'mmmmmf' F CORNELL UNIVERSITY LIBRARY BOUGHT WITH THE INCOME OF THE SAGE ENDOWMENT FUND GIVEN IN 1891 BY HENRY WILLIAMS SAGE F5 .C59 Longfellow's count Cornell University Library olin 3 1924 030 990 281 U' Cornell University Library The original of this book is in the Cornell University Library. There are no known copyright restrictions in the United States on the use of the text. http://www.archive.org/details/cu31924030990281 LONGFELLOW'S COUNTRY Other Books by the Same Author A* "Browning's Italy" " Browning's England " "A Child's Guide to Mythology" "Ancient Myths in Modern Poets" J* THE BAKER AND TAYLOR COMPANY 33 E. 17th Street, Union Square North New York Henry Wadsworth Longfellc LONGFELLOW'S COUNTRY BY HELEN ARCHIBALD CLARKE Author of "Browning's Italy," "Browning's England," "Ancient Myths in Modern Poets," etc., etc. NEW YORK The Baker and Tayilor Company 1909 H H OmrlgM, 1909, By The Baker & Taylor Company Published October, 1909 r c=^ <1^ TOe JPremler Press, New York QratefuUy and Faithfully Inscribed to the Poet's Much Loved Daughter MISS ALICE W. LONGFELLOW INTRODUCTORY NOTE The author desires to express her cordial thanks to Miss Alice W. Longfellow, and to Houghton, Mifflin & Co. for permission to make quotations from the Poet's Works and Diary. Also to Dr. H. C. Porter for scientific informa- tion regarding Algae, to Miss E. F. Bonsall for help in securing views in Philadelphia, to Dr. Benjamin Rand for views in Nova Scotia, to Miss Helen Leah Reed for the automobile ride over Paul Revere's route, and to the Magazine Poet-lore wherein was some of the material relating to the " Skeleton in Armor" and "Hiawatha" in studies by Charlotte Porter and Helen A. Clarke. CONTENTS Chapter Page I. Along the Coast of New England - 3 II. Under the Shadow of Blomidon - - 53 III. Idyls from History . ... 99 IV. "The New England Tragedies" - - 147 V. The Lore of "Hiawatha" - - - 177 VI. In Cambridge 229 LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS Henry Wadsworth Longfellow Frotitispiece FACING PAGE The Reef of Norman's Woe, Gloucester Harbor ... 4 East Gloucester 8 Eastern Point Light 14 The Harbor at Marblehead 18 Quaint Old Town, Marblehead 24 Sea Weed SO Old Norse Tower . , 34 Portland Harbor 40 Light Half Way Rock, Portland 44 Cape Blomidou, Nova Scotia 54 Grand Pre, Showing Road Acadians Took to the Sea . 60 Christ Church, Philadelphia 64 Old Swede Church, Philadelphia 86 Pennsylvania Hospital, Philadelphia 90 Friends' Almshouse, Philadelphia 94 The Old North Church 104 The Buckman Tavern 110 Paul Revere's House 114 The Monroe Tavern 118 The Hancock-Clarke House 124 The Standish House, Duxbury 130 The Alden House, Duxbury 142 The Old Elm, Boston Common 150 The Rebecca Nourse House, Danver's Center. . • . 168 Grand Arch, Apostle Islands, Lake Superior . . . . 188 The Falls of Minnehaha 200 Temple Gate, Sand Island, Lake Superior . . . . 214 The Longfellow Home, Cambridge 230 Beacon Street Mall, Boston Common 240 The Wayside Inn, Sudbury 246 Elmwood, The Lowell House, Cambridge 250 ALONG THE COAST OF NEW ENGLAND 'Rich are the sea-gods: — who gives gifts but theyf They grope the sea for pearls, hut more than pearls: They pluck force thence, and give it to the wise. For every wave is wealth to Daedalus, Wealth to the curming artist who can work This matchless strength. Where shall he find, waves! A load your Atlas shoulders cannot lift?" — ^Emeeson. THE charm and variety, and, at times, the gran- deur of the New England coast impress it as a living memory upon the mind of any one who has had the good fortime to follow the summer-holiday advice of Emerson to "lie on the warm rock-ledges and there learn a little hut suffices like a town," or who, viewing it in its sterner aspects, feels the urge and power of the sea as the poet has concentrated them in the line "Pluck force thence and give it to the wise." We shall be foolish, indeed, if, when we make our sum- mer pilgrimages to the coast, we do not go in com- pany with the poets who love the sea; for to the gifts of color and motion and force brought to us by the sea they add the gifts of imagination. Thus, if we wiU, besides reveling in straightforward appreciation of ever-present beauty, we may track to their sources the springs of the poet's fancy — storing our minds with curious or by-gone lore. Delightful as it would be to think that the workings of a poet's imagination require no more strenuous exertion than the giving to "airy nothings a local habitation and a name"; as a matter of fact, his poetic flights are invariably based upon knowledge obtainable by the most humdrum in- telligence. We know that Longfellow loved the sea, not only because of his frequent references to it in his poetry, 4 LONGFELLOW'S COUNTRY but because he speaks of this love more than once, when clothed and in his right mind, in his journal. Of the view from Milton Hill, near Boston, he writes it "Commands a grand prospect over villages, fields, forests and the city, to the great sea itself, stretching blue and vapory beyond." And of the sea by Port- land there is this beautiful description: "At sunrise caught a glimpse of the fair city of my birth, rising beautifully in terraces above the sea — ^the calm, solemn sea, that I have seen so often, and that Jean Paul longed to see once before he died. A glorious scene, with market-boats rowing cityward, rocks, promon- tories, lighthouses, forts, and wooded islands." We may sail up and down the coast from Portland to Newport, where summer outings were frequently spent, and touch from time to time in our voyage many a spot made memorable in his verse. Not the least interesting, for various reasons, of these seaside poems is the Ballad of the Wreck of the Hesperus on the Reef of Norman's Woe. This will come to be considered when a few more centuries have cast their mellowing shadows upon our rawness, an interesting bit of folk-lore, smacking of the soil as surely as any legend of Glooskap or Manabozho seems to do to-day. The poem actually has the naive sim- plicity of a folk-tale. Probably half the population of America now living shed tears when children over the fate of the skipper's little daughter, and many hun- dreds, if not thousands, have, in later years, entered Gloucester Harbor with a thrilling sense of being in the land of romance, when they passed the formidable reef, lying on the left as you enter the harbor, where the schooner Hesperus met her fate. But the grim- o m cs hi >< (» THE SHADOW OF BLOMIDON 91 upon the picture drawn by the Abbe, says : "By many it is thought to represent a state of social happiness, totally inconsistent with the frailties and passions of human nature; and that it is worthy rather of the poet than the historian. In describing a scene of rural fe- licity like this, it is not improbable that his narrative has partaken of the warmth of feeling for which he was remarkable; but it comes much nearer the truth than is generally imagined. Tradition is fresh and positive in the various parts of the United States where they were located respecting their guileless, peaceable, and scrupulous character; and the descend- ants of those, whose long cherished and endearing local attachment induced them to return to the land of their nationality, still deserve the name of a mild, frugal and pious people." An anecdote related by Eliza Brown Chase in her entertaining little book "Over the Border: Acadia," teUs the same tale. It seems that many years ago two girls were in the habit of strolling to what was then suburban Philadelphia in their walks, and that when they went to visit the Pennsylvania Hospital at Ninth and Pine streets, they were afraid because they were obliged to pass the place where the "French Neu- trals," as the Acadians were called, lived. These people, because they were foreigners and there was some mystery about them, which the girls did not then understand, inspired them with fear; though Philadelphia residents of that time testify that the homeless and destitute strangers were in reality a very simple and inoffensive company. The one place described in the poem where Long- fellow had been was Philadelphia. Here he placed 92 LONGFELLOW'S COUNTRY the poorhouse where Evangeline and Gabriel finally met, though his recollections of its location seem to have been rather vague. He writes: "I was passing down Spruce Street one day toward my hotel after a walk, when my attention was attracted to a large building with beautiful trees about it, inside of a high enclosure. I walked along until I came to the great gate, and then stepped inside and looked carefully over the place. The charming picture of lawn, flower-beds and shade which it presented made an impression which has never left me, and when I came to write 'Evangeline,' I placed the final scene, the meeting between Evangeline and Gabriel, and the death at the poorhouse, and the burial in an old Cath- olic graveyard not far away, which I found by chance in another of my walks." He evidently refers here to the "Pennsylvania Hospital," which fills up a whole square from Spruce Street to Pine Street and from Eighth to Ninth. There was said to have been an almshouse at the corner of Twelfth and Spruce in the days of the Acadians. The writer lived, when a small child, on Spruce Street above Twelfth, but if an almshouse ever stood there it had long given place to the neat Philadelphia dwelling house of red brick with white shutters and white marble steps. The children in the neighborhood used to be astonished when told that once upon a time this was out in the covmtry. Then, as now, the City Almshouse was three or four miles away across the Schuylkill in West Philadelphia, A little above the corner of Twelfth and Spruce was a confectioner's where small sugar cakes and lemon sticks could be procured for a cent apiece. Diagonally opposite at the corner THE SHADOW OF BLOMIDON 93 was an entrancing paper-doll shop. There, paper dolls could be furnished with every variety of fancy papers, brocades and satins and piques, with laces and with flowers for their costumes. These also a cent apiece! It may be imagined what a thriving shopping district it had become since the days of Evangeline for small fry with pennies to spend. Some people seem to know better than Longfel- low himself what building he had in mind. They believe he meant to portray the quaint building for- merly known as the Friends' Almshouse, which stood in Walnut Place, opening off Walnut Street be- low Fourth, torn down in '72 or '73. Indeed, the poet finally himself wrote to a Philadelphia woman a letter in which he declared the Friends' Almshouse was the one he intended to describe. Who then can be cer- tain when his own letters are contradictory? This is described by one who remembered it: "The entrance from the street, by 'gateway and wicket,' as the poem says, led through a narrow passageway; and there faced one a small, low-roofed house, built of alternate red and black bricks (the latter glazed), almost entirely covered by an aged ivy which clambered over the roof. The straggling branches even nodded above the wide chimneys: at both sides of the door stood comfortable settees, in- viting to rest; and the pretty garden charmed with its bloom and fragrance. The whole formed such a restful retreat, such an oasis of quiet in the very heart of the busy city, that one was tempted often to make excuses for straying into the peaceful enclosure." Perhaps he had both places in mind, but whatever may have been the exact spot, it seems hardly possi- 94 LONGFELLOW'S COUNTRY ble that Evangeline could have heard, that Sabbath morn, the Swedes singing psalms in their church at Wicaco, for the old Swedish church is some miles to the south on Second Street. She might, however, have heard the chimes of Christ Church, though even that is a mile or more away from any of the possible locations of the almshouse in this city, where — "All the air is balm, and the peach is the emblem of beauty. And the streets still reecho the names of the trees of the forest. As if they fain would appease the Dryads whose haunts they molested." As every one knows, the pathetic romance of Evan- geline and Gabriel was developed by the poet from a story which the Rev. H. L. Conolly had heard from a French-Canadian. He told it to Hawthorne, who jotted it down in his note-book: "H. L. C. heard from a French Canadian a story of a young couple in Acadie. On their marriage day all the men in the province were summoned to assemble in the church to hear a proclamation. When assembled, they were all seized and shipped off to be distributed through New England, among them the new bridegroom. His bride set off in search of him — wandered about New England all her lifetime, and at last when she was old she found her bridegroom on his death-bed. The shock was so great that it killed her likewise." One day when Conolly and Haw- thorne were dining with Longfellow, the story was again mentioned, Conolly wondering that Haw- thorne did not care for it. "If you really do not want Friends' Almshouse, Philadelphia THE SHADOW OF BLOMIDON 95 this incident for a tale," said Longfellow, "let me have it for a poem." And so the poem was written, and the Acadians immortalized. "Evangeline" belongs to the earliest recollections of many of us. To some its simple dig- nity and beauty became obscured through school uses. In the writer's early school days Milton's Satan and Evangeline, hand in hand, led the young grammarian wearisomely through the purgatorial regions of parsing. But after several years of the torturing problems of Ibsen and the psychical miseries of Maeterlinck, this wholesome tale of the imswerving loyalty of two beings through a lifetime of suffering and separation gives one a renewed sense of faith in humanity. IDYLS FROM HISTORY "And thou, America, For the scheme's culmination, its thought and its reality. For these {not for thyself) thou hast arrived. "Thou too surroundest all. Embracing, carrying, welcoming all, thou too by pathways broad and new. To the ideal tendest. "The measur'd faiths of other lands, the grandeurs of the past. Are not for thee, but grandeurs of thine own, Deific faiths and amplitudes, absorbing, comprehending all, all eligible to all. "All, all for immortality. Love like the light silently wrapping all. Nature's amelioration blessing all. The blossoms, fruits of ages, orchards divine and certain. Forms, objects, growths, humanities, to spiritual images ripening," Whitman. Ill HAWTHORNE wrote to Longfellow: "I never was more surprised than at your writing poems about slavery. I have not seen them, but have faith in their excellence, though I cannot con- jecture what species of excellence it will be. You have never poetized a practical subject hitherto." Longfellow was so distinctly a lover of the romantic that only a romantic treatment occurred to him, even when dealing with the stern problem of slavery, al- ready looming into the foregroimd of national affairs at that time — some twenty years before it was threshed out at the bar of force. There is a handful of poems, each presenting some picture or episode under the conditions of slavery, which seems slight, even senti- mental, when compared with utterances made by others of deeper philosophical insight. Still, these poems have their place, and perhaps did surer work in arousing dormant sympathy just because of their tell- ing the story of slave wrongs and sufferings in a simple and sympathetic manner, instead of with due thundering of righteous wrath. The Dial^ with its deeply serious aims, might dismiss the book with scant notice as "spirited and polished like its fore- runners; but the subject would warrant a deeper tone" ; but there were many to whose hearts the poems 99 100 LONGFELLOW'S COUNTRY made a strong appeal. Among the dozens of letters received by the poet are such expressions of enthusi- asm as the following: "Such poems on slavery are never to be forgotten; and I must not refrain from giving you my heartiest thanks. They are all one could wish them to be — poetry, simple, graceful, strong; without any taint of coarseness, harshness or passion. I think the Quadroon is my favorite." Even a correspondent who took the poet to task for his general attitude on the subject of slavery is warm in his praise of the "Quadroon Girl." He writes: "I do not like the sentiment of your first piece, and though respecting Dr. Charming as an eminently good man, I think every word he wrote on the sub- ject at least did no good. . . The 'Chartered lie' of our respected Declaration is no doubt a lie, and would not have been inserted except for the present necessity, but it is only so because men are not in fact created free and equal, and if they were could not remain so a single moment. There must be 'thrones, dominations, princedoms, virtues, powers.' I regret, too, that in piece second you should consider your African, riding like mad in such guise over the desert, killing merij women and children, and being himself killed in turn, stealing everything he can lay his hands on; seizing his neighbor's little ones for sale, or perhaps selling his own ; in one word, an unreclaimed barbarian — as a more respectable character than the same person pursuing agriculture as a profession at the South, attending church on Sunday, dancing care oflp when his work is done, playing with his master's children possibly, and, on the whole, enjoying him- self ten times as much as half our surly freemen who IDYLS FROM HISTORY 101 commiserate him. I very much doubt the sentiment you impute to him." But even this caviller found the "Quadroon Girl" a "gem": "The description of herself is as sweet a thing as I remember to have seen, and as touching, and above all praise. The whole piece is exquisitely wrought and the thing it depicts too horrible for the human heart to endure — almost to believe. This is the great evil of slavery and de- serves all the assaults which indignant humanity can hurl at it." What it meant to come out publicly on the side of anti-slavery at that time is shown by the fact that the editor of a Philadelphia magazine wrote to apologize for giving the poems insufficient notice, because the word slavery was not allowed to appear in his mag- azine. Only with difficulty had he obtained from the publishers permission to print the title of the book "Poems on Slavery." The story of the writing of these poems is an in- teresting one. Longfellow had been in London vis- iting Charles Dickens, one of his most cherished friends. Dickens had then written his "American Notes" with its "Grand Chapter on Slavery," as the poet called it. In this chapter it may be remembered that Dickens makes an especial point of the brutaliz- ing effect upon the American people of the institution of slavery, contending that the advertisements con- stantly appearing in the Southern newspapers could but have a deteriorating influence upon the young minds of the South. He quotes several columns of them. It is difficult for those who were not born into the nation while yet it was the holder of slaves, to real- ize that such advertisements could appear in a civ- 102 LONGFELLOW'S COUNTRY ilized country in the nineteenth century. They ask for the apprehension of runaway slaves, and, in order that the slaves may be identified, the owners describe with unblushing frankness the marks of cruelty to be found on their bodies, such as teeth punched out, scars from gun wounds or knife wounds, letters branded in the cheek with hot irons. Dickens was perfectly aware of the fact that all slave-holders were not monsters of cruelty, but that did not prevent him from hurling forth his well-grounded indignation at an institution which countenanced cruelties so dis- graceful. Longfellow speaks of having read this book in London, and probably this, together with talk on the subject with its author, fired his long-smouldering sympathy for the anti-slavery movement to the point of versification. He had long before wished to do something in his "humble way," he said, for the cause, and had thought of writing a drama on "Toussaint rOuverture." He set sail for America immediately after this visit in the once-famous ocean vessel, the Great Western^ and himself describes his "boister- ous" passage home in the teeth of a gale from the west. In this hurly-burly of the elements he com- posed his slave poems. "I was not out of my berth more than twelve hours for the first twelve days. I was in the forward part of the vessel, where all the great waves struck and broke with voices of thunder. There, 'cribbed, cabined and confined,' I passed fif- teen days. During this time I wrote seven poems on Slavery. I meditated upon them in the stormy, sleepless nights, and wrote them down with a pencil in the morning. A small window admitted light into IDYLS FROM HISTORY 103 my berth, and there I lay on my back and soothed my soul with songs." This is the only time Longfellow ventured into the burning questions of the day. He, however, sent a young son into the war when the long-brewing crisis came, whose illness first and later whose dangerous wounds took the poet twice to Washington. He thus had his full share in the anxiety of those troublous times. In judging these poems to-day, however, it should always be borne in mind that Longfellow's was not a militant but a sympathetic nature. As Samuel Longfellow writes: "With the Abolitionist leaders he was not acquainted. To his pacific temper, constitu- tionally averse to controversy, and disliking every- thing violent, these brave and unrelenting fighters for justice, humanity and liberty seemed often harsh, violent and dictatorial." With the seriousness of Simmer, however, he was deeply in sympathy and the two were life-long friends. He belonged by na- ture to the unclassified sympathizers with anti- slavery. Such are not the people who push forward a movement. Their part is to shed a cheerful light upon the paths of those who do, and for this reason their value is beyond price. Longfellow's muse was better attuned to glimpses into the history of the past, which he always chose to look at with the artist's prerogative of leaving out or changing anything in the landscape that would detract from his artistic design. "Paul Revere's Ride" is a vital and stirring presentation of an epi- sode, picturesque as well as of profoxmd import for the future of America, but it is proverbial for its his- 104 LONGFELLOW'S COUNTRY torical inaccuracies. Nevertheless the greater part of the school children of the United States remember the nineteenth of April more because of this poem than because of their history lessons. So convincing is it that even grown-up historians repeat its inac- curacies as bona fide history. No less a man than John Fiske was sadly mixed about the famous bea- con lanterns and, in all seriousness, relates that Paul Revere watched for them himself in Charlestown. No one who compares Revere's own circumstantial and unillimainated account of his ride with Longfel- low's ballad but will be thankful to the poet for giv- ing us flashlights upon him as he rides through the darkness. "It was twelve by the village clock When he crossed the bridge into Medf ord town. He heard the crowing of the cock. And the barking of the farmer's dog. And felt the damp of the river fog. That rises after the sun goes down. "It was one by the village clock When he galloped into Lexington. He saw the gilded weather-cock Swim in the moonlight as he passed, And the meeting-house windows, blank and bare. Gaze at him with a spectral glare. As if they already stood aghast At the bloody work they would look upon. "It was two by the village clock When he came to the bridge in Concord town. He heard the bleating of the flock, And the twitter of birds among the trees, And felt the breath of the morning breeze Blowing over the meadows brown. The Old North Church IDYLS FROM HISTORY 105 And one was safe and asleep in his bed Who at the bridge would be first to fall, Who that day would be lying dead, Pierced by a British musket-ball." We are perfectly satisfied to imagine that the things Longfellow does not describe happened to Paul as mere incidents between his arrival at these different points. In Paul's own account he tells how about ten o'clock Dr. Warren sent in great haste for him and begged him immediately to set off for Lexington, where Messrs. Hancock and Adams were, and ac- quaint them of the movements of the British soldiers who were preparing to embark, and who, it was thought, intended mischief to these two. "When I got to Dr. Warren's house," he writes, "I found he had sent an express by land to Lexington — a Mr. William Dawes. The Sunday before, by desire of Dr. Warren, I had been to Lexington to Messrs. Hancock and Adams, who were at the Rev. Mr. Clark's. I returned at night through Charlestown ; there I agreed with a Colonel Conant and some other gentlemen, that if the British went out by water, we would show two lanthorns in the North Church steeple; and if by land, one, as a signal; for we were apprehensive it would be difficult to cross the Charles River, or get over Boston Neck. I left Dr. Warren, called upon a friend, and desired him to make the sig- nals. I then went home, took my boots and surtout, went to the north part of the town, where I had left a boat; two friends rowed me across Charles River, a little to the eastward where the Somerset man-of- war lay. It was the young flood, the ship was wind- 106 LONGFELLOW'S COUNTRY ing and the moon was rising. They landed me on the Charlestown side. When I got into the town I met Colonel Conant, and several others; they said they had seen our signals. I told them what was acting, and went to get me a horse; I got a horse of Deacon Larkin." This description is so prosaic as to be almost irritating to any one who has in mind the stanza describing Paul's own restless watching for the signals : "Meanwhile, impatient to mount and ride. Booted and spurred, with a heavy stride On the opposite shore walked Paul Revere. Now he patted his horse's side. Now gazed at the landscape far and near. Then, impetuous, stamped the earth. And turned and tightened his saddle-girth; But mostly he watched with eager search The belfry tower of the Old North Church, As it rose above the graves on the hill, Lonely and spectral and sombre and still. And lo! as he looks, on the belfry's height A glimmer, and then a gleam of light! He springs to the saddle, the bridle he turns, But lingers and gazes, till full on his sight A second lamp in the belfry burns!" No wonder historians have liked to go on making this mistake! No logic of necessity can convince one that there was any need to have these signals dis- played for those watching on the opposite shore lest Paul should not, himself, get safely across the river. It was his due as the hero of this tempestuous ride to have had the suspense of watching for the signals himself just as the poet describes it. IDYLS FROM HISTORY 107 He goes on: "I set off on a very good horse; it was then about eleven o'clock and very pleasant. After 1 had passed Charlestown Neck, and got nearly op- posite where Mark was hung in chains, I saw two men on horseback, under a tree. When I got near them I discovered they were British officers. One tried to get ahead of me and the other to take me. I turned my horse very quick, and galloped towards Charlestown Neck, and then pushed for the Medford road. The one who chased me, endeavoring to cut me off, got into a clay pond, near where the new tavern is now built. I got clear of him, and went through Medford, over the bridge and up to Menot- omy. In Medford I waked the Captain of the Minute Men; and after that I alarmed almost every house, till I got to Lexington. I found Messrs. Hancock and Adams at the Rev. Mr. Clark's, I told them my errand, and inquired for Mr. Dawes; they said he had not been there; I related the story of the two officers and supposed that he must have been stopped as he ought to have been there before me. After I had been there about half an hour, Mr. Dawes came; we refreshed ourselves, and set off for Concord, to secure the stores, etc., there. We were overtaken by a young Dr. Prescott, whom we found to be a high son of liberty." He joined them in spite of the fact that they warned him they might be stopped on the way to Concord by British soldiers. They had gone about half way, Mr. Dawes and the doctor had stopped to alarm the people of a house, when the expected happened. "I was about one hun- dred rods ahead," says Paul, "when I saw two men, in 108 LONGFELLOW'S COUNTRY nearly the same situation as those officers were, near Charlestown. I called for the doctor and Mr. Dawes to come up; in an instant I was surroimded by four — they had placed themselves in a straight road, that inclined each way; they had taken down a pair of bars on the north side of the road, and two of them were under a tree in the pasture. The doctor being foremost he came up ; and we tried to get past them ; but they being armed with pistols and swords, they forced us into the pasture — the doctor jumped his horse over a low stone wall, and got to Concord. I observed a wood at a small distance and made for that. When I got there, out started six officers, on horseback, and ordered me to dismount; one of them who appeared to have the command examined me, where I came from, and what my name was? I told him. He asked me if I was an express? I an- swered in the affirmative. He demanded what time I left Boston? I told him; and added, that their troops had catched aground in passing the river, and that there would be five hundred Americans there in a short time, for I had alarmed the country all the way up. He immediately rode toward those who stopped us, when all five of them came down upon a full gallop ; one of them whom I afterwards f oimd to be a Major Mitchell of the Fifth Regiment, clapped his pistol to my head, called me by name, and told me he was going to ask me some questions, and if I did not give him true answers he would blow my braius out. He then asked me similar questions to those above. He then ordered me to mount my horse after searching me for arms. He then ordered