 | Powhatan |  |
101
CANTO FIFTH.
I.
December's sun is pale and low,Chilly and raw the north winds blow,
Dark threatening clouds are floating by,
And Jamestown's sons with sadden'd eye
Look out upon the dreary wild
Of woods and waters, where exiled,
And distant far from friends and home,
They see the storms of winter come.
One half their number they had lost,
Since on this wild and desert coast
They first set foot; and ere the spring
Fresh fruits and flowers again would bring,
They felt that others too must fall:
For though their number was but small,
Their store of food was smaller still;
And oft this thought a deadly chill
Sent to each heart: they saw the hour
Was coming soon, when famine's power
102
On the cold earth by autumn's blast.
But mid this gloom and prospect dread,
That o'er all hearts a sadness shed,
No matter by what foe assail'd,
Sir John's brave spirit never quail'd.
Early and late he knew no rest;
He nursed the sick, sooth'd the distress'd,
Cheer'd the despairing, and anon,
With gun in hand, away has gone
To seek the wild duck on the wave,
Or game within the darksome wood,
The famish'd colonists to save,
And spread their common board with food.
II.
One morning early, while the grayAnd sleeping mist on the river lay,
Ere yet the sun from his ocean bed
Had tinged the distant hills with red,
In quest of game Sir John had gone
Far down the river vale alone;
And standing on a gentle height
He view'd the silver winding James—
What vision glances on his sight?
What sudden fire his cheek inflames?
Is that a sail? Is that a ship,
103
With straining eye and parted lip,
He breathless stands, with moveless limb,
And throws his eager look afar,
Like the quick shooting of a star.
A sail? a ship? He looks again—
It is, it is—he sees it plain;
He sees the sails, he sees the hull,
An English flag at mast-head flies:
And now his throbbing heart is full,
And tears are crowding to his eyes;
Those eyes which had not known a tear,
Before this hour, for many a year.
III.
With a light heart, and step as light,He soon retraced his homeward route,
And there the ship was full in sight,
And all the colonists were out
And gazing off upon the river.
With pious thankfulness some lift
Their eyes and hands to the great Giver
Of every good and perfect gift;
Some, wild with joy, run here and there,
Grasping each other's eager hand;
Some with quick motion beat the air,
And some like moveless statues stand.
104
And now she rides abreast the town;
The sailors up the shrouds have gone,
The ponderous anchor plunges down,
And curbs her gently to the breeze,
Like a proud steed that feels the bit;
And now she heads the rippling seas,
And her furling sails on the long yards flit.
A light boat launches from the shore,
Each oarsman nimbly plies his oar
Across the waters, bright and clear.
The tall ship rapidly they near,
And soon, half lost to view, they glide
To the deep shadow of her side,
Where the rocking boat seems but a speck;
Man after man mounts to the deck,
And here Sir John with joyous smile
Greets Newport from Britannia's isle.
IV.
A thousand questions now are ask'd,And a thousand answers given;
Sir John tells how with savages,
And famine, he has striven;
How in his light and open barge,
With scarce a dozen men,
He had scour'd the mighty Chesapeake,
105
And up the rivers from the bay
To where the waters fall,
And seen the wild and warlike tribes,
And dared the power of all.
V.
Then Captain Newport told what joyKing James's heart had known,
That such a goodly land as this
Was added to his throne;
And that to make the savage tribes
With English power content,
To their great chieftain, Powhatan,
King James by him had sent
Rich, royal presents, such as kings
Of power and dignity
Might to a royal brother make;
Gold rings, rich cutlery,
A robe of state of finest woof
And of a scarlet red,
And a sparkling crown thick-set with gems,
Fit for a monarch's head.
And as the kings had worn no crowns
As yet in this new land,
It was King James's special will,
And thus he gave command,
106
This kingly crown should see
Placed on the head of Powhatan
With due solemnity.
Now on the shore in merry bands
Light-hearted sailors roam,
And listening ears of colonists
Are fill'd with news from home.
VI.
The council-hall of PowhatanIn quietness was closed;
And in his warmer winter lodge
The aged chief reposed:
And when the piercing northwest wind
The crevices came through,
He closer drew his robe of fur,
And fed his fire anew.
And when upon his cabin wall
His glowing fire grew bright,
And brighter still, betokening
The coming on of night,
The monarch took his usual round
Through hall and lodge and yard,
To see that all was well secured,
And set his nightly guard.
First to the east and then the west
107
The trees were rocking in the wind,
Dark clouds were in the sky,
And well the experienced monarch saw
In their motion and their form,
And heard along the groaning hills,
The spirit of the storm.
