II IHIIJIIWIIPII teNQFELL(M *NARRAriVE 1 POEMS ^ POWELL 13^^I ^^■Ims ■ Obs Book -p Git#tN* ccHSK^ Lipcsa, Under the editorial supervisionof LINDSAY TODD DAMON. A. B., Professor of Rhetoric iii Brown University, ADDISON— The Sir Roger De Coverley Papers— Abbott 30c BUNYAN— The Pilgrim's Prosress— Latham 30c BURKE— Speech on Conciliation with America— Denney 25c CARLYLE— Essay on Burns— Aiton 25c CHAUCER— Selections— (4REENLAW 40c COOPER— Last of the Mohicans— Lewis 40c COLERIDGE-The Ancient Mariner,) ,,_^f_ 2Sc LOWELL-Vision of Sir Launfal, ) * ^°'- ^lOO^Y aoc DE QUINCEY— Joan of Arc and Selections— Mood y 2Sc DE QUINCEY— The Flight of a Tartar Tribe— Frencu 25c DICKENS— A Tale of Two Cities— Baldwin 40c DICKENS— A Christmas Carol, etc.,— Bkoadus 30c DRYDEN— Palamoa and Arcite— ••••..• ... 2')C SHAKSPERE— MerciianVof VenVce^LovETT.'.' .*.*.*.'.'.'.*.'.*.'.'.' .'.'.'.".'." .'.'.'." .'.* 25c STEVENSON-Treasure Island— Broadtjs 25c THACKERAY— Henry Esmond— Phelps SOc TENNYSON— Gareth and Lynette, Lancelot and Elaine, The Passing of Arthur, and other Poems— Reynolds 35c TENNYSON -The Princess— OOPEL and 2Sc SCOTT, FORESMAN AND COMPANY Publishers 378-388 Wabash Avenue, CHICAGO Z\)c Xafte jEnglieb Claeeice KDITKD KY LINDSAY TODD DAMON, A. B. Froftasor of Rhetoric in Brown University El}t 3iakF lEngUfili flIlaHBtrfi THE NARRATIVE POEMS OF LONGFELLOW EDITED FOR SCHOOL USE BY JOHN RUSH POWELL Principal of the Jamea E. Yedtman High .School tit. Louis, Mo. CHICAGO SCOTT, FORESMAN & CO. 1908 Ir^' ^''^ LIBRARY of CONGRESS Two •'">Hi»^'? P T ■>i>'ecl DEC 3 1906 ^ Copy M-, It ..my CLASS 0U ^^C, ^0, Copyright, 1908 By Scott, Poiesiuau & Co. ^1 i^" Qln a fHnthrr ml}o Barrifirpft luanij luxurira anh rnmfurta nf Ufe tl^at l}tr Ban miQl|t rrrriuc ait rhuratinn. this uoUtmp ifl affrrtinnatplij iuHrrtbriJ hi \}tr S'nit. PREFACE The narrative poems of Longfellow are marked by simplicity of style and substance combined with a high degree of narrative skill — qualities which make them eminently adapted to use in the earlier years of the high school course. It has therefore seemed worth while to bring together in one volume all of Longfellow's narra- tive poems. The notes are intended to explain the text wherever it would not be clear without the aid of the numerous reference-books which only a large library is likely to possess, and to direct the attention of the stu- dent to the material on which Longfellow based these poems. An extensive study of "sources" so-called is not necessary or even advisable in high school work. On the other hand, a reader's understanding of Evangeline, for example, is certainly increased by knowing the facts out of which the poem sprang; and in the case of Hia- watha, much of the poem is unintelligible without a con- siderable acquaintance with the legendary background asainst which it is limned. Nor is it economical or wise to set school-boys hunting hither and yon for the isolated facts on which comprehension of the text so often de- pends. It has therefore seemed to the editor best to supply a liberal body of apparatus and to trust to the teacher to use this material wisely. 9 10 Narrative Poems of Longfellow The editor desires to acknowledge his debt to the Standard Library Edition of the poet's works and to Samuel Longfellow's Life of Longfellow, both published by Houghton, Mifflin and Company. The quotations from the poet's diary and letters, when not otherwise acknowl- edged, are made from the last mentioned work. Various school editions of Longfellow's poems have been con- sulted, but the notes of this edition have been drawn wholly from the original sources of Longfellow's material or from standard works of reference, such as the Century Dictionary. The editor acknowledges the courtesy extended him })y the management of the Saint Louis Mercantile Library through the Librarian, Mr. William L. R. Gifford. His thanks are especially due Miss May Simonds, Reference Librarian, for material aid in making available the re- sources of that library. Mr. Charles B. Goddard, instructor in English in the Yeatman High School, Saint Louis, has assisted the editor no little in the revision of the proof as well as by valu- able suggestions as to the arrangement of the material in the introductions. John Rush Powell. Saint Louis, October, 1908. TABLE OF CONTENTS Introduction I. Longfellow, the Man and the Poet 13 IL Chronological Outline 31 in. Bibliography 34 Text of the Narrative Poems with Introductions I. Introduction to the Ballads 36 The SkeletoxN in Armor 40 The Wreck of the Hesperus 44 II. Introduction to Evangeline 48 Evangeline: A Tale of Acadie 50 III. Introduction to Hiawatha 105 The Song of Hiawatha 118 IV. Introduction to Miles Standisii 250 The Courtship of Miles Standish 256 V. Introduction to the Tales of a Way- side Inn 293 Tales of a Wayside Inn 298 Notes to the Poems 387 11 LONGFELLOW, THE MAN AND THE POET L Biographical Henry Wadsworth Longfellow was born at Portland, INIaine, February 27, 1807, descended on his mother's side from John Alden and Priscilla. The Ed"* r° Longfellows had been known in New Eng- land from the latter part of the seven- teenth century. From both sides he inherited a scrupulous integrity, in which were blended the best traits of Pilgrim and Puritan. His youth was spent in Portland in a home of books and music. After attending school for some years at the Portland Academy, where, we are told, his conduct was **very correct and amiable," he found him- self ready for college at the age of fourteen. He entered Bowdoin College at Brunswick, Maine, of which his father was a trustee. The young student was fortunate in his friends and classmates, two of whom, Nathaniel Hawthorne and J. S. C. Abbot, were also destined to become widely known in the world of letters. He graduated second in rank in the class of 1825, highly esteemed by the faculty and his fellow-students. That the choice of a profession weighed heavily upon him during his last year in college, is shown by the corre- spondence between him and his father. T^ , . Stephen Longfellow intended his son for Profession i the law, deeming that career the open sesame to respectability and position, if not to financial 13 14 Narrative Poems of Longfellow success; but the tastes of the youth were in another direc- tion. In a letter to his father, dated December 5, 1824, we hear his plea: **I take this early opportunity to write you, because I wish to follow fully your inclination with regard to the profession I am to pursue when I leave college. For my part I have already hinted to you what would best please me. I want to spend a year at Cambridge for the purpose of reading history and of becoming familiar with the best authors of polite literature; whilst at the same time I can be acquiring a knowledge of the Italian language, without an acquaintance with which I shall be shut out from one of the most beautiful departments of letters. The French I mean to understand pretty thoroughly before I leave college. After leaving Cambridge I would attach myself to some literary periodical publication, by which I could maintain myself and still enjoy the advantages of reading. Now, I do not think that there is anything visionary or chimerical in my plan thus far. The fact is — and I will not disguise it in the least, for I think I ought not — the fact is, I most eagerly aspire after future eminence in literature; my whole soul burns most ardently for it, and every earthly thought centres in it. There may be something visionary in this, but I flatter myself that I have prudence enough to keep my enthusiasm from defeating its own object by too great haste. Surely there was never a better oppor- tunity offered for the exertion of literary talent in our own country than is now offered. *'To be sure most of our literary men thus far have not been professedly so until they have studied and entered the practice of Theology, Law, or Medicine, But this is evidently lost time. I do believe that we ought to pay Longfellow, the Man and the Poet 15 more attention to tlie opinion of philosophers, that 'noth- ing but Nature can quahfy a man for Knowledge.' "Whether Nature has given me any capacity for knowl- edge or not, she has at any rate given me a very strong predilection for literary pursuits, and I am almost con- fident in believing that, if I can ever rise in this world, it must be by the exercise of my talent in the wide field of literatui-e. With such a belief, I must say that I am un- willing to engage in the study of law. "Here, then, seems to be the starting point: and I think it best for me to float into the world upon that tide and in that channel which will the soonest bring me to my destined port, and not to struggle against both wind and tide, and, by attempting what is impossible, lose every- thing." ^ That Longfellow should turn instinctively to literature was not strange, considering the indications of his youth both at Portland and at Brunswick. Youthful poems of his, such as ''The Fight at Lovell's Pond," had found their way to the local newspaper in Portland before he entered college, and while in Bowdoin he frequently con- tributed verses to the periodicals of the day. The United States Litemnj Gazette published in all seventeen of these poems, five of which the poet later deemed worthy of saving, placing them in his first volume under the heading, Earlier Poems. Longfellow's entrance into the field of letters was by way of the professor's chair. Following the example of Harvard, Bowdoin established in 1825 a chair of modern languages. The selection of a professor was a serious 16 Narrative Poems of Longfellow matter to the Board of Trustees, and it was with great difficulty that suitable candidates could be found. At length their choice fell upon Longfellow, then just graduat- ing from Bowdoin, whose scholarship in language had made a profound impression upon the Board during the public oral examinations for graduation. The appoint- ment carried with it the suggestion that he spend some time in Europe in preparation for his new work. The next year (1826) found him in France, where he spent his first six months abroad. From there he went to Spain, Italy, and Germany in leisurely p succession, absorbing the languages so thoroughly that he could read, write, and speak them with almost the ease of a native. Moreover, he drank deep at every source of culture, — literature, art, tradition, — and came back with a broadened horizon such as only travel can give. He ended his three years* stay in Europe with a brief visit to England, and returned to America in the autumn of 1829, eager to take up his work of teaching those languages he had just acquired under such favorable circumstances. Assuming the duties of his position in the autumn of 1829, he began his long career as teacher and author. His lectures showed at once the wide ^ „ J • knowledge and liberal culture he had at Bowdoin . , ? , i . , pit. gamed through his study oi the r^uro- pean languages and literatures. He not only had to or- ganize his department, but also to make his text -books and Longfellow, the Ma72 and the Poet 17 collect books for a library. His first serious authorship was devoted to the compilation and translation of text- books and the writing of articles on the languages and literatures he was teaching. This five years' earnest teaching and study gave him more than local reputation, attracting the notice of the Harvard authorities, who, in 1834, invited him to succeed George Ticknor in the Smith Professorship of Belles Lettrcs at Harvard. The chair to which he was appointed included practically the same subjects as his professorship at Bowdoin. He re- signed his position at Bowdoin in the spring of 1835, and, accompanied by his wife, whom he had married in 1831, he made his second trip to Europe for purposes of study. In the winter of 1835, at Rotterdam, i\Irs. Longfellow died. He lessened his sorrow by deep study. The record of this year and a half of study and travel may be read in the prose romance Hyperion, just as his first trip may be traced in the similar Outre Mer. In the autumn of 183G he returned to America to take up his duties at Harvard. During his long connection The Harvard with Harvard College, his work was earn- Professorship, est, inspiring, sympathetic, and scholarly 1 836- 1 854 He drew his students into a close per- sonal relation with him, making them feel that he was not only a scholar and a teacher, but also their friend, with the result that he was the best loved teacher at Harvard. During those busy years as active head of the depart- 18 Narrative Poems of Longfellow | J ment of modern languages, his fame was spreading rap- ' idly in the world of letters. Shortly after the publication ! of Hyperion in 1839, there appeared, in the same year, a little volume. Voices of the Niqht, con- ; "Voices of ... ... j Th N" ht" taming nine new poems in addition to ^ those of his earlier poems that he deemed' ; worthy of preservation. This book is Longfellow's first ' collection of poems, purposely postponed until after he had \ gained experience through translation and prose writing ' The volume was received with instant favor. Such poems ; as "Hymn to the Night," "A Psalm of Life," '^The : Reaper and the Flowers," ** Footsteps of Angels," "The \ Beleaguered City," and "Midnight Mass for the Dying I Year," are poems of high rank among his works, pos- sessing no small measure of the seriousness, simplicity, j and beauty that characterize his later work. j Ballads and Other Poems, published in 1841, including , the well-known "Skeleton in Armor," "The Wreck of the j Hesperus," "The Rainy Day," " Maiden- | "^^"^^'^''^„ hood," and "Excelsior," confirmed the ' Other Poems" . ^ ^ , n promise given by the poet s nrst volume, j and hidicated clearly a marked growth of power. | The agitation over the slavery question, prominent , during the years 1840-1860, reached even Longfellow's quiet study. He shared with other j " oems on writers of the period a strong anti- ! slavery spirit, but his Poems on Slavery, ^ appearing in 1842, cannot be classed with Whittier's ' Longfellow, the Alan and the Poet 19 or Lowell's on the same subject. Few in number and tame in spirit, they indicate merely a scholar's disap- proval of an existing evil, rather than an attitude of strong opposition held by a man active in reforms. The volumes that follov/ed in the next four years, The Spanish Student in 1843, The Poets and Poetry of Europe edited and published in 1845, "The Spanish Student" ^nd The Belfnj of Bruges and "Poets and Poetry of Europe" ^,, j^ . -lOir i „^, ^ ,j, .