Specimens of American poetry :: :: University of Virginia Library

“After devotions thus to Heaven paid,
Up to the enemy our armies led,
Silent as the riphean snow doth fall,
Or fishes walk in Neptune's spacious hall.

Now Lucifer had just put out his head,
To call Aurora from old Tithon's bed.
Whereat the troops of the approaching light,
Began to beat the reg'ments of the night.

But Morpheus, with his unperceived bands,
Had clos'd the Pequots' eyes, and chain'd their hands.
All lay asleep, save one sagacious wretch,
Who destin'd was to stand upon the watch.
Firm to his charge, with diligence he applies,
And looks around with fierce lyncean eyes.
When our avant couriers he espy'd,
Opening his lungs aloud, ‘Auwunux!’ cry'd.”

“Auwunux,” said our king, “what does that mean?”
“It signifies,” said Winthrop, “Englishmen.

The startling news doth every soldier rouse,
Each arms and hastens to his rendezvous.
Meantime the English did the fort attach
And in the same had opened a breach,
Through which our brave Alcides enter'd first,
In after whom his valiant soldiers thrust.

Before the breach an unappalled band
Of warlike Pequots, with bow and arrows stand.
With cheerful accents these themselves confirm,
To die like men, or to outface the storm.
Then gallantly the English they assail,
With winged arrows, like a shower of hail.
These ours endure; and with like violence,
Sent lead and sulphur back in recompense.

And now the sight grew more and more intense,
Each violent death enflames the violence.
Charge answered charge, and shout reply'd to shout;
Both parties like enraged furies fought;

Till death, in all its horrid forms appears,
And dreadful noise keeps clamoring in our ears.

Now as some spacious rivers in their way,
By which they travel onwards to the sea,
Meet with some mighty precipice, from whence,
Enrag'd, they throw themselves with violence
Upon the stubborn rocks that lie below,
To make disturbance in the way they go.
Here, though the fury of the fray doth make
The near adjacent rocks and mountains quake,
Still the remorseless stream keeps on its course,
Nor will abate a moment of its force,
But rather hastens by impetuous facts
To throw itself into those cataracts.

And so it happened with our soldiers here,
Whose fortune 'twas to travel in the rear.
The combatings of these within the breaches,
With dreadful noise their listening ears attaches;
And from their foes, and from their brethren,
Loud cries of fighting and of dying men.

Sense of the danger doth not them affright,
But rather proves a motive to excite
The martial flame in every soldier's breast,
And on they like enraged lions prest;
Determined upon the spot to die,
Or from the foe obtain the victory.

Now fortune shows to the beholders' sight,
A very dreadful, yet a doubtful fight;
Whilst mighty men, born in far distant land,
Stood foot to foot, engaging hand to hand.

As when some mighty tempests that arise,
Meet with embattled fury in the skies:
Fire balls of lightnings and loud thunders rend
And tear the raging parties that contend.

So did the fury of these mighty foes,
With which they did each others' force oppose,
Bring on such ruins as might daunt with fears
The hearts of any men, excepting theirs.

Never did Pequots fight with greater pride;
Never was English valor better tried.
Never was ground soak'd with more gallant blood
Than the aceldama whereon we stood.
Sometimes one party victory soon expect,
As soon their eager hopes are countercheck'd.
And those that seem'd as conquered before,
Repel with greater force the conqueror.
Three times the Pequots seemed to be beat:

As many times they made their foes retreat.
And now our hope and help for victory,
Chiefly depended from the arm on high.

As when Euroclydon the forest rends,
The bigger oaks fall down, the lesser bends
The beaten limbs and leaves before him scour,
Affrighted and enforced by his power;
To some huge rock, whose adamantine brow,
Outbraves the fury of all winds that blow;
There hoping to be hid from the high charge
Of fierce pursuers, by his mighty verge.
The winds in pressing troops demand surrender,
Of the pursued, and boisterous storm and thunder;
But he browbeats, and masters all their pride,
And sends them roaring to the larboard side.

So Mason here, most strongly dress'd in arms,
Reanimates his men, their ranks reforms;
Then leading on, through deaths and dangers goes,
And beats the thickest squadrons of the foes.

Prince Mononotto sees his squadrons fly,
And on our general having fix'd his eye,
Rage and revenge his spirits quickening,
He set a mortal arrow in the string.