them to advance, and to lead me in front. When we got IDYLS FROM HISTORY 109 to the road, they turned down toward Lexington. When we had got about one mile, the Major rode up to the officer that was leading me, and told him to give me to the Sergeant. As soon as he took me the Major ordered him if I attempted to run, or any- body insulted them, to blow my brains out. We rode till we got near Lexington meeting-house, when the militia fired a volley of guns, which appeared to alarm them very much. The Major inquired of me how far it was to Cambridge, and if there were any other road? After some consultation, the Major rode up to the Sergeant and asked if his horse was tired? He answered him, he was — (he was a Sergeant of Gren- adiers and had a small horse) . Then, said he, take that man's horse; I dismounted and the Sergeant mounted my horse, when they all rode towards Lex- ington meeting-house. I went across the burying ground and some pastures and came to Mr. Clark's house where I found Messrs. Hancock and Adams. I told them of my treatment, and they concluded to go from that house towards Woburn. I went with them, and a Mr. Lowell who was clerk to Mr. Han- cock. When we got to the house where they in- tended to stop Mr. Lowell and myself returned to Mr. Clark's, to find what was going on. When we got there an elderly man came in; he said he had just come from the tavern, that a man had come from Bos- ton who said there were no British troops coming. Mr. Lowell and myself went towards the tavern, when we met a man on a full gallop who told us the troops were coming up the rocks. We afterwards met another who said they were close by; Mr. Lowell asked me to go to the tavern with him, to get a trunk 110 LONGFELLOW'S COUNTRY of papers belonging to Mr. Hancock. While we were getting the trunk we saw the British very near, upon a full march. In our way we passed through the militia. There were about fifty. When we had got about one hundred yards from the meeting- house the British troops appeared on both sides of the meeting-house. In their front was an officer on horseback. They made a short halt : when I saw and heard a gun fired, which appeared to be a pistol. Then I could distinguish two guns, and then a con- tinual roar of musketry; when we made off with the trunk." So it was that Paul never reached Concord! Only a miserable second fiddle, Dr. Prescott. A very worthy gentleman, no doubt, who had a full share in saving the country that memorable night, but is there any one who has read the poem and who does not wish it had been Paul? There is some compensa- tion here, however, in the fact, not appearing in the poem, that Paul saw the first gun fired. That is one of the things we may imagine happened between "one by the village clock" and "two by the village clock," though the poet only makes Paul see "the meeting-house windows, blank and bare. Gaze at him with a spectral glare." Another account of this ride was given by Richard Devens, who, as well as Paul Revere, was a mem- ber of the Committee of Safety. It antedated Paul Revere's account; and differs slightly, but is interest- ing as showing what was happening on the other side Bi > o p PQ 3! IDYLS FROM HISTORY 111 of the river at the same time that the British were preparing their attack from Boston: "On the 18th of April, '75, Tuesday, the Com- mittee of Safety, of which I was then a member, and the Committee of SuppHes, sat at Newell's tavern at Menotomy. A great number of British officers dined at Cambridge. After we had finished the business of the day, we adjourned to meet at Wo- burn on the morrow; left to lodge at Newell's, Gerry, Orne and Lee. Mr. Watson and myself came off in my chaise at sunset. On the road we met a great number of British officers and their servants on horseback, who had dined that day at Cambridge. We rode some way after we met them and then turned back and rode through them, went and in- formed our friends at Newell's. We stopped there imtil they came up and rode by. We then left our friends and I came home, after leaving Mr. Watson at his house. I soon received intelligence from Bos- ton that the enemy were all in motion and were cer- tainly preparing to come out into the country. Soon afterwards the signal agreed upon was given: this was a lanthorne hung out in the upper window of the tower of the North Church towards Charlestown. I then sent off an express to inform Messrs. Gerry, etc., and Messrs. Hancock and Adams, who I knew were at the Rev. Mr. Clark's at Lexington, that the enemy were certainly coming out. I kept watch at the ferry to watch for the boats till about eleven o'clock, when Paul Revere came over and informed that the T. [troops] were actually in the boats. I procured a horse and sent off Paul Revere to give the intelli- gence at Menotomy and Lexington. He was taken 112 LONGFELLOW'S COUNTRY by the British officers before he got to Lexington and detained till near day" — an error, of course. Besides the need which has troubled the consciences of the historians to tell the "true story of Paul Re- vere," there has been a lengthened controversy upon who was the "friend" to hang out the lanterns and where was the church in which they were hung ; points not brought up by the poet's inaccuracy this time, but because of the vagueness of both Revere and Devens on the subject in speaking simply of the North Church, and a "friend," without mentioning the name. The church which bears the inscription commem- orating the event is Christ Church, though its claims since first brought forward in 1873 have been dis- puted. Dr. Eaton wrote a historical accoimt of this church in 1824, but said nothing about its connection with Paul Revere's ride. Dr. Henry Burroughs, however, not only claimed this church as the one with which the incident was connected, in a historical dis- course in the year above mentioned, but he declared that the "friend" who hvmg out the lanterns was Robert Newman, in 1775 the sexton of the church. Drake's "Landmarks" also connected the incident with Christ Church. Not until December, 1876, when the city authorities decided to put a tablet upon this church, were its claims disputed. Richard Frothingham then declared that the true place where the lanterns were displayed was the old North Meet- ing-house in North Square, which was pulled down during the siege for fuel. Then followed a letter in the Daily Advertiser from Rev. John Lee Watson, and comments by Charles Deane, in which it is shown beyond a doubt that Christ Church was popularly IDYLS FROM HISTORY 113 known as the North Church. But Mr. Watson con- fused matters somewhat by declaring that the friend who hung the lanterns up was a Boston merchant, Mr. John Pulling, a warden of the church, and not the sexton. Mr. W. W. Wheildon in 1878 brought forward the claims of Newman again, but confirms the opinion that the church was Christ Church. To sum up ; who the friend was, still remains in doubt, but Christ Church is generally accepted as the place, and consequently on Oct. 17, 1878, the tablet was put up on the front of the church, with the inscription, "The Signal Lanterns of Paul Revere displayed in the steeple of this church, April 18, 1775, warned the country of the march of the British troops to Lexing- ton and Concord." This church, built in 1723, was the second Episcopal church in Boston. The original spire was blown down in a gale in 1804, so the devout tourist can gaze only upon the simulacrum of the spire from which the beacon fraught with such big meaning flashed. The present spire was built in likeness to the old one by Charles Bulfinch, the architect of State-house fame, but has suffered not a "sea change," but a clock change, some alterations having been necessary to ac- commodate the present clock. In the palmy days of the North End, Christ Church, built on rising ground on Salem Street, must have been a conspicuous object in the surrounding neighborhood, and, of course, could readily be seen from the low land of Charlestown opposite the North End. Now it is buried in a labyrinth of crooked streets lined with tenements and shops and given over to the Italians, and the Russian and Polish Jews, It is 114 LONGFELLOW'S COUNTRY peculiarly fitting that these last should find an asylum in the quarter of the city so identified with the inaug- uration of our own freedom. The Italians, however, give the local color to the neighborhood. One sees bits of bright yellow blinking in the sunshine from behind half shut blinds, women stand about with gay shawls and head coverings, and if one be so disposed, he can dine on yards of maccheroni smothered in toma- toes and read Dante henceforth with an Italian ac- cent; or better still, he may attend a performance of Marionettes in a stuffy little room full of men smok- ing. The heroes of Ariosto stalk about the stage and fight and make love with the nervous tension and precision so characteristic of Marionettes, while from above is heard the voice of one reading. I was never at such a performance, but "it's as if I saw it all," as Browning makes one of his Dramatis Personce say of Italy itself. Not far from the church, on North Square, is the house where Paul Revere lived for the greater part of his life. A short time ago it was "restored" and now looks as it did in the days when Paul exhibited transparencies from its upper windows, cartooning the political events of the time. It was upon the oc- casion of the first anniversary of the Boston Massacie that this interesting exhibition took place and great- ly impressed the crowds below. A newspaper of the time describes them: "One of these transparencies represented Christopher Snider, with one of his fin- gers in his wound, endeavoring to stop the blood from issuing therefrom; near him his friends weeping; at a small distance a monumental pyramid with his name o 1^ PL, IDYLS FROM HISTORY 115 on the top and the names of those killed on the fifth of March around the base. There was an inscription which read : " 'Snider's pale ghost fresh bleeding stands, And vengeance for his death demands.' " In another window, under the legend "Foid Play," were shown the British soldiers drawn up in firing line, with dead and wounded lying about, blood pour- ing from their wounds. A third transparency repre- sented America, in the form of a female figure, sit- ting on a tree stump with one foot on the head of a prostrate grenadier grasping a serpent. The Bos- ton Gazette reported that "the spectators were struck with solemn silence and their countenances were cov- ered with a melancholy glow." A truly remarkable man was Paul Revere. He had his finger in so many of Dame America's pies that we are constantly being reminded of him. If we pick up some book upon Boston in the early days we shall almost surely find among the illustra- tions one or more of his engravings. We are liable at any time to meet some one who has a silver tea-pot or silver knee-buckles made by him; when we hear the church bells ring we remember that Paul Revere cast the first church bell ever cast in America for the "New Brick Church." And who but he furnished all the copper fixtures for the United States frigate Constitution, or, as it was nicknamed, "Old Iron- sides. Finally we cannot even cast our gaze upon the State House without remembering that as a grand 116 LONGFELLOW'S COUNTRY mason he helped to lay its cornerstone, nor yet raise our eyes upwards to its dome without remembering that once upon a time he re-coppered it. To roimd out his usefulness he served his country as a soldier and engraved and printed the paper money of Massa- chusetts. If he had lived in the days of the Italian Renaissance he would probably have also painted Madonnas and written sonnets. He had, however, that instinctive commercialism which was to reach abnormal development in the American character in a hundred years, and this it was, no doubt, that made him successively engraver, cartoonist, gold- smith, soldier, bell and cannon founder, copper- rolling mill owner. Even as messenger on the Com- mittee of Safety, after the Lexington episode, he de- manded and received "pay." The quaint old house, buUt in the Dutch style with second story projecting beyond the first, and with small diamond-paned windows, looks crowded and out of place shoulder to shoulder with the much la- ter shop buildings now standing on either side of it. Not long since I had the pleasure of threading the mazes of the "North End" with a party in a friend's automobile, the express purpose being to follow as closely as possible Paul's famous ride. Having viewed first the house, then the church, we made our way with some difficulty through the narrow streets, where groups of voluble Italians — women in gay colors., and men — were talking and gesticulating, and often only lounging, to the bridge connecting Boston with Charlestown. The place where the British warship Somerset must have been anchored, not far from the point where Paul embarked for his stealthy row IDYLS FROM HISTORY 117 across the river, is now such a mass of docks and low bridging for railroad tracks that the broad reach of the Charles seems almost obliterated. It was half a mile across in those days ; now in less time than it takes to tell it, we were over the river and in Charlestown, with elevated trains whizzing overhead, and troUejJ^s blocking our headlong career in a manner almost as exasperating as the British interferences with Paul's ride on horseback must have been. We fol- lowed the main street to "Medford town," but found it difficult up to that point to imagine ourselves in Paul Revere's shoes. For one thing we were not in the least sure that we were really following in his footsteps. From Medford to Lexington, we knew ourselves to be on the identical road, because an oblig- ing sign, "This is the road Paul Revere took to Lex- ington," furnished us with the needed information. The country along* this road is still to a great extent "open," so, forgetting the fact of daylight and an automobile, we could very well imagine ourselves in a Revere mood. Along the road are still standing some of the old houses whose inmates he aroused nearly one hundred and thirty-five years ago. The closer one approaches to Lexington the more numerous become the houses upon which some legend is fastened, connecting it with the events of Lexing- ton's great day. The most important is the "Mon- roe Tavern" on the left of the road, where Lord Percy with his reinforcement of twelve hxindred men and two cannon took his stand, the afternoon of April 19, and prevented the complete rout of the British army in its retreat from Concord. It was an early spring that year for a New England spring. 118 LONGFELLOW'S COUNTRY the cherry trees were already in bloom, and the Brit- ish, who had been fighting a running fight for ten mUes, dropped down when they reached the shelter of the "Monroe«Tavem," completely overcome by heat and fatigue. Cruelly were their sufferings revenged by the bayoneting of the harmless and the firing of the houses which followed, but why bring up this hor- rible scene? It is pleasanter to remember a story told by Howells about Lord Percy's portrait which hangs in the Lexington library. Howells was spending the summer in Lexington and naturally was much in the library, where he had the "opportunity" to answer the questions of the various visitors who came in to look at the revolutionary relics kept there. He relates that the portrait of Lord Percy, young and hand- some, always attracted the greatest interest, no Amer- icans ever seeming to realize that he was not in sym- pathy with them. Howells noticed especially one boy who gazed and gazed at the portrait for a long time and finally went off with a sigh of wonder, say- ing "And he was a Britisher!" Soon we came upon the irregular triangle forming the green, about which the chief interest centers. The meeting-house which figures in the poem and in Re- vere's own account is no longer there, but the hallowed spot is marked by a most original monvunent. It is a single block of red granite, and represents a reading desk with a closed polished book of granite upon it. The last of the three meeting-houses built on this spot was burned in 1846. The desk is supposed to face ex- actly as the pulpit did in at least two of the meeting- houses. Upon sunken polished panels, front and back, are recorded events connected with the civic and Si a o o IDYLS FROM HISTORY 119 religious history of a hundred years, now completed as the closed book is meant to symbolize. Another characteristic monument is a boulder, said to weigh about eighteen tons. It was brought from the woods on the old Muzzey place in the western part of the town, a distance of two miles. Only the front of this has been cut, the remainder of the rock being left in its natural state. An old musket such as the Minute- men bore, is carved on the face with a powder horn above it, while underneath is an inscription giving the words used by Captain Parker to his men as they stood there — some forty or fifty of them facing a regiment of six hxmdred British soldiers: "Stand your ground. Don't fire unless fired upon. But if they want to have a war let it begin here." The musket is intended to point the direction of Captain Parker's company. We turn from these modern memorials to the old monument in honor of the men who fell, upon which has recently been placed a tablet setting forth that the bodies of those who fell were first buried in the old cemetery, and after lying there for sixty years the remains were gathered up and brought here to be buried at the foot of the monument. Still more are we brought into touch with the past when we come upon the old, old houses, that were standing about the green on that eventful day. One is the "Buckman Tavern," where the Provincials mustered when the alarm was given by Paul, and whither he went with Mr. Lowell to get Mr. Hancock's trunk- ful of papers. It is a quaint and picturesque old house with a pretty, old-fashioned garden. Upon another house is a tablet relating that here lived Jonathan Harrington, who was wounded in the 120 LONGFELLOW'S COUNTRY skirmish which took place in the sight of its windows, and how he succeeded in dragging himself to his own doorstep, and there died in his wife's arms. As an English lady who was of the party said with beau- tiful sympathy in her voice, "the only comfort is that by this time she is dead, too." But we must take up the role of Paul Revere again and hasten on to the Rev. Jonas Clark's, which is not far off on a road to the right. It is known as the Hancock house. It was built by the Rev. John Han- cock, later enlarged by his son Thomas, and jSnally bought by the Rev. Mr. Clark, who married a grand- daughter of John Hancock's. We aHghted from the vehicle which stood us in place of the good horse from Mr. Larkin's, and entered with mingled feel- ings the room where Paul had delivered his message to the two men most vitally concerned in the com- ing encounter, Hancock and Adams, upon whose heads a price had been set. This house is preserved as a relic of the Revolution, and is filled with inter-: esting mementos. Among other things are a mus- ket and a drum which were used at the fight on the green, the pocketbook carried by one of the men who rowed Paul Revere across the Charles, and one of Revere's own engravings of the Boston massacre. To speak of these simple things in cold print means so little! But even the nonchalant, blase, latter-day Bostonian, with brains satiated by knowledge, and emotions chilled through lack of faith, feels stirred by these tokens of an event marking one of the most significant strides of the human spirit in its long and tortuous march toward enlightenment. Something of the feeling that all Americans have when contemplat- IDYLS FROM HISTORY 121 ing the daring and pluck of that handful of men at Lexington comes out in what Ilowells has to say. "It ['The Buckman Tavern'] afforded a rendez- vous for the Provincials when the alarm of the Brit- ish approach was first soimded by Paul Revere, and there most of the men lingered and waited subject to their captain's orders, after he had begun to doubt the truth of the nmior. The interval must have been trying to those unwarlike men, but they all answered the drum when a messenger galloped up with the news that the King's troops were right upon them. Some of them had gone to bed again in their homes beside the green, and they left their wives and chil- dren sleeping almost within sound of a whisper from the spot where they loosely formed on the grass be- fore their doors. Independence was scarcely dreamt of: all that the villagers were clear of was their right as Englishmen, and they stood there upon that, with everything else around them in a dark far thicker than the morning gloom out of which the redcoats flashed at the other corner of the green. Major Pitcairne called a halt at some thirty rods, and riding forward swore at the damned rebels and bade them disperse. They stood firm, and he ordered his men to fire ; the soldiers hesitated; but when he drew his pistols and emptied them at the Provincials they discharged a volley and eight of our people fell. They were not a tithe of the enemy in number, and it is doubtful if they returned the fire; then Captain Parker called a retreat and those who were unhurt made their escape, to join later in the long running fight through which the Provincials all day harassed the flight of the Brit- ish from Concord back to Boston. Major Pitcairne 122 LONGFELLOW'S COUNTRY had dispersed a riot and shed the first blood in a seven years' war. The dead men lay on the grass where their children had played a few hours before." From the "Hancock House," we followed the road on to Concord, noting the spot about half way be- tween the two towns where Paul Revere was captured and was led back toward Lexington. The only event to disturb the present-day peacefulness and remind us that tragedy still stalks abroad in the world was the immolation under our car of a chicken which, suddenly seized with some form of dementia, rushed in front of the "speeding" machine, and was cut oflf in the flower of its youth. Soon after we met an auto- wagon belonging to a famous piano concern of Bos- ton. Later, upon our return, we beheld the crew of the auto-wagon roasting the chicken over a slow fire which had been built by the roadside. We were glad of this and felt better contented to know that the chicken had reached its legitimate goal. Its ghost was laid, so to speak, although it had not received the last rites due it from its owners. This semi-pa- thetic, semi-humorous incident will mark more dis- tinctly in our minds the locality of Paul Revere's cap- ture than any lettered milestone. Whatever its slight inaccuracies may be, it is a real bit of history which Longfellow gives us in "Paul Revere's Ride." In the equally popular poem, "The Courtship of Miles Standish," he has developed from a bare statement of fact, a pleasing romance, calling for considerable imagination in the portrayal of the characters. These belong in a historical environment dear to the heart of New England, and this the poet reproduces with faithfulness as far as the atmosphere IDYLS FROM HISTORY 123 is concerned. We see the little, very young town of Plymouth with its one street guarded by a fort which was used also as a church, set down close by the sea in the midst of wilds haunted by the Indians. His- tory tells how, when the Pilgrim Fathers gathered to- gether to confer about their simple state affairs on the hill, they were time after time interrupted by the sudden apparition of an Indian or a party of Indians. None of these, however, proved very fierce. Upon one of these occasions, the chronicler says: "Over against us two or three savages presented themselves, that made semblance of daring us, as we thought. So Captain Standish with another, with their muskets, went over to them, with two of the Master's mates that follow them without arms, having two muskets with them. They whetted and rubbed their arrows and strings, and made show of defiance; but when our men drew near them they ran away." Pictu- resque and stirring is the incident of Samoset, boldly approaching the settlement, alone, and calling out "Welcome" to the newly arrived Pilgrims. He be- came a staunch friend, introducing them to his tribe, the Massasoyts, who proved most loyal neighbors. The contemporary descriptions of these friends of Samoset, which he speedily brought to confer with the Pilgrims, gives a vivid picture of these gentle "salvages." "They had every man a deer's skin on him, and the principle of them had a wild-cat's skin, or such like, on one arm. They had most of them long hosen up to their groins, close made, and above their groins to their waist another leather. They are of com- plexion like our English gipseys; no hair or very 124 LONGFELLOW'S COUNTRY little on their faces ; on their heads long hair to their shoulders, only cut before; some trussed up before with a feather, broad-wise, like a fan ; another a fox- tail." When the King and his followers came to ratify the alliance with the Pilgrims considerable ceremony was observed. The pageant, with its display of one green rug and three or four cushions and its military music of trumpet and drum, must have caused not a little excitement among the hundred or so inhabitants of the small village. After various preliminaries, in- cluding the presentation to the Indian King of the terms of the alliance, the King "came over the brook, and some twenty men following him, leaving all their bows and arrows behind them. We kept six or seven as hostages for our messenger. Captain Standish and Master Williamson met the King at the brook, with half a dozen musketeers. They saluted him, and he them; so one going over, the one on the one side and the other on the other, conducted him to a house then in buildiag, where we placed a green rug and three or four cushions. Then instantly came our gov- ernor, with drum and trumpet after him, and some few musketeers. After salutations our governor kissing his hand, the King kissed him; and so they sat down." It is a pity that such auspicious beginnings with the Indians could not have insured eternal peace; there had, however, been premonitions of another temper among some of the other tribes. If the debonair Samoset came with a greeting of wel- come, there was also the unfriendly gang of Indians who carried terror before them with the unearthly O K < o z; < a IDYLS FROM HISTORY 125 cry "Woach, woach, ha ha hach woach," none the less dreadful because nobody knew what it meant. Not far distant was the day when the Indians yearned to sweep the paleface from off the face of the earth, and succeeded in accomplishing the purpose to an appalling extent. The paleface imfortunately brought it upon himself — ^not as represented by the good people of Plymouth, but by the bad people of Wessagusset, now Weymouth. The recklessness of this colony settled by Weston shortly after Plymouth, came near to destroying all the good influences of the Plymouth colony. These people were not only im- provident, but unruly. To keep from starvation they were driven to hire themselves out among the In- dians that they might share their food. In the end they actually robbed the Indians, who naturally became exasperated and plotted vengeance. The belligerent spirit was whetted by the success of the massacre in Virginia, when the villages along the James River were set upon and the inhabitants to the number of four hundred were cut off by death-deal- ing Indian tomahawks in the short space of an hour. Such news might well alarm the New England settlers. This is the pass to which Indian affairs had come when Longfellow introduces to us Miles Standish. It was on the 23rd of March, 1623, that Standish was called to the council mentioned in the lines: "Meanwhile the choleric captain strode wrathful away to the council, Found it already assembled, impatiently waiting his coming; Men in the middle of life, austere and grave in de- portment." 126 LONGFELLOW'S COUNTRY The account in the old chronicles tells how the gov- ernor laid the evidence before them when the unani- mous voice declared for war. Captain Standish was to take so many men as he thought sufficient to make his party good against all the Indians in Massachu- setts Bay, and he was to adopt the Indian guerilla tactics instead of open defiance. There is something almost grimly humorous in the thought of an army of eight men going forth to battle with all the Indians of the region; yet so it was. Miles Standish set out on his march to Weymouth with eight men and an Indian friend and guide, Hobomok. Governor Winslow's account of the Pecksuot incident, told by Longfellow, is interesting as the rough material from which the poet carved his gem in the way of dramatic narrative. He relates that Pecksuot came to Hobomok and told him "he understood that the cap- tain was come to kill himself and the rest of the sav- ages there. 