^ Other Poems m 184(), show "The Belfry of Bruges and Other Poems" better than any other of his works the extent to which his poetry owes its origin to his scholarly knowledge of the old-world spirit and literature. Several of the lyrics in the last mentioned volume, however, such as "The Bridge," "The Day is Done," and "The Old Clock on the Stairs," reflect the personal tone of his earlier poems. Evangeline: A Tale of Acadie, published in 1847, marked an epoch in the poet's literary career. Prior to the writing of Evangeline, literature "Evangeline" seems to have been with him a scholar's avocation; henceforth it was to be his vocation. He had reached the age of forty, and in the full maturity of his powers, he wrote a poem which, because of its theme, its scope, its extent and character, stamped him as a distinctively American poet. The instant success of the poem determined for him that his future career should not be divided between literature and the profes- 20 Narrative Poems of Longfellow sor's chair, but that it should be concerned wholly with literature. During the remaining years of his professorship, we find him constantly . rebelling against the tyranny of college routine and desiring freedom for writing. Retirement Accordingly, in 1854, he resigned the chair made famous by the three who have filled it, — George Ticknor, Henry Wadsworth Longfellow, and James Russell Lowell. In 1855, the year following his retirement, appeared The Song of Hiawatha. This was followed by TJie Courtship "The Song of ^/ ^'^'^^c^ Standish in 1858. Both are Hiawatha" narratives of considerable extent and im- "The Courtship of portance, and show the poet's wide range Miles Standish" ^^ subject-matter and his versatility of manner. The famous old Craigie House on Brattle Street, where the poet had taken rooms upon his first coming to Cam- bridge, had come into his possession ^ . . „ after his second marriac;e, to Frances Craigie House . . Elizabeth Appleton in 1843, and here, surrounded by family and friends, the poet spent the best years of his life in the quiet pursuits of literature, — reading, absorbing, writing. The record of this part of his life is best read in the long list of works produced during these years. Always busy, he was never too busy to devote much time to his family and the host of friends who besieged him in season and out. His hospitality knew LongfelUw, the Man and the Poet 21 no bounds; he was constantly entertaining strangers of distinction and passing guests, as well as his inmost circle of friends, and Craigie House became a synonym for hos- pitality. His circle of friends was great in more than one sense, for it included some of America's most famous men, among whom may be mentioned Ticknor, Fields, Felton, Sumner, Holmes, Child, Curtis, and others. Mrs. Long- fellow, the sweet and graceful hostess, contributed her share to the charming social atmosphere that surrounded the poet in these years of leisurely work and joy. Into the happiness of his quiet domestic life a dreadful calamity fell suddenly like a bolt from the clearest sky. In July, ISGl, his wife was horribly o burned while engaged in sealing some packages containing curls of her little daughters. Her death, as well as the manner of it, was a dreadful shock to the poet, but he bore his grief with the calmness characteristic of a great soul. AVhat he suffered the rest of his life may be felt from reading the random notes in his journal, and occasional references in his poems, particularly his Sonnet, "The Cross of Snow," writ- ten eighteen years afterwards. In the long, sleepless watches of the night, A gentle face — the face of one long dead — Looks at me from the wall, where round its head The night-lamp casts a halo of pale light. Here in this room she died; and soul more white Never through martyrdom of fire was led To its repose; nor can in books be read The legend of a life more benedight 22 Narrative Poems of Longfellow There is a mountain in the distant West That, sun-defying, in its deep ravines Displays a cross of snow upon its side. Such is the cross I wear upon my breast These eighteen years, through all the changing scenes And seasons, changeless since the day she died. Though shadowed by this sorrow, he did not allow him- self to be crushed by it, but with calm energy resumed his life among his books. He continued his regular con- tributions to the "Atlantic Monthly"; in 18G3 appeared "Tales of a ^^^ ^^'^* P^^^ ^^ Tales of a Wayside Inn, Wayside Inn" the l)est part of that series ; and his Trans- ■ "Translation of the lation of Daniels Divine Comedy, one of Divine Comedy j^j^ jQost ambitious and most successful accomplishments, was begun and completed during the years 1865-1870. During his last visit to Europe, in 1868, in company with his daughters, he was welcomed everywhere and greeted with an enthusiasm akin to love. The universities of Oxford and Cambridge conferred Last Years their highest honorary degrees upon him ; he was received by the Queen; he met and learned to know his great English literary contempo- raries. And he received his honors with the modesty characteristic of the man. He returned home the next year, and took up the old life at Craigie House. In the last decade of his life he wrote or completed what he considered his best works, among which should be mentioned The Hanrjincj of the Longfellow, the Man and the Poet 23 Crane, A Book of Sonnets, and the trilogy of the Christus, including The Divine Tragedy, The Golden Legend, and The New England Tragedies. For the celebration of the fiftieth anniversary of his graduation from Bowdoin Col- lege, he wrote "Morituri Salutamus," a stirring message on the opportunities of age. In 1881 his health began to fail, and in 1882 the end came quickly. The accompaniments of old age, 'honor, love, and troops of friends,' were his, and his life ended in a calm joy of completeness. He died March 24, 1882. II. Critical Longfellow may well be called America's most popular poet. Popularity is by no means the final test of a writer's greatness, but here the test has a peculiar Popularity fitness, for it is as the poet of the peoj^le that the author of **A Psalm of Life," "The Village Blacksmith," ''Evangeline," and "The Courtship of Miles Standish, " must be judged. The chief sources of Longfellow's popularity are to be found in his simple thoughts and in his easy and graceful style. He chose no puzzling themes; he had no philo- sophical message to deliver; he preferred the simple, even what might be called the common-place themes of nature, translated in terms of human sentiment. In the "Pre- lude," which he prefixed to his first collection of poems, 24 Narrative Poems of Longfellow 1 Voices of the Nig Jit, the young poet clearly recognized his field of poetry and the sources of his inspiration : i Learn, that henceforth thy song shall be, ', Not mountains capped with snow, i Nor forests sounding like the sea, j Nor rivers flowing ceaselessly, j Where the woodlands bend to see j The bending heavens below. i There is a forest where the din ' Of iron branches sounds! i A mighty river roars between, And whosoever looks therein ^ Sees the heavens all black with sin, Sees not its depths, nor bounds. Athwart the swinging branches cast. Soft rays of sunshine pour; Then comes the fearful wintry blast; Our hopes, like withered leaves, fall fast; PalHd lips say, 'It is past! We can return no more! ' Look, then, into thine heart, and write! Yes, into Life's deep stream! All forms of sorrow and delight, All solemn Voices of the Night, That can soothe thee, or affright, — Be these henceforth thy theme. This implied promise to make himself a poet of the heart, he held throughout his career, and from the first he showed a style eminently fitted to his themes, — a style simple, clear, and beautiful. It adorned the common- Longfellow, the Man and the Poet 25 place and raised prosaic material into the realms of the imagination. The result is that simplicity which has given him the titles, "Fireside Poet," Simplicity *' Children's Poet," " Poet of the People." and Sincerity We may call it a limitation, but the limits are as broad as the two continents, and extend to w^herever hearts are touched and sentiments aroused. For simplicity implies sincerity, and no poet was ever more obviously sincere than Longfellow. lie never wrote for the purpose of making an effect. His verse is the language of one heart speaking to another. No one knew better than he *'the grand old masters" and *'the bards sublime," and their "mighty thoughts that sug- gested life's endless toil and endeavor;" but it was the "humbler poet whose songs gushed from his heart" that soothed and satisfied him. And like these humbler poets he gained his place through characteristics discerned more by the feelings than by means of the principles of criticism. It is in his shorter poems that Longfellow's personality best shows itself. These poems are chiefly lyrical, and therefore afford opportunity for frank self- Lyrics expression. In "The Bridge," "Foot- steps of Angels," "The Day is Done," "Resignation," "The Two Angels," "My Lost Youth," "The Cross of Snow," and many others, the personal tone is so marked that the poems may justly be called verse meditations. "The Village Blacksmith" and "The Old 26 Narrative Poems of Longfellow Clock on the Stairs," though the themes are general in their application, have j^i the local and personal touch. In "The Builders" we feel that the poet is in the lines, not only encouraging us to climb to higher levels but in- cluding himself as well in the exhortation. Let us do our work as well, Both the unseen and the seen; Make the house, where Gods may dwell, Beautiful, entire, and clean. Else our hves are incomplete, Standing in these walls of Time, Broken stairways, where the feet Stumble as they seek to climb. Build to-day, then, strong and sure. With a firm and ample base; And ascending and secure Shall to-morrow find its place. Thus alone can we attain To those turrets, where the eye Sees the world as one vast plain, And one boundless reach of sky. His lyrics are characterized by a wholesome moralizing; the sentiments, in spite of what harsh criticism might call their common-placeness, are inspiring and helpful. The sonnets are among his best lyrical work, and, judged by any standard, rank with the best in any literature. Though Longfellow's personality is best shown in the Longfellow, the Man and the Poet 27 lyrics, the narrative poems constitute perhaps his most considerable achievement. If we include Narratives his Translation of Dante's Divine Com- edy, more than half his work is narrative. The narratives brought together in the present volume represent his best poetic work. They cover a wide scope, including as they do, the ballads with their characteristic sweep, the more slowly-moving romance, the humorous sketch of Colonial life, the long legends in epic style, and the simple metrical tales. But they have other merits than variety and scope. It is the business of a narra- tive to tell a story. The demands made by the reader are simple but more or less exacting: the plot must move forward with ease and directness; the descriptive parts must not be thrown in merely for the purpose of giving vivid pictures, but must form an integral part of the story; and lastly, the characters must not be mere animated abstractions, but must live and act as persons would natur- ally act in the given situations. Longfellow knew well the demands that would be made upon his narratives, and he satisfied them with the charm of a master of the art. The Skeleton in Armor, Evangeline, The Courtship of Miles Standish, and the Tales of a Wayside Inn, have enriched our literature with some of the best narratives in the English language. Longfellow was least happy in his dramatic works. They are, as a class, far below the standard of his other poems. *'The Spanish Student," his first attempt at 28 Narrative Poems of Longfellow drama may be classed with his best works in this form, "The Golden Legend" and ''Michael Angelo." The tril- ogy of Christiis, in which he finally com- Dramas bined "The Divine Tragedy," "The Golden Legend," and "The New England Tragedies," represents his most ambitious dramatic work. The parts are of varying merit, "The Golden Legend" being the only part which he brought to adequate develop- ment. In general, Longfellow's works, even those on nature, have the flavor of the library. As with his own Student Longfellow's ^^^ ^^^^ Talcs of a Wayside Inn, his in- Place in spiration was the culture that came from Literature a wide acquaintance with books. Steeped