VII.
And as he look'd, and as he turn'd,He saw a pale-face man—
How quick the leaping blood went through
The veins of Powhatan!
Changed in an instant was his form,
From a feeble man and old,
Slow moving in his furry robe,
To a warrior stout and bold.
His outer cloak was dash'd aside,
And left his shoulders bare;
No more he heard the whistling wind
Or felt the biting air;
His buskin'd feet were planted firm,
His heavy club swung light,
And had a thousand foes been there,
He was ready for the fight.
That pale-face man came out alone
From the moaning woods' deep shade,
108
Nor hostile sign display'd;
But with a fearless air came up,
And with a stately stride,
And Powhatan and brave Sir John
Were standing side by side.
And now within the inner lodge
Together they retire,
And on the monarch's furry couch
Sit by the glowing fire.
No word or look from Powhatan
Betray'd his secret thought,
Nor deign'd he to inquire what cause
His visiter had brought;
But sat and look'd him in the face
His guest's deep thoughts to scan,
Until Sir John the silence broke,
And thus his speech began.
VIII.
‘Great werowance, I come to bring‘A greeting kind and true
‘From great King James beyond the sea,
‘Who sends good-will to you.
‘He is a king all terrible,
‘With ships and wealth and power,
‘Sufficient to o'erwhelm your tribes
109
‘Let Manahocks and Manakins
‘And Powhatans combine,
‘They could not stand one day before
‘This mighty king of mine.
‘But yet his love to Powhatan
‘Is brotherly and pure;
‘And as a token that it will
‘Forever warm endure,
‘He sends you rich and royal gifts,
‘A robe of scarlet red,
‘A sparkling crown thick-set with gems,
‘Fit for a monarch's head,
‘And other presents rich and rare,
‘As you shall see and know,
‘When to be crown'd in solemn form
‘To Jamestown you shall go.
‘He sent them in a mighty ship
‘By a captain of the sea,
‘Who has commission from our king,
‘In company with me,
‘To place the crown upon your head,
‘A deed to great kings done
‘In all the lands beyond the sea
‘To the rising of the sun.
‘And Captain Newport waits to know
‘What day you will be there,
110
‘We duly may prepare.’
IX.
Proudly the monarch raised his head,And proudly turn'd his eye
Upon the spoils of many wars,
And scalps that hung on high;
And then his trusty bow and club
He haughtily survey'd,
And thus with stately air and tone
His brief reply he made.
‘If such rare presents have been sent
‘From your great king to me,
‘Remember too, I am a king,
‘And all this land you see,
‘And all these woods and groves are mine,
‘And the mighty rivers too,
‘That pour down from the mountain sides
‘And glide these valleys through.
‘And thirty tribes with all their chiefs
‘Their homage pay to me,
‘And fight my battles when I call—
‘Your captain of the sea
‘Should better know the place he fills:
‘His presents to bestow,
111
‘To him I shall not go.’
X.
Sir John knew well the monarch's prideAnd firm unbending will,
And well he knew 'twere vain to seek
His purpose to fulfil;
He therefore urged his suit no more,
But at the chief's request,
Consented to abide till morn,
And in his lodge to rest.
And soundly slept Sir John that night
Upon his deer-skin bed,
With hand upon his broadsword hilt
And pistol by his head.
And the first red morning ray that came,
Bright gleaming o'er the plain,
Beheld him on the forest route
To Jamestown's homes again.
XI.
A week of winter storms had pass'd,And brighter days now shone,
And Powhatan no longer sat
In his winter lodge alone,
112
Among his warriors bold;
And all his chiefs were gather'd there,
A council-talk to hold.
And long about those royal gifts
They talk'd with solemn air;
Gifts from a land beyond the sea,
Which only kings might wear;
And many questions had been raised,
And many doubts remain'd,
What secret charm for good or ill
Those wondrous gifts contain'd.
But ere those doubts were half resolved,
While yet the talk went on,
One of the outer guard rush'd in,
Exclaiming that Sir John
And fifty of his pale-face tribe,
All marching in a file
Across the woods, with shining arms,
Were now within a mile
Of the council-hall. An instant fire
Flash'd from each warrior's eye,
But there was no tumultuous rush,
No shout or battle-cry;
With knitted brow and silent step
Each seized his club and bow,
And girded on his scalping-knife:
113
A hundred warriors arm'd for death,
And led by their great king,
Before the council-hall appear,
And wait what fate may bring.
XII.
And soon the pale-face men came out,And halted by the wood,
Their bright guns gleaming in their hands,
Facing the hall they stood,
While brave Sir John, like an armed knight,
March'd forward and alone,
And his errand and his company
To Powhatan made known.