'Tell him,' said he, 'we know it, but fear him not, neither will we shun him; but let him begin when he dare, he shall not take us at unawares.' Many times after, divers of them severally or few to- gether, came to the plantation to him, where they would whet and sharpen the points of their knives before his face and use many other insulting gestures and speeches. Amongst the rest Wituwamat bragged of the excellency of his knives before his face, and used many other insulting gestures and speeches. On the end of the handle there was pictured a woman's face; 'but,' said he, 'I have another at home, where- with I have killed both French and English, and that hath a man's face on it, and by and by it should eat, but not speak.' Also Pecksuot, being a man of IDYLS FROM HISTORY 12T greater stature than the captain, told him though he were a great captain, yet he was but a httle man; 'and,' said he, 'though I be no sachem, yet I am a man of great strength and courage!' These things the captain observed, yet bore with patience for the present. "On the next day, seeing he could not get many of them together at once, and this Pecksuot and Witu- wamat both together with another man, and a youth of some eighteen years of age, which was brother to Wituwamat, and, villain-like, trod in his steps, daily putting many tricks upon the weaker sort of men, and the door being fast shut, began himself with Pecksuot, and snatching his own knife from his neck, though with much struggling, killed him therewith, the point whereoff he had made as sharp as a needle and ground the back also to an edge. Wituwamat and the other man the rest killed and took the youth, whom the cap- tain caused to be hanged." The rattlesnake-skin episode which Longfellow makes a striking incident of the council scene really occurred some time previous to this in January, 1622, and is related by Governor Winslow in his own slow manner: "At length came one of them to us [the Naragan- setts], who was sent by Conanacus, their chief sachem or king, accompanied with one Tokamahamon, a friendly Indian. This messenger inquired for Tis- quantum, our interpreter, who not being at home, seemed rather to be glad than sorry, and leaving for him a bundle of new arrows, lapped in a rattlesnake's skin, desired to depart with all expedition. But our governor not knowing what to make of this strange 128 LONGFELLOW'S COUNTRY carriage and comparing it with what we had former- ly heard, committed him to the custody of Captain Standish, hoping now to know some certainty of that we so often heard, either by his own relation to us, or to Tisquantum, at his return, desiring myself, hav- ing special familiarity with the other fore-named In- dian, to see if I could learn anything from him; whose answer was sparingly to this effect, that he could not certainly tell us, but thought they were enemies to us. "When Tisquantum returned and the arrows were delivered and the manner of the messenger's carriage related, he signified to the governor that to send the rattlesnake skin in that manner imported enmity, and that it was no better than a challenge. Thereupon, after some deliberation, the governor stuffed the skin with powder and shot, and sent it back, returning no less defiance to Conanacus, assuring him if he had shipping now present, thereby to send his men to Nanohigganset, they should not need to come so far by land to us; yet withal showing that they should never come unwelcome or unlooked for. This mes- sage was sent by an Indian and delivered in such sort, as it was no small terror to this savage king, inso- much that he would not once touch the powder and shot, or suffer it to stay in his house or country. Whereupon the messenger refusing it, another took it up; and having been posted from place to place a long time, at length came whole back again." "Near them was standing an Indian, in attitude stern and defiant. Naked down to the waist, and grim and ferocious in aspect; IDYLS FROM HISTORY 129 While on the table before them was lying unopened a Bible, Ponderous, bound in leather, brass-studded, printed in Holland, And beside it outstretched the skin of a rattlesnake glittered, Filled, hke a quiver, with arrows; a signal and chal- lenge of warfare. Brought by the Indian, and speaking with arrowy tongues of defiance." After some debate in regard to what is to be done, it is Standish, not the governor, who returns the chal- lenge, according to Longfellow, and in a manner far more impressive than history has it: " 'Leave this matter to me, for to me by right it per- taineth. War is a terrible trade; but in the cause that is righteous. Sweet is the smell of powder; and thus I answer the challenge!' "Then from the rattlesnake's skin, with a sudden con- temptuous gesture. Jerking the Indian arrows, he filled it with powder and bullets Full to the very jaws, and handed it back to the savage, Saying, in thundering tones: 'Here, take it! this is your answer!' Silently out of the room then glided the glistening savage. Bearing the serpent's skin, and seeming himself like a serpent. Winding his sinuous way in the dark to the depths of the forest." 130 LONGFELLOW'S COUNTRY The record of the love-story is very slight. It was handed down by tradition until about 1812, when per- haps the first printed narrative appeared in the Rev. Timothy Alden's "Collection of American Epitaphs and Inscriptions." Longfellow's version of the story has itself taken on almost the authenticity of a tradi- tion. Not long ago I chanced upon a history of the Pilgrims, which remarked that no doubt the poet had looked carefully into the records of the time and had been minutely accurate. It then went on to tell as history the account given in the poem. How much the poet embellished and developed the legend may be seen by comparing it with the Rev. Timothy Alden's narrative : "It is well known that of the first company consist- ing of one hundred and one, about one-half died in six months after the landing in consequence of the hardships they were called to encounter. Mrs. Rose Standish, consort of Captain Standish, departed this life on the twenty-ninth of January, 1621. This cir- cxmistance is mentioned as an introduction to the fol- lowing anecdote, which has been carefully handed down by tradition. In a very short time after the de- cease of Mrs. Standish, the captain was led to think that if he could obtain Miss Priscilla Mullins, a daughter of Mr. William Mullins, the break in his family would be happily repaired. He, therefore, according to the custom of those times, sent to ask Mr. Mullins' permission to visit his daughter. John Alden, the messenger, went and faithfully communi- cated the wishes of the captain. "The old gentleman did not object, as he might have done, on account of the recency of Captain n D Q O Q 12; en w H IDYLS FROM HISTORY 131 Standish's bereavement. He said it was perfectly agreeable to him, but the young lady must also be consulted. The damsel was then called into the room, and John Alden, who is said to have been a man of most excellent form, with a fair and ruddy complexion, arose, and, in a very courteous and pre- possessing manner, delivered his errand. Miss Mul- lins listened with respectful attention, and at last after a considerable pause, fixing her eyes upon him with an open and pleasant countenance, said: 'Prithee, John, why do you not speak for yourself?' He blushed and bowed, and took his leave, but with a look which indicated more than his diffidence would permit him otherwise to express. However, he soon renewed his visit, and it was not long before their nup- tials were celebrated in ample form. From them are descended all of the name, Alden, in the United States. What report he made to his constituent after the first interview, tradition does not unfold: but it is said, how true the writer knows not, that the cap- tain never forgave them to the day of his death." The chronicles of the time give only the military doings of Miles Standish, but even from these one gathers much of the interesting personality of the man, who had gained his experiences in war against that most terrible of all foes, the Duke of Alva. It is strange what a mere chance it was that caused his fortunes to become so indissolubly bound up with those of this country. Sent to the Netherlands as a commissioned officer in an English regiment by Queen Elizabeth, he fought against the cruel armies of the Inquisition. After peace was declared he re- mained in the Netherlands, and, as has been suggest- 132 LONGFELLOW'S COUNTRY ed, may have become interested in the fierce theological disputes of the Calvinists and the Armenians which raged in the Low Countries from 1609 to 1620. He was not himself a churchman, but whatever the cause, he attached himself to the English exiles, who in Leyden had taken refuge from the persecution of the English, and when they sailed for America in the Mayflower, he came with them, fortunately — else the Plymouth colony might have met the same terrible fate as the Virginia colony. How much he became interested in religious affairs is shown by the inven- tory of his library, consisting of about forty books, of which twenty were devotional or religious. There were also the books for the soldier — Cesar's "Com- mentaries," "Bariffe's Artillery," as Longfellow de- scribes, and not one Bible but three: "Fixed to the opposite wall was a shelf of books, and among them Prominent three, distinguished alike for bulk and for binding; Bariffe's Artillery Guide, and the Commentaries of Cassar, Out of the Latin translated by Arthur Goldinge of London, And, as if guarded by these, between them was standing the Bible. Musing a moment before them. Miles Standish paused, as if doubtful Which of the three he should choose for his consola- tion and comfort, Whether the wars of the Hebrews, the famous cam- paigns of the Romans, Or the artillery practice, designed for belligerent Christians." IDYLS FROM HISTORY 133 After the manner of titles in the days of Queen Elizabeth, the title of this last was interminable — almost a course in military tactics by itself: "Mih- tary Discipline; or the young Artillery man, where- in is discoursed and shown the Postures, both of Mus- ket and Pike, the exactest way, etc., together with the Exercise of the Foot in their Motions, with much va- riety: As also, diverse and several Forms for the Im- batteling small or great Bodies demonstrated by the nimiber of a single company with their Reducements. Very necessary for all such as are studious in the Art Military. Whereunto is also added the Postures and Beneficial! Use of the Halfe Pike Joyned with the Musket. With the way to* draw up the Swedish Brigade." Although according to the tradition. Miles Stand- ish never forgave John Alden, history says that he married Barbara, the orphan sister of Rose Stand- ish, who was left in England and for whom he sent. Thus it seems quite probable that he was reconciled, as Longfellow puts it, with his old friend, John Alden, who in the assignments of houses and the division into households in 1621, is found imder the roof presided over by Captain Miles Standish, the first house imder Fort Hill. The more one can gather about Miles Standish — his courage, his loyalty, his good sense and his skill, the more one feels how much his memory should be honored. One experiences a slight sense of irrita- tion at Priscilla, not that she did not love him, but that she should have shown so little appreciation of what his services meant in the preservation of the colony, as to be afraid of him on accovmt of his valor. 134 LONGFELLOW'S COUNTRY "Thus the first battle was fought and won by the stalwart Miles Standish. When the tidings thereof were brought to the village of Plymouth, And as a trophy of war the head of the brave Wattawamat Scowled from the roof of the fort, which was at once a church and a fortress, All who beheld it rejoiced, and praised the Lord, and took courage. Only Priscilla averted her face from this spectre of terror, Thanking God in her heart that she had not mar- ried Miles Standish; Shrinking, fearing almost, lest, coming home from his battles, He should lay claim to her hand, as the prize and reward of his valor." Appreciation of the services of MUes Standish to his country finally took very palpable shape in the formation of a Monument Association in 1871, when the site for a monument on Monument Hill at Dux- bury was consecrated with great ceremony. The orator of the occasion was General Horace Binney whose eloquence brings out with peculiar emphasis just what manner of man this Miles Standish was : "With the memory of one act of singularly resolute daring when, in obedience to the Colonial orders to crush a great Indian conspiracy, he took a squad of eight picked men into the forests, and deemed it prudent to kiU the most turbulent warrior with his own hands, we may imagine how the Pilgrim sol- dier, friend and associate of Brewster, disciple of the saintly Robinson, rose from the perusal of one of the IDYLS FROM HISTORY 135 old Bibles, or of "Ball on Faith," "Sparks Against Heresie," or "Dodd on the Lord's Supper," to stab Pecksuot to the heart with his own knife; a giant who had taunted him with his small stature, in almost the very words of Goliath in his insulting sneer at David, long before; and to cut off the head of Watuwamat, which bloody trophy the elders had ordered him to bring home with him. "Yet the all-daring contempt for peril, the rough- ness of temper, the masterly economy with which Standish saved human life by consummate indiffer- ence to personal homicide upon prudent occasions, his power of breathing his own fiery heart into a handful of followers, till he made them an army able to withstand a host in the narrow gates of death, would lead us to expect such a colleague for the saintly Brewster as little as we should expect to see Sheridan prominent among the Methodists. "From the first anchorage Captain Standish as the soldier of the company was charged with all deeds of adventure. At first certain grave elders were sent with him for counsel. But ultimately, his repute in affairs, both civil and military, was such that he was for many years the treasurer of the colony, and during a period of difficulty their agent in England. They invested him with the general command. Even in extreme old age — the very year that he died 'very ancient and full of dolorous pains' — ^he received his last and fullest commission against new enemies, his old friends, the Dutch." When the cornerstone of the monument was laid, October 7, 1872, there were ten thousand people present to witness the ceremonies in which partici- 136 LONGFELLOW'S COUNTRY pated the Ancient and Honorable Artillery Company of Boston, and several Masonic lodges. Under the cornerstone was placed a metallic plate with the fol- lowing inscription : The Cobner Stone of the Standish Memorial in commemoration of the character and services of Captain Myles Standish, The First Commissioned Military Officer of New England Laid on the smnmit of Captain's Hill in Duxbury under the Superintendance of The Ancient and Honorable Artillery Company of Massachusetts, In presence of The Standish Monument Association, By the M. W- Grand Lodge of Free Masons, of Massachusetts M. W. Sereno D. Nickerson, Grand Master On the seventh day of October, A. D. 1872. Being the Two Hundred and Fifty-second Year since the First Settlement of New England By the Pilgrim Fathers. Site consecrated August 17, 1871. Association incorporated May 4, 1872. Association organized and ground broken June 17, 1872. Corner of foxmdation laid August 9, 1872. IDYLS FROM HISTORY 137 The handsome youth, John Alden, grew also to he a very important personage in the Plymouth colony. His qualities, though not of so picturesque a nature as those of Miles Standish, were' of equal importance in assuring the success of the colony. He appears first as one of its financial backers or "Undertakers," as they were called, of which there were eight. The responsibility of the position was great, for if any- thing should happen that liabilities could not be met, and such was only too likely to be the case in an ad- venturous undertaking of this sort — the debtors' prison was a horror to be reckoned with in the mother- land whence they had fled. He never, however, shirked the burden, remaining an "Undertaker" until the debt was wiped out, in 1646. As agent for the colony, he had a general oversight of business affairs. He was surveyor of the highways also, and in 1633 he was a member of the board of assistants to the gov- ernor. He held this post on and off until, in 1650, he was again appointed on this board and held it until his death in 1686. He was also almost continuously deputy from the town of Duxbury which he repre- sented on the Colonial Councils. Though identified chiefly with the administrative duties belonging to times of peace, he was evidently not behindhand in times of war, joining not only in the councils of war, but being enrolled along with his two sons, John and Joseph, among the eighty Duxbury men forming its military organization. To his administrative abilities he added the qualities of piety and godliness, proven to all posterity forever by the imprint of his own pious thumb on his own Bible preserved in Plymouth Hall. That he must 138 LONGFELLOW'S COUNTRY have had a winning personality is rendered certain by the golden opinions which were current about him. Gentle and faithful in character, and the tallest and handsomest man in the colony. Such was the John Alden the world knew. The John Alden Priscilla knew we find, as portrayed by the imagination of the poet, more fascinating, if hardly so talented a being. As a hero of romance the all- consuming interest of his life is his love for Priscilla. He comes to America solely for the purpose of being near Priscilla, and having decided to be a loyal friend to Miles Standish and crush out his own love, he de- termines to sail back to England on the Mayflower — "Thinking to fly from despair, that swifter than keel is or canvas. Thinking to drown in the sea the ghost that would rise and pursue him. But as he gazed on the crowd, he beheld the form of PriscUla Standing dejected among them, unconscious of all that was passing. Fixed were her eyes upon his, as if she divined his intention, Fixed with a look so sad, so reproachful, imploring and patient. That with a sudden revulsion his heart recoiled from its purpose. As from the verge of a crag, where one step more is destruction. Strange is the heart of man, with its quick, mys- terious instincts! Strange is the life of man, and fatal or fated are moments. Whereupon turn, as on hinges, the gates of the wall adamantine ! IDYLS FROM HISTORY 139 'Here I remain!' he exclaimed, as he looked at the heavens above him, Thanking the Lord whose breath had scattered the mist and the madness, Wherein, blind and lost, to death he was stagger- ing headlong. 'Here for her sake will I stay, and like an invisible presence Hover around her forever, protecting, supporting her weakness ; Yes! as my foot was the first that stepped on this rock at the landing. So, with the blessing of God, shall it be the last at the leaving!' " Priscilla's history does not seem to have been writ- ten. It is merely recorded that Priscilla was the daughter of Mr. and Mrs. MuUins, and that she had one brother. They all came over in the Mayflower, accompanied by one servant. Father, mother and brother all died the first winter and Priscilla was left an orphan. Though the whole development of the love story and the portrayal of the feelings of the three char- acters in it are imaginary, the poet has taken what hints he foimd to build upon for the general presen- tation of the qualities distinguishing Miles Standish and John Alden. The portrayal of Miles is naturally more in time with history than that of John. Even his ancestry and the injustice he suffered through not receiving his inheritance are cleverly brought in as reasons by John why Priscilla should admire him and accept the offer of his hand. John is so pre-eminently the handsome young lover, "fair-haired, azure-eyed, with delicate 140 LONGFELLOW'S COUNTRY Saxon complexion," that the thought of him in the prosaic aspect of the backer in a financial way of the colony is wisely not brought forward. The his- torical setting to the love story is not slavishly accurate as to succession of events, but it is a wonderfully true picture of the life of the colony, divided between the exercise of piety, warfare with the Indians, and the building up of a means of livelihood. Many a local touch gives vraisemblance to the scenes described. For example, when Miles is called to the council of war, the voice of the elder is raised against war. "Judging it wise and well that some, at least, were converted," the sentiment actually expressed by John Robinson after the first encounter with the Indians, who wrote to the Colonists: "Oh, how happy a thing it had been if you had converted some before you had killed any." Again, when the Mayflower sails the poet describes how — "Mournfully sobbed the waves at the base of the rock, and above them Bowed and whispered the wheat on the hill of death, and their kindred Seemed to awake in their graves, and to join in the prayer that they uttered." This refers to the fact that in order that the In- dians should not know how many of the Pilgrims had died during the winter by counting their graves, they had the bank which was a little distance from Plym- outh Rock, where they were buried, leveled, and sown with grass. Priscilla's ride home from her wedding on a snow- white bull is also in keeping with the time, for heads IDYLS FROM HISTORY 141 of cattle were divided by lot among the settlers, and horses being scarce, cattle were pressed into service where otherwise horses woidd have been used. I have read somewhere in an account purporting to be historical that "when John Alden went to Cape Cod to marry Priscilla MuUins, he covered his bull with broadcloth and rode on his back; when he re- turned, he placed his wife there and led the bull home by the ring in his nose." It looks much as if the story about the bull had been derived from Longfellow's poem, but how Priscilla was transplanted to Cape Cod is a mystery. She and John both lived in Plym- outh and were married there, though later they moved to Duxbury, as did also Miles Standish and various others who wished larger farmsteads. The name was given the settlement, of course, from Duxbury Hall, the ancestral home of Miles Standish. The up-to-date pilgrim taking his rapid way by train to Duxbury from Plymouth, will see not far from the station on the right, the second home built by John Alden in Duxbury, still occupied by descend- ants of John and Priscilla with the same names. Not far from the present house is a knoll marked by a slab where the first house stood. The scenery in the neighborhood is rural and peaceful. There are meadows and gardens, and wood lots, with houses of many types distributed about the landscape, from the old-time dwelling to the natty modern cottage. The monotony of level meadowland is varied every now and then by a hill or groups of hills, one such rise of the land protecting the Alden house from the sea- winds. Perhaps the most interesting features of the landscape are the eagle-trees, standing solitary in the 142 LONGFELLOW'S COUNTRY midst of swampy fields near the lake which is named from them "Eagle Lake." These ancient trees, which show in their gnarled and twisted branches their long endurance of ocean winds and cold, were once the favorite perches of eagles, now no longer to be found in this region. Those who have a penchant for historic old houses will like to enter the penetralia of the Alden house. In the days when this house was built, the kitchen fire was the altar of the household gods and around it the manifold occupations of the women inmates were car- ried on. In this instance the kitchen is a long nar- row room about twelve feet wide and forty feet long with a huge fireplace on one side. This room served not only as kitchen and dining-room, but as nursery, sewing-room and spinning-room. There also the family gathered about the fire in the evening. In many a New England cottage to-day the kitchen holds the same important place in the life of the house- hold, while the parlor is so cold and stuffy that it is rarely entered. In the Alden house, however, there are two other fine rooms, in which the family or guests might assemble. One, called in the olden times, the Great Room, with a fine large fireplace, which has, however, given place in later days to a wooden panel- ing and a small iron grate. A corner cupboard is built in one corner of the room, and near it is a panel of wood which may be raised, disclosing the date of the erection of the house, cut into the planking, 1653. Next the Great Room is another which was called the Best Room or parlor, of about the same size. In the hall is a curious ladder-like stairway over the chim- ney which leads to the sleeping-rooms above. The Hi n Q o O IDYLS FROM HISTORY 143 most interesting object upstairs is a door in the guest- room supposed to have been transferred from the first house built on the Duxbury farm, and which may have been made by John Alden himself, for it is said that he knew well how to use tools. The house occupied by Miles Standish in Duxbury no longer exists, but there is still standing one built by his son, Alexander, in which there are supposed to be timbers taken from the old house. Miles Stand- ish owned all the land to the south of Captain's Hill, where his monument now stands. The site of his barn is pointed out near a large rock called the Cap- tain's Chair. There is no more delectable spot in Duxbury than this hill with its wonderful view. Away off to the east are the white sandhills of Cape Cod, glistening on sunlit days beyond the Italian blue of the ocean. Beach and lighthouse and sails make the foreground familiar in most sea-shore places, none of which, however, is without some distinctive individuality of its own. To the south across the bay is the promontory of Manomet, with the town of Plymouth below and the neighboring villages of Rocky Nook and Kingston. Inland, far to the north- west loom up the Milton Hills, with forest and fields for foreground, and the villages of Duxbury and Marshfield dotting the green rolling country with their white cottages. THE NEW ENGLAND TRAGEDIES "How has New England's romance 'fled. Even as a vision of the morning! Its rites foredone, its guardians dead. Its priestesses, bereft of dread. Waiting the veriest urchin's scorning! Gone nice the Indian wizard's yell And fire-dance round the magic rock. Forgotten liJce the Druid's spell At moonrise by his holy oalc! « * « « * No pale blue flame sends out its flashes Through creviced roof and shattered sashes! The witch-grass round the hazel spring May sharply to the night-air sing. But there no more shall withered hags Refresh at ease their broomstick nags. Or taste those hazel- shadowed wafers As beverage meet for Satan's daughters; No more their mimic tones be heard. The mew of cat, the chirp of bird, Shrill blending with the hoarser laughter Of the fell demon following after!" Whittieb. IV THE two other important historical periods used by Longfellow in his poetry are those dealing with the Quaker persecution and with the withcraft persecution. "John Endicott" and "GUes Corey" are more avowedly than any of his other American poems, attempts to reconstruct important episodes in the nation's history, especially its religious history. They form the third part of his magnum opus^ "Christus," the work more near to his heart than any- thing else he has written. The composition of it ex- tended over a period of thirty years. As early as November, 1841, he notes in his journal: "This even- ing it has come into my mind to undertake a long and elaborate poem by the holy name of "Christ"; the theme of which would be the various aspects of Chris- tendom in the Apostolic, Middle and Modern Ages." It was not until 1873 that the work was published in its completed form. The middle portion, "The Golden Legend," appeared first in December, 1851 ; the third portion, "The New England Tragedies," in- cluding the two plays, "John Endicott" and "Giles Corey," in October, 1868, and the first portion, "The Divine Tragedy," was the last pubhshed, in 1871. "John Endicott" follows closely the contemporary 147 148 LONGFELLOW'S COUNTRY records of the Quaker persecution in Boston. The names are historical with the exception of Edith, the daughter of Wenlock Christison, who is an imaginary person in her relationship to Wenlock, no daughter of his being mentioned in the records. The tale of her woes and the undaunted religious strength of her character are, however, paralleled by many a one of maltreated Quakeresses of the day. The part of John Endicott, son of Governor Endicott, is also imagi- nary. Longfellow has intensified artistically the situation by making him sympathize with the Quakers and fall in love with Edith. The poet derived most of his subject-matter from Besse's account of the sufferings of the Quakers, a record of man's brutality forming a chapter in hu- man annals so dark as to be almost incomprehensible. This book was published in London, 1753, and was based upon original records of the persecutions, not only in New England, but in England, Ireland, Scot- land, Germany and divers other places where the so- called heresy had penetrated. Herein it is related how in July of 1656, "Two women of that persuasion [Quakers] arrived in a vessel from Barbadoes in the road before Boston. Intelligence of their arrival being given to Richard Bellingham, the Deputy Governor (the Governor himself being out of town), he immediately ordered them to be detained on board and sent officers who searched their trunks and chests and took away one hundred books which they carried on shore. The danger which was apprehended from the arrival of these women and the spreading of their books, pro- duced the following order: NEW ENGLAND TRAGEDIES 149 " 'Whereas, there are several laws long since made and published in this jurisdiction, bearing testimony against Hereticks and erroneous Persons, yet not- withstanding Simon Kempthorne of Charles-Town, Master of the ship Swallow of Boston, hath brought into this Jurisdiction, from the Island of Barbadoes, two women, who name themselves Anne, the Wife of one Austin, and Mary Fisher, being of that Sort of People commonly known by the name of Quakers, who, upon examination, are found not only to be Transgressors of the former Laws, but do hold very dangerous heretical and blasphemous opinions, and they do also acknowledge that they came here pur- posely to propagate their said Errors and Heresies, bringing with them and spreading here sundry books, wherein are contained most corrupt. Heretical and blasphemous Doctrines, contrary to the Truth of the Gospel here professed among us. The cotmcil, therefore, tendring the Preservation of the Peace and Truth enjoyed and professed among Churches of Christ in this Country, do hereby order: " 'First, That all such corrupt Books, as shall be found upon Search, to be brought in and spread by the aforesaid