in the spirit of old-world legend and song, he enriched our literature with a cosmopolitan literary culture. Ob- serve the significance of these titles, — "The Beleaguered City," "The Belfry of Bruges," "Nuremburg," "To an Old Danish Song-Book," "Walter von der Vogel- weid," "King Witlaf's Drinking Horn," "Gaspar Be- cerra," "Tegner's Drapa," "The Blind Girl of Castel- Cuille;" and note his many translations from the Spanish, the German, the Danish, the French, and the Anglo-Saxon. This world-wide interest accounts for his remarkable versatility. It likewise exposed him to the criticism that he was a "smooth-throated mocking bird warbling foreign melodies." Other critics brought forth graver charges of plagiarism, founded on his well-known i Longfellow, the Man and the Poet 29 habit of assimilating what others had written and giving it forth in a new and different form. Knowing that what he did was perfectly honorable, he neither answered his critics nor sought to hide the sources of his inspiration. Longfellow was not a poet of marked originality or, indeed, of great poetic insight ; he did not explore the depths or reach the heights of imaginative fancy; the spark of genius akin to madness never touched his pen. But his work has its own obvious merits. He was a natural singer, essentially a melodist. Ahvays calm, serene, dignified, imbued with a love of all things beautiful, versed in the lore of the Past, and actuated by a never failing human sympathy, he touched the harp and sang with such tender- ness that All the many sounds of nature Borrowed sweetness from his singing; All the hearts of men were softened By the pathos of his music; For he sang of peace and freedom, Sang of beauty, love, and longing; Sang of death, and hfe undying In the Islands of the Blessed, In the kingdom of Ponemah, In the land of the Hereafter. Though Longfellow is conceded to be America's most popular poet, there is a tendency among his critics to underestimate his real worth. They complain that he has not the poetic fire of Byron or Keats; that he has no mes- 30 Narrative Poems of Longfellow sa"ge such as Tennyson or Browning had; that he lacks the depth and passion of his own American contemporaries. So be it; but hke the prophet of old, in looking for the wind and the earthquake and the fire, they neglect the still small voice. Moreover, the debt we owe to Longfellow no one can gainsay. We may outgrow our youthful fondness for the poet who first taught us to love poetry; we may even venture to criticize harshly the works which, in spite of faults, memory still holds dear; but we should not forget to be grateful for his wholesome influence in the forma- tive stage of our literary taste. To regard Longfellow as a poet of the first order is to confuse literary values; but to scorn his merits and to depreciate his work because it is merely simple and tender and beautiful, is to be guilty of a Pharisaical pedantry akin to ignorance. In his works, as in his life, he was the gentle Longfellow, — and gentle- ness is one of the elements of true greatness. CHRONOLOGICAL OUTLL\E ' Biographical 1807. February 27. Born at Portland, Maine. 1816-1822. At school in Portland. 1822. Entered Bowdoin College, Brunswick, Maine. 1825. Graduated with degree of B. A. 1825. Elected Professor of Modern Languages at Bow- doin. 1826. June,-1829, August. Travelled in Europe, studying modern European languages. 1829. September. Assumed professorial duties at Bowdoin. 1831. September. Married to Mary Storer Potter. 1834. December. Elected Smith Professor of Modern Languages at Harvard. 1835. April-1836, December. Travelled in Europe. 1835. November 29. Wife died at Rotterdam, Holland. 1836. December. Assumed professorial duties at Harvard. 1842. Autumn. Travelled for health in Europe. 1843. July 13. Married Frances Elizabeth Appleton. 1854. Resigned professorship at Harvard for active literary life. 1861. July 9. Mrs. Longfellow burned to death. 1868-1869. Travelled in Europe. 1868. June 16. Honorary degree, LL.D., from Cam- bridge, England. 31 32 Narrative Poems of Longfellow ' 1869. July 27. Honorary degree, D. C. L. from Oxford. \ 1882. March 24. Died at his home in Cambridge, Massa- chusetts. March 26. Buried in Mount Auburn Cemetery, I Cambridge. Literary 1821-1826. Newspaper poems. i 1830. Translation of L'Homond's French Grammar. j 1831-1840. Contributions to the "North American Re- \ view." I 1832. (In French) Syllabus de la Grammaire Italienne j 1833. Coplas de Manrique. ; 1835. Outre Mer, (2 volumes). • ' 1839. Hyperion, (2 volumes). ' 1839. Voices of the Night. ] 1841. Ballads and Other Poems. 1842. Poems on Slavery. [ 1843. The Spanish Student. ! 1845. Poets and Poetry of Europe (Edited). 1846. The Belfry of Bruges and Other Poems. ! 1847. Evangeline: A Tale of Acadie. ! 1849. Kavanagh— A Tale. j 1850. The Seaside and the Fireside. ; 1851. The Golden Legend. i I 1855. The Song of Hiawatha. j 1857-1876. Contributions to the "Atlantic Monthly." .^ 1858. The Courtship of Miles Standish. Chronological Outline 33 1863. Tales of a ^Vavside Inn, Part I. 1867. FIower-de-Luce. 1867-1870. Translation of Dante's Divine Comedy, (3 volumes). 1868. The New England Tragedies. 1872. Christus, including The Divine Tragedy, The Golden Legend, The New England Tragedies. 1872. Three Books of Song. 1873. Aftermath. 1874. The Hanging of the Crane. 1875. The Masque of Pandora. 1876-1879. Poems of Places, (Edited, in 31 volumes). 1877. Poems of the "Old South," (with Holmes, Whittier, and others). 1878. Keramos. 1880. Ultima Thule. Posthumous. 1882. In the Harbor. 1884. Michael Angelo. BIBLIOGRAPHY Editions The only complete editions of the works of Longfellow are published by Houghton, Mifflin and Company, Boston. They arc: Standard Library Edition, Complete Poetical and Prose Works, eleven volumes. Cambridge Edition, Complete Poetical Works, one volume. Household Edition, Poetical Works excluding Divina Commedia, one volume. Biography and Criticism The best life of Longfellow is that written by his brother, Samuel Longfellow, containing extracts from his journal and letters, published by Houghton, Mifflin and Company, three volumes. Other books on Longfellow are : Higginson's Henry Wads worth Longfellow, in the "American Men of Letters" series. Robertson's Henry Wadsworth Longfellow, in the "Great Writers" series. Carpenter's Longfellow, in the "Beacon Biographies." Norton's Memoir and Autobiographical Poems. Gannett's Studies in Longfellow. 34 Bibliography 35 The following books contain chapters on Longfellow, critical accounts, etc.: Newcomer's American Literature. Stedman's Poets of America. Curtis's Literary and Social Essays. Higginson's Old Cambridge. Stoddard's Poets' Homes. Richardson's American Literature. Scudder's Men and Letters. Howells's Literary Friends and Acquaintances. Lang's Letters on Literature. Whipple's Essays and Reviews. Mrs. Fields's Authors and Friends. Winter's Old Shrines and Ivy. Wendell's Literary Llistory of America. INTRODUCTION TO THE BALLADS The volume of 1841, Ballads and Other Poems, is in striking contrast with the sentimental musings of the poet's first published volume of poems, a as an Voices of the Night, and indeed struck a Other Poems" /• i p i i ^ - . , jg.j note which tor depth and mtensity he rarely equalled. *'The Skeleton in Armor" shows well the poet's happy faculty of seizing upon a slight suggestion and working it out with the fertile inventiveness of the "The Skeleton true poet. In a note appended to the in Armor" volume of 1841, the poet gives an inter- esting account of the origin of this poem. "This Ballad was suggested to me while riding on the sea-shore at Newport. A year or two previous a skeleton had been dug up at Fall River, clad in broken and corroded armor; and the idea occurred to me of connecting it with the Round Tower at Newport, generally known hitherto as the Old Windmill, though novv^ claimed by the Danes as a work of their early ancestors. Professor Rafn, in the M ^moires de la Socieie Roy ale des Antiquaires du Nord, for 1838-1839, says:— " 'There is no mistaking in this instance the style in which the more ancient stone edifices of the North were con- structed, — the style which belongs to the Roman or Ante- Gothic architecture, and which, especially after the time of Charlemagne, diffused itself from Italy over the whole of 3G Introduction to the Ballads 37 the West and North of Europe, where it continued to predominate until the close of the twelfth century, — that style which some authors have, from one of its most striking characteristics, called the round arch style, the same which in England is denominated Saxon and sometimes Norman architecture. ** 'On the ancient structure in Newport there are no orna- ments remaining, which might possibly have served to guide us in assigning the probable date of its erection. That no vestige whatever is found of the pointed arch, nor any approximation to it, is indicative of an earlier rather than of a later period. From such characteristics as remain, however, we can scarcely form any other inference than one, in which I am persuaded that all who are familiar with Old-Northern architecture will concur, that this BUILDING W^AS ERECTED AT A PERIOD DECIDEDLY NOT LATER THAN THE TW^ELFTH CENTURY. This remark applies, of course, to the original building only, and not to the alterations that it subsequently received; for there are several such alterations in the upper part of the building which cannot be mistaken, and which were most likely occasioned by its being adapted in modern times to various uses; for example, as the substructure of a windmill, and latterly as a hay magazine. To the same times may be referred the windows, the fireplace, and the apertures made above the columns. That this building could not have been erected for a windmill, is what an architect will easily discern.' "I will not enter into a discussion of the point. It is sufficiently well established for the purpose of a ballad ; though doubtless many a citizen of Newport, who has passed his days within sight of the Round Tower, will be ready to exclaim, with Sancho: 'God bless me! did I not warn you to have a care of what you were doing, for that 38 Narrative Poems of Longfellow it was nothing but a windmill; and nobody could mistake it, but one who had the like in his head.' " Whether or not there is any connection between the Tower and they Norse explorers, of America matters little; at any rate, **The Skeleton in Armor" is notable among modern ballads. The subject-matter is strikingly ro- mantic, and the general tone of the poem is characteristic of the far-away land of the North. In its onward sweep and stirring meter, it has a moving power little inferior to that of Drayton's ''Agincourt." A letter of the poet's addressed to Mr. Charles Lanman gives his own account of the circum- -., TT „ stances under which the second ballad was written. Cambridge, November 24, 1871. My dear Sir, — Last night I had the pleasure of receiving your friendly letter and the beautiful pictures that came with it, and I thank you cordially for the welcome gift and the kind remembrance that prompted it. They are both very interesting to me; particularly the Reef of Norman's Woe. What you say of the ballad is also very gratifying, and induces me to send you in return a bit of autobiog- raphy. Looking over a journal for 1839, a few days ago, I found the following entries: — "December 17. — News of shipwrecks, horrible, on the coast. Forty bodies washed ashore near Gloucester. One woman lashed to a piece of wreck. There is a reef called Norman's Woe, where many of these took place. Among Introduction to the Ballads 39 others the schooner Hesperus. Also, the Seaflower, on Black Rock. I >vill write a ballad on this. "December 30. — Wrote last evening a notice of Allston's poems, after which sat till 1 o'clock by the fire, smoking; when suddenly it came into my head to write the Ballad of the Schooner Hesperus, which I accordingly did. Then went to bed, but could not sleep. New thoughts were running in my mind, and I got up to add them to the Ballad. It was 3 by the clock." All this is of no importance but to myself. However, I like sometimes to recall the circumstances under which a poem w^as written, and as you express a liking for this one it may perhaps interest you to know why and when and how it came into existence. I had quite forgotten about its first publication; but I find a letter from Park Benjamin, dated January 7, 1840, beginning (you will recognize his style) as follows: — ''Your ballad. The Wreck of The Hesperus, is grand. Inclosed are twenty-five dollars (the sum you mentioned) for it, paid by the proprietors of "The New World," in which glorious paper it will resplendently coruscate on Saturday next." Pardon this gossip, and believe me, with renewed thanks, yours faithfully, Henry W. Longfellow. The meter employed in "The Wreck of the Hesperus" is the regular ballad-stanza, i. e., a stanza, of four iambic lines tetrameter and trimeter alternating, the second and fourth lines rhyming. Though it lacks the sweep of "The Skeleton in Armor," the poem remains a favorite because of its human interest and ballad-like simplicity. BALLADS THE SKELETON IN ARMOR "Speak! speak! thou fearful guest! Who, with thy hollow breast Still in rude armor drest, Comest to daunt me! 5 Wrapt not in Eastern balms, But with thy fleshless palms Stretched, as if asking alms. Why dost thou haunt me?" Then, from those cavernous eyes 10 Pale flashes seemed to rise, As when the Northern skies Gleam in December; And, like the water's flow Under December's snow, 15 Came a dull voice of woe From the heart's chamber. "I was a Viking old! H My deeds, though manifold, No Skald in song has told, 20 No Saga taught thee! Take heed, that in thy verse Thou dost the tale rehearse. Else dread a dead man's curse; For this I sought thee. 25 "Far in the Northern Land, By the wild Baltic's strand, I, with my childish hand. Tamed the gerfalcon; And, with my skates fast-bound, 30 Skimmed the half-frozen Sound, That the poor whimpering hound Trembled to walk on. 40 The Skeleton in Armor 41 "Oft to his frozen lair Tracked I the grisly bear, 35 While from my path the hare Fled like a shadow; Oft through the forest dark Followed the were-wolf's bark, Until the soaring lark 40 Sang from the meadow. "But when I older grew, Joining a corsair's crew, O'er the dark sea I flew With the marauders. 