CANTO II.

The council-fire was kindled. Far it flashed

On the dark waters with a lurid glow;

A light that just made visible beyond

The wild, projecting Narragansett shore,
Rising abrupt and black-black as the doom
That hung o'er her young sachem, black as death.
Connanicut was lighted; but afar,

On Ocean's bosom, fair Aquidnick lay,
Mantled in darkness: but Pocassett turned
Her forehead to the light, and felt its rays.
The sachems gathered round; and in the midst,
The bravest, proudest young Nanuntenoo
Sat on the rock-girt throne, where all his sires
Poised the strong sceptre of their mighty realm.
Resting on columns carved by Nature's hand,
Rose the strong seat of empire, a dark pile
Of granite cliffs upstretching to the sky.
There sate Tashtassack* first-the patriarch-
Founder of Narragansett-From his line
Came forth Canonicus, the goodt and wise;
And next, the mighty Miantonomo,‡
The martyr'd patriot-and last his son,
The brave, the terrible Nanuntenoo.

On beetling crags, in friendly neighborhood,
Sat the dark chieftains-each a demi-god;
Fierce Pomham, and sagacious Ninigret,$
The noble Quinnapin, with Weetamoe,
Queen of Pocassett. Thoughtfully she sat,
Supporting with one arm the drooping form
Of venerable Magnus, whose white hair
Shaded a brow of solemn dignity;
While in the flash of her yet vivid eye,
And in her royal bearing there was that
Which spoke the still acknowledged sovereign.
On either side of Pomham were his sons,
Quaquagh, the noble, generous and brave;
And musing treachery, hawk-eyed Tonnano;
Last, Potot, wise in council, strong in war.
Then came the band of warriors, every one
In crest, and plume, and war-paint terrible :
A thousand heroes, in whose fearless hearts

In the early times of the Narragansetts, they had a chief named Tashtassack, greatly superior in wisdom, and valor, and dominion, to any chief in all the country. He had but two children; and being unable to match them elsewhere according to their dignity, united them to each other. They had four sons; of whom Canonicus, who was sachem when the English arrived, was the oldest."-ANCIENT MANUSCRIPT.

Roger Williams says of this chief, as may be seen in a manuscript letter addressed to the Governor of Massachusetts: "Their late famous, long-lived Canonicus, so lived and died; and in the same most honorable manner, and solemnity, (in their way,) as you laid to sleep your prudent peace-maker, Mr. Winthrop, did they honor this, their prudent and peaceable prince; yea, through all their towns and countries, how frequently do many, and oft times, our Englishmen travel alone with safety, and lovingkindness."

And again he says, in a deposition dated June 18, 1682: "And therefore I declare to posterity, that were it not for the favor that God gave me with Canonicus, none of these parts-no, not Rhode Island, had been purchased or obtained; for I never got any thing of Canonicus, but by GIFT."

How his generosity was requited, will be seen in the many acts of oppression, cruelty, and wrongwhich were finally consummated by the downright murder of two of the most distinguished members of his family.

This chief was not only one of the best and most devoted friends the English ever found, but his character was one of the highest generosity, heroism, and magnanimity; and even taking his portrait, as drawn by his enemies, he stands out from the gloom of those dark and troubled times, with the bold relief of an immortal greatness. He was the nephew of Canonicus. After his maturity, he shared with that chief the labors of the government, and succeeded him in the sachemship.

This chief, though he had met with many wrongs and indignities at the hands of the English, had sufficient sagacity to perceive the policy of cultivating their friendship; and at the council of 1675, he, jointly with Roger Williams, represented the English interest, and strongly and eloquently urged upon the Narragansett chief an acceptance of the offered terms of peace.

Quinnapin, a Narragansett sachem of some celebrity, had married Weetamoe, the widow of Wamsatta, the oldest son of Massasoit, and brother of King Philip. Weetamoe was, in her own right, sachem of Pocassett, and is described in one of the old Indian chronicles as being "as potent a prince as any round about her, and hath as much corn, land, and men, at her command."

Magnus was an aged squa-sachem of exalted character and great power. She was, in 1765, one "of the six present sachems of the whole Narragansett country." M

Slept the fierce spirit of insatiate War-
And hardly slept-for as they sat erect,
Unmoved as flint-calm, coldly decorous-
Waiting the spark of vengeance to be struck-
There was a restless gleaming of the eye,

That would not be suppressed. Their very plumes
Quiver'd with nervous motion when they breathed,
As if they felt an instinct of the strife,

As steel is troubled at the coming storm.