Persons, be forthwith burned and de- stroyed by the common Executioner. " 'Secondly, That the said Anne and Mary be kept in close Prison, and none admitted communica- tion with them without leave from the Governor, Deputy Governor or two magistrates, to prevent the spreading of their corrupt opinions, until such Time as they be delivered aboard of some vessel to be trans- ported out of the country. " 'Thirdly, The said Simon Kempthorne is here- 150 LONGFELLOW'S COUNTRY by enjoined, speedily and directly to transport or cause to be transported, the said prisoners from heuce to Barbadoes, from whence they came, defraying all the charges of their Imprisonment, and for the effect- ual Performance hereof, he is to give Security in a Bond of one Himdred Pounds Sterling, and on his Refusal to give such Security, he is to be committed to Prison till he do it.' " The women were imprisoned and so badly treated that "their case excited the compassion of Nicholas Upshall, an old inhabitant in Boston, and a member of the church there, so that he gave the goaler five shillings a week for the hberty of sending them pro- visions, lest they should be starved." In Longfellow's drama, Edith is among the Quaker passengers on the Swallow, and is harbored with Edward Wharton, under the hospitable roof of Nicholas Upshall, whence they are rudely carried off to prison. Another record gives an accoimt of this arrest of Edward Wharton : "Anon they met with Edward Wharton in their search at Nicholas Up- shall's house, and questioned him, whether he was not one that spake at the Quaker's Meeting? He de- manded of them. What they had to do to examine him? We have a Warrant, said they. Let me see it, said he. When they showed it, he told them. His name was not in it. You shall go before the Gov- ernor, said the Constable. But Edward refused to go without a Warrant. Upon that the Constable drew out his black staff and said, Here is my War- rant. Then they dragged him by Violence out of the House, and led him away to the Governor's: The Governor, though he knew Edward full well, and n '■^ 3 o u CO s I? O o o o en o I-] Q o Eel W H ■^ o 0) c3 -p CI D ^ r^ o -P t: ■s CI ^ u o u pq NEW ENGLAND TRAGEDIES 151 that he was an inhabitant of the Colony, a Tradesman of good Circumstances, and a reputable Housekeep- er, yet presently told him. He should suffer as a Vag- abond: To which Edward rephed, I defy the Life of a Vagabond: That Law is a wicked Law, and very wicked and imrighteous Men are they that cause those who fear the Lord to suffer by such a wicked Law. But his Plea availed not: The Governor, resolved on Rigour, turned the deaf Ear to all his Reasoning, and issued the following Warrant, viz. : " 'To the Constable of Boston, or his Deputy, and of Lynn, and his Deputy: " 'You are hereby required, in his Majesty's Name, to commit the Body of Edward Wharton to safe Cus- tody till the next Morning, and then to take him out of Prison, and cause him to be tied to a Cart's Tail, and whipped through this Town, and delivered to the Constable of Lynn, to be alike whipped, and by him to be carried to Salem, the Place of his Abode, from whence as a Vagabond he hath strayed, and re- fused to give a satisfactory answer for such a vagrant Life: Whereof you are not to fail. Dated the 4th of May, 1664. " 'John Endicott.' " The trial of Wenlock Christison is given with lively dramatic force in this old book, and furnished for the poet important material for the developing of the characters of both Wenlock and Endicott. As this rare book does not come to the hands of many read- ers, we transcribe the trial scene — as a curious bit of literature showing how insanely unjust really reputa- 152 LONGFELLOW'S COUNTRY ble people could be when obsessed by any form of fanaticism. Trial of Wenlock Christison. But above all most eminently remarkable was the Christian courage and magnanimity of Wenlock Christison, who having been banished on pain of death, not only returned as it were with his life in his hands to Boston, but openly came into the court there at the time when they were passing sentence of death upon William Leddra. His appearance there struck the Court with a sudden damp and consterna- tion, so that for some time there was a general silence. But, anon, recovering themselves, they ordered him to be brought to the bar. The marshall bid him pull off his hat. Wenlock. No, I shall not. Secretary Rawson. Is not your name Wenlock Christison? Wenlock. Yes. Governor Endicott. Wast not thou bamshed upon pain of Death? Wenlock. Yes, I was. Governor. What dost thou here then? Wenlock. I am come to warn you, that you should shed no more innocent blood ; for the blood that you have shed already, cries to the Lord for Vengeance to come upon you. Whereupon the Governor ordered to take him into custody. On the day that WiUiam Leddra was executed, the Court sat again, and thinking to terrify Wenlock by the Example of William's Death, sent for him; when NEW ENGLAND TRAGEDIES 158 both the Governor Endicott and his Deputy Belling- ham endeavoured to daunt that valiant confessor with bloody Menaces, telling him, that Except he would renounce his religion he should surely die. But he, not at all dismayed, answered thus. Nay, I shall not change my Religion, nor seek to save my life: neither do I intend to deny my master, but if I love my life for Christ's Sake, and the preaching of the Gospel, I shall save it. This undaunted reply so struck them for the present that after a few words they sent him to prison again, there to be kept till the next Court. At the next Court the Governor asked him what he had to say for himself why he should not die? Wenlock. I have done nothing worthy of death; if I had I refuse not to die. Governor. Thou art come in among us in Re- bellion, which is as the Sin of Witch-craft and ought to be punished. Wenlock. I came not in among you in Rebellion, but in Obedience to the God of Heaven; not in Con- tempt to any of you, but in Love to your Souls and Bodies: and that you shall know one Day, when you and all Men must give an Account of your Deeds done in the body. Take heed, for you cannot es- cape the righteous judgments of God. Major-General Adderton. You pronounce woes and judgments, and those that are gone before you pronounce woes and judgments; but the judgments of the Lord God are not come upon us yet. Wenlock. Be not proud, neither let your Spirits be lifted up; God doth but wait till the measure of your Iniquity be filled up, and that you have run your ungodly Race, then will the Wrath of God come 154 LONGFELLOW'S COUNTRY upon you to the uttermost: And as for thy past it hangs over thy Head, and is near to be poured down upon thee, and shall come as a thief in the night sud- denly, when thou thinkest not of it. By what Law will ye put me to death? Court. We have a Law, and by our Law you are to die. Wenloch. So said the Jews of Christ. We have a Law, and by our Law he ought to die. Who em- powered you to make that Law? Court, We have a patent, and are Patentees. Judge whether we have not Power to make Laws? Wenloch. How? Have you Power to make Laws repugnant to the Laws of England? Governor. Nay. Wenlock. Then you are gone beyond your Bounds, and have forfeited your Patent, and this is more than you can answer. Are you Subjects to the King, yea, or nay? Secretary Bawson. What will you infer from that, what good will that do you? Wenlock. If you are, say so ; for in your Petition to the King, you desire that he will protect you and that you may be worthy to kneel among his loyal Sub- jects. Court. Yes. Wenlock. So am I, and for any thing I know, am as good as you, if not better; for if the King did but know your Hearts, as God knows them, he would see that your Hearts are as rotten towards him, as they are towards God. Therefore, seeing that you and I are Subjects to the King, I demand to be tried by the Law of my own Nation. NEW ENGLAND TRAGEDIES 155 Court. You shall be tried by a Bench and a Jury. Wenloch. That is not the Law, but the Manner of it; for if you will be as good as your Word, you must set me at Liberty, for I never heard or read of any Law that was in England to hang Quakers. Governor. There is a law to hang Jesuits. Wenloch. If you put me to Death, it is not be- cause I go under the name of a Jesuit, but a Quaker, therefore I do appeal to the Laws of my own Nation. Court. You are in our Hands, and have broken ova Laws, and we will try you. Wenloch. Your Will is your Law, and what you have Power to do, that you will do. And seeing that the Jury must go forth on my Life, this I have to say to you in the Fear of the Living God, That you will true Trial make, and just Verdict give, according to the Evidence. Jury, look for your Evidence: Wliat have I done to deserve Death? Keep your Hands out of innocent Blood. A Juryman. It is good Counsel. The Jury went out, but having received their Les- son, soon returned and brought in their Verdict Guilty. Wenloch. I deny all Guilt, for my Conscience is clear in the Sight of God. Governor. The Jury hath condemned thee. Wenloch. The Lord doth justify me, who art thou that condemnest? Then the Court proceeded to vote as to the Sentence of Death, to which several of them, viz., Richard Rus- sell and others, would not consent, the Innocence and Steadfastness of the Man having prevailed upon them in his Favour. There happened also a circumstance 156 LONGFELLOW'S COUNTRY during this Trial, which could not but affect Men of any Tenderness or Consideration, which was, that a Letter was sent to the Court from Edward Wharton, signifying, That, whereas, they had banished him on pain of Death, yet he was at Home in his own House in Salem, and therefore proposing That they would take off their wicked Sentence from him, that he might go about his Occasions out of their Jurisdiction. This Circumstance, however affecting to others, did only enrage Endicott, the Governor, who was very much displeased, and in much anger cried out, I could find it in my heart to go Home. Wenlock. It were better for thee to be at Home than here, for thou art about a bloody piece of Work. Governor. You that will not consent, record it. T thank God I am not afraid to give Judgment. Wen- lock Christison, hearken to your Sentence: You must return unto the Place from whence you came, and from thence to the Place of Execution, and there you must be hanged until you be dead, dead, dead, upon the 13th Day of Jxme, being the Fifth day of the Week. Wenlock. The Will of the Lord be done: In whose Will I came amongst you, and in his Counsel I stand, feeling his Eternal Power, that wiU uphold me unto the last Gasp, I do not question it. Known be it unto you all. That if you have 'Power to take my Life from me, my Soul shall enter into Ever- lasting Rest and Peace with God, where you, your- selves, shall never come: And if you have Power to take my Life from me, the which I do question, I be- lieve you shall nevermore take Quakers' Lives from them: [Note my Words.] Do not think to weary NEW ENGLAND TRAGEDIES 157 out the Living God by taking away the Lives of his Servants: What do you gain by it? For the last Man you put to Death, here are five come in his Room, that you may have Torment upon Torment, which is your Portion: For there is no Peace to the Wicked, saith my God. Governor. Take him away. So the Goaler had him back to Prison, where he continued in Faith and Patience, ready to abide the good Pleasure of God concern- ing him, and to suffer Death for a good Con- science, as his Brethren had done before him. But before the Day appointed for his Execution, an Order of Court (probably occasioned by some Intel- ligence from London, of Complaints against them) was issued for the Enlargement of him and twenty- seven others then in Prison for the same Testimony : When one of the Marshals and a Constable came to the Prison, and told them, they were ordered by the Court to make them acquainted with their New Law, Wenlock Christison said. What means this? Have ye a New Law? They answered. Yes. Then said Wenlock, You have deceived most People. Why? said they. Because, said Wenlock, they did think the Gallows had been your last Weapon : Have you got more yet? Yes, said they. Read it, says Wenlock ; which they did. Then Wenlock said. Your Magistrates said, that your Law was a good and wholesome Law, made for your Peace, .and the Safe- guard of your Country. What! Are your Hands now become weak? The Power of God is over you all. Then the Prison-doors were set open, and Wen- lock, with twenty-seven others, turned forth, of whom 158 LONGFELLOW'S COUNTRY Peter Pearson and Judith Brown were whipt with twenty cruel Stripes through the Town of Boston, on their naked Backs: Many of their Mouths were opened, and they published the Truth among the People. A Guard armed with Swords was appoint- ed by the Court to drive them all out of that Jurisdic- tion into the Wilderness Coimtry, which they per- formed accordingly. Norton, the divine, who figures in the opening meeting-house scene, was one of the most intolerant of the Puritans in his denimciation of the Quakers. He wrote a small book, published in Cambridge, 1659, and in London 1560, still to be found in libraries in its original editions, of which the title and headings of chapters alone, are enough to show the temper of the book. Here is the title : "The Heart of New England Rent at the Blas- phemies of the present Generation Or a brief trac- tate Concerning the Doctrine of the Quakers, Dem- onstrating the destructive nature thereof, to Religion, the Churches, and the State; with consideration of the Remedy against it. Occasional Satisfaction to Objections, and Confirmation of the contrary Truth." The contents show the lines o^rgument taken up, which it is unnecessary to say are dwelt upon at weari- some and unconvincing length spite of the slimness of the little volume. "Chapter I. The Original of the Doctrine of the Quakers, with some of their principal Heterodoxies. A Brief Demonstration of three Distinct Persons in NEW ENGLAND TRAGEDIES 159 the Divine Essence. Satisfactions to some Objec- tions, and a vindication of some Scriptures. "Chapter II. Of the Signal Nature of the Quakers and other false Teachers, arising and pre- vailing among the people of God. "Chapter III. Of the Destructiveness of the Doctrine and Practise of the Quakers unto Religion, the Churches of Christ, and Christian States. "Chapter IV. Of the Remedy against Heretical Doctrines, and in particular against the Doctrine of the Quakers." The sentence passed upon Edith by the Court that she be "Scourged in three towns, with forty stripes save one. Then banished upon pain of death!" is one only too frequently recorded. The shocking tale of the repeated cruelty practised upon Elizabeth Horton is especially suggestive of Edith's fate: "Elizabeth Horton, who notwithstanding all the cruel usage she had sustained, was nothing terrified, but returned again to Boston, and there publickly warned the People of Repentance, and of the terri- ble Day of the Lord, which would otherwise overtake them : This Message of hers was received with Scorn, her godly admonitions rejected, and she herself sent to the House of Correction, and there whipt at a whipping-post with ten Stripes; thence she was sent to Roxbury, and there whipt at a Cart's Tail, and from thence to Dedham, where the same cruel Pun- ishment was repeated: Thence she was had to Med- 160 LONGFELLOW'S COUNTRY field, and the same night hurried into the Wilderness, and there left to pass above twenty Miles with her body thus miserably torn and mangled, in an extreme cold Season." In depicting the character of Governor Endicott, Longfellow evidently depended largely upon the ac- counts given of him in "New England Judged by the Spirit of the Lord," a book dealing with the Quaker persecution, by George Bishop and printed in London in 1703. According to this, Governor Endi- cott had been much beloved by some of the very peo- ple he afterwards persecuted. A letter from a former neighbor of his, John Smith, in Salem, bears witness to this. In the course of this letter he exclaims : "Oh! my spirit is grieved for thee, because that the love I did once see in thee, is departed from thee, and there remaineth in thee a spirit of cruelty, of hard- heartedness to thy poor neighbours, which thou hast formerly been much beholden to, and relieved by in time of want, when thou hadst no bread to eat. Oh! Consider of these times, and forget them not, and of the love thou didst find amongst poor people in thy necessity, and how evil thou hast dealt, and requited some of them now, and how thou didst walk and act contrary to what thou didst formerly profess; yea, I have heard thee say: 'That all the armies on earth cannot subdue one lust in man or woman;' and now thou pronouncest sentence of death upon some, be- cause they cannot submit to your wills, nor worship as ye do." And again he is spoken of as "A man who formerly had some tenderness in him and who had degenerated into hardness and cruelty, a cruelty which Longfellow makes him show even to his son." NEW ENGLAND TRAGEDIES 161 It is certainly a strange circumstance that just as the Quakers were constantly predicting, judgment apparently did fall upon those men who seemed fair- ly to have lost their reason in their treatment of alien religionists. Of Endicott it is written, soon after signing a war- rant for the barbarous whipping of Edward Wharton, "But as for John Endicott, your cruel and unmerciful governor, he fought no more bloody battles with the people of the Lord, but as if this were the comple- ment of his miserable tragedy, or the height of all that which he travailed with during the days of his government, which showed consummate or complete his wickedness, or fill up the measure of his iniquity, rapine, cruelty, and blood, and that which should sum up all the end of his days and the measure of his iniquity, he died not long after, the hand of the Lord struck him off." Among others suddenly "struck off" and referred to by Longfellow were Humphrey Adderton ( Ather- ton), "who vaunted concerning the Judgments of God, saying, 'They were not come yet,' and said, 'That Mary Dyer hung as a flag of warning,' was kUled by a fall off his horse." "John Davenport, a member of their church, and captain of their castle near Boston, being laid upon his bed in the heat of the day, the hand of the Lord in a strange manner, with a clap of thunder and a flash of lightning, in a moment smote him to death, it is testified he never spoke more." And John Norton, "one of their Chief Priests, a principal Exciter of the Magistrates to persecute the innocent and put them to Death, was cut off by a 162 LONGFELLOW'S COUNTRY sudden and unexpected Stroke, for having been at his worship in the fore part of the Day, and intend- ing to go thither again in the afternoon, as he was walking in his own House, he was observed to fetch a great groan, and leaning his Head against the Chimney-piece, was heard to say. The Hand, or Judg- ment of the Lord is upon me, and so sunk down and spake no more, and had fallen into the Fire, had not an ancient man then present prevented it." Bellingham, also, "having completed the Measure of his Iniquity, ended his Government with his Life, being bereft of his understanding and dying dis- tracted." Those who care to do so may read of the unheard- of calamities subsequently falling upon New Eng- land in Cotton Mather's History. It is not improbable that when the craze for cruelty and brutality began to wear itself out, there was an awakening of the conscience, and an overwhelming, sickening sense of the barbarousness which had sig- nalized this religious persecution. Irritating the Quakers were, no doubt. Banishment was a perfect- ly ineffective weapon against them, because they per- sisted, in fact, took a particular delight in disobeying the sentence of banishment. Under these circum- stances the Governor justified himself upon the ground that they themselves rushed upon their death. We can easily imagine that if the Salvation Army should march up the aisle of an Episcopal church to- day with drums and cymbals beating, and banners flying, and insist that the minister in the pulpit had a darkened understanding and that the leaders alone knew the truth — we can imagine the congregation's NEW ENGLAND TRAGEDIES 163 demanding that such a disturbance of its peace should be immediately stopped. In that long ago time, to irritation was added the fear that the rock of truth upon which the church stood might be swept away. The lesson had not yet been learned that a new view of truth is but another view, and that the same truth may be ap- proached from different sides by different natures. Yet this very outbreak of fanaticism was to help a long way toward the learning of the lesson. If we could have known the soul of Governor Endicott, we should know that it was awakening to larger light, and this is indeed the lesson which the poet means to emphasize in the closing words of the Governor: "Speak no more. For as I listen to your voice it seems As if the. Seven Thunders uttered their voices. And the dead bodies lay about the streets Of the disconsolate city. Bellingham, I did not put those wretched men to death. I did but guard the passage with the sword Pointed towards them, and they rushed upon itl Yet now I would that I had taken no part In all that bloody work." So he was saved. If the Quaker persecution was difficult to compre- hend, the witch delusion was still more extraordinary. How did it happen that men of brains and culture, doctors, clergymen, even a man like Cotton Mather, should have let themselves be duped by a parcel of children, when a simple-minded woman like Martha Corey should have seen so clearly the imposture of it all, and though brought up against learning and 164 LONGFELLOW'S COUNTRY piety and accusation stoutly maintained until the last her disbelief in witches ? Why should her psychology have been so much in advance of that of the rest of the community? After the wiseacres of the town had tortured and hung and imprisoned innocent human beings in their attempts to exorcise the Devil, they suddenly woke up, and came to the point of view of Martha. Goodwife Corey should certainly be re- garded as marking an important step in the evolu- tion of consciousness. Longfellow's play is modeled closely upon the facts in the Salem tragedy of 1692. There is Giles, the testy, ill-tempered man, but with a good heart, who has but lately become a Christian, and is trying hard to repent from the errors of his way. He, like most of his associates, is full of a belief in witch- craft. There is Martha, his wife, a sweet, affection- ate woman, of sound brain and heart, who refuses to believe in witchcraft, and never hesitates to say that priest and magistrate were alike deluded. There is Gloyd, the disgruntled servant of Corey; Hathorne, the blindly superstitious magistrate, and Cotton Mather, who was a firm believer in the "Wonders of the Invisible World," as his book proves, but who also believed that accusations and condemnations should not be made in too great haste. Finally there is Mary Walcot and Tituba, the slave woman, with whom the savage but fortunately brief craze origi- nated. Jonathan Walcot and Gardner, the friend, are imaginary "walking gentlemen," the latter being merely a foil to bring out more emphatically the true nobleness of Giles Corey's nature. When it comes to the supreme test, Gardner tries to persuade him NEW ENGLAND TRAGEDIES 165 to perjure himself by confessing he has had dealings with the Devil, but this sturdy old fellow of eighty refuses to accept any loophole of escape, though he is to sufPer the horrible torture of being pressed to death. We explain this delusion to-day by saying that it is based upon the complex phenomena of trance, insanity and hypnotism, but no one can read the facts in the case without realizing that love of power, of display, and enmity had a large share in the development of the delusion. The "afflicted children" declared they were bewitched through the agency of others in league with the Devil, but as a matter of fact it was their own evil natures which were in league with the powers of evil. The trouble started in Salem Village, the county seat of Salem Town. It was five miles off and is now Danvers Centre, so the curious visitor who would like to see the house where witchcraft started must take a trip thither. It was at the home of the Rev. Samuel Parris, who had become, in 1688, the pastor of the New Church, in 1671 separated from the First Church. It is said that his lust for power was one of the underlying sources of the witch persecution. At any rate, he was not only one of the most implacable of the per- secutors, but it was because of practices allowed in his own home that the delusion reached such terrifying proportions. The facts in the case are briefly as follows:* Mr. Parris had in his household at Salem several 166 LONGFELLOW'S COUNTRY slaves. Two of them were John Indian and his wife, Tituba, natives of South America, who were saturated with the superstitions of their race, and with whom the young girls in the neighborhood had mysterious interviews. During the winter of 1691-92, a circle of girls was formed, who used to come regularly to the parsonage for the purpose of practising the arts of palmistry and magic. In addition to Tituba, the names of eleven girls are given who were members of the circle. Elizabeth Parris was the daughter of the minister. Although only nine years old she took a leading part in the early stages of the affair. Abigail Williams, her cousin, eleven years of age, lived in Mr. Parris's family, and from first to last was one of the most audacious in her accusations. Aime Putnam, twelve years of age, the daughter of the Parish Clerk, must have been a child of astonishing precocity, her prom- inence throughout having made her very memory odious. Mary Walcott was the daughter of the nearest neighbor. Mercy Lewis, seventeen years of age, was a servant girl. These were the most promi- nent, but the whole circle, including some older women, seemed to move with entire unanimity in acts of reckless presumption and appalling malignity. In the course of the winter this circle became adepts in the art of "unaccountable behaviors," such as creeping slyly into holes, dropping unconscious on the floor, making antic and unnatural gestures, writhing in dreadful contortions and uttering piercing outcries. The community was aroused. What could be the matter with them? Dr. Gregg, the village physician, was called in. What could a man who knew nothing NEW ENGLAND TRAGEDIES 167 about psychology, with generations of superstition be- hind him, do, but just what he did? — declare them under an evil hand ; they were bewitched. The whole country became alarmed at this professional decision. Multitudes thronged in to witness the tremendous convulsions of the "afflicted children," who natural- ly played up more and more to the part which was expected of them. An account is given by Mr. Law- son of his experience one Sunday when he preached in the meeting-house : "There were sundry of the afflicted persons at meet- ing. They had several sore fits in the time of public worship, which did something interrupt me in my first prayer, being so unusual. After psalms was sung, Abigail Williams said to me, 'Now, stand up and name your text!' And, after it was read, Tt is a long text!' In the beginning of sermon, Mrs. Pope, a woman afflicted, said to me, 'I know no doctrine you had; if you did name one I forgot it.' In sermon time, when Goodwife C. [orey] was present, Abigail Williams called out, 'Look where Goodwife C. sits in her beam — ^her yellow bird betwixt her fingers!' Anne Putnam, another girl afflicted, said, 'There was a yellow bird sat on my hat as it hung .on the .pin in the pulpit!' But those that were by restrained her from speaking loud about it." Mr. Parris was so much troubled that he summoned all the neighboring ministers to his own house. Then they spent a day in fasting and prayer, in view of these strange dispensations. The children went through their various performances for the benefit of the ministers, who were duly amazed. They solemn- ly reaffirmed the opinion of Dr. Gregg. They de- 168 LONGFELLOW'S COUNTRY clared it to be their full belief that the Evil One had confederates in that community, bewitching these poor girls. Wild excitement ensued upon this decision. Since the Devil could operate upon human affairs only through the instrumentality of human beings in league with himself, the turning question became "Who are those among us in league with him af- flicting these girls?" Finally the girls began indi- cating who the people were. All that were accused were arrested and thrown into prison, and if they would not confess themselves to be in league with the Devil, they were sentenced to be hung. "Gallows Hill," says a recent writer, "still haunts the western borders of Salem, a grim spectre of the dreadful Past. Around its base have clustered the factories and homes of a thriving population, and their 'buildings begin to ascend its rocky sides. But the bald and ancient top continues to affront the open sky. Our eye cannot run up that rocky height without recalling to our 'heart the most appalling event of Colonial history. There, looming against the summer clouds of 1692, nineteen innocent persons were hanged by the neck until they were dead." Such was the prologue to the accusation of Giles Corey and his wife. When Martha Corey was first arraigned for witch- craft, Giles was a firm believer in it. She, however, was one of the two or three persons who had both sense and boldness to declare that she did not beUeve there were any witches. A committee from the church called upon her with suspicions aroused be- cause of the outcries of the "afflicted children," She M H H Z H bC O fl =1 (£ -C C3 > ^ ^ P O ^ H & o K •■g ^ [x; CO (U a ,a & 4-> o ^5 o o o B o H <^H n o H « o s 1^ o K ffl NEW ENGLAND TRAGEDIES 169 received them cordially and told them she knew they had come to talk to her about being a witch, but that she was not one. But