded over the Ohio, the Wabash, the Illinois, and finally over the great lakes, where he is living at this day.”—

Jefferson's Notes.

And defying the wrath of Yohewah he died!

I have retained this word in the text, because it sounds well; and, for the purposes of poetry, it is of little consequence whether it be a significant word, or a mere series of guttural noises. Yo-he-woh, as it is written by Adair, is precisely the noise made by the sailors, when hauling together; and as the Indians used it during their most violent dances, it is likely that similar exertions produced similar sounds; the giving utterance to which, in some measure, alleviated the pain of the effort. No doubt an Indian, when chopping wood, makes the same sort of grunt that a white man does. In like manner, Allelujah, or the sound resembling it, which the Indians are said to utter, is no more to be derived from the Hebrew, than from the Greek ελελευ, or the Irish howl, Ullaloa, or the English Halloa.


And say, what is man, that his race should endure,
Alone through the changes of nature secure?
Where now are the giants, the soil who possest,

See the first chapter of Heckewelder's “Historical Account,” &c. The tradition of the Lenapé is, that when their fathers crost the Mississippi, they met, on this side of it, with a nation called Alligewi, from whom, the author says, the Alleghany river and mountains received their name. “Many wonderful things are told of this famous people. They are said to have been remarkably stout and tall, and there is a tradition that there were giants among them; people of a much larger size than the tallest of the Lenapé. It is related that they had built to themselves regular fortifications, or entrenchments, from whence they would sally out, but were generally repulsed.” Mr. H. describes two entrenchments he has seen. “Outside of the gateway of each of these two entrenchments, which lay within a mile of each other, were a number of large flat mounds, in which, the Indian pilot said, were buried hundreds of the slain Talligewi, whom I shall hereafter, with Col. Gibson, call Alligewi.” The traces of gigantic feet, in different parts of the country, mentioned in several books, are ascribed to this people in the text.


When our fathers came down, from the land of the west?

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The grass o'er their mounds and their fortresses waves,
And choaked amid weeds are the stones on their graves;
The hunter yet lingers in wonder, where keeps
The rock on the mountains the track of their steps;
Nor other memorial remains there, nor trace,
Of the proud Allegewi's invincible race.

VIII.

“As their nation was slain by the hands of our sires,
Our race, in its turn, from our country expires!
Lo! even like some tree, where a Spirit before

“Autrefois les Sauvages voisins de l'Acadie avoient dans leur Pays sur le bord de la Mer un Arbre extrémement vieux, dont ils racontoient bien des merveilles, et qu'on voyoit toujours chargé d'offrandes. La Mer ayant découvert toute sa racine, il se soutint encore longtems presqu'en l'air contre la violence des vents et des flots, ce qui confirma ces Sauvages dans la pensée qu'il étoit le siége de quelque grand Esprit: sa chute ne fut pas même capable de les détromper, et tant qu'il en parut quelque bout de branches hors de l'eau, on lui rendit les mêmes honneurs, qu'avoit reçûs tout l'Arbre, lorsqu'il étoit sur pied.”— Charlevoix, p. 349.

The simile of Lucan must occur to every classical reader:—

Qualis frugifero quercus sublimis in agro
Exuvias veteres populi, sacrata que gestans
Dona ducum; nec jam validis radicibus hærens,
Pondere fixa suo est; nudosque per aëra ramos
Effundens, trunco, non frondibus, efficit umbram.

Had dwelt, when rich garlands and offerings it bore,
But now, half uptorn from its bed in the sands,
By the wild waves encroaching, that desolate stands,
Despoiled of the pride of its foliage and fruit,
While its branches are naked, and bare is its root;—
And each surge that returns still is wearing its bed,
Till it falls, and the ocean rolls on overhead;—
Nor a wreck on the shore, nor a track on the flood,
Tells aught of the trunk that so gloriously stood,—

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Even so shall our nations, the children of earth,

See Mr. Heckewelder, chapter xxxiv. and Charlevoix, p. 344, and as before quoted, for the Indian ideas of the origin of mankind. The latter author mentions various and different accounts; one of which coincides with that of the former. According to both authors, the Indians only considered man as the first of animals. They had a future state for the souls of bears, &c. as well as for those of men. Mr. Heckewelder quotes this tradition from a MS. of the Reverend Christopher Pyrlæus: “That they [the Iroquois] had dwelt in the earth where it was dark, and where no sun did shine. That though they followed hunting, they ate mice, which they caught with their hands. That Gauawagahha, (one of them,) having accidentally found a hole to get out of the earth at, he went out, and that, in walking about on the earth, he found a deer, which he took back with him, and that, both on account of the meat tasting so very good, and the favourable description he had given them of the country above and on the earth, their mother, concluded it best for them all to come out; that accordingly they did so, and immediately set about planting corn, &c. That, however, the Nocharanorsul, that is, the ground hog, would not come out, but had remained in the ground as before.” For this reason, they would not eat this animal. Mr. Heckewelder says that this tradition is common to the Iroquois and Lenapé. It resembles the account given by Aeschilus, of the state in which Prometheus found mankind:

Οι πρωτα μεν βλιποντες εβλεπον ματην,
Κλυοντες ουκ ηκουον: αλλ' ονειρατων
Αλιγκιοι μορφαισι, τον μακρον χρονον
Εφυρον εικη παντα, κουτι πλινθυφεις
Δομους προσειλους ησαν, ου ξυλουργιαν:
Κατωρυχες δ' εναιον, ωστ' αησυροι
Μυρμηκες, αντρων εν μυχοις ανηλιοις. κ. τ. λ.