The council-fire blazed fiercely; and the light,
Flung off in keen reflections, only made

The bordering darkness more distinct and dense.
While ever and anon a piercing eye
Flashed out amid the darkness, like a star
Of evil omen through the gloom of death.

In glancing o'er that host of warriors dark,
But one white visage met the startled eye.
At the young sachem's right, a countenance
Vital with freedom, writ with brotherhood,
'Mid all those dark, discordant elements,
Beamed with expression sweet of kindred love.
The manly heart, by trial unsubdued,
From every blast of fortune gather'd strength
And victory from each conflict-as the oak
Strikes his root deeper when the tempest howls.
A history was written on his brow,

Of trials-struggles triumphs; yet these shone
In the soft curve of his benignant mouth,
And in the serious gentleness that played
O'er every feature, sweet benevolence,
Chastened and made more pure by suffering.
Illustrious Pioneer of Liberty!

Parent and Founder of the truly free-
No treachery deforms thy fearless story-
No deed of vengeance sullies thy pure glory.
Thy precept and example, hand in hand,
Went like fair sisters o'er the smiling land;
And the rude Indian, true to Nature's law,
Knew what was good, and trusted what he saw.
He met thee as a brother-gave his land-
And thou gav'st him an open, honest hand;
Nor was his simple nature e'er deceived,
Nor his proud spirit ever once aggrieved;

He was thy brother-thou-'neath closest scan-
'Mid all temptations-wert-an honest man.
Yet chief in that great test-to know the use
Of power-yet scorn its wild abuse.

Rhode Islanders with virtuous pride can tell,
Thy line of life has but one parallel.

Thou, and the Son of Peace-the Western Sage

Were the twin stars of your illenient age;

When warlike fame as morning mist shall fly,

And blood-stained Glory, as a meteor, die;

When all the dross is known, and cast away,

And the pure gold alone allowed to stay,

Two names will stand, the pride of virtuous men-
Our ROGER WILLIAMS, and good WILLIAM PENN.
The rëembodying of his father's ghost,

Sat young Nanuntenoo. A sterner lip

Ne'er curl'd with pride or scorn-nor haughtier eye,

None glorious in its eloquence of thought,

Than the young sachem wore, and woke, that eve.

As slowly he gazed round, that kindling eye

Spoke and its flashes challenged a reply.
First Nisrigret: "The sachem's eye is fire;
He looks upon his father's enemies-*

*An artful allusion to the ancient enmity existing between the Wampanoags and Narragansetts. The adherence to old friendships, and the preservation of old enmities, was cherished among the Indians as a religious principle; and it could only be set aside by some claim on their hospitality, as may be seen in many points of their history.

He sees the Wampanoag-and it burns.
His soul is true. His hand and heart are one.
They do not lie. The chieftain will give up
The wandering Indians to our good allies."
Nanuntenoo arose; and throwing back,
With a slight motion, his broad mantle-folds,
In graceful dignity, that suited well

The youthful sachem-then in silence stood,
Yet not ineloquent-his presence spoke.
A thousand bosoms heaved tumultuously.
A thousand spirits quickened at his glance;
But silence o'er that sea of human life,
With almost fearful depth, had settled then-
Like Ocean's awful calm, when all his waves
Lie still, and listen for the coming storm.
"Our good allies! Forgive me, Ninigut,
But I must mock thee now! Our good allies!".
Ironically fierce, a haughty smile

Wreathed, for an instant, the young sachem's lip;
Passing-a glorious flash of love awoke,

Living and ardent, from the patriot's soul.

"And must we sell our brethren-men who came,
Weak, weary, wounded, to our wigwam's shade,
Crying for shelter? Doth the sachem see
The tears of women? Doth the sachem hear
The cries of children? Doth he hear the chain
That clanks upon the strong man, with the voice
Of helpless age? And is Nanuntenoo
So poor, he has no blanket, corn, or fire?—

So poor, that he must be ungenerous?
Then let our brethren go!-Ay, let them go,
And laugh-and tell the Yengees we are poor-
We have no blankets, wampum, corn, or lands!
What singing-bird hath spoke?"