her shape continued to haunt the girls. She was brought before the magistrate and in spite of all her virtues she was promptly com- mitted. While undergoing her final trial, with serene and firm composure she reasserted her disbelief in the delusion. All the wiles of the crafty girls could not conf oimd her, and she listened to her sentence with Ler heart undismayed by the terrors it denounced. She was, therefore, excommimicated, and at length carried to the scaffold, where, as Calef relates, "Mar- tha Corey, protesting her innocence, concluded her life with an eminent prayer upon the ladder." The last we hear of her in Longfellow's play is in her cell, singing, where her husband hears her from his cell. The poet has worked up in a dream of Martha's a paper written by Giles Corey himself. In the dream her husband was to testify against her, and later in her trial the dream comes true in so far that her husband's testimony was damaging to her without his intending it. It was evidently thought that this paper might be used against Martha. But it was realized that there was nothing damaging to Martha in it, for though it shows that Giles believed himself and everything about him bewitched, he was not will- ing to say that his own wife was the witch. Here is the paper: "The evidence of Giles Corey testifieth and saith that last Saturday evening, sitting by the fire, my wife asked me to go to bed. I told her I would go to prayer, and when I went to prayer I could not utter my desires with any sense, nor open my mouth to 170 LONGFELLOW'S COUNTRY speak. My wife did perceive it and came toward me, and said she was coming to me. After this, in a little space, I did according to my measure attend the duty. Some time last week I fetched an ox, well, out of the woods, about noon, and .he laying down in the yard I went to raise him, to yoke him, but he could not rise, but dragged his hinder parts as if he had been hip-shot. But after did rise. Another time, going to my duties, I was interrupted for a space, but after- wards I was helped according to my poor measure. My wife hath been wont to set up after I went to bed; and I have perceived her to kneel doAvn on the hearth, as if she was at prayer, but heard nothing." The accusations of witchcraft against GUes Corey were intensified by local enmities against him. The story runs that in the winter of 1676 a hired man named Goodell fell sick at his house. He was at length carried home to his friends by Goodwife Corey. Soon after he died. It was whispered about that he had come to his death in consequence of an awful flogging, given him in a passion by Corey. Corey was brought to trial for murder. He was ac- quitted. John Gloyd, another laborer on his farm, was a man of sullen temper. They had fallen out with each other a number of times, but, in 1678, a quarrel between them about wages had grown so fierce that they resorted to law. The case was, how- ever, taken out of court, and put into the hands of referees mutually chosen. It was decided against Corey by the voice of John Proctor, who was the friend of Gloyd. Corey expressed himself satisfied. A short time after this, one morning before daylight, Proctor's house topk fire and was burned to the NEW ENGLAND TRAGEDIES 171 ground. Corey was accused of setting it on fire, he was indicted for trial, but incontestable evidence proved an alibi and he was triumphantly acquitted. In order to put an end to the calumnies flying about in regard to him, Corey now instituted proceedings against a number of witnesses for defamation of character, and recovered damages against all of them. When his trial for witchcraft came on, his past record was made the most of, as Longfellow shows. Giles was examined in the meeting-house. "Giles Corey," said Hathorne, the magistrate, "you are brought before authority upon high suspicion of sun- dry acts of witchcraft. Now tell us the truth in the matter." "I hope through the goodness of God I shall, for that matter I never had no hand in, in my life." The "afflicted children," however, proved him a witch on the spot by .affirming that he had troubled them and by going off into spasms and awful convulsions. According to the records, "Giles Corey was, by an old English law, put to a most cruel death. When arraigned before the Court he refused to plead or to answer questions, for he knew what his fate would be in either case. The .usage in England was to give the recusant three separate opportunities to plead, each time announcing the dread penalty of continued contumacy. After the third trial if he still remained speechless he was remanded to prison, with the sen- tence of peine forte et dure. He would then be thrown upon his back, and weights of stone or iron would be piled upon him. There he would be kept sometimes for days, the weights gradually increasing until the sufferer had consented to plead, or had been 172 LONGFELLOW'S COUNTRY pressed to death." It is said that Giles Corey told them it was no use for them to expect him to plead, and that they might as well pile on the rocks at once, "and so they did, and so he died." •Soon after this, the awakening came. The girls became too audacious and accused a lady known in all the region around for her graces — the wife of Rev. Mr. Hale of Beverly. He had, himself, been a per- secutor of witches, but to have his wife come under the ban was more than even his credulity could ac- cept. "He turned, at once, his powerful influence against the current. The accusers had perjured themselves. This conviction spread suddenly through the community. The people had been duped. It was all a mistake. The wild storm quelled. In a moment that mortal delirium was checked. The whole delusion vanished." Salem was so horror-stricken upon coming into its right mind that there are few traditions and few relics to lend their embellishment to the tale. The grim records were in the old meeting-house where the unco' pious Mr. Parris held forth, and where had been the scene of so many insane witch trials. The visitor to Salem will probably continue to gaze with curiosity upon the witch pins preserved in the Court House. Just common .pins ! but diabolical enough was their use, for the witches of Salem, like witches from time immemorial, were in the habit of making puppets like the persons they wished to in- jure. Jabbing pins into the puppets was a sure way of afflicting the bewitched person. The only witchcraft exercised by Salem now is upon the pocketbook of the summer person, who has NEW ENGLAND TRAGEDIES 173 a fad for souvenir spoons, and a taste for the delect- able confection made there, and known as the Salem Gibraltar — a delicious compound of softness and pep- permint. Coins large and small fly from their hiding places when coming into proximity with these luxuries. THE LORE OF HIAWATHA "Long ere the shores of green America Were touched by men of Norse and Saxon blood. What time the Continent in silence lay, A solemn realm of forest and of flood. Where Nature wantoned mid in zones imim,ense. Unconscious of her own magnificence; "Then to the savage race, who 'kn£W no world Beyond the hunter's lodge, the council-fire. The clouds of grosser sense were sometimes furled. And spirits came to answer their desire, — The spirits of the race, grotesque and shy; Exaggerated powers of earth and sky. "For Gods resemble whom they govern: they. The fathers of the soil, may not outgrow The children's vision. In that earlier day. They stooped the race familiarly to know; From Heaven's blue prairies they descended, then. And tooh the shapes and shared the lives of men." Bayard Tayloe. IN turning to Indian stories for subject-matter for his poetry, Longfellow has done our literature a lasting service by adopting into it an entire- ly new range of folk-lore. It is often remarked that we can never have a distinctively American literature because we have no folk-lore of our own. Where is the culture-race that does possess a folk-lore exclu- sively its own? The French writers have either harked back to the classics or adopted the legends of Normandy or Brittany; the English writers have either harked back to the classics or adopted Celtic and Welsh legends into their literature. Push back the history of any people far enough and it will be found adopting into its literature, whether oral or written, the tales of aboriginal or previous inhabitants. The Indian lore is the lore of the soil, and when used as subject-matter by an American writer is just as much American literature as his descriptions of the wonderful scenery of the country, and it must per- force bring a new note into literature, and in that sense be American — since it exists nowhere else in the literature of culture. It was some time before the highly civilized con- querors of the Indians discovered that these "untu- tored" savages possessed any imagination whatever, and still longer before they began taking down from 177 178 LONGFELLOW'S COUNTRY the lips of Indians the stories and myths which circu- lated among them at their wigwam firesides. Paul Le Jeune, who was one of the first Jesuit mis- sionaries to the Indian tribes, who yet remained near the island of Hochelaga, in the St. Lawrence, in 1637, over a hundred years after Cartier's first visit to them in 1535, was "surprised" to observe that the natives were in the habit of entertaining themselves by fanci- ful tales, which, in a people who made war and himt- ing their boast, constituted a curious branch of mental phenomena. At another time he wrote: "I think the savages, in point of intellect, may be placed in a high rank. Education and instruction alone are wanting. The powers of the mind operate with fa- cility and effect. The Indians I can well compare to some of our own villagers who are left without in- struction. Yet I have scarcely seen any person who has come from France to this country, who does not acknowledge that the savages have more intellect or capacity than most of our own peasantry." Other testimony of a like character came from French missionaries, one of the most appreciative of them being Charlevoix, who wrote: "The beauty of their imagination equals its vivacity, which appears in all their discourse: they are very quick at repartee, and their harangues are full of shining passages, which would have been applauded at Rome or Athens. Their eloquence has a strength, nature and pathos, which no art can give, and which the Greeks admired in the barbarians." These tribes were supposed to be the descendants of those who were at the head of the celebrated Iroquois Confederacy. This league of the Five Nations was fashioned much like the Greek THE LORE OF HIAWATHA 179 Amphictyonic League. The union was a real and practical one, yet each of the five allied tribes was left with its individual rights, (it is a matter of moment to us that the Indians were so conscious of the su- periority of their form of government that they actu- ally urged upon the colonies in 1774, just trembling on the verge of becoming a Republic, the advantages of their system.^ To the myths current among this Iroquois nation Longfellow went for most of his material, which, as he himself explains, he foimd recorded in the various and voluminous works of Schoolcraft, who, having married an Indian wife, was in an excellent position to collect them from the oral traditions of the Indians among whom he lived for many years. Since his day collectors of Indian folk-lore have multiplied until, at the present time, every scrap of wisdom and fancy to be gleaned from this rapidly disappearing and reti- cent race is seized upon with the greatest eagerness. It is impossible often to persuade them to allow their oral tales to be written down. They have learned greatly to fear the intentions of the white man, but modern science, the conqueror of all things, overcomes the difficulty by prevailing upon the unsuspecting In- dian to talk in front of a phonograph, from which he is separated by a light screen. Amid this mass of material now being accumulated, there will doubtless be found much to the taste of future poets. Longfellow worked at the raw stuff of Indian legend as he did at everything else, in a simple roman- tic spirit, modeling it always with a view to making an interesting story. Sometimes weaving together separate tales, at another lopping off redundant ele- 180 LONGFELLOW'S COUNTRY merits, and again, expanding and embellishing with his own imaginative exfoliations, he has succeeded in "Hiawatha" in producing a marvellously unified series of pictures in the life of this Indian hero, who, among his own creators, was endowed with so hetero- geneous a collection of virtues and faults that he might easily stand as the prototype of Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde. The poet has done this, too, without abating one jot of the fascination that usually clings about the exploits of a recklessly mischievous person in romance. There were two accounts of the great Indian hero, half-god, half -human, to draw upon. Among the Algonquins he was known as Manabozho, and was evidently more of a cosmic myth than anything else, with survivals of earlier animistic conceptions; for besides engaging in battles with his foes, especially Pau-Puk-Keewis, that suggest the wind and the storm, he was, as a God, known under the name of the Great White Hare. As a man he understood the language of birds and animals, which he called his brothers. He had also the power of transforming himself into the shape of any animal he pleased. The general conception of him was that of a messenger of the Great Spirit, sent down to mankind, in the character of a wise man or prophet, with the power of performing miraculous deeds. On the other hand, he has all the attributes of humanity, and adapts himself perfectly to their manners and customs and ideas. He was the conqueror of the evil genii of the In- dians, the Manitoes, yet he was so ambitious, vain- glorious and deceitful as often to be an evil genius himself. When he could gain his ends by cimning he THE LORE OF HIAWATHA 181 never hesitated to do so. For example, he treated his brothers, the birds and animals, once in a manner scarcely befitting the messenger of the Great Spirit. He had invited them all to a feast. A curious enough feast! namely, a lake of oil which he had formed from a large fish he had captured. As his guests arrived he told them all to plunge in and help themselves, and for aU time to come the measure of their fatness was decided by the order in which they partook of the ban- quet. Then the cunning Manabozho suggested it wotild be nice to have a little fun, and taking up his drimi, he cried out : "New songs from the South; come, brothers, dance!" He directed them to make the sport more mirthfvd, that they should shut their eyes and pass roimd him in a circle. Again he beat his drimi and cried out: "New songs from the South; come, brothers, dance!" They aU fell in and commenced their rounds. Whenever Manabozho, as he stood in the circle, saw a fat fowl which he fancied, pass by him, he adroitly wrung its neck and slipped it in his girdle, at the same time beating his drum and singing at the top of his Ixmgs, to drown the noise of the fluttering, and crying out in a tone of admiration: "That's the way, my brothers; that's the way." At last a small duck, of the diver family, thinking there was something wrong, opened one eye and saw what Manabozho was doing. Giving a spring, and crying: "Ha-ha-ha! Manabozho is killing us!" he made for the water. Manabozho, quite vexed that the creature should 182 LONGFELLOW'S COUNTRY have played the spy upon his housekeeping, followed him, and just as the diver duck was plunging. into the water, gave him a kick, which is the reason that the diver's tail-feathers are few, his back flattened, and his legs straightened out so that when he comes on land he makes a poor figure in walking. Meantime, the other birds, having no ambition to be thrust into Manabozho's girdle, flew off and the animals scampered into the woods. The Iroquois account is a short and extreme- ly dignified one, in which this Indian hero ap- pears first as Tarenyawago, and then as Hiawatha, who formed the confederacy of the Five Nations, or as sometimes said, Six Nations. It was taken down from the lips of an Onondaga Chief, Abraham Le Fort, about the beginning of the nineteenth century, and as he had been educated at an academy, the sup- pression of merely grotesque elements might have been due to his personal maniptdation of the ancient tradi- tion. At any rate, Longfellow made this more dig- nified account the basis of Hiawatha's character, add- ing to it whatever pleased his fancy from the exploits of the Algonquin hero, or from those told of other In- dian heroes. The account, as given in Schoolcraft's "Aboriginal Researches" is as follows : "Tarenyawago taught the six nations arts and knowledge. He had a canoe which would move with- out paddles. It was only necessary to will it to com- pel it to go; with this he ascended the streams and lakes. He taught the people to raise corn and beans, removed obstructions from their water-courses, and made their fishing grounds clear. He helped them to get mastery over the great monsters that overran THE LORE OF HIAWATHA 183 the country. His wisdom was as great as his power. He gave wise instructions for observing the laws and maxims of the Great Spirit. Having done these things, he laid aside the high powers of his public mission and resolved to set an example of how people should live. He selected a beautiful spot on the shores of the lesser Southern lakes, erected a lodge, planted his field of corn, kept by him his magic canoe, and selected a wife. In relinquishing his former posi- tion as a subordinate power to the Great Spirit, he also dropped his name and according to his present situation took that of Hiawatha, meaning a person of very great wisdom. "He now lived in a degree of respect scarcely in- ferior to that which he before possessed. His words and counsels were implicitly obeyed. The people flocked to him from all quarters for advice and in- struction. Such persons as had been prominent in following his precepts, he favored, and they became eminent on the war-path and in the council-room. "When Hiawatha assumed the duties of an in- dividual, at Tioto, he carefuUy drew out from the water his beautiful talismanic canoe, which had served for horses and chariot, in his initial excursions through the Iroquois territories, and it was carefully secured on land, and never used except in his journeys to at- tend the general councils. He had elected to become a member of the Onondaga tribe, and chose the resi- dence of this people, in the shady recesses of their fruitful valley, as the central point of their govern- ment. "After the termination of his higher mission from above, years passed away in prosperity, and the Onon- 184 LONGFELLOW'S COUNTRY dagas assumed an elevated rank, for their wisdom and learning, among the other tribes, and there was not one of these which did not yield its assent to their high privilege of lighting the general council fire. "Suddenly there arose a great alarm at the invasion of a ferocious band of warriors from the mouth of the Great Lakes. As they advanced, an indiscriminate slaughter was made of men, women and children. Destruction threatened to be alike the fate of those who boldly resisted, or quietly submitted. The public alarm was extreme. Hiawatha advised them not to waste their efforts in a desultory manner, but to call a general council of all the tribes that could be gath- ered together from the east to the west; and he ap- pointed the meeting to take place on an eminence on the banks of Onondaga lake. "Accordingly, all the chief men assembled at this spot. The occasion brought together vast multitudes of men, women and children ; for there was an expec- tation of some great deliverance. Three days had already elapsed, and there began to be a general anx- iety lest Hiawatha should not arrive. Messengers were despatched for him to Tioto, who found him in a pensive mood, to whom he communicated his strong presentiments that evil betided his attendance. These were overruled by the strong representations of the messengers, and he again put his wonderful vessel in its element, and set out for the council, taking his only daughter with him. She timidly took her seat in the stern, with a light paddle, to give direction to the ves- sel ; for the strength of the current of the Seneca river was sufficient to give velocity to the motion till arriv- ing at So-hah-hi, the Onondaga outlet. At this point THE LORE OF HIAWATHA 185 the powerful exertions of the aged chief were re- quired, till they entered on the bright bosom of the Onondaga. "The grand council, that was to avert the threat- ened danger, was quickly in sight, and sent up its shouts of welcome as the venerated man approached and landed in front of the assemblage. An ascent led up the banks of the lake to the place occupied by the council. As he walked up this, a loud sound was heard in the air above, as if caused by some rushing current of wind. Instantly the eyes of all were di- rected upward to the sky, when a spot of matter was discovered descending rapidly, and every instant en- larging in its size and velocity. Terror and alarm were the first impulses, for it appeared to be descend- ing into their midst, and they scattered in confusion. "Hiawatha, as soon as he had gained the eminence, stood still, and caused his daughter to do the same, deeming it cowardly to fly, and impossible, if it were attempted, to divert the designs of the Great Spirit. The descending object had now assumed a more def- inite aspect, and as it came down, revealed the shape of a gigantic white bird, with wide extended and pointed wings, which came down, swifter and swifter, with a mighty swoop, and crushed the girl to the earth. Not a muscle was moved in the face of Hiawatha. His daughter lay dead before him, but the great and mysterious white bird was also destroyed by the shock. Such had been the violence of the con- cussion that it had completely buried its beak and head in the ground. But the most wonderful sight was the carcase of the prostrated bird, which was covered with beautiful plumes of snow-white, shining feathers. 186 LONGFELLOW'S COUNTRY Each warrior stepped up and decorated himself with a plume. And it hence became a custom to assume this kind of feathers on the warpath. Succeeding generations substituted the plumes of the white heron, which led this bird to be greatly esteemed. "But yet a greater wonder ensued. On removing the carcase of the bird, not a human trace could be discovered of the daughter. She had completely van- ished. At this the father was greatly afflicted in spirits, and disconsolate. But he roused himself, as from a lethargy, and walked to the head of the coim- cil with a dignified air, covered with his simple robe of wolf -skins, taking his seat with the chief warriors and counselors, and listening with attentive gravity to the plans of the different speakers. One day was given to these discussions; on the next day he arose and said: " 'My friends and brothers ; you are members of many tribes, and have come from a great distance. We have met to promote the common interest, and our mutual safety. How shall it be accomplished? To oppose these northern hordes in tribes singly, while we are at variance often with each other, is impossible. By uniting in a common band of brotherhood, we may hope to succeed. Let this be done, and we shall drive the enemy from our land. Listen to me by tribes. " 'You (the Mohawks), who«are sitting xinder the shadow of the Great Tree, whose roots sink deep in the earth, and whose branches spread wide aroimd, shall be the first nation, because you are warlike and mighty. "'You (the Oneidas), who recline your bodies against the Everlasting Stone, that cannot be moved, THE LORE OF HIAWATHA 18T shall be the second nation, because you always give wise counsel. " 'You (the Onondagas) , who have your habitation at the foot of the Great Hills, and are overshadowed by their crags, shall be the third nation, because you are all greatly gifted in speech. "'You (the Senecas), whose dwelling is in the Dark Forest, and whose home is everywhere, shall be the fourth nation, because of your superior cunning in hunting. " 'And you (the Cayugas), the people who live in the open country and possess much wisdom, shall be the fifth nation, because you understand better the art of raising corn and beans, and making houses. " 'Unite, you five nations, and have one common in- terest, and no foe shall disturb and subdue you. You, the people who are as the feeble bushes, and you, who are a fishing people, may place yourself under our protection, and we will defend you. And you of the south and of the west may do the same, and we will protect you. We earnestly desire the alliance and the friendship of you all. " 'Brothers, if we unite in this great bond, the Great Spirit will smile upon us, and we shall be free, pros- perous and happy. But if we remain as we are we shall be subject to his frown. We shall be enslaved, ruined, perhaps annihilated. We may perish under the war-storm, and our names be no longer remem- bered by good men, nor be repeated in the dance and song. " 'Brothers, these are the words of Hiawatha. I have said it. I am done.' 188 LONGFELLOW'S COUNTRY "The next day the plan of union was again con- sidered and adopted by the council. Conceiving this to be the accomplishment of his mission to the Iro- quois, the tutelar patron of this rising confederacy ad- dressed them in a speech elaborate with wise coimsels, and then announced his withdrawal to the skies." The scene of the poem is laid on Lake Superior, be- tween the Pictured Rocks and the Grand Sable of the land of the O jib ways, a tribe belonging to the Algon- quins. The stage setting is an impressive one. Di- rectly out of this great fresh, inland sea, rise the pre- cipitous cliffs of the Pictured Rocks, often two hun- dred feet in height, and extending for five miles. By the constant surge of the breakers at their base, these cliffs have been worn into an astonishing variety of shapes, and are strangely brilliant with bands of many-hued color. Contrasting with this is the sandy stretch of the Grand Sable — a long reach of coast re- sembling a vast sandbank more than three himdred and fifty feet in height, without a trace of vegetation. The poet follows closely the Oji bway story of Manabozho's birth and childhood, which relates that his grandmother was a daughter of the moon. Hav- ing been married but a short time, her rival attracted her to a grape-vine swing on the banks of a lake, and by one bold exertion pitched her into the center, from which she fell through to the earth. Her daughter, the fruit of her human marriage, she was very careful to instruct, from her early infancy, to beware of the West Wind. But one day, neglecting precautions, she was encircled by the West Wind, who scattered her robes upon his wings and annihilated her. In her THE LORE OF HIAWATHA 189 place was found a small infant, that soon developed, under the careful and tender nursing of his grand- mother, Nokomis, the striking lineaments of the in- fant Manahozho. The myth gives a scant account of his boyhood — wherein he is represented as living with his grand- mother on the edge of a wide prairie, seeing there birds and animals of every kind, learning every sound they uttered until he could converse with them so well that he called them his brothers, watching also the changes of day and night, musing upon the clouds as they rolled by, and watching the play of thunder and lightning. The poet has vitalized the story by weaving in many strange Indian myths and sayings : Such as the idea that the Milky Way is the pathway of ghosts ; that the rainbow is the heaven of flowers; that the flecks and shadows on the moon are a warrior's grandmother; that the Northern Lights are the death-dance of the spirits. The fear of the naked bear was proverbial. Heckewelder tells how the Indians declared that "among all animals which had formerly been in this country, this was the most ferocious ; that it was much larger than the largest of the common bears, and re- markably long-bodied; all over (except a spot of hair on its back of a white color) naked. The history of this animal used to be a subject of conversation among them, especially when in the woods or hunting. I have also heard them say to their children when cry- ing: 'Hush! the naked bear will hear you, be upon you, and devour you.' " Even the little fire-fly song is a real Indian chant, sung by the O jib way children on hot summer evenings, when they assemble to amuse I9a LONGFELLOW'S COUNTRY themselves before their parents' lodges. In the literal translation it is a charming example of Indian fancy: "Flitting white-fire insect, Waving white-fire bug, Give me light before I go to bed. Give me light before I go to sleep. Come, little dancing white-fire bug, Come, little flitting white-fire beast. Light me with your bright white flame-instrument, — your little candle." Hiawatha's fear of the owl is told in the story of Manabozho, but the incident of lagoo making his first bow and the subsequent shooting of the deer, is added to the story. By means of these additional touches of legend and the poetical expansion of the few facts of his child- hood given in the original story, the poet has created a lovely picture of mysterious childhood. This charm- ing accoimt is led up to by the Prologue addressed to the reader, and two introductory cantos. Imaginative sources of the song of Hiawatha are given in the songs of an Indian bard, who derived them from "The birds' nests of the forest, In the lodges of the beaver. In the hoof-prints of the bison, In the eyrie of the eagle ! All the wild-fowl sang them to him. In the moorlands and the fen-lands. In the melancholy marshes." At the end, in the symbolizing of the song as an in- scription on a grave-stone, is suggested the annihila- THE LORE OF HIAWATHA 191 tion of the Indian life of the country, again brought out at the close of the