Return to that bosom that yielded them birth.
Ye tribes of the Eagle, the Panther, and Wolf!
Deep sunk lie your names in a fathomless gulf!
Your war-whoop's last echo has died on the shore;
The smoke of your wigwams is curling no more.
Mourn, land of my fathers! thy children are dead;
Like the mists in the sunbeam, thy warriors have fled!

IX.

“But a Spirit there is, who his presence enshrouds,
Enthroned on our hills in his mantle of clouds.
He speaks in the whirlwind; the river outpours
Its tribute to him, where the cataract roars.
His breath is the air we inhale; and his reign
Shall endure till the waters have triumphed again;
Till the earth's deep foundation convulsions shall heave,
And the bosom of darkness its fabric receive!
'Tis the spirit of freedom! and ne'er shall our grave
Be trod by the recreant, or spurned by the slave!

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And lo! as the vision of years rolls away,
When our tribes shall have past, and the victor hath sway,
That spirit I mark o'er the war-cloud presiding;
The storm that rolls upward sublime he is guiding;
It is bursting in terror; and choked is the path
Of peace, by the ruins it whelms in its wrath.
The rivers run blood; and the war-caldron boils,
By the flame of their cities, the blaze of their spoils.
Bend, bend from your clouds, and rejoice in the sight,
Ye ghosts of the red men! for freedom they fight!

X.

“Dim visions! why crowd ye so fast o'er my eyes,
In the twilight of days that are yet to arise?
Undefined are the shapes and the masses that sweep,
Like the hurricane clouds, o'er the face of the deep;
They rise like the waves on the surf-beaten shore,
But recede ere they form, to be gazed on no more.

158

Like the swarms of the doves o'er the meads that descend,

“We imbarqued and made towards a meadow, in the neighbourhood of which, the Trees were covered with that sort of Fowl, more than with Leaves: For just then 'twas the season in which they retire from the North Countries, and repair to the Southern Climates; and one would have thought that all the Turtle-Doves upon Earth had chose to pass through this place. For the eighteen or twenty days that we stay'd there, I firmly believe that a thousand men might have fed upon 'em heartily, without putting themselves to any trouble.”—

La Hontan, i. p. 62.

“L'antre Manne, dont j'ai parlé, est une espece de Ramiers, qui passent ici dans les mois de Mai et de Juin; on dit qu'autrefois ils obscurcissoient l'Air par leur multitude; mais ce n'est plus la même chose aujourd'hui. Il en vient encore néanmoins jusqu' aux environs des Villes un assez grand nombre se reposer sur les arbres. On les appelle communément Tourtes, et ils different en effet des Ramiers, des Tourterelles et des Pigeons d'Europe, assez pour en faire une quatriéme espece. Ils sont plus petits que nos plus gros Pigeons, dont ils ont les Yeux, et les Nuances de la Gorge. Leur Plumage est d'un brun obscur, a l'exception des Ailes, où il y a des plumes d'un très-bien Bleu. On diroit que ces Oiseaux ne cherchent qu'à se faire tuer; car s'il y a quelque Branche séche à un Arbre, c'est celle-là, qu'ils choisissent pour se percher, et ils se rangent de maniere, que le plus mal-adroit Tireur en peut abattre une demie douzaine au moins d'un seul coup de Fusil.”—

Charlevoix, p. 171.

From the north's frozen regions their course when they bend,
So quick o'er our plains is the multitude's motion;
Still the white sails gleam thick o'er the bosom of ocean;
As the foam of their furrows is lost in the sea,
So they melt in one nation, united and free!

XI.

“Mourn, land of my fathers! the red men have past,
Like the strown leaves of Autumn, dispersed by the blast!
Mourn, land of the victor! a curse shall remain,
Till appeased in their clime are the ghosts of the slain!
Like the plants that by pure hands of virgins alone
Must be plucked,

“L'on montre certaines Plantes fort salutaires, qui n'ont point de virtu, disent les Sauvages, si elles ne sont employeées par des mains vierges.”—

Id. 350.
or their charm and their virtue is gone,

So the fair fruits of freedom, souls only can taste,
That are stained by no crime, by no passion debased.

159

His nest where the foul bird of avarice

The Hawk. See a Note to the first Canto.

hath made,

The songsters in terror take wing from the shade;
And man, if unclean in his bosom the fire,
No holier spirits descend to inspire.
Mourn, land of the victor! our curse shall remain,
Till appeased for their wrongs be the souls of the slain!”