He told him that his men had come
King James's gifts to bear,
And that the captain of the sea
Stood with his warriors there;
And all things were in readiness,
If it pleased his sovereign will,
The high behest of great King James
In the crowning to fulfil.
A sharp glance then the monarch sent
To the borders of the wood,
And ask'd Sir John to point him out
Where that sea-captain stood,
114
He fix'd his eagle ken,
To learn if that strange captain look'd
Like other pale-face men.
At last the monarch gave consent
For the gifts to be convey'd
To the council-hall: but only four
Of the armed men should aid
The captain and Sir John; the rest
Should strictly be compell'd
To stay beside the distant wood,
While the royal rite was held.
XIII.
And now within the council-hall,And by the monarch's throne,
Around in rich profusion spread,
The royal presents shone.
There stood Sir John with four arm'd men,
And the captain of the sea,
But the monarch's warriors in the hall
Were a hundred men and three.
The queens of twenty tribes appear,
And in their midst they bring
Two maidens bright to grace the scene,
The daughters of the king.
And there in his great dignity
115
In the broad circle that was made
Around the monarch's throne;
And while his people peer'd and press'd
Those splendid gifts to see,
He never moved his princely eyes,
But kept his dignity.
And when Sir John the signal gave
For the monarch to come down,
And, standing by the throne, receive
The robe of state and crown,
With motion slow and lofty air
He stepp'd upon the floor,
And as he pass'd, with careless eye
He glanced the presents o'er.
XIV.
Then took Sir John the robe of stateAnd gave it to the king;
And now with look of majesty
He eyed the curious thing;
And felt it o'er and o'er again—
As soft and fine it seems
As any beaver's fur that lives
Beside his woodland streams.
And much the color fills his eye;
A shade so pure and bright,
116
Had never met his sight.
And now the captain and Sir John
The robe of state unfold,
With outstretch'd arms and lifted hands
Aloft the fabric hold;
And while the monarch's noble form
They wrap the vesture round,
Its many broad and shining folds
Sweep gracefully the ground.
Stately the monarch walks the hall
And turns from side to side,
And all his men and warriors stand
And look with awe and pride.
XV.
Then Newport lifted up the crown,With sparkling gems that shone,
And told the monarch to kneel down
With hand upon the throne;
For this mysterious, sacred thing
Was a type of sovereignty,
And all great kings that had been crown'd,
Were crown'd on bended knee.
A strange look then the monarch gave
To the captain of the sea,
As though he comprehended not
117
And Newport long confronted him
With arguments profound,
To make him understand that kings
Must kneel when they are crown'd.
But still the monarch could not see
The force of what he said,
And to his labor'd argument
He gravely shook his head.
His iron knee had never learn'd
To any power to bow,
And 'twas not all the kings on earth
Could make him bend it now.
But glancing round upon his men,
Unbending still he stood,
Powhatan having refused to go to Jamestown to receive the royal presents which Newport had brought from King James, it was decided that Newport and Smith should go to his residence with a file of men, and invest him with the robe of state and crown agreeably to King James's request. A brief account of the ceremony is given in the quaint language of Captain Smith, as follows.
“The presents were sent by water, and the captains went by land with fifty good shot. All being met at Werowocomoco, the next day was appointed for his coronation. Then the presents were brought in, his bason and ewer, bed and furniture set up, his scarlet cloak and apparell with much adoe put on him, being perswaded by Namontack they would not hurt him. But a foule trouble there was to make him kneele to receive his crowne, he neither knowing the majesty nor meaning of a crowne, nor bending of the knee, endured so many perswasions, examples, and instructions, as tyred them all. At last, by leaning hard on his shoulders, he a little stooped, and three having the crowne in their hands put it on his head.”
Upright in native dignity,
Like an old oak of the wood.
This trouble vex'd exceedingly
The captain of the sea,
Who tried by every art to gain
Some slight bend of the knee,
That he on his return might tell
King James, and tell him true,
That Powhatan unto the crown
Had paid the homage due.
But all in vain; the more he strove,
The firmer stood the king:
118
Could no compliance bring,
Till on his shoulders both his hands
With gentle force he laid,
And pressing forward, thought he saw
The monarch bend his head.
‘It is enough,’ the captain said;
‘To bow the head, or knee,
‘With equal honor vindicates
‘The type of sovereignty;’
And then upon that lofty brow
He placed the glittering thing,
And in King James's stead pronounced
A blessing on the king.
END OF CANTO FIFTH.
| Powhatan | |