poem in the description of the coming of the white man. "The Peace Pipe" relates a legend well jfitted to give the pervading atmosphere of the poem. It is based upon an interesting version of the Red Pipe tradition given in Catlin's "Letters and Notes on Manners, Customs and Condition of the North Amer- ican Indians." The Great Spirit at an ancient period here [at the Red Pipe Stone Quarry] called the Indian nations together, and, standing on the precipice of the red pipe-stone rock, broke from its wall a piece, and made a huge pipe by turning it in his hand, which he smoked over them, and to the north, the south, the east, and the west, and told them that this stone was red — that it was their flesh — that they must use it for their pipes of peace — that it belonged to them all, and that the war-club and scalping-knif e must not be raised on its ground. At the last whiff of his pipe his head went into a great cloud, and the whole surface of the rock for several miles was melted and glazed; two great ovens were opened beneath, and two women (guardian spirits of the place) entered them in a blaze of fire; and they are heard there yet (Tso-mec-cos-tee and Tso-me-cos-te-won-dee) answering to the invocations of the high-priests or medicine-men, who consult them when they are visitors to this sacred place. "The Four Winds" is linked with the rest of the poem more closely because it introduces the father of the hero, Mudjekeewis, or the West Wind. An im- portant traditional exploit of his, for which Longfel- low found the material in an incident told in the course 192 LONGFELLOW'S COUNTRY of the grisly tale of "lamo or The Undying Head," one of the stories in Schoolcraft's "Algic Researches," is joined with two other traditions of his brothers, the North and the South Wind, the first of which may be found in Schoolcraft's "Aboriginal Archives," the second in the "Algic Researches." Both of these legends are faithfully followed, owing nothing but their pleasing versification to the poet. The story of Mudjekeewis is, however, much con- densed and gains thereby greatly in strength. In the original he is only one of ten brothers who go forth to steal the wampum from the bear's neck, and it certainly does not appear that he was the brother to successfvdly slip the necklace of wampum over the sleeping bear's head. On the contrary, it was the youngest, while Mudjekeewis is spoken of as the third from the oldest ; nor does he immediately demolish the bear with his powerful club. Although he boasts that he is going to do great things, many adventures are gone through, during which various magical be- ings called up, not by Mudjekeewis, but by the eldest brother and leader, have their whacks at the bear. This monster whose growl is like thunder and who shakes the earth with his footsteps, is stunned by these beings long enough always to allow the brothers to escape from his imminent hugs, but he revives and goes striding over the landscape in pursuit of the thieves with ever renewed vigor. Finally the ten brothers embark in a canoe, the bear comes down to the edge of the lake as they paddle away, but beiag a clever animal, he starts to walk round the lake to head them off on the opposite side — so there is nothing for the brothers to do but stay in the middle of the THE LORE OF HIAWATHA 193 lake. The bear, however, is equal to the emergency; he begins to drink up the lake, which causes such a rapid current toward his mouth that the canoe is carried irresistibly toward it. Now is the chance of Mudjekeewis. He strikes a blow with his club on the bear's forehead and stuns him; the result is that he disgorges all the water he has been drinking, and sends the canoe flying to the opposite shore, and once more the brothers escape. Finally, with the help of the magic head, the bear is stupefied, Mudjekeewis beats his brains out with the club, while the brothers cut up his body in little pieces, which all run off as ordinary- sized bears, and so the race of bears originated. These three cantos strike a sort of major chord giv- ing the key of the whole poem — the song of a hero, typical of a complete phase of life that is past; a state of peace, typical of the human ideal the whole race of Indians had attained through a mystical reve- lation; a fanciful mythology, typical of the cosmic processes of nature. To this harmony of atmosphere and environment the melody of Hiawatha's life is set. The story of Hiawatha's combat with his father is taken from the account in "Algic Researches." It represents Manabozho sitting dejected and silent, thinking how singular it was that he had never heard a word about his father or mother, and finally asking his grandmother about them. "Knowing that he was of a wicked and revengeful disposition, she dreaded telling him the story of his parentage, but he insisted on her compliance . . . and seemed to be rejoiced to hear that his father was living, for he had already thought in his heart to try and kill him. He told his grandmother he should set 194 LONGFELLOW'S COUNTRY out in the morning. . . . She said it was a long way . . . but that had no effect to stop him, for he had now attained to manhood . . . and had a giant's strength and power . . . and every step he took covered a large surface. . . . The meeting took place on a high mountain in the West. His father was happy to see him and they spent days in talking. One evening he asked 'Is there not some- thing you dread here?' His father said, 'Yes, there is a black stone ... the only thiag earthly I am afraid of.' He said this as a secret, and in return asked his son the same question. . . . Manabozho affected great dread, 'le-ee, it is — ^it is — I cannot name it; I am seized with dread. . . . It is the root of the apukwa [bulrush], and he cried out 'Kago! Kago!' when his father said he would get it, really wishing to urge him to do so that he might draw him into combat. . . . He asked his father if he had been the cause of his mother's death. The an- swer was 'Yes !' He then took up the rock and struck him. Blow led to blow, and here commenced an ob- stinate and furious combat which continued several days. Fragments of the rock can be seen in various places to this time. Manabozho drove him across rivers, mountains and lakes and came at last to the brink of this world. 'Hold!' cried he, 'my son, you know my power, and that it is impossible to kill me. . . . You can do a great deal of good to the peo- ple of this earth, which is infested with large serpents, beasts, and giants. . . . When you have finished your work, I wiU have a place provided for you. You will then sit with your brother Kabibboonocca in the north." THE LORE OF HIAWATHA 195 The revengefulness and tricksyness characteristic of Manabozho in this story Longfellow has turned into a righteous indignation at his father's falseness, and a quiet reserve-force which carries sympathy to the young hero. How effective is the repetition of "And his heart was hot within him!" The hated Mudjekeewis, too, gains pathos and dignity by the touch that describes the toss and nod of his hoary head. In the poem, on his way back from the fight with Mudjekeewis, Hiawatha visits the old arrow-maker, and sees for the first time his daughter, Minnehaha. The incident of the visit to the arrow-maker occurs differently in the original legend, as we shall see when speaking of Hiawatha's wooing. Manabozho is represented as fasting before going to war with Pearl Feather; but Longfellow, instead of using this incident, describes Hiawatha's fast in Canto V as the customary one observed by young In- dians on reaching manhood, and incorporates in the account the O jib way story of the poor young man, who having arrived at the age proper for fasting, his mother built him a little fasting-lodge in a retired spot where he would not be disturbed. As told in "Abo- riginal Archives," the story is as follows : "He amused himself for a few mornings by ram- bling about in the vicinity looking at the shrubs and wild flowers, and brought great bunches of them along in his hands, which led him often to think on the good- ness of the Great Spirit in providing all kinds of fruits and herbs for the use of man. This idea quite took possession of his mind, and he earnestly prayed that he might dream of something to benefit his peo- ple, for he had often seen them suffering for food." 196 LONGFELLOW'S COUNTRY The remainder of the story is almost exactly par- aphrased by Longfellow, except that upon the fourth morning his father brought him food, and the son asked him to set it by for a particular reason until the sun went down, when he had his final trial with the visitor. He did not tell his father what had hap- pened, but took him to the spot where the lodge had stood when the corn was ripe and surprised him, "It is the friend of my dreams and visions," said the youth. "It is Mondamin, it is the spirit's grain," said the father. The description of Hiawatha's friends is partly imaginary and partly founded on legend. Chibiabos, according to one account which occurs in the story of "Hiawatha's Lamentation," was the brother of Hia- watha and greatly beloved by him. Longfellow sim- ply makes him a friend, and attributes to him the character of a poet. He also makes the fearfully strong man Kwasind a friend of Hiawatha's, and bases his character upon a legend told in the "Algic Researches." "Kwasind was a listless, idle boy. He would not play when other boys played, and his parents could never get him to do any kind of labor. He was al- ways making excuses. His parents noticed, however, that he fasted for days together, but they could not learn what spirit he supplicated. 'You neither hunt nor fish,' said his mother. 'I set my nets the cold- est days of winter without your assistance while you sit by the lodge fire. Go, wring out that net.' With an easy twist of his hands he wrung it short off with as much ease as if every twine had been a thin brittle fibre." THE LORE OF HIAWATHA 197 The incidents of the rock he hurled, the logs he lifted, the beaver he secured, all occur just as Long- fellow uses them; except that he describes it all with the poet's revivifying touch. In the account of Manabozho in the "Algic Re- searches" there are but two slight references to his canoe — one where he says to his grandmother, "Noko, get cedar bark and make me a line, whilst I make a canoe" ; and later, where it is said that he only had to will or speak and the canoe went. The Iroquois ac- count already given also speaks of the magic quality of his canoe. With only these hints to go upon, it will be seen that the story of the building of the canoe de- scribed in Canto VII is entirely the work of the poet's fancy, except in so far as he has been careful to de- scribe a real Indian canoe. Then upon the general statement in the Iroquois account that Hiawatha cleared the rivers, he builds up the taking incident of Hiawatha's sailing with his friend Kwasind down the river Taquamenaw, and clearing it of all dead trees and sand-bars. His fishing with the fishing-rod of cedar, for the sturgeon, is described at considerable length in the Algonquin legend of Manabozho, and Longfellow has here followed the incidents very closely, making additions only which add to the poetic effect. Fol- lowing the line of tasks his father had assigned him to rid the land of serpents, beasts, and giants, Hia- watha, having caught the king of fishes, next attempts to kill the giant. Pearl Feather, and the serpents that defended him. Longfellow found the material for this in the "Algic Researches" substantially as fol- lows: 198 LONGFELLOW'S COUNTRY "After this, he commenced making preparations for a war excursion against the Pearl Feather, the Manito who lived on the opposite side of the great lake, who had killed his grandfather. The ahode of this spirit was defended, first by fiery serpents, who hissed fire so that no one could pass them ; and in the second place by a mass of gummy matter lying on the water, so soft and adhesive that whoever attempt- ed to pass was sure to stick there. . . He trav- eled rapidly night and day, for he had only to wiU or speak and the canoe went. At length he arrived in sight of the fiery serpents. . . He commenced talking as a friend to them; but they answered, 'We know you, Manabozho, you cannot pass.' . . He then pushed his canoe as near as possible. All at once he cried out with a loud and terrified voice, 'What is that behind you?' The serpents instantly turned their heads, when at a single word, he passed them. 'Well,' said he placidly, after he had got by, 'how do you like my exploit?' He then took up his bow and arrows, and with deliberate aim shot them. . . Then he came to a soft gummy part of the lake called Pigiu-wagumee or Pitchwater. He took the oil and rubbed it on his canoe, and then pushed into it. . . He debarked in safety, and could see the lodge of the Shining Manito situated on a hill. He com- menced putting his arrows in order, and at dawn be- gan yelling and shouting with triple voices, 'Surround him! Run up!' making it appear he had many fol- lowers. Crying, 'It was you that killed my grand- father,' he shot his arrows, but with no effect, for his antagonist was clothed with pure wampum. The combat continued all day. He was now reduced to THE LORE OF HIAWATHA 199 three arrows. At that moment a large woodpecker (the ma-ma) flew past and lit on a tree. 'Mana- bozho,' he cried, 'your adversary has a vulnerable point; shoot at the lock of hair on the crown of his head.' He shot his first arrow so as only to draw blood. The Manito made one or two misteady steps, but recovered himself. A second arrow brought him to his knees. But he again recovered. In so do- ing, he exposed his head and gave his adversary a chance to fire his arrow which penetrated deep and brought him a lifeless corpse to the ground. Mana- bozho uttered his saw-saw-quaUj took his scalp as a trophy, and taking the Manito's blood rubbed it on the woodpecker's head, the feathers of which are red to this day. He returned home singing songs of triumph and beating his drxmi. When his grand- mother heard him she came to the shore and welcomed him with songs and dancing, and he displayed his trophies." It is interesting to see how our poet in working over this material has left out or passed lightly over the tricksyness of Manabozho, perhaps most relished by the Indian mind. He has even forborne to make him scalp the Manito, and, instead, makes him carry off only the coat of wampum. The pitchy water is an element of the story he has made much of, and to con- trast merely the crude original description of this with the dreary slime the poet describes so effectively, is to have an object-lesson in the workings of the creative poetic faculty. In the original, a series of travels, exploits, and crafty, sometimes cruel adventures with bird and beast followed, which Longfellow omits. They would have 200 LONGFELLOW'S COUNTRY made his Hiawatha much more whimsical and sav- age, and less dignified. From the chief one of these exploits, however, against the Prince of Snakes and his serpent tribe, which Longfellow left out — prob- ably because it would have added little to the similar snake victory just related — he has borrowed their taunts of him as a Shau-go-dai-a (coward) to put in the mouth of Pearl Feather ; and from quite another story of "Mishosha, or the Magician of the Lakes," told by Schoolcraft in his second volume, he has bor- rowed the charm Hiawatha pronounced, in order to send his canoe forward — Chemaun. The story of "Hiawatha's Wooing" is charmingly elaborated from a few hints in Schoolcraft's account. "When Manabozho was preparing for the fight with Pearl Feather, having no heads for his arrows, his grandmother, Noko, told him of an old man living at some distance who could make them, so he sent her for some. She did not bring enough, so he sent her again, and then thinking to himself, 'I must find out the way to make these heads,' pretended he wanted some larger heads and sent her again. Then fol- lowing her at a distance, he went, saw the old man at work, discovered his process, and at the same time beheld his beautiful daughter and felt his breast beat with a new emotion. But he took care to get home before his grandmother, and commenced singing as if he had never left the lodge." Some pages further on, it is mentioned that, "hav- ing accomplished the victory over the reptiles, Mana- bozho returned to his former place of dwelling, and married the arrow-maker's daughter." Longfellow has made his Hiawatha discover the arrow-maker and Cotyrisht, 1909, by Underwood & Underwood, N. V. The Falls of Minnehaha THE LORE OF HIAWATHA 201 his daughter for himself without any deceit to No- komis, while on his way homeward after his contest with his father, already mentioned; and the only trace of cunning towards his grandmother which remains in his story is shown in the attractive light of the natural reserve of the young man who is as yet but half aware of the dreams cherished in his heart. The friction with Nokomis about wedding a stran- ger, and the whole pretty romance, as told in the tenth canto, is apparently due to Longfellow's happy fancy. The name Minnehaha, he himself tells us, he found in Miss Eastman's "Dacotah, or Legends of the Sioux," where she describes between Fort Snelling and the Falls of St. Anthony the "Little Falls, forty feet in height, on a stream that empties into the Mississippi. The Indians called these Mine- hah-hah, or laughing waters." The poet has made Hiawatha's Wedding Feast the opportunity for introducing us to Pau-Puk-Keewis, a mischievous sort of Indian Mercury. In fact, he evidently belongs to the family of wind gods. He also makes us further acquainted with Chibiabos, who sings some Indian songs, and with lagoo, the great boaster and story-teller, who relates the charming story of "Osseo, the Evening Star." The incident of Pau-Puk-Keewis building up the sand-dtmes along the shores of Lake Superior seems to be an invention of the poet — at least, there is no such incident in the story of Pau-Puk-Keewis as told in "Algic Researches." It is, however, quite in keep- ing with his character, which Longfellow everywhere develops on the model of a Mercury. lagoo's story is given in "Algic Researches": 202 LONGFELLOW'S COUNTRY "He was noted in Indian lore for having given ex- travagant narrations of whatever he had seen, heard, or accomplished. He told of a serpent he had seen, which had hair on its neck like a mane and feet re- sembling a quadruped. Another time he told of mosquitoes of such enormous size that he staked his reputation on the fact that a single wing of one of them was sufficient for a sail to his canoe, and the proboscis as big as his wife's shovel. The character of this Indian story-teller for extravagance was so well known that his name became a proverb, and if any hunter or warrior undertook to embellish his exploits in telling of them his hearers would call out, 'So here we have lagoo come again.' " Notwithstanding his reputation as a story-teller, there are but few scraps of his stories to be foimd; but Longfellow cleverly puts into his mouth the story of Osseo, the Magician, which is little more than a poetized version of the story as told by the Algon- quins. The tale of the Red Swan to which lagoo refers, is also told in "Algic Researches": "Three brothers were hunting on a wager to see who would bring home the first game. They were to shoot no other animal but such as each was in the habit of killing. They set out different ways; Odjib- wa, the youngest, had not gone far before he saw a bear, an animal he was not to kill, by the agreement. He followed him close, and drove an arrow through him, which brought him to the ground. Although contrary to the bet, he immediately commenced skin- ning him, when suddenly something red tinged all the air around him. He rubbed his eyes, thinking he THE LORE OF HIAWATHA 203 was perhaps deceived: but without effect, for the red hue continued. At length he heard a strange noise at a distance. It first appeared like a human voice, but after following the sound for some distance he reached the shores of a lake, and soon saw the object he was looking for. At a distance out in the lake sat a most beautiful red swan, whose plumage glittered in the sun, and who would now and then make the same noise he had heard. He was within long bow- shot, and, pulling the arrow from the bow-string up to his ear, took deliberate aim and shot. The arrow took no effect and he shot and shot again until his quiver was empty. Still the swan remained, moving round and round, stretching its long neck and dipping its bill into the water, as if heedless of the arrows shot at it. Odjibwa ran home and got all his own and his brothers' arrows and shot them all away. He then stood and gazed at the beautiful bird. While standing, he remembered his brothers' saying that in their deceased father's medicine rack were three magic arrows. Off he started, his anxiety to kill the swan overcoming all scruples. At any other time he would have deemed it sacrilege to open his father's medi- cine rack; but now he hastily seized the three arrows and ran back, leaving the other contents of the rack scattered over the lodge. The swan was still there. He shot the first arrow with great precision, and came very near to it. The second came still closer; as he took the last arrow, he felt his arm firmer, and, draw- ing it up with vigor, saw it pass through the neck of the swan a little above the breast. Still it did not pre- vent the bird from flying off, which it did, however, at first slowly, flapping its wings and rising gradual- 204 LONGFELLOW'S COUNTRY ly into the air, and then flying off toward the sinking of the sun." The prosperous course of Hiawatha's life after his wedding is cleverly implied by the incidents described in Cantos XIII and XIV- For the Indian custom he introduces of blessing the cornfields, making Minnehaha, as Hiawatha's happy wife, defend the safety of the crops, he found warrant in "Aboriginal Archives," as follows: "To cast a protective spell, and secure the fields against vermin, protect the crops against blight, and make them prolific, the mother of the family chooses a suitable hour at night, when the children are at rest and the sky is overcast, and having divested herself of her garments trails her machecota behind her and per- forms the circuit of the field." It is well known that corn-planting and corn- gathering was the prerogative of the women, who con- sidered this work only a just equivalent for the hunt- ing duties of the men, as well as their duties in de- fending the villages from their enemies. The incident of the husking-scene is a bit of Indian jollity described in "Oneota," and told literally by the poet. The lit- eral meaning of the term, Wagemin, is a mass or crooked ear of grain ; but the ear of corn so-called is a conventional type of a little old man pilfering ears of corn in a corn-field. The word is taken as the basis of the cereal chorus, sung by the Northern Algonquin tribes. It is coupled with the phrase, Paimosaid. Its literal meaning is, he who walks, but the idea conveyed by it is "he who walks by night to pilfer corn." For the Indian manner of picture-writing, of carv- ing the sign of the family totem on the graveposts, or THE LORE OF HIAWATHA 205 of painting on birch bark and skin the records of events, the lore of the medicine-men, the songs of the wabenos or the dreams of the jossakeeds, all of which, according to tradition, as Schoolcraft reports, Mana- bozho taught them, and which our poet therefore makes Hiawatha invent, Longfellow evidently- studied carefully the descriptions and the plates given in the first of Schoolcraft's large folios. How ac- curately he followed these, and yet with how much more interesting and graphic a hand he colored the colorless explanations collected there, may appear from the following abstract of the account of the love-song. He has singled out this particular song among all the songs of the original, and it is to be no- ticed that he incorporates the look of the colored fig- ures in the plate as well as the gist of the explana- tion of what the mnemonic symbols mean in his poetic version of the song. "Figure 1. [representing in the plate a red figure standing], a person who affects to be invested with magic power to charm the other sex which makes him regard himself as a monedo or god. Fig. 2. [a man painted red sitting] is depicted beating a magic drum. He sings — Hear the sounds of my voice, of my song. Fig. 3. [same with the roof -line of a wigwam over- head]. He surrounds himself with a secret lodge. Fig. 4. [two red figures with one long arm]. He de- picts the intimate union of their affection by joining two bodies with one continuous arm. He sings, I can make her blush because I hear aU she says of me. Fig. 5. [a red figure in a circle] . He represents her on an island. He sings, Were she on a distant island I could make her swim over. Fig. 6. [same lying 206 LONGFELLOW'S COUNTRY down]. She is depicted asleep. He boasts of his magical powers which are capable of reaching her heart. He sings, Were she far off, even on the other hemisphere. Fig. 7. [a red heart in a circle] depicts a naked heart. He sings, I speak to your heart. The series of figures may be read thus: 1. It is my form and person that makes me great. 2. Hear the voice of my song — it is my voice. 3. I shield myself with secret coverings. 4. All your thoughts are known to me — blush! 5. I could draw you hence were you on a desert island. 6. Though you were on the other hemisphere. 7. I speak to your naked heart." The story of "Hiawatha's Lamentation" is foimd- ed on an Iroquois legend of the origin of the medicine dance. According to this story, Chibiabos was a brother of Manabozho's, and their father was a Man- ito, or a great spirit who married a mortal wortian. The Manitoes became jealous of these brothers, and caused Chibiabos to fall through the ice of one of the great lakes, although Manabozho had cautioned him not to separate himself from him. There the Manitoes hid his body. Manabozho wailed along the shores and waged war against all Manitoes, hurhng many of them into the abyss. Six years he lamented, his face smeared with black, and calling 'Chibiabos.' The Manitoes consult how to appease hina — especially the oldest and wisest Manito who had nothing to do with the death of Chibiabos. They build a sacred lodge close to his, prepare a feast, pipe and delicious to- bacco; then, each carrying a sack of bear, otter or lynx, skin full of medicines culled from all plants, in- vite him to feast. He raises his head, washes off his THE LORE OF HIAWATHA 207 mourning, drinks the cup they offer in propitiation and as a rite, and, his melancholy departing, they sing and dance, and smoke the sacred pipe, and so was initiated the great medicine dance. The Manitoes then bring Chibiabos to life, but forbid him to enter the lodge. Through a chink they give him a burning coal and tell him to go and preside over the land of the dead and kindle a fire for his aunts and uncles. Manabozho goes to the Great Spirit, and then de- scending to earth confirms the mystery of the medicine dance and initiates those to whom he gives medicines, making offerings to Misukumigakwa, the mother of the earth, for the growth of medical roots. The white stone canoe in which Longfellow repre- sents Chibiabos as sailing is described in a story of a young man who goes to seek his dead lady-love in the land of souls. After journeying for some time, he came to the lodge of Chibiabos, who directs him on his way to the lake across which lay the land of souls. When he reaches the lake, he finds a canoe of shining white stone, with shining paddles. He enters the canoe, takes the paddles in his hands, when to his joy and sur- prise, on turning round, he beholds the object of his search in another canoe exactly the same. The materials for Cantos XVI and XVII are found principally in the story of Pau-Puk-Keewis in "Algic Researches." The setting of the scene, in Canto XVI, where Pau-Puk-Keewis comes and in- terrupts the story-telling of lagoo, is, of course, pure- ly fanciful. The story of the summer-maker which lagoo is telling, is followed exactly except in lan- guage. The incident of Pau-Puk-Keewis teaching 208 LONGFELLOW'S COUNTRY the game of bowl is also fanciful, though the real In- dian game is exactly depicted by Longfellow. This game is played with thirteen pieces, nine of which are formed of bone and four of circular bits of brass. The right side of the bone pieces is red with edges and dots burned black [which represent differ- ent objects, each with a special value] with hot iron. The reverse is white. The brass pieces are convex and bright on the right side, concave and dull on the left. The game is won by the red pieces. All are shaken in a curiously carved wooden bowl and the luckiest throw is when all the pieces turn up red and No. 1 stands upright on the bright side of a brass disc. Life is given to the picture by representing Pau- Puk-Keewis as winning everything and finally stak- ing all his winnings on the yoimg pipe-bearer, grand- son of lagoo, whom he also wins. In the Indian legend the pipe-bearer follows Pau-Puk-Keewis from attachment, and he is not the grandson of lagoo, who does not appear in the story at aU. A considerable portion of the tale of Pau-Puk- Keewis is not used by Longfellow, who culls out such striking incidents as the ransacking of Hiawatha's lodge when the hero was absent, the killing of the raven and also the mountain chickens, and the mes- sage sent by the birds to their brother Hiawatha. In the Hunting of Pau-Puk-Keewis, Longfellow changes the place of the incidents in such a way as to greatly enhance the interest of the story. All the transformations into animals, with the exception of that into a snake, occur in the original legend before his conflict with Hiawatha, merely as a means of THE LORE OF HIAWATHA 209 amusing himself, and not as a means of escape from his pursuer. In the original legend Pau-Puk-Keewis invents some ruses to escape Hiawatha, which Long- fellow has not used; for example, when Pau-Puk- Keewis f oimd himself hard pressed, he climbed a large pine-tree, stripped it of all its leaves, threw them to the winds, and then went on. When Manabozho reached the spot, the tree addressed him. "Great chief," said the tree, "will you give me my life again? Pau-Puk-Keewis has kUled me." Manabozho an- swered, "Yes," and it took him some time to gather the foliage together again. Pau-Puk-Keewis tried the same thing with various trees. Then he rode a long way on the back of an Elk, then broke up a large rock of sandstone which Manabozho was obliged to put together again. Then comes the incident of the serpent and the manito who tries to rescue Pau-Puk- Keewis, which Longfellow uses almost as it stands. The death of Kwasind follows exactly the original legend. "He performed so many feats of strength and skill, that he excited the envy of the Puck-wudj In-in-ee- sug, or fairies, who conspired against his life. 