XII.

He ceased, and sunk exhausted down,
Strength, fire, and inspiration gone.
The fear-struck savages in vain
Await the unfolding voice again.
A panic terror o'er them ran,
As now their impious task began.
Their pyre was reared on stones that fell,
What time, their fathers' legends tell,
The avenging Spirit's fiery breath.
Had poured the withering storm of death

A superstition akin to this, is recorded in Carver's Travels, p. 30.


Along that field of blood and shame;
Where now, for ages past the same,
There grew no blade of cheerful green;
But sere and shivering trees were seen,

160

Blasted, and white with age, to stand,
Like spectres on the accursëd land.
Therewith, meet sacrifice of guilt,
Broad and high-reared, their pile was built.
And now their torch unclean they bear;
Long had they fed its light with care,
Stolen, where polluted walls were razed,

This being a sacrifice to evil spirits, its materials were supplied by the opposites to all that was esteemed holy. As it is founded in error and mistake, the following Notes are selected merely to show whence the ideas in the text were derived; and by no means to support them.

“The Indian women are remarkably decent during their periodical illness; those nations that are most remote from the European settlements, as the Nadowessies, &c. are more particularly attentive to this point; though they all without exception adhere in some degree to the same custom. In every camp or town there is an apartment appropriated for their retirement at this time, to which they retreat, and seclude themselves with the utmost strictness, during this period, from all society,” &c.—Carver. The rest of the passage with respect to the polluted fires is extracted in the Notes to Canto First. The author in another place, says, that these houses were fired, and immediately abandoned. See also M'kensie, Adair, &c.


And purifying flames had blazed.

XIII.

Swift o'er the structure climbs the fire;
In serpent course its streams aspire;
Entwined about their crackling prey,
Aloft they shoot with spiral way;
Wreathing and flashing fiercely round,
Their glittering net was mingling wound
O'er all the pile; but soon they blended;
One mighty volume then ascended,—
A column dense of mounting flame:—
Blacker the shrouded heaven became,
And like substantial darkness frowned
O'er the red atmosphere; around

161

The sands gave back the unnatural glare;
Lifting their ghostly arms in air,
Were seen those trunks all bleak and bare;
At distance rose the giant pine,
Kindling, as if by power divine,
Of fire a living tree;
While, where the circling forests sweep,
Each varying hue, or bright or deep,
Shone, as if raised o'er nature's sleep,
By magic's witchery.

XIV.