45 Wild was the life we led; Many the souls that sped. Many the hearts that bled, By our stern orders. " Many a wassail-bout 50 Wore the long Winter out; Often our midnight shout Set the cocks crowing, As we the Berserk's tale Measured in cups of ale, 55 . Draining the oaken pail, Filled to o'erflowing. "Once as I told in glee Tales of the stormy sea, Soft eyes did gaze on me, 60 Burning yet tender; And as the white stars shine On the dark Norway pine. On that dark heart of mine Fell their soft splendor. 65 "I wooed the blue-eyed maid, Yielding, yet half afraid. And in the forest's shade Our vows were plighted. Under its loosened vest 70 Fluttered her little breast, 42 Narrative Poems of Longfellow \ Like birds within their nest By the hawk frighted. | "Bright in her father's hall ^ Shields gleamed upon the wall, i 75 Loud sang the minstrels all, ] Chanting his glory; ' When of old Hildebrand I asked his daughter's hand, ' Mute did the minstrels stand 80 To hear my story. , "While the brown ale he quaffed, Loud then the champion laughed, And as the wind-gusts waft The sea-foam brightly, | 85 So the loud laugh of scorn, Out of those lips unshorn, , From the deep drinking-horn | Blew the foam lightly. "She was a Prince's child, i 90 I but a Viking wild, ' 1 And though she blushed and smiled, I was discarded! ' Should not the dove so white i Follow the sea-mew's flight, 95 Why did they leave that night ! Her nest unguarded? i "Scarce had I put to sea, Bearing the maid with me, : Fairest of all was she ; 100 Among the Norsemen! When on the white sea-strand, | Waving his armed hand, J Saw we old Hildebrand, ! With twenty horsemen. I 105 "Then launched they to the blast, | Bent like a reed each mast, 1 The Skeleton in Armor 43 Yet we were gaining fast, When the wind failed us; And with a sudden flaw 110 Came round the gusty Skaw, So that our foe we saw Laugh as he hailed us. " And as to catch the gale Round veered the flapping sail, 115 ^ Death! was the helmsman's hail Death without quarter! Mid-ships with iron keel Struck we her ribs of steel; Down her black hulk did reel 120 Through the black water! "As with his wings aslant, Sails the fierce cormorant. Seeking some rocky haunt, With his prey laden, 125 So toward the open main, Beating to sea again. Through the wild hurricane. Bore I the maiden. "Three weeks we westward bore, 130 And when the storm was o'er. Cloud-like we saw the shore Stretching to leeward; There for my lady's bower Built I the lofty tower, 135 Which, to this very hour. Stands looking seaward. "There lived we many years; Time dried the maiden's tears; She had forgot her fears, 140 She was a mother; Death closed her mild blue eyes, Under that tower she lies; Ne'er shall the sun arise On such another! 44 Narrative Poems of Longfellow 145 "Still grew my bosom then, Still as a stagnant fen! Hateful to me were men, The sunlight hateful. In the vast forest here, 150 Clad in my warlike gear. Fell I upon my spear, O, death was grateful 1 "Thus, seamed with many scars Bursting these prison bars, 155 Up to its native stars My soul ascended! There from the flowing bowl Deep drinks the warrior's soul, Skoal! to the Northland! skoal!" 160 — ^Thus the talc ended. THE WRECK OF THE HESPERUS It was the schooner Hesperus, That sailed the wintry sea; And the skipper had taken his little daughter, To bear him company. 5 Blue were her eyes as the fairy-flax, Her cheeks like the dawn of day. And her bosom white as the hawthorn buds, That ope in the month of May. The skipper he stood beside the helm, 10 His pipe was in his mouth, And he watched how the veering flaw did blow The smoke now West, now South. Then up and spake an old Sail6r, Had sailed the Spanish Main, 15 "I pray thee, put into yonder port, For I fear a hurricane. The Wreck of the Hesperus 45 "Last night, the moon had a golden ring, And to-night no moon we see!" The skipper, he blew a whiff from his pipe, 20 And a scornful laugh laughed he. Colder and louder blew the wind, A gale from the Northeast; The snow fell hissing in the brine, And the billows frothed like yeast. 25 Down came the storm, and smote amain. The vessel in its strength; She shuddered and paused, like a frighted steed, Then leaped her cable's length. "Come hither! come hither! my Httle daughter, 30 And do not tremble so; For I can weather the roughest gale, That ever wind did blow." He wrapped her warm in his seaman's coat Against the stinging blast; 35 He cut a rope from a broken spar, And bound her to the mast. "O father! I hear the church-bells ring, O say, what may it be?" " 'T is a fog-bell on a rock-bound coast!" — 40 And he steered for the open sea. "O father! I hear the sound of guns, O say, what may it be?" "Some ship in distress, that cannot live In such an angry sea!" 45 "O father! I see a gleaming light, O say, what may it be?" But the father answered never a word, A frozen corpse was he. Lashed to the helm, all stiff and stark, 50 With his face turned to the skies, 46 Narrative Poems of Longfellow The lantern gleamed through the gleaming snow On his fixed and glassy eyes. Then the maiden clasped her hands and prayed That saved she might be; 55 And she thought of Christ, who stilled the wave, On the Lake of Galilee. And fast through the midnight dark and drear, Through the whistling sleet and snow. Like a sheeted ghost, the vessel swept 60 Towards the reef of Norman's Woe. And ever the fitful gusts between, A sound came from the land; It was the sound of the trampling surf, On the rocks and the hard sea-sand. 65 The breakers were right beneath her bows, She drifted a dreary wreck, And a whooping billow swept the crew Like icicles from her deck. She struck where the white and fleecy waves 70 Looked soft as carded wool. But the cruel rocks, they gored her side Like the horns of an angry bull. Her rattling shrouds, all sheathed in ice, With the masts went by the board; 75 Like a vessel of glass, she stove and sank, Ho! ho! the breakers roared! At daybreak on the bleak sea-beach, A fisherman stood aghast. To see the form of a maiden fair, 80 Lashed close to a drifting mast. The salt sea was frozen on her breast, The salt tears in her eyes ; And he saw her hair, like the brown sea-weed, On the billows fall and rise. The Wreck of iJic Hesperus 47 85 Such was the wreck of the Hesperus, In the midnight and the snow! Christ save us all from a death like this, On the reef of Norman's Woel INTRODUCTION TO EVANGELINE: A TALE OF ACADIE The circumstances attending the writing of Evangeline are heightened in interest because they bring into relation two of the most interesting names in , ?5 American Hterature, — Hawthorne and of Theme ' Longfellow, The poet's college class- mate and life-long friend always felt something of a god- father's interest in the poem : the first review of the poem was by Hawthorne in a Salem paper, and in a personal letter to Longfellow he said that he had read the poem ''with more pleasure than it would be decorous to ex- press." Longfellow's reply is interesting: "... Still more do I thank you for resigning to me that legend of Acady. This success I owe entirely to you, for being will- ing to forego the pleasure of writing a prose tale which many people would have taken for poetry, that I might write a poem which many people take for prose." Hawthorne did in fact know of the legend before I^ong- fellow. In the former's American Note-Books we read as follows: "H. L. C. heard from a French Canadian a story of a young couple in Acadie. On their marriage-day all the men of the province were summoned to assemble in the church to hear a proclamation. When assembled, they 48 • Introduction to Evangeline 49 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 Eng- land all her life-time, 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." "H. L. C." was the Reverend H. L. Conolly. One day at a dinner at Longfellow's house he recounted the story as he had heard it from one of his parishioners, and told the poet that he had been urging Hawthorne, then present, to write a romance on that theme, but that the material was not such as to appeal to him. '*If you do not care for it, let me have it," said Longfellow. Entries in his diary late in 1845 show that work had begun on the poem. "November 28, 1845. Set about Gabrielle, my idyl in hexameters, in earnest. ** December 7. I know not what name to give to my new poem. Shall it be Gabrielle, or Celestine, or Evangeline? " The beginning of the story takes us back to the later years of the great struggle between France and England for supremacy in India and in the New <. . World. Nova Scotia, formerly called by the French Acadie, had been ceded by France to England by the Peace of Utrecht, 1713, but the inhabitants of the peninsula, French farmers and fishermen, were not required to take the oath of allegiance to the English crown. The English government's control 50 Narrative Poems of Longfellow over them was only nominal, and for forty years they were treated as neutrals. In 1749, the English planted a colony at Halifax on the opposite side of the peninsula from Grand Pre. The jealousy which soon arose between the two factions was only natural, for the French settlers were still French in sympathy both by blood and by religion and the vagueness of boundaries left by the terms of the Peace of Aix-la-Chapelle, 1748, precipitated trouble between the French and English settlers. In the consequent struggle, the Acadians, although neutrals, suffered quite as much as their French brethren of the mainland. How to treat the Acadians was a difficult problem for the English Governor of the Province and the Lieutenant- Colonel in charge of the New England *! ^* troops that had been dispatched there to Acadiaus protect the English interests. The Eng- lish settlers desired the Acadians' fertile lands; and moved by the differences in race and religion hoped for their expulsion; but to require their removal to French Canada would only strengthen the hands of the enemy. Accordingly, it was secretly decided by the au- thorities that the Acadians should be removed from the coimtry and distributed among the English Colonies to the southward. The pretexts for such a course were these : the Acadians had refused to take the oath of allegiance; although they had affected the character of neutrals, in reality "they had furnished the French and Indians with intelligence, quarter, provisions, and assistance in annoy- Introduction to Evangeline 51 ing the Government of the Province;" and finally, three hundred of them had actually been found in arms at the capture of Fort Beau Sejour. The execution of the sentence required cunning and subtle severity. The duty, allotted to the New England forces, was undertaken by Lieutenant-Colonel John Wins- low and Captain Alexander Murray. A proclamation worded in ambiguous but peremptory language,^ was issued to the several districts, in response to which on Sep- tember 5, 1755, four hundred and eighteen men assem- bled in the Church at Grand Pre to hear "his Majesty's intentions." In a speech,^ the Colonel, with some pre- tense of humanity and with much severity, announced the plan of removal. As prisoners, the Acadian men were guarded in the church by soldiers for four days, and on September 10, accompanied by all the other inhabitants, they were marched to the shore and placed on board the transports. In the confusion and excitement, although care was exercised to see that families should be kept together, husbands and wives and children were often in different vessels, and, in more than one case, members of families never saw each other again. The colonies re- ceiving the exiles were Massachusetts, Connecticut, New- York, Pennsylvania, Maryland, Virginia, North Carolina, and Georgia. In their vain efforts to return to Acadia, many of the exiles wandered throughout the country. *See note on line 239 of Evangeline, p. 391. *See note on lines 432-441 of Evangeline, p. 393. 52 Narrative Poems of Lojigfellow And thus was carried out by the EngKsh government this exile *' without example in story," — an act, wholly unnecessary, that must forever remain a blot in the his- tory of the nation that caused it. Evangeline is neither a history nor a book of travels, but there is so much about it that is both historical and ffeoffraphical, that the sources of the The Poet's , ! . ., .