'For,' said they, 'if this man is suffered to go on in his career of strength and exploits, we shall presently have no work to perform. Our agency in the affairs of men must cease. He will undermine our power, and drive us, at last, into the water, where we must all perish, or be devoured by the wicked Neebanawbaig,' The strength of Kwasind was all concentrated in the crown of his head. This was, at the same time, the only vul- nerable part of his body ; and there was but one species of weapon which could be successfully employed in 210 LONGFELLOW'S COUNTRY making any impression upon it. The fairies carefully hunted through the woods to find the weapon. It was the burr or seed vessel of the white pine. They gath- ered a quantity of this article, and waylaid Kwasind at a point on the river, where the red rocks jut into the water, forming rude castles — a point which he was accustomed to pass in his canoe. They waited a long time, making merry upon these rocks, for it was a highly romantic spot. At last the wished- for object appeared, Kwasind came floating calmly down the stream, on the afternoon of a svmimer's day, languid with the heat of the weather and almost asleep. When his canoe came directly beneath the cliff, the tallest and stoutest fairy began the attack. It was a long time before they could hit the vulnerable part, but success at length crowned their efforts, and Kwasind sank, never to rise more. "Ever since this victory the Puck-wudj In-in-ee have made that point of rock a favorite resort. The hunters often hear them laugh, and see their little plimies shake as they pass this scene on light summer evenings." The story of the strange unearthly guests who came to test the patience and nobility of Hiawatha's house- hold is based upon one of the most weird and whim- sical of Indian fancies, the legend of the Jeebi or Two Ghosts : "There lived a hunter in the far North. One dark evening in winter his wife, uneasily awaiting him, heard steps and went expecting to meet her husband, when she beheld two strange females, whom she bade enter. There was something peculiar about them. They would not come near the fire, but sat in a re- THE LORE OF HIAWATHA 211 mote part of the lodge, shy and taciturn. 'Merciful spirit!' cried a voice from the opposite part of the lodge, 'there are two corpses clothed with garments.' The hunter's wife turned round trembling, but seeing nobody concluded it was the wind. At this moment her husband entered and threw down a large fat deer. 'Behold what a fat animal!' cried the mysterious fe- males, and they ran and pulled off pieces of the whitest fat, eating greedily. The hunter and his wife looked on astonished but said nothing, supposing their guests had been famished. Day after day, how- ever, they repeated this imusual conduct. . . One evening when the hunter entered and they began to tear off the fat, the wife's portion, the wife could not altogether contain her anger, and the guests saw this and became uneasy. The good hunter inquired the cause, and his wife denied having used any hard words ; but when they went to bed he could not sleep for the sobs and sighs of the guests. 'Tell me,' he said, 'what pains you.' They replied that they had been treated with kindness and had not been slighted. Bitter lamentations had reached them in the place of the dead, the bereaved saying how they would de- vote their lives to make their dead happy if they could be restored to them. Three moons had been allotted for the trial, and half the time had passed successfully when the angry feelings of the wife had shown the irksomeness of their presence and made them resolve to go. They promised him success and bade him adieu, and when they ceased speaking total darkness filled the lodge. The hunter and his wife heard the door open and shut and never saw them more." 212 LONGFELLOW'S COUNTRY In borrowing this story to serve as an incident in his hero's life, the poet has, with delicate intention, modified it in such a manner as to allow no shadow of reproach to fall upon Minnehaha for any lapse in hospitality. Furthermore, instead of using it as an auspicious visit, as in the original story, where good fortune follows to the hunter, he has made it an omen of greater trial, indeed, almost a warning to Hia- watha of the famine and the death of Minnehaha which follow soon upon the visit of the Jeebi, and finally of that graver misfortune to Hiawatha's whole race, which leads to the hero's departure and the close of the poem — the coming of the white man to the red man's country. The story of the devastating famine is developed from a hint found in the legend of the Moose and Woodpecker, or Manabozho in distress, in "Algic Researches." "After Manabozho had killed the Prince of Ser- pents, he was living in a state of great want, com- pletely deserted by his powers as a deity, and not able to procure the ordinary means of subsistence. He was at this time living with his wife and chil- dren, in a remote part of the country, where he could get no game. He was miserably poor. It was win- ter and he had not the common Indian comforts." The elaboration of the story from this hint is en- tirely Longfellow's own, and in dignity and pathos far surpasses the trivial incidents of the Indian tale describing how Manabozho obtained food. The por- trayal of Minnehaha as well as her name is entirely fanciful. In none of the legends does the wife of Manabozho appear as a distinct personality. THE LORE OF HIAWATHA 213 Canto XXI opens with the pretty allegory of the coming of summer, founded upon an Ojibway tale called "Peboan and Seegwun." The poet has not embellished it in any particular, and has faithfully reproduced its delicate fancies, but he has made it serve his special purpose by symbolizing the Indian race as Peboan, and the white race as Seegwun — the irresistible conquering influence from the East, like that of spring over winter, which is destined to drive the tribes of Hiawatha westward. He weaves in next, accordingly, an account of the coming of the white people, "in a great canoe with pinions" ; and in this he seems to have worked upon a hint or two from the mouth of a Delaware Indian as given in Hecke- welder's "Historical Account of the Indian Na- tions." "A great many years ago, when men with a white skin had never been seen in this land, some Indians out fishing where the sea widens, espied at a distance something remarkably large floating on the water. Returning and telling their countrymen what they had seen, they all hurried out together and saw with astonishment ... a large fish, as some thought, others a big house floating on the sea ... in which the Great Spirit himself lived, and that he was coming to visit them. . To fitly welcome him they prepared meat for sacrifice . . and a grand dance to appease him in case he might be angry. . . The house, some say large canoe, stops, and a canoe of smaller size comes ashore with one man, in red clothes, who they think must be the Manito himself, and some others in it. He salutes them with a friendly countenance which they return. . They are 214 LONGFELLOW'S COUNTRY lost in admiration. The dress and manners of the newcomers is a source of wonder." There is a similar accoxmt of the welcome given by the Indians to Cartier, who had arrayed himself in gorgeous clothing on his landing at the island of Hochelaga in the St. Lawrence. From one end of the land to the other there seems to have been a myth among the Indians that'a white race was to come from the East and conquer them. Lew Wallace has worked up this feeling most ef- fectively in his novel "The Fair God," which romances upon themes furnished by Prescott's "Conquest of Mexico." Dr. Brinton, whose studies in American archaeology are so extensive, is of the opinion that some forgotten trace of Chinese invasion or of Phoenician or Carthaginian voyages may have lurked in the background of aboriginal consciousness, and given rise to white-man myths or to such prophecies as this one of the Mayas of Yucatan, translated by Dr. Brinton: "What time the sun shall brightest shine Tearful will be the eyes of the King. Four ages yet shall be inscribed, Then shall come the holy priest, the holy god. With grief I speak what now I see, Watch well the road, ye dwellers in Itza, The Master of the earth shall come to us. Thus prophesies Nahu Peet, the Seer, In the days of the fourth age. At the time of its beginning." Upon such a supposition, or with the idea that so wise a leader as Hiawatha would recognize the in- ■« Copy. Detroit Photographic Co, Temple Gate, Sand Island, Lake Superior THE LORE OF HIAWATHA 215 evitable and refrain from vainly combating it, the poet has represented his hero as foreseeing not only the coming of the white man, but the general west- ward dispersion of his race. When relating in the last canto Hiawatha's serene resignation to the new order of things, his greeting of the priest, and his own departure, Longfellow doubtless bore in mind the zeal of the Jesuit mission- aries, who followed in Champlain's wake, after his founding of Quebec in 1608, and who penetrated far to the westward, converting the natives and meeting with such friendly reception as the poet makes Hia- watha give the "Pale-Face Priest of Prayer." We may even recognize in this "Black-Robe Chief" the figure of Paul le Jeime, the first of that devoted band of teachers, the history of whose labors constitutes so celebrated an episode in the settlement of New France. For the closing picture of Hiawatha's departure in his magic boat, the poet had only to follow the legend of Tarenyawago. His departure resembles that of the Algonquin hero Glooskap, and is strik- ingly similar to the departure also in a boat to Ava- lon of the old-world hero. King Arthur. The story of a hero who leaves his people, but one day promises to return, is as widespread as white-man myths. Ar- thur is to return, Glooskap is to return, and though Longfellow does not make use of it, the Iroquois be- lieve that Manabozho still lives on an ice flake in the Arctic Ocean, and they fear the white race will some day find his retreat and drive him off, when this world will end, for as soon as he puts his foot on earth again, it will take fire and all will perish. 216 LONGFELLOW'S COUNTRY A comparison of the Indian stories with Long- fellow's poem shows with what consummate art he has welded together the detached myths and customs of the North American Indian races, making of them a perfectly harmonious and unified whole. Our ad- miration is aroused both because of the human in- terest attaching to the fortunes of the hero, around whom all the other incidents of the story group them- selves, and because of the poem's more general sig- nificance as a symbolic picture of the growth and decay and final blotting out of the Indian phase of civilization. The poem opens with the proclaiming of peace among the nations, which is significant of the close of a purely warlike and barbarous stage of hxunanity, and the making ready for the more pacific arts of peace. The time is ripe for the birth of the culture hero, who stands as the incarnation of the growing life and art of his nation. His education is such as to fit him for the duties he is to fulfil for his race. His life is spent in righting injustices and instructing his fellows in agricultural arts, the 'art of writing and so on. He is aided in this by his two friends, Chibia- bos and Kwasind. His marriage with Minnehaha completes the sum of his happiness; but he has no sooner attained this zenith of prosperity in his do- mestic relations and in his relations with his fellow- men than clouds begin to gather? Troubles thicken about him. The lamentation over'Chibiabos, the mis- chief-making of Pau-Puk-Keewis, the death of Kwasind, succeed one another. Then the visit of the ghosts casts its ill-omened shadow. Famine and the death of Minnehaha follow. Last of all, the white THE LORE OF HIAWATHA 217 man's foot comes to tread down into oblivion the whole Indian race. Freiligrath, who translated Hiawatha into Danish, thought the contact between myth and history too sudden in the last two cantos and Longfellow ac- cepted the criticism, writing to him, "What you say is very true . . but how could I remedy it?" I cannot agree with any such criticism. If "Hia- watha" were, simply an account of the mythic history of the Indians, Freihgrath's opinion might have some weight. But, as we have seen, the poet gives to the myths the significance of a symbol, standing for the culminating phase of Indian life, and in so doing throws into them, if not any special, yet general truths of history. The facts he borrows from his- tory, on the other hand, he does not introduce in an accurate historical manner, but brings them into har- monious relations with the mythical part of the poem by generalizing them and making them also stand symbolically for that conquering phase of life — namely, the Christian — destined to blot out the Indian phase. Longfellow was also accused of having borrowed from the Finnish epic, the "Kalevala." Such an ac- cusation could reflect only upon the ignorance of the persons making it. The resemblances between the Kalevala and the Hiawatha legends do not extend beyond a certain similarity in the general characteris- tics of the myths. In both, all inanimate objects are represented as having life and the power of speech. Magic is also an ever-present element. There are other resemblances which arise from the permeation of the myths with cosmic elements, but in detail the 218 LONGFELLOW'S COUNTRY stories have hardly a point in common. The stage of civilization depicted in the "Kalevala" is very dif- ferent from that in the Hiawatha legends; the man- ners and customs are those of a people advanced much farther along the road to culture. Lemminkauieu, or Kaukomieli, in some of his characteristics re- minds one of Pau-Puk-Keewis and Kwasind com- bined: it comes from the fact that all three are evi- dently beings whose chief attributes have been bor- rowed from the winds. Such similarities as do exist are to be traced to the very general resemblances of the original legends, and are not in any sense due to conscious borrowing. There is one scene in the "Kalevala" that may have given the poet a sugges- tion. It is in the description of Wainamoinen's prep- aration for the building of his boat. Both heroes have magic boats, but they are not at all alike in construc- tion. No Indian legend describes the building of Hiawatha's canoe, but the building of Wainamoinen's boat is described at considerable length. Pellerwoi- nen is sent to get timber. He goes to the forests and holds conversations with various trees as to the suitability of their timber for his purpose. The aspen and the pine both declare they will not do, but the oak, when it is addressed, says : "I for thee will gladly furnish Wood to build the hero's vessel, I am tall and sound and hardy, Have no flaws within my body. Three times in the month of summer. In the warmest of the seasons. Does the sun dwell in my tree-top. THE LORE OF HIAWATHA 219 On my trunk the moonlight glimmers; In my branches sings the cuckoo. In my top her nestlings slumber." Very possibly this may have furnished a hint for the conversations held by Hiawatha with the trees and other objects which provided him with materials for his boat. This, however, is so slight a debt, and the incident has been so transmuted by the genius of the poet, as to place it entirely beyond criticism. There is one really striking resemblance in incident between the Finnish and the Indian poems in the description of the departure of the two heroes. Compare the fol- lowing with the Indian story and the close of Long- fellow's poem: "Thus the ancient Wainamoinen, In his copper-banded vessel, Left his tribe in Kalevala, Sailing o'er the rolling billows, Sailing through the azure vapors. Sailing through the dusk of evening. Sailing to the fiery sunset, To the higher-landed regions To the lower verge of heaven; Quickly gained the far horizon, Gained the purple-colored harbor. Here his bark he firmly anchored. Rested in his boat of copper; But he left his harp of magic. Left his songs and wisdom-sayings To the lasting joy of Suomi." Of the rhythm much has been said. Oliver Wend- ell Holmes spoke of it as having a fatal facility based upon physiological principles; namely, the recital of 220 LONGFELLOW'S COUNTRY each line uses up the air of one natural expiration, so that we read as we naturally do, eighteen or twenty lines in a minute, without disturbing the normal rhythm of breathing, which is also eighteen or twenty breaths to a minute. It is the same as the rhythm of the "Kalevala" and was adopted by the poet as es- pecially suited to his purpose, for the parallelism and repetition characteristic of Finnish metre are just as much characteristic of Indian song. Into this un- doubtedly sing-song rhythm the poet has succeeded in putting a wonderful and fascinating variety of ef- fect. While much of the parallelism and repetition in the "Kalevala" is simply redundancy of expres- sion, in "Hiawatha" each repetition adds some vital touch to the thought and takes the reader along in the story. There is not a more popular poem than this among Longfellow's many popular poems. The criticisms and the parodies that have been showered upon it have one and all missed fire. Its originality and intrinsic beauty have won for it a place among the poems of all time. To offset the strictures of the imseeing or the facetious was the instant recognition of its worth by such men as Emerson, Hawthorne, Taylor, Ban- croft and numerous others, who, in letters to the poet, expressed their praise in no uncertain terms. Com- posers, too, have found "Hiawatha" greatly to their taste as a musical text — one of them, an English- man of genius, Coleridge Taylor, having written a cantata to words from "Hiawatha" that ranks as one of the great musical compositions of the present age. But perhaps there has been no greater tribute to the power of the poem than the fact that the descendants THE LORE OF HIAWATHA 221 of the Ojibways give a dramatic performance of "Hiawatha" every year in honor of the poet. This festival is celebrated at Garden River on Lake Huron, and was, not long since, witnessed in its original set- ting by the poet's daughters. The Indians were deeply interested in the poem and its author, and at the time of the Sportsman's Show in Boston, 1900, among the important features of which were illustrations of Indian life given by a band of Ojibway Indians, they visited the poet's home. This brought their enthusiasm to a climax and as a result they planned the first performance of their "Hiawatha" play. Miss Alice W. Longfellow gives a delightful de- scription of this performance in her "Visit to Hia- watha's People," which she kindly allows me to quote. "The play of 'Hiawatha' was performed on a rocky, thickly wooded point. Near the shore a platform was built around a tall pine-tree, and grouped around this were tepees and huts forming the Indian village. Be- hind this the groimd sloped gradually upward, form- ing a natural amphitheatre. "As a prelude to the play a large pile of brushwood was lighted. Down the hillsides rushed the braves in war paint and feathers — 'Wildly glaring at each other. In their hearts the feuds of ages.' After listening to the commands of the Great Spirit, the warriors threw down their weapons and war-gear and, leaping into the lake, washed the war-paint from their faces. Then they seated themselves and smoked the peace-pipe. 222 LONGFELLOW'S COUNTRY "The second scene showed old Nokomis before her wigwam, singing a lullaby to the little Hiawatha in his linden cradle. Then, the scene changing, Noko- mis led the boy Hiawatha out upon the stage and taught him how to shoot the bow and arrows, while the warriors stood around watching and applauding when he hit the mark. "The fourth scene was the journey of Hiawatha in his manhood after his battle with Mudjekeewis, a pic- turesque figure striding through the woods flecked with sunshine and shadow. 'Only once his pace he slackened. Paused to purchase heads of arrows Of the ancient arrow-maker.' "The wigwam of the ancient arrow-maker was placed far from the rest in the shade of the trees, to give an idea of distance. The arrow-maker, himself a very old man, sat by the entrance, cutting arrow- heads; his daughter, a modest Indian maiden, stood beside him with downcast eyes, whUe the stranger paused to talk with her father. "This scene was followed by the return of Hia- watha to the land of the Dakotahs. Again the old man sat in the doorway, and by him was Minnehaha, 'plaiting mats of flags and rushes.' "She stood modestly on one side while Hiawatha urged his suit, and then putting her hand in his, she foUowed him home through the forest. "Then came the wedding dances, full of life and spirit, the figures moving always rovmd and round in a circle, with a swaying motion, the feet scarcely THE LORE OF HIAWATHA 223 lifted from the ground. Under the pine-tree, tall and erect, with head and eyes upUfted, stood the musi- cian, chanting his songs with a strange rhythmical cadence, and accompanying them on the flat Indian drum. "The old Nokomis in one corner guarded with a war club a group o^maidens who were dancing all the while, and the braves circling round slyly stole one maiden after another, vmtil Nokomis was left alone. Then followed the caribou dance, the dancers with arms uplifted like horns, knocking and striking one another; the bear dance with its clumsy, heavy mo- tion; and the snake dance, where the dancers wound and twisted in and out, round and round ; and always the singer continued his rhythmic chant. "Last came the gambling dance, the favorite with the actors. A mat of rushes was placed on the ground, and on each side kneeled the contestants. At the back stood the old singer, drumming and chant- ing advice to the players. On each side were grouped the women watching the game, their bodies swaying in time to the music, while the players grew more and more excited, arms, heads, bodies, all moving in per- fect rhythm, calling out and shouting as one by one pouches, knives, belts, etc., were passed to the winning side. One side hid a small metal coimter under one of two moccasins, while the other side tried to find it. "This game was interrupted by a sudden shout, and across the water was seen approaching a canoe, and seated in it the missionary, 'the black-robed chief, the prophet.' On the shore he was graciously received by Hiawatha, and led to a wigwam for refreshment 224 LONGFELLOW'S COUNTRY and repose. Then he addressed the attentive tribes in O jib way: 'Told his message to the people. Told the purport of his mission.' Thereupon Hiawatha arose, greeting the missionary, took farewell of all his people and — > 'On the clear and luminous water Launched his birch canoe for sailing.' With hands uplifted he ghded slowly out upon the lake, floating steadily onward across the rippling water toward the setting sun." In the study at Craigie House is the formal invita- tion received by the poet's daughters upon this occa- sion. It is a beautiful piece of birch bark about eight- een inches long and ten inches wide, with many tinted lichens still clinging to it. In one corner the outer bark is stripped off to show the under reddish bark forming a medallion, upon which is sketched in sepia an Indian's head. In the center, the outer bark has been removed in a similar way to form a slanting scroll upon which the invitation is written in Ojibway. Simple and genuine is its wording and one can but wish the poet himself might have shared in this ex- pression of admiration and love : "Ladies: We loved your father. The memory of our people will never die as long as your father's song lives, and that will live forever. "Will you and your husbands and Miss Longfellow come and see us and stay in our royal wigwams on an THE LORE OF HIAWATHA 225 island in Hiawatha's playground, in the land of the O jib ways? We want you to see us live over again the life of Hiawatha in his own country. "KabaoosAj "Wabumasa." The whole is set off by an appropriate frame. It is at once a unique and artistic memorial of the es- timation in which the poet is held by the race whose gift of legend and fancy has been so sympathetically accepted by him — a graceful token that, in the realm of imagination, at least, the American and the Indian shall be known as kin. IN CAMBRIDGE "/ need not praise the sweetness of Ms song. Where limpid verse to limpid verse succeeds Smooth as our Charles, when, fearing lest he wrong The new Ttioon's mirrored skiff, he slides along. Full without noise and whispers in his reeds. "With loving breath of all the winds his name Is blown about the world, but to his friends A sweeter secret hides behind his fame. And Love steals shyly through the loud acclaim To murmur a God bless you! and then ends. f>i ^ ^ H^ * * "Surely if skill in song the shears may stay And of its purpose cheat the charmed abyss. If our poor life be lengthened by a lay. He shall not go, although his presence may. And the next age i/n praise shall double this." James Russell Lowell. VI DURING the larger part of the nineteenth cen- tury, Mr. Longfellow was associated with the intellectual and social life of Camhridge. Under these circumstances, one might expect that much of his poetry would reflect the atmosphere of this environment. Little of Camhridge, however, comes into his work further than an intense apprecia- tion for nature as he saw it from his study windows, his own garden, or in the neighborhood of his beau- tiful home, extending to his favorite walk into Boston over the West Boston bridge. There are a few charming glimpses into the sanctity of his home life. Such are the "Ode to a Child," "Resignation," the "ChUdren's Hour," and "Chil- dren," to which should be added the exquisite sonnet, the "only love poem he ever wrote," dedicated to Mrs. Longfellow, entitled "The Evening Star," though at first mentioned by the poet in his diary as "Hes- perus": "The Indian summer still in its glory. Wrote the sonnet 'Hesperus' in the rustic seat of the old apple-tree." "Lo! in the painted oriel of the West, Whose panes the sunken sun incarnadines. Like a fair lady at her casement shines 329 230 LONGFELLOW'S COUNTRY The evening star, the star of love and rest ! And then anon she doth herself divest Of all her radiant garments, and reclines Behind the sombre screen of yonder pines, With slumber and soft dreams of love oppressed. O my beloved, my sweet Hesperus ! My morning and my evening star of love! My best and gentlest lady! even thus. As that fair planet in the sky above. Dost thou retire unto thy rest at night. And from thy darkened window fades the light." In the ode "To a Child," side by side with the lovely portraiture of the child on its mother's knee, there are fascinating bits of description within and without the house so famous for its historical and literary as- sociations. "Through these once solitary halls Thy pattering footstep falls. The soimd of thy merry voice Makes the old walls Jubilant, and they rejoice With the joy of thy young heart. O'er the light of whose gladness No shadows of sadness From the sombre backgroimd of memory start. "Once, ah, once, within these walls. One whom memory oft recalls. The Father of his Country, dwelt. And yonder meadows broad and damp The fires of the besieging camp Encircled with a burning belt. Up and down these echoing stairs. Heavy with the weight of cares. a a 3 n % < o M o >^ >J m a o Eh IN CAMBRIDGE 231 Sounded his majestic tread; Yes, within this very room Sat he in those hours of gloom, Weary both in heart and head. "But what are these grave thoughts to thee? Out, out! into the open air! Thy only dream is liberty. Thou carest little how or where. "I see thee eager in thy play, Now shouting to the apples on the tree, With cheeks as round and red as they; And now among the yellow stalks, Among the flowering shrubs and plants. As restless as the bee. Along the garden walks, The tracks of thy small carriage- wheels I trace; And see at every turn how they efface Whole villages of sand-roofed tents. That rise like golden domes Above the cavernous and secret homes Of wandering and nomadic tribes of ants. Ah, cruel little Tamerlane, Who, with thy dreadful reign. Dost persecute and overwhelm These hapless Troglodytes of thy realm! "What, tired already! With those suppliant looks. And voice more beautiful than a poet's books. Or murmuring sovmd of water as it flows. Thou comest back to parley with repose! This rustic seat in the old apple-tree. With its overhanging golden canopy Of leaves illuminate with autumnal hues And shining with the argent light of dews, Shall for a season be our place of rest. "Beneath us, like an oriole's pendant nest. 232 LONGFELLOW'S COUNTRY From which the laughing birds have taken wing, By thee abandoned, hangs thy vacant swing. Dream-like the waters of the river gleam; A sailless vessel drops adown the stream, And like it, to a sea as wide and deep. Thou driftest down the tides of sleep." How much the child-life of his home meant to him is reflected in his other poems on his children, by which he has endeared himself to many a young heart. Who, as a small child, has not wondered if "Grave Alice, and laughing Allegra, and Edith, with golden hair," could really be children of flesh and blood, they seemed such far-away and fairy-like beings? Long, long after, he again addressed the children, this time not his own, but the school children of Cambridge, who responded to the happy thought of presenting him on his seventy-second birth- day with an armchair made from the "spreading chestnut tree" under which the village blacksmith shop stood. This substantial chair still stands in his study, in a shape more lasting than if it had been preserved as a tree. The wood has been ebonized, and with its carvings of horse-chestnut leaves and blossoms and fruit, is a beautiful as well as an appropriate re- incarnation of the tree. Under the cushion is an in- scription: "To the author of 'The Village Blacksmith.' This chair made from the wood of the spreading chest- nut-tree, is presented as an expression of grateful re- gard and veneration by the children of Cambridge, who, with their friends, join in best wishes and con- gratulations on this anniversary, February 27, 1879." In raised German letters around the seat is added a verse from the poem — IN CAMBRIDGE 233 "And children coming home from school Look in at the open door; And catch the burning sparks that fly Like chaff from a threshing floor." The prosaic city authorities of Cambridge had the tree removed in spite of the protests of the poet and others in 1876, on the ground that it imperiled drivers bf heavy loads who passed under it. The children, however, rescued it from annihilation, and one likes to think of the poet writing, from the en- circling arms of the horse-chestnut tree his verse had made famous nearly forty years before, his poem of acknowledgement to the Cambridge children. Not the least interesting episode of the poet's life was his appearance on the platform at the children's festival in Sanders' Theatre, when Cambridge celebrated its two hundred and fiftieth anniversary, in 1880, Decem- ber 28th. The chair stood on the platform where all the children could see it, and, to the intense dehght of the assembled youngsters, the poet made a short speech, a most unusual concession on his part. So much was the poet honored by the little boys and girls of the town that, it is said, himdreds of them ventured to present themselves at the door of the house, where they were always welcomed. Mr. Scudder relates a story told by Luigi Monti, who for many years dined with the poet every Sat- urday, which illustrates the pleasure he derived from the appreciation showered upon him by children. "One Christmas, as he [Luigi Monti] was walking toward the house, he was accosted by a girl about twelve years old, who inquired where Mr. Longfellow lived. He told her it was some distance down the 234 LONGFELLOW'S COUNTRY street, but if she would walk along with him he would show her. When they reached the gate, she said: " 'Do you think I can go into the yard?' " 'Oh, yes,' said Signor Monti. 