He who had marked the Pów-wahs then,

“The manner of their devotion was, to kindle large fires in their wigwams, or in the open fields, and to sing and dance round them in a wild and violent manner. Sometimes they would all shout aloud, with the most antic and hideous notes. They made rattles of shells, which they shook, in a wild and violent manner, to fill up the confused noise. Their priests, or powahs, led in these exercises. They were dressed in the most odd and surprising manner, with skins of odious and frightful creatures about their heads, faces, arms, and bodies. They painted themselves in the most ugly forms which could be devised. They sometimes sang, and then broke forth into strong invocations, with starts, and strange motions and passions. When these ceased, the other Indians groaned, making wild and doleful sounds. At these times they sacrificed their skins, Indian money, and the best of their treasures. These were taken by their Powahs, and all cast into the fires and consumed together. The English were also persuaded that they, sometimes, sacrificed their children, as well as their most valuable commodities. Milford people observing an Indian child, nearly at one of these times of their devotion, dressed in an extraordinary manner, with all kinds of Indian finery, had the curiosity to inquire what could be the reason. The Indians answered that it was to be sacrificed, and the people supposed that it was given to the devil. The Evil Spirit which the New-England Indians called Hobbam-ocko, [or Hobam-oqui] the Virginia Indians called Okee. So deluded were these unhappy people, that they believed these barbarous sacrifices to be absolutely necessary. They imagined that, unless they appeased and conciliated their gods in this manner, they would neither suffer them to have peace, nor harvests.” Trumbull, I. p. 49. The Historian of Connecticut, on the authority of Mather, and Purchas, thus assents to the popular belief with regard to the custom of human sacrifices among the Indians. In page 51, he has this passage,—“The stoutest and most promising boys were chosen, and trained up with peculiar care, in the observation of certain Indian rites and customs. They were kept from all delicious meats, trained to coarse fare, and made to drink the juice of bitter herbs, until it occasioned violent vomitings. They were beaten over their legs and shins with sticks, and made to run through brambles and thickets, to make them hardy, and, as the Indians said, to render them more acceptable to Hobbamocko.” This is undoubtedly the same custom mentioned in the previous extract; and is precisely that which prevailed among the Indians of Virginia, as seen by Captain John Smith, and which he thought was a sacrifice to the devil. His account is preserved in Purchas, and in the History of Virginia; and is explained in the latter book, by the ceremony of Huskanawing. See a Note to Canto First. Heckewelder calls it the Initiation of Boys; and Charlevoix, “getting a tutelary Genius,” iii. p. 346. See the notes to the Rev. Dr. Jarvis' Discourse; where most of the authorities on this subject are quoted. It is fully manifest, that there was no such thing as the sacrifice of children, among our Indians. The plot of the poem was hastily formed, when we had scarcely read any thing on the manners of the Indians, or even the history of the times. This ignorance led us, not only to introduce a rite, which never had any existence, but to ascribe to Philip a useless piece of treachery and cruelty, with scarcely any necessity for it, even in supporting the fiction. I have endeavoured to make the incantations consistent with themselves, and with the error we fell into. As originally written, by myself, they did not possess even that merit. It is unnecessary to quote more from the old writers on the New-England Indians, to show their belief on this subject. They all agree, pretty much in the same point. “'Tis an usual thing for them,” says Mather, “to have their Assemblies, wherein, after the usage of some Diabolical Rites, a Devil appears unto them, to inform them and advise them about their circumstances; and sometimes there are odd Events of their making these applications to the Devil. For instance, 'tis particularly affirmed, That the Indians in their wars with us, finding a sore inconvenience by our Dogs,—sacrificed a Dog to the Devil; after which no English Dog would bark at an Indian for divers months ensuing.”—Magnalia, iii. 192. What interpreter the Devil had on these occasions, does not appear. That he did not understand the Indian tongue, is manifest from what our author says himself, immediately after. “Once finding that the Dæmons in a possessed young Woman, understood the Latin and Greek and Hebrew Languages, my Curiosity led me to make Trial of this Indian Language, and the Dæmons did seem as if they did not understand it.” Daniel Gookin gives this account of the matter. “Their religion is as other gentiles are. Some for their God, adore the Sun; others the moon; some the earth; others the fire; and like vanities. [This is confounding the Spirits, or ministerial agencies, with the One Supreme Being, whom the Indians undoubtedly worshipped, as the writer goes on to say.] Yet generally they acknowledge One great supreme doer of good; and him they call Wonand, or Mannitt: another that is the great doer of evil or mischief; and him they call Mattand, which is the devil; and him they dread and fear, more than they love and honour the former chief good, which is God. There are among them certain men and women, whom they call powows. These are partly wizards and witches, holding familiarity with Satan, that evil one; and partly are physicians, and make use, at least in show, of herbs and roots, for curing the sick and diseased, &c. The powows are reputed, and I conceive justly, to hold familiarity with the devil; and therefore are, by the English laws, prohibited the exercise of their diabolical practices within the English jurisdiction, under the penalty of five pounds,—and the procurer, five pounds,—and every person present, twenty pence. Satan doth strongly endeavour to keep up this practice among the Indians, and these powows are lactors for the devil,” &c.— Gookin, p. 14.

Even Charlevoix believed in this absurd superstition. “Il est encore vrai que les Jongleurs rencontrent trop souvent juste dans leurs Prédictions, pour croire qu'ils devinent toujours par hazard, et qu'il se passe dans ces occasions des choses, qu'il n'est presque pas possible d'attribuer à aucun secret naturel. On a vû les pieux dont ces Etuves étoient fermées, se courber jusqu'a terre tandis que le Jongleur se tenoit tranquille, sans remuer, sans y toncher, qu'il chantoit, et qu'il prédisoit l'avenir. Les Lettres des anciens Missionaires sont remplies de faits, qui ne laissent aucun doute que ces Seducteurs n'ayent un veritable commerce avec le Pere de la seduction et du mensonge.”—III. 362.

Some writers, on the contrary, have gone too far, in asserting that the Indians had no knowledge of the Evil Spirit. The prophet, mentioned by Brainerd, who pretended to restore the ancient religion of the Indians, told him “that there was no such creature as the devil, known among the Indians of old times.” Baron La Hontan very drily remarks, “that, in speaking of the devil, they do not mean that Evil Spirit that in Europe is represented under the figure of a Man, with a long Tail, and great Horns and Claws.” His conclusion on the subject appears to be correct—“that these Ecclesiasticks, [Jugglers,] did not understand the true import of that great word, Matchi Manitou. For by the Devil they understand such things as are offensive to 'em, which, in our language, comes near to the signification of Misfortune, Fate, Unfavourable Destiny, &c.” It was to deprecate the wrath of these baleful agencies, and not to conciliate their friendship and court their alliance, that sacrifices were offered to them.— History of Virginia, 170. The Indian worship extended to all the objects of nature. The Spirits of groves, torrents, mountains, rivers and caves, had all their adorers and oblations. The minutest and most contemptible particle of matter, by the craft of the Juggler, or sickly fancy of the patient, became a genius, and was connected with a magic spell. How far their philosophy went, in the adoration of moral influences, seems more questionable; and, though they are said to be believers in destiny, their worship of Fate, which La Hontan seems to imply, is highly improbable. As to their Witchcraft, no doubt its professors may have pretended a familiarity with the powers of evil. Their tricks were as simple and ridiculous, and often as fatal, as those of the practisers of the Obeah art, among the negroes.