"No singing-bird,
But spirit true. It saith, the sachem's hand*
Hath spoke to the white paper-speaketh yet-
And what it promiseth he surely knows.'

Strong and contending passions burned within
The struggling soul of fierce Nanuntenoo;
And his dark breast, upheaving, seemed convulsed
With agony too great for utterance.

One hand was pressed a moment on his brow,
As if to still its throbbing; then burst forth
A flood of passion strong and vehement.
"The sachem never gave his free consent.
It was no treaty. It was downright force.
His hand hath met the paper, but his soul
Denies the craven act. It was a lie.

Shall we, then, sell our brethren? Chieftains, say!
Sell them!-For what? The promises of men
Whose faith is vapor-dust before the wind!
Count every drop in yon dark ocean's bed-
But never tell how oft the Yengee lies!
Go-gather all the leaves that cluster green,
Throughout our many forests. Number them-
But never seek to number half our wrongs!
May not the sachem give his meat, his corn,

Nanuntenoo, or, as he was more generally called, Canonchet, was persuaded to subscribe a treaty," by which he promised to surrender to the English all the Indians hostile to the latter, who fled to him for protection. The fulfilment of this treaty, as is well known, he evaded; and finally involved himself in Philip's war. In regard to the propriety of this measure, Thatcher says: "It is more likely he considered it (the treaty) an absolute nullity, as having been obtained by force, unjustly and insultingly imposed." And again: "Whether that protection, independently of the forced promise to surrender the refugees, was, or was not, a sufficient cause for the war which ensued, it must be allowed at least to reflect no discredit on the humanity and honor of Canonchet, and the other sachems, who persisted in that policy at every hazard. With him, and them, it was unquestionably a measure of sacred principle. No noble-minded chieftain upon the continent, educated as an Indian chieftain always is, would have given ap men who appealed to his hospitality-his own brethren in distress and nakedness, driven before the bayonet of a mortal enemy-of a distant race, and of vastly superior power-and least of all, when, if surrendered, it was to a certain doom of slavery or death. Some of his tribe would have compromised their dignity through fear; but not the son of Miantonomo."-INDIAN BIOGRAPHY.

His wigwam's shelter, unto whom he will?-
Or must he go, with lying, fawning smile,
And ask the Pale-Face who shall be his friend?
Shall we give up our brethren? Sachems, speak!
And what shall we give next? Our father's graves-
Our wives, our daughters, and ourselves, for slaves?
Are we so hungry as to call it sweet-
The dust we lick from off the Yengee's feet?"
His utterance was choked; and Ninigret
Seized the occasion. "Not to be a slave
Would I persuade my brother. Liberty
Is dear to me, as to Nanuntenoo.

But I would see the noble sachem stand,
An honorable friend-a strong ally-
A brother to the Yengee. Chieftain, hear:
The snows of many winters have gone o'er
The head of Ninigret. Nanuntenoo
Counteth not thirty summers. Brother, hear
The counsel of Experience. Bury now

All thought of wrong-and let the hatchet sleep!"
The youthful sachem tore the clasp away
That fastened his rich mantle, and flung off
All covering from his full and heaving breast-
Then stretching forth his arms, he cried aloud,
With such a voice of real agony,

As pierced the heart. "I had a father once!
And while that memory lives, the thought of wrong
Can never be suppressed! A crimson stain-
My father's blood is on the Yengee's hand-
And never-never-will it pass away.
Chieftains, behold your murder'd sachem's son:
And let your ears make haste to drink his words!
Your murdered sachem, and his murdered sire,
Is calling from the land of shadows now-
Calling for vengeance! Shall he cry in vain?
His spirit whisp'reth in the breezy wood;
It troubleth the deep midnight with a voice;

It crieth in the tempest for REVENGE!

Is there a hatchet free-a scalping-knife

Or one true hand to wield a tomahawk

And shall your sachem's blood be unavenged!"
One instant of such silence as foretells

The coming earthquake-then a voice burst forth-
The Narragansett war-cry-"Juhellike!"
A thousand voices sped the winged word;
Rocks, woods, and waters, all repeating it,
Sped the wild presage of a bitterer wo

Than e'er was uttered by the mid-earth groans,
When, with her giant offspring, Death and Ruin,
The huge Fire-Mountain labors.

But uprose

Once more Nanuntenoo-and all was still.