^. poet's material are worthy of attention. Authorities ^ ■{ Part I. follows closely Haliburton's His- torical and Statistical Account oj Nova Scotia and Abbe Raynal's account, in French, of the life in Acadia. The poetical descriptions in the first part of the poem are only a little more highly colored than the French Abbe's prose account. The poet was never in Nova Scotia, but he suc- ceeded in picturing the scenes in such a way that travellers pronounce them very accurate. With reference to the sources and suggestions, Longfellow's own words are interesting. In his diary of 1846, two entries occur which throw some light on the descriptive parts of Evangeline's wanderings in Part II. ''December 17 I see a diorama of the Missis- sippi advertised. This comes very a propos. The river comes to me instead of my going to the river; and as it is to flow through the pages of the poem, I look upon this as a special benediction." "December 19. Went to see Banvard's moving dio- rama of the Mississippi. One seems to be sailing down the great stream, and sees the boats and sand-banks crested Introduction to Evangeline 53 with Cottonwood, and the bayous by moonlight. Three miles of canvas, and a great deal of merit." The scene of the closing incident w^as based on a rem- iniscence of a visit to Philadelphia which he afterwards gave to a Philadelphia journalist. **Iwas passing down Spruce Street one day toward my hotel, after a w^alk, when my attention was attracted to a large building with beautiful trees about it, inside of a high inclosure. 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 poor-house, and the burial in an old Catholic grave-yard not far away, which I found by chance in another of my walks." Goethe's Hermann unci Dorothea has often been called the model of Evangeline, but it is doubtful if such a rela- "Hennannund ^^^^ ^^^ ^^ established between the two Dorothea" — poems. Both poems, to be sure, are "Evangeline" not based on true stories of an exile growing an Imitation ^^^ ^f poHtical and religious differences, and both poems have a love story as the centre of interest; but in their working out, they are wholly different, and lead to different conclusions. The two poems are in the same meter, and it is not at all unUkely that a reading of Her- mann und Dorothea might have suggested the meter and a few obvious similarities; but Evangeline is too original 54 Narrative Poems of Longfellow in its treatment of the theme, too consistently local, to call it an imitation of the great German poem. The meter of Evangeline is the dactylic hexameter, first essayed by the poet in his translation of Tegner's Children oj the Lord's Supper, and after- The Meter wards used as the verse medium for The Courtship of Miles Standish and Eliza- hsth. The English hexameter is not the same as the classical hexameter of Homer and Vergil. In both Greek and Latin the metrical pronunciation is based on verse accent depending upon the quantity of vowels, rather than upon the customary pronunciation of the words as in Eng- lish. But no one with a musical ear can doubt the music of Longfellow's hexameter and its fitness to the senti- mental, melancholy atmosphere of the poem. Dr. Holmes's praise of the meter is not too high: "From the first line of the poem, from its first words, we read as we would float down a broad and placid river, murmuring softly against its banks, heaven over it, and the glory of the unspoiled wilderness around. 'This is the forest primeval.' The words are already as familiar as yirjVLv detSe Bed, or Arma virumque cano. The hexameter has been often criticized, but I do not believe any other measure could have told that lovely story with such effect as we feel when carried along the tranquil current of these brimming, slow-moving, soul-satisfying Introduction to Evangeline 55 lines. Imagine for one moment a story like this minced into octosyllabics. The poet knows better than his critics the length of step which best fits his muse." It is not difficult to call Evangeline the best of Long- fellow's narrative poems. Beauty, sentiment, pathos, — these are the elements found blended in p . all his best poetry; and in none of his poems are they present in a higher de- gree than in Evangeline. "There are flaws and petty fancies and homely passages in Evangeline,'' writes Sted- man; **but this one poem, thus far the flower of Ameri- can idyls, known ^in all lands .... — accept it as the poet left it, the mark of our advance at that time in the art of song, — his own favorite, of which he justly might be fond, since his people loved it with him, and him al- ways for its sake." ^ 'Poets of America. EVANGELINE A TALE OF ACADIE This is the forest primeval. The murmuring pines and the hemlocks, Bearded with moss, and in garments green, indistinct in the twilight. Stand like Druids of eld, with voices sad and prophetic, Stand like harpers hoar, with beards that rest on their bosoms. 6 Loud from its rocky caverns, the deep-voiced neighboring ocean Speaks, and in accents disconsolate answers the wail of the forest. This is the forest primeval; but where are the hearts that be- neath it Leaped like the roe, when he hears in the woodland the voice of the huntsman? AVhere is the thatch-roofed village, the home of Acadian far- mers, — 10 Men whose lives glided on like rivers that water the woodlands, Darkened by shadows of earth, but reflecting an image of heaven? Waste are those pleasant farms, and the farmers forever de- parted! Scattered like dust and leaves, when the mighty blasts of Octo- ber Seize them, and whirl them aloft, and sprinkle them far o'er the ocean. 15 Naught but tradition remains of the beautiful village of Grand- Pre. Ye who believe in affection that hopes, and endures, and is patient, Ye who believe in the beauty and strength of woman's devotion, List to the mournful tradition still sung by the pines of the forest ; List to a Tale of Love in Acadie, home of the happy. 56 Evangeline 57 Part the First I 20 In the Acadian land, on the shores of tlie Basin of Minas, Distant, sechided, still, the little village of CIrand-Pre Lay in the fruitful valley. Vast meadows strc'tehed to the east- ward, Giving the Village its name, and pasture to (locks without num- ber. Dikes, that the hands of the farmers had raised with labor in- cessant, 25 Shut out the turbulent tides; but at stated seasons the flood- gates Opened, and welcomed the sea to wander at will o'er the meadows. West and south there were fields of flax, and orchards and corn- fields Spreading afar and unfenced o'er the plain; and away to the northward Blomidon rose, and the forests old, and aloft on the mountains 30 Sea-fogs pitched their tents, and mists from the mighty Atlantic Looked on the happy valley, but ne'er from their station de- scended. There, in the midst of its farms, reposed the AcacUan village. Strongly built were the houses, with frames of oak and of chest- nut, Such as the peasants of Normandy built in the reign of the Henries. 35 Thatched were the roofs, with dormer-windows; and gables projecting Over the basement below protected and shaded the doorway. There in the tranquil evenings of summer, when brightly the sunset Lighted the village street, and gilded the vanes on the chimneys, Matrons and maidens sat in snow-white caps and in kirtles 40 Scarlet and blue and green, with distaffs spinning the golden Flax for the gossiping looms, whose noisy shuttles within doors Mingled their sound with the whir of the wheels and the songs of the maidens. Solemnly down the street came the parish priest, and the chil- dren 58 Narrative Poems of Longfellow Paused in their play to kiss the hand he extended to bless them. 45 Reverend walked he among them; and up rose matrons and maidens, Hailing his slow approach with words of affectionate welcome. Then came the laborers home from the field, and serenely the sun sank Down to his rest, and twilight prevailed. Anon from the belfry Softly the Angelus sounded, and over the roofs.of the village 50 Columns of pale-blue smoke, like clouds of incense ascending, Rose from a hundred hearths, the homes of peace and content- ment. Thus dwelt together in love these simple Acadian farmers, — Dwelt in the love of God and of man. Alike were they free from Fear, that reigns with the tyrant, and envy, the vice of republics. 55 Neither locks had they to their doors, nor bars to their windows; But their dwellings were open ,as day and the hearts of the owners; There the richest was poor, and the poorest lived in abundance. Somewhat apart from the village, and nearer the Basin of Minas, Benedict Bellefontaine, the wealthiest farmer of Grand-Prc, bO Dwelt on his goodly acres; and with him, directing his house- hold. Gentle Evangeline lived, his child, and the pride of the village, Stalworth and stately in form was the man of seventy winters; Hearty and hale was he, an oak that is covered with snow-flakes; White as the snow were his locks, and his cheeks as brown as the oak-leaves. 65 Fair was she to behold, that maiden of seventeen summers. Black were her eyes as the berry that grows on the thorn by the wayside. Black, yet how softly they gleamed beneath the brown shade of her tresses! Sweet was her breath as the breath of kine that feed in the meadows. When in the harvest heat she bore to the reapers at noontide 70 Flagons of home-brewed ale, ah! fair in sooth was the maiden. Fairer was she when, on Sunday morn, while the bell from its turret Sprinkled with holy sounds the air, as the priest with his hyssop Sprinkles the congregation, and scatters blessings upon them, Evangeline 59 « Down the long street she passed, with her chayjlet of beads and her missal. 75 Wearing her Norman cap, and her kirtle of blue, and the ear- rings ■ Brought in the olden time from France, and since, a$ an heir- loom. Handed down from mother to child, through long generations. But a celestial brightness — a more ethereal beauty — Shone on her face and encircled her form, when, after confession, 80 Homeward serenely she walked with God's benediction upon her. AVhen she had passed, it seemed like the ceasing of exquisite music. Firmly builded with rafters of oak, the house of the farmer Stood on the side of a hill, commanding the sea, and a shady Sycamore grew by the door, with a woodbine wreathing around it. 85 Rudely carved was the porch, with seats beneath; and a footpath Led through an orchard wide, and disappeared in the meadow. Under the sycamore-tree were hives overhung by a penthouse, Such as the traveller sees in regions remote by the road-side. Built o'er a box for the poor, or the blessed image of Mary. 90 Farther down, on the slope of the hill, was the well with its moss- grown Bucket, fastened with iron, and near it a trough for the horses. Shielding the house from storms, on the north, were the barns and the farmyard. There stood the broad-wheeled wains and the antique ploughs and the harrows; There were the folds for the sheep; and there, in his feathered seraglio, 95 Strutted the lordly turkey, and crowed the cock, with the self- same Voice that in ages of old had startled the penitent Peter. Bursting with hay were the barns, themselves a village. In each one Far o'er the gable projected a roof of thatch; and a staircase. Under the sheltering eaves, led up to the odorous corn-loft. 00 There too the dove-cot stood, with its meek and innocent in- mates Murmuring ever of love; while above in the variant breezes Numberless noisy weathercocks rattled and sang of mutation. 60 Narrative Poems of Longjelloio •m Thus, at peace with God and the world, the farmer of Grand- Pre Lived on his sunny farm, and EvangeHne governed his house- hold. 105 Many a youth, as he knelt in the church and opened his missal, Fixed his eyes upon her, as the saint of his deepest devotion; Happy was he who might touch her hand or the hem of her gar- ment! Many a suitor came to her door, by the darkness befriended, And as he knocked and waited to hear the sound of her footsteps, 1 1 Knew not which beat the louder, his heart or the knocker of iron„ Or at the joyous feast of the Patron Saint of the village. Bolder grew, and pressed her hand in the dance as he whispered Hurried words of love, that seemed a part of the music. But, among all who came, Young Gabriel only was welcome; 1 1 5 Gabriel Lajeunesse, the son of Basil the blacksmith, Who was a mighty man in the village, and honored of all men; For since the birth of time, throughout all ages and nations, Has the craft of the smith been held in repute by the people. Basil was Benedict's friend. Their children from earliest child- hood 120 Grew up together as brother and sister; and Father Felician, Priest and pedagogue both in the village, had taught them their letters Out of the selfsame book, with the hymns of the church and the plain-song. But when the hymn was sung, and the daily lesson completed, Swiftly they hurried away to the forge of Basil the blacksmith, 1 25 There at the door they stood, with wondering eyes to behold him Take in his leathern lap the hoof of the horse as a plaything. Nailing the shoe in its place; while near him the tire of the cart- wheel Lay like a fiery snake, coiled round in a circle of cinders. Oft on autumnal eves, when without in the gathering darkness 130 Bursting with light seemed the smithy, through every cranny and crevice, Warm by the forge within they watched the laboring bellows. And as its panting ceased, and the sparks expired in the ashes. Merrily laughed, and said they were nuns going into the chapel. Oft on sledges in winter, as swift as the swoop of the eagle, ] 35 Down the hill-side bounding, they glided away o'er the meadow. Oft in the barns they climbed to the populous nests on the rafters, Evangeline 61 Seeking with eager eyes that wondrous stone, which the swallow Brings from the shore of the sea to restore the sight of its flede- ■ ings; Lucky was he who found that stone in the nest of the swallow 1 140 Thus passed a few swift years, and they no longer were children. He was a valiant youth, and his face, like the face of the morning, Gladdened the earth with its light, and ripened thought into action. She was a woman now, with the heart and hopes of a woman. "Sunshine of Saint Eulalie " was she called; for that was the sunshine 145 Which, as the farmers believed, would load their orchards with apples; She, too, would bring to her husband's liousc delight and abun- dance. Filling it full of love, and the ruddy faces of children. II Now^ had the season returned, when the nights grow colder and longer, And the retreating sun the sign of the Scorpion enters. 