As round the pyre their rites begun,
Had deemed it no vision of mortal men,
But of souls tormented in endless pain,
Who for penance awhile to earth again
Had come to the scene where their crime was done.
No other robe by the band was worn,
Save their girdles rude from the otter torn;

“The Conjuror shaves all his Hair off, except the crest on the crown; upon his Ear he wears the Skin of some dark-colored Bird he, as well as the Priest, is commonly grim'd with Soot, or the like; he hangs an Otter skin at his girdle,” &c. “He has a black Bird; with expanded wings, fastened to his Ear.”— History of Virginia, 143, 183. “Les os et les Peaux des Serpens servent aussi beaucoup aux Jongleurs et aux Sorciers, pour faire leurs prestiges; et ils se font des bandeaux et des Ceintures de leurs Peaux.” “Un Jongleur paroit ensuite, ayant à la main un bâton orné de plumes, par le moyen duquel il se vantoit de deviner les choses les plus cachéés.”— Charlevoix. The chichicoe, or chichicou, is a rattle, made of different materials, sometimes of a gourd, &c. It generally formed the music of a powowing assembly, and is mentioned under the same name by many different writers. See Carver, Charlevoix, History of Virginia, &c. “He advanced toward me with the instrument in his hand, that he used for music in his idolatrous worship, which was a dry tortoise shell, with some corn in it; and the neck of it drawn on a piece of wood, which made a very convenient handle”— Brainerd's Diary. E. The mode of painting the bodies, described in the text, is mentioned by Carver and Charlevoix.


Below, besmeared with sable stain,
Above, blood-red was the fiendish train,

162

Save a circle pale around each eye,
That shone in the glare with a fiery die;
While a bird with coal-black wings outspread
Was the omen of ill on every head.
And wild their serpent tresses wound,
Unkempt and unconfined around;
For unpurified, since their vows, had been
Those ministers of rites unclean.
And one there was, round whose limbs was coiled
The scaly coat of a snake despoiled;
The jaws by his cheek that open stood,
Seemed clogged and dripping yet with blood.
With the rattling chichicoe he led,
Or swift, or slow, their measured tread;
And wildly flapped, the band among,
The dusky tuft from his staff that hung;
Where the hawk's, the crow's and raven's feather,
With the bat's foul wings were woven together.

XV.

Close by a couch, with mats o'erspread,
As if a pall that wrapt the dead,

163

Sat crouching one, who might beseem
The goblin crew of a monstrous dream;
For never did earthly creature wear
A shape like that recumbent there.
No hideous brute that starving sought
Some cavern's grisly womb, to rot,
Nor squalid want, in death forlorn,
Hath e'er such haggard semblance borne.
A woman once;

The Indian women are described as peculiarly addicted to the worship of evil spirits.— Charlevoix, pp. 359, 360.

—but now a thing

That seemed perverse to life to cling,
To rob the worm of tribute due;—
Her limbs no vesture covering,
No season's change, nor shame she knew.
Burnt on her withered breast she bore
Strange characters of savage lore;
And gathering up her bony frame,
As fiercely raged the mounting flame,
Not one proportion equal told
Of aught designed in nature's mould.
Her yellow eyeballs, bright with hate,
Rolled in their sunken sockets yet,

164

With sickly glare, as of charnel lamps
That glimmer from sepulchral damps.

XVI.

And now began the Initiates' dance;

The term “Initiate” is borrowed from Carver. He uses it, however, in reference to those who were admitted into “The Friendly Society of the Spirit.”—p. 175. He mentions, in the same place, the Pawwah, or Black Dance, by which the Devil was supposed to be raised. The Dances of the Indians are described in so many places, and their mode is so well known, that I shall only insert the note left by my friend, from the Diary of Brainerd.

“Lord's day, Sept. 21.—I spent the day with the Indians on the island. As soon as they were up in the morning, I attempted to instruct them, and laboured to get them together, but quickly found they had something else to do; for they gathered together all their powwows, and set about half a dozen of them to playing their tricks, and acting their frantic postures, in order to find out why they were so sickly, numbers of them being at that time disordered with a fever and bloody flux. In this they were engaged for several hours, making all the wild, distracted motions imaginable; sometimes singing, sometimes howling, sometimes extending their hands to the utmost stretch, spreading all their fingers, and seemed to push with them, as if they designed to fright something away, or at least keep it at arm's end; sometimes sitting flat on the earth; then bowing down their faces to the ground; wringing their sides, as if in pain and anguish; twisting their faces, turning up their eyes, grunting or puffing. These monstrous actions seemed to have something in them peculiarly suited to raise the devil, if he could be raised by any thing odd and frightful. Some of them were much more fervent in the business than others, and seemed to chant, peep, and mutter, with a great degree of warmth and vigor. I sat about thirty feet from them, (though undiscovered,) with my Bible in my hand, resolving, if possible, to spoil their sport, and prevent their receiving any answer from the infernal world.”

E.