Then to his god and fathers' ghosts he pray'd,
‘Hear, O immortal powers, hear me,’ he said;
‘And pity Mistick, save the tottering town,
And on our foes hurl dreadful vengeance down.
Will you forsake your altars and abodes,
To those contemners of immortal gods?
Will those pay hecatombs unto your shrine,
Who have deny'd your powers to be divine?
O favor us; our hopes on you are built;
But if you are mindful of our former guilt,
Determine final ruin on us all;
Yet let us not quite unrevenged fall.
Here I devote this of our enemies
His precious life to you a sacrifice.
Nor shall I covet long to be alive,
If such a mischief I might once survive.
But, O indulgent, hearken to my prayer;
Try us once more; this once the city spare:
And take my gift, let your acceptance be
An omen we shall gain the victory.’

That very instant Mason did advance,
Whereat rage interrupts his utterance;

Nor could he add a word to what was said,
But drew the winged arrow to the head:
And aiming right, discharg'd it; whereupon
Its fury made the piercing air to groan.

But wary Mason, with his active spear,
Glanced the prince's arrow in the air:
Whereat the Pequots, quite discouraged,
Threw down the gauntlet, and from battle fled.

Mason, swift as the chased roe on foot,
Outstrips the rest in making the pursuit.
Entering the palace, in a hall he found
A multitude of foes, who gather'd round
This mighty man, on every side engag'd
Like bears bereaved of their whelps enrag'd.

One finding such resistance where [OMITTED]
His mind, his weapons and his eyes [OMITTED]
Their boldness much his martial sprite provokes,
And round he lays his deep inveterate strokes.
Making his sword at each enforced blow
Send great soul'd heroes to the shades below.

But as when Hercules did undertake
A doubtful combat with the Lernian snake,
Fondly propos'd, if he cut off her head,
The monster might with ease be vanquished.

But when he the experiment did make,
Soon to his hazard found his dear mistake,
And that as often as he cut off one,
Another instantly sprang in its room.

[OMITTED]

After so many deaths and dangers past,
Mason was thoroughly enflam'd at last:
He snatch'd a blazing bavin with his hand,
And fir'd the stately palace with the brand.
And soon the towering and rapacious flame
All hope of opposition overcame.
Eurus and Notus readily subjoin
Their best assistance to this great design;
Drive pitchy flames in vast enfoldings down,
And dreadful globes of fire along the town.

And now the English army marched out,
To hem this flaming city round about;
That such as strived to escape the fire,
Might by the fury of their arms expire.

But O what language or what tongue can tell,
This dreadful emblem of the flames of hell!
No fantasy sufficient is to dream,
A faint idea of their woes extreme.

Some like unlucky comets do appear,
Rushing along the streets with flagrant hair:
Some seeking safety clamber up the wall,
Then down again with blazing fingers fall.
In this last hour of extremity,
Friends and relations met in company;
But all in vain, their tender sympathy
Cannot allay, but makes their misery.
The paramour here met his amorous dame,
Whose eye had often set his heart in flame:
Urg'd with the motives of her love and fear,
She runs and clasps her arms about her dear:
Where weeping on his bosom as she lies,
And languisheth, on him she sets her eyes;
Till those bright lamps do with her life expire,
And leave him weltering in a double fire.

The fair and beauteous bride, with all her charms,
This night lay melting in her bridegroom's arms.
This morning in his bosom yields her life,
While he dies sympathizing with his wife.
In love, relation, and in life the same,
The same in death, both die in the same flame.
Their souls united, both at once repair
Unto their place appointed through the air.

The gracious father here stood looking on
His little brood with deep affection;
They round about him at each quarter stands,
With piteous looks, each lifts his little hands
To him for shelter, and then nearer throng,
Whilst piercing cries for help flow from each tongue.
Fain would he give their miseries relief,
Though with the forfeiture of his own life:
But finds his power too short to shield off harms,
The torturing flame arrests them in his arms.
The tender mother with like woes opprest,
Beholds her infant frying at her breast;
Crying and looking on her, as it fries;
Till death shuts up its heart affecting eyes.

The conquering flame long sorrows doth prevent,
And vanquish'd life soon breaks imprisonment.
Souls leave their tenements, gone to decay,
And fly untouched through the flames away.
Now all with speed to final ruin haste,
And soon this tragic scene is overpast.
The town, its wealth, high battlements and spires,
Now sinketh, weltering in conjoining fires.

The general commands the officers with speed,

To see his men drawn up and martialed:
Which being done, they wheel the ranks,
And kneeling down, to Heaven all gave thanks.