150 Birds of passage sailed through the leaden air from the ice- bound. Desolate northern bays to the shores of tropical islands. Harvests were gathered in; and wild with the winds of Septem- ber Wrestled the trees of the forest, as Jacob of old with the angel. All the signs foretold a winter long and inclement. 155 Bees, with prophetic instinct of want had hoarded their honey Till the hives overflowed; and the Indian hunters asserted Cold would the winter be, for thick was the fur of the foxes. Such was the advent of autumn. Then followed that beautiful season. Called by the pious Acadian peasants the Summer of All-Saints! 160 Filled was the air with a dreamy and magical light; and the landscape Lay as if new-created in all the freshness of childhood. Peace seemed to reign upon earth, and the restless heart of the ocean Was for a moment consoled. All sounds were in harmony blended. 62 Narrative Poems of Longfellow Voices of children at play, the crowing of cocks in the farm- yards, 165 Whir of wings in the drowsy air, and the cooing of pigeons, All were subdued and low as the murmurs of love, and the great sun Looked with the eye of love through the golden vapors around him; While arrayed in its robes of russet and scarlet and yellow, Bright with the sheen of the dew, each glittering tree of the forest 170 Flashed like the plane-tree the Persian adorned with mantles and jewels. Now recommenced the reign of rest and affection and stillness. Day with its burden and heat had departed, and twilight de- scending Brought back the evening star to the sky, and the herds to the homestead. Pawing the ground they came, and resting their necks on each other, 175 And with their nostrils distended inhaling the freshness of even- ing. Foremost, bearing the bell, Evangeline's beautiful heifer. Proud of her snow-white hide, and the ribbon that waved from her collar, Quietly paced and slow, as if conscious of human affection. Then came the shepherd back with his bleating flocks from the seaside, 180 Where was their favorite pasture. Behind them followed the watch-dog, Patient, full of importance, and grand in the pride of his instinct, Walking from side to side with a lordly air, and superbly Waving his bushy tail, and urging forward the stragglers; Regent of flocks was he when the shepherd slept; their protector, 185 When from the forest at night, through the starry silence the wolves howled. Late, with the rising moon, returned the wains from the marshes, Laden with briny hay, that filled the air with its odor. Cheerily neighed the steeds, with dew on their manes and their fetlocks, While aloft on their shoulders the wooden and ponderous saddles, 190 Painted with brilliant dyes, and adorned with tassels of crimson, Evangeline 63 Nodded in bright array, like hollyhocks heavy with blossoms. Patiently stood the cows meanwhile, and yielded their udders Unto the milkmaid's hand; whilst loud and in regular cadence Into the sounding pails the foaming streamlets descended. 195 Lowing of cattle and peals of laughter were heard in the farm- yard, Echoed back by the barns. Anon they sank into stillness; Heavily closed, with a jarring sound, the valves of the barn- doors, Rattled the wooden bars, and all for a season was silent. In-doors, warm by the wide-mouthed fireplace, idly the farmer 200 Sat in his elbow-chair, and watched how the flames and the smokewreaths Struggled together like foes in a burning city. Behind him, Nodding and mocking along the wall, with gestures fantastic, Darted his own huge shadow, and vanished away into darkness. Faces, clumsily carved in oak, on the back of his arm-chair 205 Laughed in the flickering light, and the pewter plates on the dresser Caught and reflected the flame, as shields of armies the sun- shine. Fragments of song the old man sang, and carols of Christmas, Such as at home, in the olden time, his fathers before him Sang in their Norman orchards and bright Burgundian vine- yards. 210 Close at her father's side was the gentle Evangeline seated, Spinning flax for the loom, that stood in the corner behind her. Silent awhile were its treadles, at rest was its diligent shuttle. While the monotonous drone of the wheel, like the drone of a bag-pipe. Followed the old man's song, and united the fragments together. 215 As in a church, when the chant of the choir at intervals ceases. Footfalls are heard in the aisles, or words of the priest at the altar. So, in each p*use of the song, with measured motion the clock clicked. Thus as they sat, there were footsteps heard, and, suddenly lifted. Sounded the wooden latch, and the door swung back on its hinges. 64 Narrative Poems of Longfellow 220 Benedict knew by the hob-nailed shoes it was Basil the black- smith, And by her beating heart Evangeline knew who was with him. "Welcome!" the farmer exclaimed, as their footsteps paused on the threshold, "Welcome, Basil, my friend! Come, take thy place on the settle Close by the chimney-side, which is always empty without thee; 225 Take from the shelf overhead thy pipe and the box of tobacco; Never so much thyself art thou as when through the curling Smoke of the pipe or the forge thy friendly and jovial face gleams Round and red as the harvest moon through the mist of the marshes." Then, with a smile of content, thus answered Basil the black- smith, 230 Taking with easy air the accustomed seat by the fireside: — " Benedict Bellefontaine, thou hast ever thy jest and thy ballad I Ever in cheerfullcst mood art thou, when others are filled with Gloomy forebodings of ill, and see only ruin before them. Happy art thou, as if every day thou hadst picked up a horse- shoe." 235 Pausing a moment, to take the pipe that Evangeline brought him. And with a coal from the embers had lighted, he slowly con- tinued: — "Four days now are passed since the English ships at their anchors Ride in the Gaspereau's mouth, with their cannon pointed against us. What their design may be is unknown; but all are commanded 240 On the morrow to meet in the church, where his Majesty's mandate Will be proclaimed as law in the land. Alas! in the meantime Many surmises of evil alarm the hearts of the people." Then made answer the farmer : — " Perhaps some friendlier pur- pose Brings these ships to our shores. Perhaps tWfe harvests in Eng- 245 land By untimely rains or untimelier heat have been blighted. And from our bursting barns they would feed their cattle and children." "Not so thinketh the folk in the village," said, warmly, the blacksmith, Evangeline 65 Shaking his head, as in doubt; then, heaving a sigh, he con- tinued: — " Louisburg is not forgotten, nor Beau Sejour, nor Port Royal. Many already have fled to the forest, and lurk on its outskirts, Waiting with anxious hearts the dubious fate of to-morrow. Arms have been taken from us, and warlike weapons of all kinds; Nothing is left but the blacksmith's sledge and the scythe of the mower." Then with a pleasant smile made answer the jovial farmer: — "Safer are we unarmed, in the midst of our flocks and our corn- fields, Safer within these peaceful dikes, besieged by the ocean. Than our fathers in forts, besieged ])y the enemy's cannon. Fear no evil, my friend, and to-night may no shadow of sorrow Fall on this house and hearth; for this is the night of the con- tract. Built are the house and the barn. The merry lads of the village Strongly have built them and well; and, breaking the glebe round about them. Filled the barn with hay, and the house with food for a twelve- month. Rene Leblanc will be here anon, with his papers and inkhorn. Shall we not then be glad, and rejoice in the joy of our chil- dren?" As apart by the window she stood, with her hand in her lover's, Blushing Evangehne heard the words that her father had spoken, And as they died on his lips the worthy notary entered. Ill Bent like a laboring oar, that toils in the surf of the ocean, Bent, but not broken, by age was the form of the notary public; Shocks of yellow hair, like the silken floss of the maize, hung Over his shoulders; his forehead was high; and glasses with horn bows Sat astride on his nose, with a look of wisdom supernal. Father of twenty children was he, and more than a hundred Children's children rode on his knee, and heard his great watch tick. 66 Narrative Poems of Longfellow 275 Four long years in the times of the war had he languished a captive, Suffering much in an old French fort as the friend of the Eng- lish. Now, though warier grown, without all guile or suspicion, Ripe in wisdom was he, but patient, and simple, and childlike. He was beloved by all, and most of all by the children; 280 For he told them tales of the Loupgarou in the forest, And of the goblin that came in the night to water the horses, And of the white Letiche, the ghost of a child who unchristened Died, and was doomed to haunt unseen the chambers of chil- dren; And how on Christmas eve the oxen talked in the stable; 285 Antl how the fever was cured by a spider shut up in a nutshell, And of the marvellous powers of four-leaved clover and horse- shoes, With whatsoever else was writ in the lore of the village. Then up rose from his seat by the fireside Basil the blacksmith. Knocked from his pipe the ashes, and slowly extending his right hand, 290 "Father Leblanc," he exclaimed, "thou hast heard the talk in the village, And, perchance, canst tell us some news of these ships and their errand." Then with modest demeanor made answer the notary public: — "Gossip enough have I heard, in sooth, yet am never the wiser; And what their errand may be I know not better than others, 295 Yet am I not of those who imagine some evil intention Brings them here, for we are at peace; and why then molest us?" "God's name! " shouted the hasty and somewhat irascible black- smith; "Must we in all things look for the how, and the why, and the wherefore? Daily injustice is done, and might is the right of the strongest! " 300 But, without heeding his warmth, continued the notary public: — "Man is unjust, but God is just; and finally justice Triumphs; and well I remember a story, that often consoled me, When as a captive I lay in the old French fort at Port Royal." This was the old man's favorite tale, and he loved to repeat it 305 When his neighbors complained that any injustice was done them Evangeline 67 "Once in an ancient city, whose name I no longer remember, Raised aloft on a column, a brazen statue of Justice Stood in the pubUc square, upholding the scales in its left hand, And in its right a sword, as an emblem that justice presided Over the laws of the land, and the hearts and homes of the people. Even the birds had built their nests in the scales of the balance, Having no fear of the sword that flashed in the sunshine above them. But in the course of time the laws of the land were corrupted; Might took the place of right, and the weak were oppressed, and the mighty Ruled with an iron rod. Then it chanced in a nobleman's pal- ace That a necklace of pearls was lost, and ere long a suspicion Fell on an orphan girl who lived as maid in the household. She, after form of trial condemned to die on the scaffold. Patiently met her doom at the foot of the statue of Justice. As to her Father in heaven her innocent spirit ascended, Lo! o'er the city a tempest rose; and the bolts of the thunder Smote the statue of bronze, and hurled in wrath from its left hand Down on the pavement below the clattering scales of the bal- ance. And in the hollow thereof was found the nest of a magpie, Into whose clay-built vv'alls the necklace of pearls was inwoven." Silenced, but not convinced, when the story was ended, the blacksmith *Stood like a man who fain would speak, but findeth no language; All his thoughts were congealed into lines on his face, as the vapors Freeze in fantastic shapes on the window-panes in the winter. Then Evangeline Hghted the brazen lamp on the table. Filled, till it overflowed, the pewter tankard with home-brewed Nut-brown ale, that was famed for its strength in the village of Grand-Pre; While from his pocket the notary drew his papers and inkhorn, Wrote with a steady hand the date and the age of the parties, Naming the dower of the bride in flocks of sheep and in cattle. Orderly all things proceeded, and duly and well were completed, 68 Narrative Poems of Longfellow And the great seal of the law was set like a sun on the margin. Then from his leather pouch the farmer threw on the table Three times the old man's fee in solid pieces of silver; 340 And the notary rising, and blessing the bride and the bridegroom Lifted aloft the tankard of ale and drank to their welfare. Wiping the foam from his lip, he solemnly bowed and departed, While in silence the others sat and mused by the fireside, Till Evangeline brought the draught-board out of its corner. 