Slow they recede, and slow advance;
Hand locked in hand, with footsteps slow,
About the ascending flame they go.
At first, in solemn movement led,
A chant low muttered they obeyed;
But shrill and quick as the measure grew,
Whirling about the pyre they flew,
In a dizzy ring, till their senses reeled,
And the heavens above them madly wheeled,
And the earth spun round, with its surface burning,
Like a thousand fiery circles turning.
Louder and wilder as waxed the tone,
They sever, in uncouth postures thrown;
They sink, they tower, and crouch, and creep,
High mid the darting fire they leap,
And with fearful prank and hellish game,
Disport, as buoyant on the flame.

165

Now terror seemed to freeze each heart,
As tremulous in every part,
With outstretched arms and wandering eyes,
They brave aërial enemies,
And combat with an unseen foe;
He seems to strike above, below;—
And fiercer grew the imagined fight,
Till every limb, convulsed and tight,
Showed the muscle strained, and swollen vein,
As of madman writhing in mortal pain.
With fury blind, they rolled around,
Impervious to the scorching ground,
And even within the glowing verge
Unconscious and unheeding urge.
The measure changes; ere its close,
Staggering the rout possessed arose;
Then pealed the loud hah-hah!

“Heh, heh, heh,—These notes, if they might be so termed, are articulated with a harsh accent, and strained out with the utmost force of their lungs.” “Whoo, Whoo, Whoop, is continued in a long, shrill tone, nearly till the breath is exhausted, and then broken off with a sudden elevation of the voice.”—

Carver, 172, 217.

Harsh, dissonant, in anguish heaved,
As if the soul, to be relieved,
In sound took wing afar.
Like laughter of exulting fiends,
The startling chorus wild ascends;

166

While the shrill whoop,—that had seemed to die
With the last breath of agony,
Then rose with its horrid shriek and long,—
Closed that disturbed, discordant song.
Then in the silence, you had thought
The dæmon coming whom they sought,
And from the sullen chichicoe,
Had heard his boding answer flow.

Song of the Pow-Wahs.

XVII.

“Beyond the hills the Spirit sleeps,

The sun was often worshipped as the visible God. In the most solemn sacrifices, the fire was sometimes kindled from his heat.—Carver, La Hontan, Vol. Second. The Hurons are said to have confounded Areskoui with the Sun.—Charlevoix. When the Sun has set, they say he is dead.—

Carver, Charlevoix, iii. 219. Adair, 76.

His watch the Power of evil keeps;
The Spirit of fire has sought his bed,
The Sun, the hateful Sun is dead.
Profound and clear is the sounding wave,
In the chambers of the Wakon-cave;

See a Note in Canto First, and on the “Wakon-Bird,” in the Notes to Canto Second.


Darkness its ancient portal keeps;
And there the Spirit sleeps,—he sleeps.

XVIII.

“Come round on raven pinions now,
Spirits of ill, to you we bow!

167

Whether ye sit on the topmost cliff,
While the storm around is sweeping,
Mid the thunder shock, from rock to rock
To view the lightning leaping;
As ye guide the bolt, where towers afar
The knotted pine to heaven,
And where it falls, your serpent scar
On the blasted trunk is graven:—

“Ces Peuples ne connoissent pas mieux la nature du Tonnerre; quelques uns le prenoient pour la voix d'une espéce particuliere d'Hommes, qui voloient dans les airs: d'autres disoient que ce bruit venoit de certains Oiseaux, qui leur étoient inconnus. Selon les Montaguais, c'etoit l'effort, que faisoit une Génie pour vomir une Couleuvre, qu'il avoit avalée; et ils appuyoient ce sentiment sur ce que, quand le Tonnerre étoit tombé sur un Arbre, on y voyoit une figure assez approchante de celle d'une Couleuvre.”—

Charlevoix, iii. 401.

The other superstitions referred to in this Stanza, being local, and some of them belonging, moreover, to the Hurons, are farfetched for an Incantation of the New-England Powaws.—Transeant cum cæteris. “Nearly half way between Saganaum Bay and the north-west corner of the Lake, lies another, which is termed Thunder Bay. The Indians, who have frequented these parts from time immemorial, and every European traveller that has passed through it, have unanimously agreed to call it by this name.”— Carver, 91. “One of the Chipeway chiefs told me that some of their people, being once driven on the island of Maurepas, found on it large quantities of heavy, shining, yellow sand, that, from their description, must have been gold dust. Being struck with the beautiful appearance of it, in the morning, when they re-entered their canoe, they attempted to bring some away; but a spirit, of an amazing size, according to their account, sixty feet in height, strode in the water after them, and commanded them to deliver back what they had taken away. Since this incident, no Indian that has ever heard of it, will venture near the same haunted coast.”— Idem, 85. This Island is known by the name of Manataulin, which signifies a Place of Spirits, and is considered by the Indians as sacred as those already mentioned in Lake Superior. Two small islands near Detroit were called ‘les Isles de Serpens à Sonnettes;’ Charlevoix says, “on assûre qu'elles sont tellement remplies de ces Animaux, que l'Air en est infecte.” Serpent worship was common to all the Indians, but more peculiarly cultivated among some nations, as the Malhomines.—

Charlevoix, 291.

