University of Virginia Library

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;

153

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,

154

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?

155

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,—

156

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!

157

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.