345 Soon was the game begun. In friendly contention the old men Laughed at each lucky hit, or unsuccessful manauvre. Laughed when a man was crowned, or a breach was made in the king-row. Meanwhile apart, in the twilight gloom of a window's embrasure, Sat the lovers, and whispered together, beholding the moon rise 350 Over the pallid sea and the silvery mist of the meadows. Silently one by one, in the infinite meadows of heaven, Blossomed the lovely stars, the forget-me-nots of the angels. Thus passed the evening away. Anon the bell from the belfry Rang out the hour of nine, the village curfew, and straightway 355 Rose the guests and departed; and silence reigned in the house- hold. Many a farewell word and sv/eet good-night on the door-step Lingered long in Evangeline's heart, and filled it with gladness. Carefully then were covered the embers that glowed on the hearth-stone, And on the oaken stairs resounded the tread of the farmer. 360 Soon with a soundless step the foot of Evangeline followed^ Up the staircase moved a luminous space in the darkness. Lighted less by the lamp than the shining face of the maiden. Silent she passed through the hall, and entered the door of her chamber. Simple that chamber was, with its curtains of white, and its clothes-press 365 Ample and high, on whose spacious shelves were carefully folded Linen and woollen stuffs, by the hand of Evangeline woven. This was the precious dower she would bring to her husband in marriage. Better than flocks and herds, being proofs of her skill as a house- wife. Soon she extinguished her lamp, for the mellow and radiant moonlight Evangeline 6d 370 Streamed through the windows. and lighted the room, till the heart of the maiden Swelled and obeyed its power, like the tremulous tides of the ocean. Ah! she was fair, exceeding fair to behold, as she stood with Naked snow-white feet on the gleaming floor of her chamber! Little she dreamed that below, among the trees of the orchard, 375 Waited her lover and watched for the gleam of her lamp and her shadow. Yet were her thoughts of him, and at times a feeling of sadness Passed o'er her soul, as the sailing shade of clouds in the moon- light Flitted across the floor and darkened the room for a moment. And as she gazed from the window she saw serenely the moon pass 380 Forth from the folds of a cloud, and one star follow her foot- steps. As out of Abraham's tent young Ishmael wandered with Hagar! IV Pleasantly rose next morn the sun on the village of Grand- Pre, Pleasantly gleamed in the soft, sweet air the Basin of Minas, Where the ships, with their wavering shadows, were riding at anchor. 385 Life had long been astir in the village, and clamorous labor Knocked with its hundred hands at the golden gates of the morning. Now from the country around, from the farms and the neigh- boring hamlets. Came in their holiday dresses the blithe Acadian peasants. Many a glad good-morrow and jocund laugh from the young folk 390 Made the bright air brighter, as up from the numerous meadows. Where no path could be seen but the track of wheels in the greensward, Group after group appeared, and joined, or passed on the high- way. Long ere noon, in the village all sounds of labor were silenced. 70 Narrative Poems of Longfellow Thronged were the streets with people; and noisy groups at the house-doors 395 Sat in the cheerful sun, and rejoiced and gossiped together. Every house was an inn, where all were welcomed and feasted; For with this simple people, who lived like brothers together. All things were held in common, and what one had was another's. Yet under Benedict's roof hospitality seemed more abundant: 400 For Evangeline stood among the guests of her father; Bright was her face with smiles, and words of welcome and glad- ness Fell from her beautiful lips, and blessed the cup as she gave it. Under the open sky, in the odorous air of the orchard, Stripped of its golden fruit, was spread the feast of betrothal. 405 There in the shade of the porch were the priest and the notary seated; There good Benedict sat, and sturdy Basil the blacksmith. Not far withdrawn from these, by the cider-press and the bee- hives, Michael the fiddler was placed, with the gayest of hearts and of waistcoats. Shadow and light from the leaves alternately played on his snow-white 410 Hair, as it waved in the wind; and the jolly face of the fiddler Glowed like a living coal when the ashes are blown from the embers. Gayly the old man sang to the vibrant sound of his fiddle, Tons les Bourgeois de Chartres, and Le Carillon, de Dunkerque, And anon with his wooden shoes beat time to the music. 415 Merrily, merrily whirled the wheels of the dizzying dances Under the orchard-trees and down the path to the meadows; Old folk and young together, and children mingled among them. Fairest of all the maids was Evangeline, Benedict's daughter! Noblest of all the youths was Gabriel, son of the blacksmith! 420 So passed the morning away. And lo! with a summons" sono- rous Sounded the bell from its tower, and over the meadows a drum beat. Thronged ere long was the church with men. Without, in the churchyard. Evangeline 71 Waited the women. They stood by the graves, and hung on the headstones Garlands of autumn-leaves and evergreens fresh from the forest. 425 Then came the guard from the ships, and marching proudly among them Entered the sacred portal. With loud and dissonant clangor Echoed the sound of their brazen drums from ceiling and case- ment, — Echoed a moment only, and slowly the ponderous portal Closed, and in silence the crowd awaited the will of the soldiers. 430 Then uprose their commander, and spake from the steps of the altar. Holding aloft in his hands, with its seals, the royal commission. "You are convened this day," he said, "by his Majesty's orders. Clement and kind has he been; but how you have answered his kindness. Let your own hearts reply! To my natural make and my temper 435 Painful the task is I do, which to you I know must be grievous. Yet must I bow and obey, and deliver the will of our monarch; Namely, that all your lands, and dwellings, and cattle of all kinds Forfeited be to the crown; and that you yourselves from this province Be transported to other lands. God grant you may dwell there 440 Ever as faithful subjects, a happy and peaceable people! Prisoners now I declare you; for such is his Majesty's pleasure! " As, when the air is serene in the sultry solstice of summer, Suddenly gathers a storm, and the deadly sling of the hailstones Beats down the farmer's corn in the field and shatters his win- dows, 445 Hiding the sun and strewing the ground with thatch from the house-roofs, Bellowing fly the herds, and seek to break their enclosures; So on the hearts of the people descended the words of the speaker. Silent a moment they stood in speechless wonder, and then rose Louder and ever louder a wail of sorrow and anger, 450 And, by one impulse moved, they madly rushed to the door-way. Vain was the hope of escape; and cries and fierce imprecations Rang through the house of prayer; and high o'er the heads of the others Rose, with his arms uplifted, the figure of Basil the blacksmith, 72 Narrative Poems of Longfellow As, on a stormy sea, a spar is tossed by the billows. 455 Flushed was his face and distorted with passion; and wildly he shouted : — " Down with the tyrants of England! we never have sworn them allegiance! Death to these foreign soldiers, who seize on our homes and our harvests! " More he fain would have said, but the merciless hand of a soldier Smote him upon the mouth, and dragged him down to the pave- ment. 460 In the midst of the strife and tumult of angry contention, Lo! the door of the chancel opened, and Father Felician Entered, with serious mien, and ascended the steps of the altar. Raising his reverend hand, with a gesture he awed into silence All that clamorous throng; and thus he spake to his people; 465 Deep were his tones and solemn; in accents measured and mournful Spake he, as, after the tocsin's alarum, distinctly the clock strikes. "What is this that ye do, my children? what madness has seized you? Forty years of my life have I labored among you, and taught you, Not in word alone, but in deed, to love one another ! 470 Is this the fruit of my toils, of my vigils and prayers and priva- tions? Have you so soon forgotten all lessons of love and forgiveness? This is the house of the Prince of Peace, and would you profane it Thus with violent deeds and hearts overflowing with hatred? Lo! where the crucified Christ from his cross is gazing upon you! 475 See! in those sorrowful eyes what meekness and holy compas- sion! Hark! how those lips still repeat the prayer 'O Father, forgive them!' Let us repeat that prayer in the hour when the wicked assail us. Let us repeat it now, and say, 'O Father, forgive them! ' " Few were his words of rebuke, but deep in the hearts of his people 480 Sank they, and sobs of contrition succeeded the passionate out- break; Evangeline 73 While they repeated his prayer, and said, "O Father, forgive them'/" Then came the evening service. The tapers gleamed from Fervent and deep was the voice of the priest, and the people re- sponded, , 1 . Ti,r • Not with their lips alone, but their hearts; and the Ave Maria 485 Sang they, and fell on their knees, and their souls, with devotion translated, Rose on the ardor of prayer, like Elijah ascending to heaven. Meanwhile had spread in the village the tidings of ill, and on all sides j i i i Wandered, wailing, from house to house the women and children. Long at her father's door Evangeline stood, with her right hand 490 Shielding her eyes from the level rays of the sun, that, descending, Lighted the village street with mysterious splendor, and roofed each 1 -x • Peasant's cottage with golden thatch, and emblazoned its win- Long within had been spread the snow-white cloth on the table; There stood the wheaten loaf, and the honey fragrant with wild flowers; r u i ux 495 There stood the tankard of ale, and the cheese fresh brought from the dairy; . .u r And at the head of the board the great arm-chair ot the larmer. Thus did Evangeline wait at her father's door, as the sunset Threw the long shadows of trees o'er the broad ambrosial meadows. Ah! on her spirit within a deeper shadow had fallen, 500 And from the fields of her soul a fragrance celestial ascended,— Charity, meekness, love, and hope, and forgiveness, and patience! Then, all-forgetful of self, she wandered into the village. Cheering with looks and words the disconsolate hearts of the women. As o'er the darkening fields with Hngering steps they departed, 505 Urged by their household cares, and the weary feet of their children. Down sank the great red sun, and in golden, ghmmermg vapors Veiled the Hght of his face,iike the Prophet descending from Sinai. Sweetly over the village the bell of the Angelus sounded. 7i Narrative Poems of Longfellow Meanwhile, amid the gloom, by the church Evangeline lin- gered. 610 All was silent within; and in vain at the door and the windows Stood she, and listened and looked, until, overcome by emotion "Gabriel! " cried she aloud with tremulous voice: but no answer Came from the graves of the dead, nor the gloomier grave of the . living. Slowly at length she returned to the tenantless house of her father. 515 Smouldered the fire on the hearth, on the board stood the supper untasted, Empty and drear was each room, and haunted with phantoms of terror. Sadly echoed her step on the stair and the floor of her chamber. In the dead of the night she heard the whispering rain fall Loud on the w^ithered leaves of the sycamore-tree by the win- dow. 520 Keenly the lightning flashed; and the voice of the echoing thunder Told her that God was in heaven, and governed the world he created! Then she remembered the tale she had heard of the justice of heaven; Soothed was her troubled soul, and she peacefully slumbered till morning. Four times the sun had risen and set; and now on the fifth day 525 Cheerily called the cock to the sleeping maids of the farm-house. Soon o'er the yellow fields, in silent and mournful procession, Came from the neighboring hamlets and farms the Acadian women, Driving in ponderous wains their household goods to the sea- shore. Pausing and looking back to gaze once more on their dwellings, 530 Ere they were shut from sight by the winding road and the woodland. Close at their sides their children ran, and urged on the oxen, While in their little hands they clasped .some fragments of play- things. Evangeline 75 Thus to the Gaspereau's mouth they hurried and there on the sea-beach Piled in confusion lay the household goods of the peasants. 535 All day long between the shore and the ships did the boats ply; All day long the wains came laboring down from the village. Late in the afternoon, when the sun was near to his setting, Echoing far o'er the fields came the roll of drums from the churchyard. Thither the women and children thronged. On a sudden the church-doors 540 Opened, and forth came the guard, and marching in gloomy procession Followed the long-imprisoned, but patient, Acadian farmers. Even as pilgrims, who journey afar from their homes and their country, Sing as they go, and in singing forget they are weary and way- worn, So with songs on their lips the Acadian peasants descended 545 Down from the church to the shore, amid their wives and their daughters. Foremost the young men came; and raising together their voices, Sang they with tremulous lips a chant of the Catholic Missions: — "Sacred heart of the Saviour! O inexhaustible fountain! Fill our hearts this day with strength and submission and patience! " 550 Then the old men, as they marched, and the women that stood by the way-side Joined in the sacred psalm, and the birds in the sunshine above them Mingled their notes therewith, like voices of spirits departed. Halfway down to the shore Evangeline waited in silence, Not overcome with grief, but strong in the hour of affliction, — 555 Calmly and sadly she waited, until the procession approached her. And she beheld the face of Gabriel pale with emotion. Tears then filled her eyes, and, eagerly running to meet him. Clasped she his hands, and laid her head on his shoulder, and whispered, — "Gabriel! be of good cheer! for if we love one another, 560 Nothing, in truth, can harm us, whatever mischances may hap- pen!" 76 Narrative Poems of Longfellow Smiling she spake these words; then suddenly paused, for her father Saw she slowly advancing. Alas! how changed was his aspect! Gone was the glow from his cheek, and the fire from his eye, and his footstep Heavier seemed with the weight of the heavy heart in his bosom. 