Whether your awful voices pour
Their tones in gales that nightly roar;—
Whether ye dwell beneath the lake;
In whose depths eternal thunders wake,—
Gigantic guard the glittering ore,
That lights Maurepas' haunted shore,—
On Manataulin's lonely isle,
The wanderer of the wave beguile,—
Or love the shore where the serpent-hiss,
And angry rattle never cease,—
Come round on raven pinions now!
Spirits of evil! to you we bow.

168

XIX.

“Come ye hither, who o'er the thatch
Of the coward murderer hold your watch;

“Les Hurons étendoient le corps mort sur des Perches, au haut d'une Cabanne, et le Meurtrier étoit obligé de se tenir plusieurs jours de suite immédiatement au dessous, et de recevoir tout ce qui découloit de ce Cadavre, non-seulement sur soi, mais encore sur son manger, qu'on mettoit auprès de lui, à moins que par un présent considérable, fait à la Cabanne du Défunt il n'obtînt de garantir ses Vivres de ce Poison.”—

Charlevoix, iii. p. 274.

Moping and chattering round who fly
Where the putrid members reeking lie,
Piece-meal dropping, as they decay,
O'er the shuddering recreant day by day;
Till he loathes the food that is whelmed amid
The relics, by foul corruption hid;
And the crawling worms about him bred
Mistake the living for the dead!

XX.

“Come ye who give power
To the curse that is said,

“On a vû des Filles s'étrangler, pour avoir reçû une réprimande assez légere de leurs Meres, ou quelques gouttes d'Eau au Visage, et l'en avertir en lui disant, Tu n'auras plus de Fille.”—

Id. 226.

And a charm that shall wither
To the drops that are shed,
On the cheek of the maiden,
Who never shall hear
The kind name of Mother
Saluting her ear;

169

But sad as the turtle
On the bare branch reclining,
She shall sit in the desert,
Consuming and pining;
With a grief that is silent,
Her beauty shall fade,
Like a flower nipt untimely,
On its stem that is dead.

XXI.

“Come ye who as hawks hover o'er
The spot where the war club is lying,

As a commencement of hostilities, according to Heckewelder, the Indians murder one of the enemy, and leave the war club lying near the body; it is painted with their devices, that the party attacked may know their enemies, and not execute revenge on an innocent tribe.— Page 165.


Defiled with the stain of their gore,
The foemen to battle defying;
On your dusky wings wheeling above,
Who for vengeance and slaughter come crying;
For the scent of the carnage ye love,
The groans of the wounded and dying.

XXII.

“Come ye, who at the sick man's bed,

As before mentioned, sickness is always ascribed to the agency of some spirit, of whatever form the Juggler's fancy pleases, which must be driven out of the patient, before his recovery can be effected. If the force of imagination, in sickness, be duly considered, the practice of treating all diseases as cases of hypochondria, may not be so ridiculous, as the fantastic manœuvres of these quacks would, at first sight, imply.


Watch beside his burning head;

170

When the vaunting juggler tries in vain
Charm and fast to sooth his pain,
And his fever-balm and herbs applies,
Your death watch ye sound till your victim dies.

XXIII.

“And ye who delight
The soul to affright,

“Ils disent que l'Ame séparée du corps conserve les mêmes inclinations, qu'elle avoit auparavant, et c'est la raison pourquoi ils enterrent avec les Morts tout ce qui étoit a leur usage.” “Les Ames lorsque le tems est venu qu'elles doivent se séparer pour toujours de leurs corps, vont dans une Région, qui est destinée pour être leur demeure éternelle. Cette Région, disent les Sauvages, est fort éloignée vers l'Occident, et les Ames mettent plusieurs mois à s'y rendre. Elles ont même de grandes difficultés a surmonter, et elles courent de grands risques, avant que d'y arriver.” “Dans le Pays des Ames, selon quelques-uns, l'Ame est transformée en Tourterelle.”—

Charlevoix, pp. 351, 352.

When naked and lonely,
Her dwelling forsaken,
To the country of spirits
Her journey is taken;
When the wings of a dove
She has borrowed to fly,
Ye swoop from above,
And around her ye cry;
She wanders and lingers
In terror and pain,
While the souls of her kindred
Expect her in vain.

171

XXIV.

“By all the hopes that we forswear;
By the potent rite we here prepare;
By every shriek whose echo falls
Around the Spirits' golden walls;
By our eternal league made good;
By all our wrongs and all our blood;
By the red battle-axe uptorn;
By the deep vengeance we have sworn;
By the uprooted trunk of peace,
And by the wrath that shall not cease,
Where'er ye be, above, below,
Spirits of ill! we call ye now!

XXV.

“Not beneath the mantle blue
Spread below Yohewah's feet;

Sacrifices to good Spirits were made, when the sky was clear, the air serene, &c.—

La Hontan, ii. 31, 32.