Miantonomo made a league with the English, who were also the adherents of Uncas, sachem of the Mohegans. Miantonomo kept his league with singular good faith, notwithstanding he was continually annoyed by the crafty and wicked Uncas. That sachem, who, for his servility and cunning, became a great favorite-a kind of royal pet to his white allies, presuming upon the favor he enjoyed, lost no opportunity of injuring the Narragansett sachem. Miantonomo, though an independent sachem, made no attempt to seek atonement for his injuries, until, after repeated appeals, he found that could not obtain justice, except through his own person, and by the exertion of his own force. He then was left, as Hubbard laconically says, to "take his own course." This he was not slow to do. He became involved in war with Uncas, in which the English, by every principle of gratitude and justice, should either have assisted him, or have compelled Uncas to make restitution. They did neither; for they liked the fawning sycophancy of Uncas far better than the magnanimity and bravery of Miantonomowhom in truth they feared. The Narragansett was carried away captive; and the English, adopting the same policy they have since shown in the case of Napoleon, decided upon the necessity of his death. A council of "five of the most judicious elders" was called, who formally pronounced his doom. So perished one of their noblest and truest friends-perished, according to their own evidence, for vindicat ing his natural rights, which they had solemnly sworn to protect and defend. What a sad commentary upon the black ingratitude and the treachery of man!

Her wrongs* can name another murder'd king—
Another murder'd-and yet unavenged!

Is there a man-and shall his hatchet sleep,
When a great queen is crying for redress?—
Is there a man who loves his wigwam's shade-
His sheltering forests, and his peaceful fire-

His own wild hunting-grounds-his father's graves-
His wife-his children and his liberty?
Then let the buried hatchet live again!

Sweep from the land our Nation's withering curse!—
Or in the Future he will find no home-

No land-no blanket-and no fathers' graves-
No wife-no children—and no liberty!"

Forth like rising giant Pomham stood:
And, with his war-club lifted bare and high,
Spoke like outbursting thunder. Chieftains, wake!
Shout, Narragansetts, War and Liberty!"

66

He paused a moment. Through the mighty throng
A low and sullen murmur slowly ran,

Like that deep voice the storm-god utters, when
From his upheaving bosom the black clouds
Quake with a stirring of the monster's wrath,
Then woke once more that hideous battle-cry!
Ere on the distant echoes died the strain,
Uprose a Minstrel. In his eloquent eye
The light of a strange beauty woke and burn'd. '
His mantle, belt, and moccasins, were wrought
Wiih touch more delicate, and finer skill,

Than his companions knew of-for his heart

Had dwelt with Beauty, and knew all her forms,

Where they are loveliest-in sweet Nature's home.

The outline of his features was so fair—

So unlike all his brethren, that it seemed
The mental darkness, in its falling off,

Had robbed them of their harshness. Black as night,
Over his ample brow the long hair streamed,
And swept athwart the brilliance of his eye,
Like midnight shadows over some high star.
For him sweet Nature, in her thousand moods,
Had voices, which she utters night and day,
But to her favorite children. The still Noon,
And purple inorning with her singing-birds-
The deep and solemn Midnight. The great Sea,
With his far-reaching pinions, spread serene,
Boundless-fathomless-illimitable-

Or lashed by storms to madness-the blue sky,
In whose expansive depths his spirit bathed
As in the Infinite. All these he loved,
And read their mysteries, and ever made
Their poetry an element of life.

Nor these alone; but insects, birds, and flowers-
The whispering sea-shell, and the pebble mute-
Shadows and mosses, and the wreathing smoke-
Nothing was mean, or void of interest;
For every form of Nature imaged forth
The all-pervading SPIRIT-FATHER-GOD.
Blest with a happier fortune, he had wrought
A name to live eternal as the stars;

And yet, in some more genial, happier sphere,
The fervid soul of Genius shall come forth
From the long twilight of this lower life
Into the perfect morning, and compete
With brother-angels for the highest crown.
The poet rose, and all that living mass,
Like the wild flood of ancient Galilee,

* Mansatta, or Alexander, who was the immediate successor of Massasoit, had excited the suspicions of the English. He was then, as was their custom, immediately cited to appear before the commissioners at Plymouth. The messengers found him ill of a fever; but, notwithstanding the entreaties of his friends, he was compelled to attend the summons, and was borne upon the shoulders of his attendants, until he became so exhausted that he absolutely fell dead. M 2

VOL. II.-18