By this Aurora doth with gold adorn
The ever beauteous eyelids of the morn;
And burning Titan his exhaustless rays,
Bright in the eastern horizon displays;
Then soon appearing in majestic awe,
Makes all the starry deities withdraw;
Veiling their faces in deep reverence,
Before the throne of his magnificence.

And now the English their red cross display,
And under it march bravely toward the sea;
There hoping in this needful hour to meet
Ample provisions coming with the fleet.

Meantime came tidings to Sasacus' ears,
That Mistick town was taken unawares.
Three hundred of his able men he sent,
With utmost haste its ruin to prevent:
But if for that they chance to come too late,
Like harms on us they should retaliate.

These, with loud outcries, met us coming down
The hill, about three furlongs from the town;
Gave us a skirmish, and then turn'd to gaze
Upon the ruin'd city yet on blaze.

But when they saw this doleful tragedy,
The sorrow of their hearts did close their eye:
Silent and mute they stand, yet breathe out groans;
Nor Gorgon's head like this transforms to stones.
Here lay the numerous bodies of the dead;
Some frying, others almost calcined:
All dolefully imprison'd underneath
The dark and adamantine bars of death.

But mighty sorrows never are content,
Long to be kept in close imprisonment;
When once grew desperate, will not keep under,
But break all bands of their restraint asunder.
And now with shrieks the echoing air they wound,
And stamp'd and tore and curst the suffering ground.
Some with their hands tore off their guiltless hair,
And throw up dust and cinders in the air.
Thus with strange actions and horrendous cries,
They celebrate these doleful obsequies.
At length revenge so vehemently doth burn,
As caused all other passions to adjourn.
Alecto raves and rates them in the ear,
‘O sensless cowards, to stand blubbering here!

Will tears revive these bodies of the slain,
Or bring their ashes back to life again?
Will tears appease their mighty ghosts, that are
Hoping to be revenged, hovering here?
Surely expecting you will sacrifice
To them the lives of those their enemies:
And will you baffle them thus by delay,
Until the enemy be gone away?
O cursed negligence!’ And then she strips,
And jirks and stings them with her scorpion whips;
Until with anger and revenge they yell,
As if the very fiends had broke up hell.
That we shall die, they all outrageous swear,
And vomit imprecations in the air:
Then, full speed! with ejulations loud,
They follow us like an impetuous cloud.

Mason, to stop their violent career,
Rallies his company anew to war;
Who finding them within a little space,
Let fly his blunderbusses in their face.
Thick sulphurous smoke makes the sky look black,
And heaven's high galleries thunder with the crack.
Earth groans and trembles, and from underneath,
Deep vaulted caverns horrid echoes breathe.

The volley that our men first made,
Struck down their stout file leaders dead.
To see them fall, a stupifying fear
Surpris'd and stop'd their soldiers in the rear:
The numerous natives stop'd, and fac'd about;
Whereat the conquering English gave a shout.
At which they start, and through the forest scour,
Like trembling hinds that hear the lions roar.

Back to great Sasacus they now return again;
And of their loss they thus aloud complain,
‘Sir, 'tis in vain to fight: The fates engage
Themselves for those with whom this war we wage.
We Mistick burning saw, and 'twas an awful sight;
As dreadful are our enemies in fight:
And the loud thunderings that their arms did make,
Made us, the earth, yea heaven itself, to shake.’

Very unwelcome to Sasacus' ears
Were these misfortunes, and his subject's fears:
Yet to his men, the English he contemns,
And threats to ruin us with stratagems.
And now his thoughts ten thousand ways divide,
And swift through all imaginations glide.
Endless projections in his head he lays,
Deep policies and stratagems he weighs.

Sometimes he thinks, he'll thus the war maintain,
Reviews the scheme, and throws it by again:
Now thus, or thus, concludes 'tis best to do;
But neither thus, nor thus, on the review.
And thus his mind on endless projects wanders,
Till he is lost in intricate meanders.
At last gives up the case as desperate,
And sinks, bewailing his forlorn estate.

He and his people quite discouraged,
Now leave their seats, and towards Monhattons fled.
But in his way the English sword o'ertakes
His camp, and in it sad massacres makes.
Yet he escap'd, and to the Mohawks goes,
Where he to them keeps reckoning up his woes:
And they to cure the passions of his breast,
Cut off his head, and all his cares released.