Not through realms of azure hue
Incense breathing to his seat;
Not with fire, by living light
Kindled from the orb of glory;

172

Not with words of sacred might,
Taught us in our fathers' story;
Not with odours, fruit or flower,
Thee we summon, dreadful Power!
Power of darkness! Power of ill!
Present in the heart and will,
Plotting, despite of faith and trust,
Treason, avarice, murder, lust!
From caverns deep of gloom and blood,
Attend our call, O serpent God!

This is one of the forms under which the Indians supposed the Evil Spirit to appear. “Another power they worship whom they call Hobbamock, and to the northward of us Hobbamoqui; this as farre as wee can conceive is the devill; him they call upon to cure their wounds and diseases. This Hobbomock appears in sundry formes unto them, as in the shape of a man, a deare, a fawne, an eagle, &c., but most ordinarily as a Snake.”— Winslow's ‘Good News from New-England,’ Anno 1622, in Purchas, iv. p. 1867. And see ante, Notes on this Canto.


Thee we summon by our rite,
Hobamóqui! Power of night!

XVI.

“Behold the sacrifice!
A harmless infant dies,
To whet thine anger's edge;
A Christian woman's pledge,
Begot by Indian sire,
Ascends thy midnight pyre.
For thy friendship, for our wrongs,
To thee the child belongs.”

173

XVII.

Did the fiend hear and answer make?
Above them loud the thunders break;
The livid lightning's pallid hue
Their dusky canopy shone through;
Then tenfold blackness gathering far
Presaged the elemental war.
While yet in air the descant rung,
Upward the listening priestess sprung,
By instant impulse; as if yet
The spirit of her youth survived,
As if from that lethargic state,
Quickened by power vouchsafed, she lived.
She tore the sable mats away,
And there Yamoyden's infant lay,
By potent opiates lulled to keep
The silence of the dreamless sleep,
O'er which that night should sink;
Swathed in the sacrificial vest,
Its bier the unconscious victim prest.
The hag's long, shrivelled fingers clasp
The babe in their infernal grasp,

174

While o'er the fiery brink,
Rapidly, giddily she hurls
The child, as her withered form she whirls;
And chants, with accents hoarse and strong,
The last, the dedicating song.

Song of the Priestess

XXVIII.

“The black clouds are moving
Athwart the dull moon,
The hawks high are roving,

“Before a thunder-shower these birds [night-hawks] are seen at an amazing height in the air, assembled together in great numbers.”—

Carver.

The strife shall be soon.
Then burst thou deep thunder!
Pour down all ye floods!
Ye flames rive in sunder
The pride of the woods!
But O thou! who guidest
The flood and the fire,
In lightning who ridest,
Directing its ire;—
If darker to-morrow
The wrath of the strife,

175

Be the white man's the sorrow,
And thine be his life!
The elk-skin about him,
The crow-skin above,

It has been already mentioned, that the skin of some dark coloured bird was made use of at all conjurations. The Elk-skin was also employed, according to Carver and others. Charlevoix says that it was always considered a good omen, to dream of the Elk.


To thee we devote him,
The pledge of mixed love.
For ever and ever
The slaves of thy will,
Let ours be thy favour,
O Spirit of ill!”

XXIX.

She had not ceased, when on the blast
A warning shriek of horror past;
Emerging from the woodland gloom,
They saw a form unearthly come.
White were its locks, its robes of white,
And gleaming through their lurid light,
Swift it advanced. The Pów-wahs stood,
Palsied amid their rites of blood;
E'en the stern Prophet feared to trace
The awful features of that face,

176

And shrunk, as if toward their flame
Yohewah's angry presence came.

XXX.

He grasped the witch by her skinny arm,
Her powerless frame confessed the charm;
Before his bright, indignant glance,
Her eyes were fixed in terror's trance.
“Away,” the stranger cried, “away!
Votaries of Moloch! yield your prey!
Have ye not heard the wrath on high
Speak o'er your foul iniquity?
Know ye not, for such worship fell,
Deep yawns the eternal gulf of hell?”
Then, bursting from his dream of fear,
To front the intruder rushed the SEER,—
When straight, o'er all the vaulted heaven,
Kindled and streamed the glittering levin;
Pale and discoloured shone below
The embers in that general glow,
As blind amid the blaze they reel,
Rattled and crashed the deafening peal;

177

And with its voice so long and loud,
Fell the burst torrent from the cloud;
It dashed impetuous o'er the pile;
The hissing waters rave and boil;
The smothered fires a moment soar,
Spread their swarth glare the forest o'er,
Then sink beneath their whelming pall,
And total darkness covers all.

XXXI.

O many a shriek of horror fell,
Amid that darkness terrible,
Unlit, save by the lightning's flash,
And echoing with the tempest crash
Those stifled screams of fear;
They deem in every bursting peal
The avenging Spirits' rage they feel,
And crouching, shuddering hear.
While ever and anon ascended
The dying Priestess' maddened cry,—
With muttering curses fearful blended
It rose convulsed on high.

178

And when their palsying dread was gone,
And a dim brand recovered shone,
And when they traced by that sad light
The scene of their unfinished rite,
And many a look uncertain cast,
The STRANGER and the CHILD had past.