'Do you see the room on the left? That is where Martha Washing- ton held her receptions a hundred years ago. If you look at the windows on the right you will probably see a white-haired gentleman reading a paper. Well, that will be Mr. Longfellow.' "The child looked gratified and happy at the un- expected pleasure of really seeing the man whose poems she said she loved. As Signor Monti drew near the house he saw Mr. Longfellow standing with his back against the window, his head out of sight. When he went in, the kind-hearted Italian said: " 'Do look out of the window and bow to that little girl, who wants to see you very much.' " 'A little girl wants to see me very much? Where is she?' He hastened to the door, and, beckoning with his hand, called out: 'Come here, little girl; come here, if you want to see me.' She came forward, and he took her hand and asked her name. Then he kindly led her into the house, showed her the old clock on the stairs, the children's chair, and the various souve- nirs which he had gathered." The smithy of the poem was near the poet's house and was passed daily by him. When he first speaks of the poem, he calls it a "new psalm of life," but writing to his father a year later he says : "There will be a kind of a ballad on a blacksmith in the next Knickerbocker.''^ "The Open Window" commemorizes another his- torical house, though in such a vague manner that IN CAMBRIDGE 235 the poem might be attached to any home which no longer fulfilled its functions of family life. "The old house by the lindens Stood silent in the shade. And on the graveled pathway The light and shadow played. "I saw the nursery windows Wide open to the air; But the faces of the children, They were no longer there." This old house stood on Brattle Street, at the cor- ner of Sparks Street, and is now the third house from the corner. It was known as the Lechmere house, having been built by Richard Lechmere. Here Baron Riedesel was quartered as prisoner of war after the surrender of Burgoyne, and here the Bar- oness wrote her name upon the window-pane with a diamond — ^material, surely, for romance ; but the poet was evidently lost to every aspect except that of the departed children, probably because at the time he was so happy in his own children. "The birds sang in the branches, With sweet, familiar tone; But the voices of the children Will be heard in dreams alone!" It is pleasant to look through the poet's eyes at the scenes he so much loved. Even his delight in the sea could not blot out his peculiarly affectionate re- gard for his Cambridge home. He, more than once, notes with delight in his diary, after a summer by the 236 LONGFELLOW'S COUNTRY sea, that they are back in Cambridge, and that the children are wild with joy. He comments upon the coming of spring: "For my own part I am delighted to hear the birds again. Spring always reminds me of the Palingenesis, or re-creation of the old alchemists, who believed that form is indestructible and that out of the ashes of a rose the rose itself could be reconstructed — if they could only discover the great secret of nature. It is done every spring beneath our windows and before our eyes, and is always so won- - derful and so beautiful." Later on this thought took form in poetry, but he used the imagery of the sea, and introduced a note of melancholy of which there was not a suspicion in his first joyous outburst when watching the oncoming of spring from his own win- dows. This should really be classed among his poems of the sea, so fine is the picture of North Shore scenery given in the first stanzas. 'I lay upon the headland-height, and listened To the incessant sobbing of the sea In caverns under me. And watched the waves, that tossed and fled and glistened. Until the rolling meadows of amethyst Melted away in mist. "Then suddenly, as one from sleep, I started; For round about me all the sunny capes Seemed peopled with the shapes Of those whom I had known in days departed. Appareled in the loveliness which gleams On faces seen in dreams. IN CAMBRIDGE 237 "A moment only, and the light and glory Faded away, and the disconsolate shore Stood lonely as before; And the wild roses of the promontory Around me shuddered in the wind and shed The petals of pale red. "There was an old belief that in the embers Of all things their primordial form exists. And cunning alchemists Could re-create the rose with all its members From its own ashes, but without the bloom. Without the lost perfume. "Ah, me! What wonder-working, occult science Can from the ashes in our hearts once more The rose of youth restore? What craft of alchemy can bid defiance To time and change, and for a single hour Renew this phantom-flower?" The remainder of the poem is dominated by the idea that the secret of nature for which the old alchemists looked has not been found, rather than by the thought of the loveliness of the idea as he ex- pressed it in his first thought. The most delightful of his nature-pictures go back to his early days at Craigie House, when not only his poetry, but his diary is full of the beauty and the glory constantly being wafted in to him through his open window. The spell of its nights was upon him when he wrote sitting at his window "on one of the balmiest nights of the year" — "I heard the trailing garments of the night Sweep through her marble halls, I saw her sable skirts all fringed with light From the celestial walls!" 238 LONGFELLOW'S COUNTRY The far away light of stars vibrates in "There is no light in earth or heaven, But the cold light of stars ; And the first watch of the night is given To the red planet Mars." "On a beautiful summer night," he explains, he wrote this poem. "The moon, a little strip of silver, was just setting behind the groves of Mount Au- burn, and the planet Mars blazing in the southeast. There was a singular light in the sky." Upon another occasion it is the moonlight he gazes upon from his window that dominates the scene. The planet Mars brought to his mind the symbol of the unconquerable will: "The star of the imconquered will. He rises in my breast. Serene, and resolute, and still. And calm, and self-possessed." But with the moonlight comes the thought of En- dymion awakened by the moon's kiss : "The rising moon has hid the stars; Her level rays, like golden bars. Lie on the landscape green. With shadows brown between. "And silver white the river gleams, As if Diana, in her dreams, Had dropt her silver bow Upon the meadows low. "On such a tranquil night as this. She awoke Endymion with a kiss. When, sleeping in the grove. He dreamed not of her love. IN CAMBRIDGE 239 "Like Dian's kiss, unasked, unsought. Love gives itself, but is not bought; Nor voice, nor sound betrays Its deep, impassioned gaze. "It comes — the beautiful, the free. The crown of all humanity — In silence and alone To seek the elected one. >» Another poem which seems especially identified with nature as he saw and felt it about him in his home is "Flowers." This he tells us he wrote to send with a bouquet of autumnal flowers. "I still remem- ber the great delight I took in its composition, and the bright sunshine that streamed in at the southern windows as I walked to and fro, pausing ever and anon to note down my thoughts." In fact all the poems he wrote at this time seem to have blossomed into being under the influence of nature, even when the subject was wholly introspective. "The Psalm of Life," which, though it was a voice from his in- most heart at a time when he was "rallying from de- pression," doubtless owes to the bright summer morning upon which it was written, much of its hope- fulness. This poem should not be passed over with- out mention being made of the extraordinary moral effect it had upon many of its readers at the time of its appearance. "It was copied far and wide," writes Samuel Long- fellow. "Young men read it with dehght; their hearts were stirred by it as by a bugle summons. It roused them to high resolve, and wakened them to a new sense of the meaning and worth of life. Thirty years later, a man high in the community for in- 240 LONGFELLOW'S COUNTRY tegrity and generosity, came to his old professor in chemistry, and, reminding him of his having one day read this poem to his class, added, 'I feel that I can never repay you for the good you did me that day in reading us the "Psalm of Life." I grasped its spirit instantly and made it the inspiration of my life.' Mr. Sxminer tells us of a classmate of his who was saved from suicide by reading this poem. An inci- dent told of an officer in the Franco-German war of 1870 also illustrates the wonderful hold this poem had upon those who were in any way overwhelmed by life's fatalities : "In the midst of the siege of Paris, a venerable man presented himself to me, bowed with grief. He said, 'I am Monsieur R., Procureur-General of the Cour de Cassation. I have just learned that my son has been arrested by the German authorities at Ver- sailles on an entirely unfounded charge. He is to be sent to a German fortress and may be condemned to death. I am here alone and helpless. I feel that my mind will give way if I cannot find occupation; can you tell me of some English book I can translate into French?' I promised to do so and he left me. Within an hour or two, however, I received a line from him saying he had found what he required. A few days afterward he came again to see me; but now erect, his face bright with hope, his voice clear and strong. He said, 'I have been translating Longfellow's "Psalm of Life" and I am a new man; I feel that my mind is saved and that faith and hope have taken the place of despair.' " Of "Footsteps of Angels" the poet wrote: "A lovely morning. Sat at home and wrote a third 'Psalm o S o O IZi o CO O pq •^ iJ < Eh SI H m H ?; o o IN CAMBRIDGE 241 of Life' "; and of "The Reaper and the Flowers," he wrote : "A beautiful holy morning within me. I was softly excited, I knew not why, and wrote with peace in my heart and not without tears in my eyes." A charm- ing story is connected with this poem, showing once more the hold he was apt to take upon the minds of children. A lady, who had bought a copy of "Voices of the Night," gave it to her little girl, after reading to her "The Reaper and the Flowers." The same even- ing the child on repeating her prayers said: "Mother, do you not think 'The Reaper' beautiful enough to mix with my prayer this lovely moonlight night?" Many of the entries in his diary at this time touch upon fancies so lovely that one wonders why they were not transformed into verse. Take a few at random: "Raining, and the birds shrieking! The storm will thresh all the blossoms from the trees. Where do the birds hide themselves in such storms? At what firesides do they dry their feathery cloaks? At the fireside of the great sun, to-morrow — ^not be- fore ; they must sit in wet clothes till then." "How glorious these spring mornings are! I sit by an open window and inhale the pure morning air and feel how delightful it is to live! Peach, pear, and cherry trees are all in blossom together in the garden." "Nothing can well surpass the beauty of Cambridge at this season. Every tree is heavy with blossoms, and the whole air laden with perfume. My residence here in the old Craigie House is a paradise." "A thunderstorm is now sailing up majestically from the southwest with almost unbroken volleys of thunder. The wind seems to be storming a cloud- 242 LONGFELLOW'S COUNTRY redoubt in gallant style, and marches onward with dust, and green banners of the trees waving, and rattle of musketry, and occasional heavy cannonading, and an explosion like the blowing up of a powder wagon." "Oh, what glorious, glorious moonlight nights! I never beheld in Italy aught more passing fair. The river in the meadow in front of my house spreads out into a silver lake, and the black shadows lie upon the grass like engravings in a book. Autumn has writ- ten his rubric on the illuminated leaves. The wind turns them over and chants like a friar." "A glorious day. Could not stay at home, but went alone to Fresh Pond. What a lovely lake it is, with the forest hanging roimd it — ^Uke a mirror with a garland of oak leaves ! Took a boat and floated away rocked in dreams." "To-day I heard the song of the bluebird, the herald of spring. It is exquisite music to my ear. It announces the approach of Nature's great proces- sion of grass, leaves, flowers and waving cornfields. The spring, the spring, the ever beautiful! with its rushing waters, and floating clouds like thistle-down, and buds whose pale parting lips prophesy delight and love." The entrancing vision of the Charles River seems ever present in the poet's mind. From the windows of Craigie House can still be seen the river "that in silence windest Through the meadows, bright and free." The poet looked over fields and meadows to his cherished stream. Now a trim park, the Longfellow IN CAMBRIDGE 243 Memorial Park, separates the house from the river. The fields were undoubtedly more redolent of poetic possibilities than the park, but how much better the park than perhaps towering apartment houses, blot- ting out the view so precious because of its associa- tion with the poet's muse. He so loved the river that we imagine the river nymphs casting their spell of sympathy about him and sustaining him in his trials as aforetime the Oceanides did Prometheus. Nymphs that dwell in the depths of the river that en- circles Cambridge would surely be akin to the nymphs of the river that encircled the earth, and would sing their devoted lays to the spirit ear of the poet. There are greater changes to record in regard to the bridge upon which the poet "stood at midnight." The old wooden bridge has given place to a stone one, the handsomest bridge Boston boasts, and the tide that swept and eddied through "the wooden piers" has had its life sapped out of it by the dam, recently con- structed across the mouth of the river. Now the Charles is always flood-tide, no longer to be moved by the steady rhythmic surge of the ocean, but only by the fickle winds. The writer suspects that the river resents being deprived of its supply of salt, and takes its revenge by chilling the spring East winds to a pitch of rancorousness far beyond that of former springs — though our poet does speak somewhere of the last day of May "presenting the heavens like a crystal goblet, full of sunshine iced with an East wind." When Mr. Longfellow first took his walks over this bridge in 1838 and 1839, Cambridge was still a vil- lage, and as remembered by his biographer, Mr. Sam- 244 LONGFELLOW'S COUNTRY uel Longfellow, "the Common had not long before been enclosed. The First Parish Church, in all the freshness of its quasi-Gothic, had but lately taken its post as sentinel at the end of the burying groimd op- posite to the lowly nun' of Christ Church. The great elms were still in the square, untouched by the arbor- icidal instincts of the authorities and spreading their ample shelter for the omnibus drivers and their waiting horses. The omnibus, called the 'hourly,' from its times of going, was the only public means of communication with Boston, and if infrequent, was accommodating, since, on command, it called for and left its passengers at their houses. The fare was a quarter of a dollar, so the students generally com- bined economy with exercise and walked in and out of town, as Boston was called." Many are the walks over this bridge recorded by the poet. Sometimes a walk in Boston Com- mon rounded up the journey into town, some- times a reading by Mrs. Kemble, a concert or a visit to the historian Prescott in the first blush of his fame, as well as dinners with other celebrities. In fact, what of altogether delightful did not the poet experience as the reward of those walks to town! The road, as he followed it, must have been a much prettier one than it would be now, through built-up streets instead of through a sparsely settled district, where tidal meadows kept up their pendulous swing between the charm of laughing waters and the lugubriousness of mud banks. A boulevard, wide and beautiful, with its central garden of trees and shrubs, connects the poet's bridge with Harvard IN CAMBRIDGE 245 Bridge and continues beyond, one day to join the en- circling Parkway which is rapidly becoming one of Boston's greatest beauties. If the poet were walking in town to-day, instead of branching off by way of Main Street to reach the West Boston Bridge, he would keep to Massachusetts Avenue, cross the Har- vard Bridge, from which the view is more beautiful than from the West Boston Bridge, and reach the heart of the city by the parkway of Commonwealth Avenue. A more beautiful walk through a closely buUt-up city it would be difficult to imagine. The Longfellow house is, of course, one of the most famous spots in Cambridge, eagerly picked out by all tourists, as the site which, above all, they wish to see. Even in these days when the muses sit discon- solate on Helicon, weeping tears because of their pub- lic neglect, he who could not be moved by the sight of a poet's home would be fit for "treasons, stratagems and spoils." Add to this the fact that the Father of his Country lived in the house for nine months, taking care of the infant nation, while Martha Washington gave Twelfth-night parties to help keep the infant awake, and there gathers about the house a vari-col- ored halo of war, society and poetry that is perfectly irresistible. And add to this such guests as Queen Victoria's father, and Talleyrand, and one seems to touch in this house the history of the whole world. Some of this is due to the rich Mr. Craigie, who thought to pile up glory, with his wealth, for him- self, when he entertained in such princely style, and brought to his table guests of historical distinction; but the muses may cheer up, for after all, it is the poet 246 LONGFELLOW'S COUNTRY who has immortalized the house with his happy chants to river, sky, and stars, which visited him in his study, when Mr. Craigie's widow had been reduced to rent- ing part of her house to eke out her husband's squan- dered income. The poet's own account of how he came there is full of interest: "The first time I was in Craigie House was on a beautiful summer afternoon in the year 1837. I came to see Mr. McLane, a law student, who occupied the southeastern chamber. The window blinds were closed, but through them came a pleasant breeze, and I could see the waters of the Charles gleaming in the meadows, McLane left his room and I took posses- sion of his room, making use of it as a library and study, and having the adjoining chamber for my bed- room. At first Mrs. Craigie declined to let me have rooms. I remember how she looked as she stood, in her white turban, with her hands crossed behind her, snapping her gray eyes. She had resolved, she said, to take no more students into her house. But her manner changed when I told her who I was. She said she had read 'Outre-Mer,' of which one num- ber was lying on her sideboard. She then took me all over the house and showed me every room in it, saying, as we went into each, that I could not have that one. She finally consented to my taking the rooms mentioned above, on condition that the door leading into the back entry should be locked on the outside. "The winter was a very solitary one, and the house very still. I used to hear Mrs. Craigie go down to breakfast at nine or ten in the morning, and go up IN CAMBRIDGE 247 to bed at eleven at night. During the day she sel- dom left her parlor, where she sat reading the news- papers and the magazines — occasionally a volume of Voltaire. "During the following summer the fine old elms in front of the house were attacked by canker-worms, which, after having devoured the leaves, came spin- ning down in myriads. Mrs. Craigie used to sit by the open windows and let them crawl over her white turban unmolested. She would have nothing done to protect the trees from these worms; she used to say: 'Why, sir, they are our f ellow- worms ; they have as good a right to live as we have.' " As a result of this generous attitude, there is but one of those fine old sky-touching elms left, the "con- suming canker" having utterly disregarded their "right to live." Occasionally, as in "The Village Blacksmith," the poet stepped outside his study, even outside his own garden and fields, and quite away from the all-em- bracing Charles, to celebrate some not too-far distant bit of scenery. The Inn at Sudbury is the most impor- tant example. This he describes quite minutely in the prologue to "The Wayside Inn." It was no longer an inn in Longfellow's day, though for a hundred and seventy-five years it had flourished as the Red-Horse Tavern, kept by the Howes, who, twenty-five years before that, had built it for a country house. Losing their fortune they became inn-keepers. It is about twenty miles from Boston, in a lovely valley, and stands upon a winding road with ancient oaks to shade the front of the house. 248 LONGFELLOW'S COUNTRY "As ancient is this hostelry As any in the land may be, BuUt in the old Colonial day, When men lived in a grander way, With ampler hospitality; A kind of old Hobgoblin Hall, Now somewhat fallen to decay. With weather stains upon the wall. And stairways worn and crazy doors. And creaking and uneven floors. And chimneys huge, and tiled and tall. "A region of repose it seems, A place of slumber and of dreams. Remote among the wooded hills! For there no noisy railway speeds. Its torch-race scattering smoke and gleeds; But noon and night the pausing teams Stop under the great oaks, that throw Tangles of light and shade below. On roofs and doors and window sUls. "Across the road the barns display Their lines of stalls, their mows of hay, Through the wide doors their breezes blow. The wattled cocks strut to and fro. And half effaced by rain and shine, The Red Horse prances on the sign. 'Roimd this old-fashioned quaint abode Deep silence reigned, save when a gust Went rushing down the country road. And skeletons of leaves and dust, A moment quickened by its breath, Shuddered and danced their dance of death. And through the ancient oaks o'erhead Mysterious voices moaned and fled." IN CAMBRIDGE 249 Nearer home again is "In the Churchyard at Cam- bridge." This is the churchyard of Christ Church, on Garden Street, opposite the Common. It has known, like many another church, the vicissitudes of war. Connecticut troops were quartered here about the time of the Battle of Bunker Hill, and, being Tory property, its lead organ-pipes were melted into bul- lets. The legend which the poet has versified so gracefully is told of the Vassall monument, under which Madame Vassall is buried. It is a red sand- stone slab, supported by five square pilasters, one at each comer and one in the middle. On its upper surface is engraved a vase and an image of the Sun — supposed to symbolize the origin of the name, Vassol. The legend goes that two slaves were buried here, one at the head, and one at the foot of the tomb. StiU nearer home, within sound again of the river= nymphs, is the exquisite poem on the home of James Russell Lowell, "The Herons of Elmwood," one of the most enchanting songs ever simg by poet to a brother poet: "Warm and still is the summer night. As here by the river's brink I wander; While overhead are the stars, and white The glimmering lamps on the hillside yonder. "Silent are all the sounds of day; Nothing I hear but the chirp of crickets. And the cry of the herons winging their way O'er the poet's house in the Elmwood thickets. "Call to him, herons, as slowly you pass To your roosts in the haunts of the exiled thrushes. Sing him the song of the green morass. And the tides that water the reeds and rushes. 250 LONGFELLOW'S COUNTRY "Sing him the mystical song of the Hern, And the secret that baffles our utmost seeking; For only a sound of lament we discern, And cannot interpret the words you are speaking. "Sing of the air, and the wild delight Of wings that uplift and winds that uphold you. The joy of freedom, the rapture of flight Through the drift of the floating mists that enfold you; "Of the landscape lying so far below. With its towns and rivers and desert places ; And the splendor of light above, and the glow Of the limitless, blue, ethereal spaces. "Ask him if songs of the Troubadours, Or of Minnesingers in .old black-letter, Sound in his ears more sweet than yours, And if yours are not sweeter and milder and better. "Sing to him, say to him, here at his gate. Where the boughs of the stately elms are meeting. Some one hath lingered to meditate. And send him unseen this friendly greeting; "That many another hath done the same. Though not by a soimd was the silence broken; The surest pledge of a deathless name Is the silent homage of thoughts xmspoken." Besides the pervading cheerfulness of the Long- fellow house with its many windows, one is struck with the harmony that seems to breathe from it. Harmony of line, of proportion, of color,* of atmosphere. The two rooms most interesting to the visitor are the upper o Q 2 o o K o h-l Q O O S IN CAMBRIDGE 251 room, first the poet's study, where his most joy- ous nature poems were written, and the room direct- ly beneath, which he used as a study from the time of his marriage with Miss Appleton, when, Mrs. Craigie having died, he became the happy possessor of the house. With the upper one we naturally associate especial- ly his early poems, written between 1837 and 1845; with the lower room his maturer work, when he was looking more into the lives of men and women than into nature. Yet it must have been this early keen appreciation that helped him to write so understand- ingly of scenes he had never seen. The lower room still remains the poet's study and is kept as nearly as possible as it was in his life-time. There is the large round table in the centre, upon which, lying still open, is an old-fashioned writing desk with the slant our forefathers thought so necessary for successful pen- manship. Back of this is no ordinary ink-stand, but an ebon affair of handsome design, with a little bronze statue between the bottles, that once belonged to Samuel Taylor Coleridge. This is flanked by a little jar of quill pens. A book about the Indians, one about Acadia, the "Golden Treasury of Song," an early edition of the poet's own works are among the other furnishings of the table. A bust of Shake- speare looks with peculiar benignity down upon these memorials of his brother poet, who, though lesser in genius, "warbled his native woodnotes wild" after his own fashion as spontaneously and sincerely as the greater bard. A laurel wreath frames often the poet's portrait, for friends stUl send tributes of flowers upon his birthday. Upon leaving the house the visitor 252 LONGFELLOW'S COUNTRY should always pause a moment upon the threshold and look through the archway made by two slender elms, planted at the gateway in the poet's time; at the gleaming river which wound itself so tenderly into the thought of his earlier verse. • s