565 But with a smile and a sigh, she clasped his neck and embraced him, Speaking words of endearment where words of comfort availed not. Thus to the Gaspereau's mouth moved on that mournful pro- cession. There disorder prevailed, and the tumult and stir of embark- ing. Busily plied the freighted boats; and in the confusion 570 Wives were torn from their husbands, and mothers, too late, saw their chiklren Left on the land, extending their arms, with wildest entreaties. So unto separate ships were Basil and Gabriel carried. While in despair on the shore Evangeline stood with her father. Half the task was not done when the sun went down, and the twilight 575 Deepened and darkened around; and in haste the refluent ocean Fled away from the shore, and left the line of the sand-beach Covered with waifs of the tide, with kelp and the slippery sea- weed. Farther back in the midst of the household goods and the wagons, Like to a gypsy camp, or a leaguer after a battle, 580 All escape cut off by the sea, and the sentinels near them. Lay encamped for the night the houseless Acadian farmers. Back to its nethermost caves retreated the bellowing ocean. Dragging adown the beach the rattling pebbles, and leaving Inland and far up the shore the stranded boats of the sailors. 585 Then, as the night descended, the herds returned from their pastures; Sweet was the moist still air with the odor of milk fpom their udders; Lowing they waited, and long, at the well-known bars of the farmyard, — Evangeline 77 Waited and looked in vain for the voice and the hand of the milkmaid. Silence reigned in the streets; from the church no Angelus sounded, 5 90 Rose no smoke from the roofs, and gleamed no lights from the windows. But on the shores meanwhile the evening fires had been kin- dled, Built of the drift-wood thrown on the sands from wrecks in the tempest. Round them shapes of gloom and sorrowful faces were gathered, Voices of women were heard, and of men, and the crying of children. 595 Onward from fire to fire, as from hearth to hearth in his parish, Wandered the faithful priest, consoling and blessing and cheer- ing, Like unto shipwrecked Paul on Mclita's desolate sea-shore. Thus he approached the place where Evangeline sat with her father. And in the flickering light beheld the face of the old man, 600 Haggard and- hollow and wan, and without either thought or emotion. E'en as the face of a clock from which the hands have been taken. Vainly Evangeline strove with words and caresses to cheer him, Vainly offered him food; yet he moved not, he looked not, he spake not. But, with a vacant stare, ever gazed at the flickering fire-Ught. 605 " Benedicite!" murmured the priest, in tones of compassion. More he fain would have said, but his heart was full, and his accents Faltered and paused on his lips, as the feet of a child on a threshold, Hushed by the scene he beholds, and the awful presence of sor- row. Silently, therefore, he laid his hand on the head of the maiden, 610 Raising his eyes, full of tears, to the silent stars that above them Moved on their way, unperturbed by the wrongs and sorrows of mortals Then sat he down at her side, and they wept together in silence. 78 Narrative Poems of Longfellow Suddenly rose from the south a light, as in autumn the blood- red Moon climbs the crystal walls of heaven, and o'er the horizon 615 Titan-like stretches its hundred hands upon mountain and mea- dow, Seizing the rocks and the rivers, and piling huge shadows to- gether. Broader and ever broader it gleamed on the roofs of the village. Gleamed on the sky and the sea, and the ships that lay in the roadstead. Columns of shining smoke uprose, and flashes of flame were 620 Thrust through their folds and withdrawn, like the quivering hands of a martyr. Then as the wind seized the gleeds and the burning thatch, and, uplifting. Whirled them aloft through the air, at once from a hundred housetops Started the sheeted smoke with flashes of flame intermingled. These things beheld in dismay the crowd on the shore and on shipboard. 625 Speechless at first they stood, then cried aloud in their anguish, " We shall behold no more our homes in the village of Grand- Pre! " Loud on a sudden the cocks began to crow in the farmyards. Thinking the day had dawned ; and anon the lowing of cattle Came on the evening breeze, by the barking of dogs interrupted. 630 Then rose a sound of dread, such as startles the sleeping en- campments Far in the western prairies or forests that skirt the Nebraska, When the wild horses affrighted sweep by with the speed of the whirlwind Or the loud bellowing herds of buffaloes rush to the river. Such was the sound that arose on the night, as the herds and the horses 635 Broke through their folds, and fences and madly rushed o'er the meadows. Overwhelmed with the sight, yet speechless, the priest and the maiden Gazed on the scene of terror that reddened and widened before them; Evangeline 79 And as they turned at length to speak to their silent companion, Lo! from his seat he had fallen, and stretched abroad on the sea-shore Motionless lay his form, from which the soul had departed. Slowly the priest uplifted the lifeless head, and the maiden Knelt at her father's side, and wailed aloud in her terror. Then in a swoon she sank, and lay with her head on his bosom. Through the long night she lay in deep, oblivious slumber; And when she woke from the trance, she beheld a multitude near her, Faces of friends she beheld, that were mournfully gazing upon her, Palhd, with tearful eyes, and looks of saddest compassion. Still the blaze of the burning village illumined the landscape, Reddened the sky overhead, and gleamed on the faces around her, And like the day of doom it seemed to her wavering senses. Then a familiar voice she heard,- as it said to the people, — "Let us bury him here by the sea. When a happier season Brings us again to our homes from the unknown land of our exile. Then shall his sacred dust be piously laid in the churchyartl." Such were the words of the priest. And there in haste by the seaside. Having the glare of the burning village for funeral torches. But without bell or book, they buried the farmer of (Jrand-Pre. And as the voice of the priest repeated the service of sorrow, Lo! with a mournful sound, like the voice of a vast congrega- tion. Solemnly answered the sea, and mingled its roar with the dirges. 'T was the returnmg tide, that afar from the waste of the ocean, With the first dawn of the day, came heaving and hurrying landward. Then recommenced once more the stir and noise of embarking; And with the ebb of that tide the ships sailed out of the harbor. Leaving behind them the dead on the shore, and the village in ruins. 80 Narrative Poems of Longfellow Part the Second Many a weary year had passed since the burning of Grand-Pre, When on the falhng tide the freighted vessels departed, Bearing a nation, with all its household gods, into exile, Exile without an end, and without an example in story. 670 Far asunder, on separate coasts, the Acadians landed; Scattered were they, like flakes of snow, when the wind from the northeast Strikes aslant through the fogs that darken the Banks of New- foundland. Friendless, homeless, hopeless, they wandered from city to city. From the cold lakes of the North to sultry Southern savannas, — 6 75 From the bleak shores of the sea to the lands where the Father of Waters Seizes the hills in his hands, and drags them down to the ocean. Deep in their sands to bury the scattered bones of the mammoth. Friends they sought and homes; and many, despairing, heart- broken, Asked of the earth but a grave, and no longer a friend nor a fireside. 680 Written their history stands on tablets of stone in the church- yards. Long among them was seen a maiden who waited and wandered, Lowly and meek in spirit, and patiently suffering all things. Fair was she and young; but, alas! before her extended. Dreary and vast and silent, the desert of life, with its pathway 685 Marked by the graves of those who had sorrowed and suffered before her, Passions long extinguished, and hopes long dead and abandoned, As the emigrant's way o'er the Western desert is marked by Camp-fires long consumed, and bones that bleach in the sun- shine. Something there was in her life incomplete, imperfect, unfin- ished ; 690 As if a morning of June, with all its music and sunshine, Suddenly paused in the sky, and, fading, slowly descended Into the east again, from whence it late had risen. Sometimes she lingered in towns, till, urged by the fever within her, Evangeline 81 Urged by a restless longing, the hunger and thirst of the spirit, 695 She would commence again her endless search and endeavor; Sometimes in churchyards strayed, and gazed on the crosses and tombstones, Sat by some nameless grave, and thought that perhaps in its bosom He was already at rest, and she longed to slumber beside him. Sometimes a rumor, a hearsay, an inarticulate whisper, 700 Came with its airy hand to point and beckon her forward. Sometimes she spake with those who had seen her beloved and known him. But it was long ago, in some far-off place or forgotten. "Gabriel Lajcunessc! " said they; "(), yes! we have seen him. He was with Basil the blacksmith, antl both have gone to the prairies; 705 Coureurs-des-Bois are they, and famous hunters and trappers." "Gabriel Lajeunesse!" said others; "O, yes! we have seen him. He is a Voi/ageur in the lowlands of Louisiana." Then would they say, — "Dear child! why dream and wait fur him longer? Are there not other youths as fair as Gabriel? others 710 Who have hearts as tender and true, and spirits as loyal? Here is Baptiste Leblanc, the notary's son, who has loved thee Many a tedious j'^ear; come, give him thy hand and be happy! Thou art too fair to be left to braid St. Catherine's tresses." Then would Evangeline answer, serenely but sadly, — "I cannot! 715 Whither my heart has gone, there follows my hand, and not elsewhere. For when the heart goes before, like a lamp, and illumines the pathway, Many things are made clear, that else lie hidden in darkness." And thereupon the priest, her friend and father-confessor. Said, with a smile, — " O daughter! thy God thus speaketh within thee! 720 Talk not of wasted affection, affection never was wasted; If it enrich not the heart of another, its waters, returning Back to their springs, like the rain, shall fill them full of refresh- ment; That which the fountain sends forth returns again to the foun- tain. Patience; accomplish thy labor; accomplish thy work of affec- tion! 82 Narrative Poems of Longfellow 725 Sorrow and silence are strong, and patient endurance is godlike. Therefore accomplish thy labor of love, till the heart is made godlike. Purified, strengthened, perfected, and rendered more worthy of heaven! " Cheered by the good man's words, Evangeline labored and waited. Still in her heart she heard the funeral dirge of the ocean, 730 But with its sound there was mingled a voice that whispered, "Despair not! " Thus did that poor soul wander in want and cheerless discom- fort, Bleeding, barefooted, over the shards and thorns of existence. Let me essay, O Muse! to follow the wanderer's footsteps; — Not through each devious path, each changeful year of existence; ?S5 But as a traveller follows a streamlet's course through the valley: Far from its margin at times, and seeing the gleam of its water Here and there, in some open space, and at intervals only; Then drawing nearer its banks, through sylvan glooms that conceal it, Though he behold it not, he can hear its continuous murmur; 740 Happy, at length, if he find the spot where it reaches an outlet. II It was the month of May. Far down the Beautiful River, Past the Ohio shore and past the mouth of the Wabash, Into the golden stream of the broad and swift Mississippi, Floated a cumbrous boat, that was rowed by Acadian boatmen. 745 It was a band of exiles: a raft, as it were, from the shipwrecked Nation, scattered along the coast, now floating together, Bound by the bonds of a common belief and a common misfor- tune; Men and women and children, who, guided by hope or by hear- say, Sought for their kith and their kin among the few-acred farmers 750 On the Acadian coast, and the prairies of fair Opelousas. With them Evangeline went, and her guide, the Father Felician. Onward o'er sunken sands, through a wilderness sombre with forests, Evangeline 83 Day after day they glided adown the turbulent river; Night after night, by their blazing fires, encamped on its borders. 755 Now through rushing chutes, among green islands, where plume- hke Cotton-trees nodded their shadowy crests, they swept with the current, Then emerged into broad lagoons, where silvery sand-bars Lay in the stream, and along the wimpling waves of their mar- gin, Shining with snow-white plumes, large flocks of pelicans waded. 760 Level the landscape grew, and along the shores of the river, Shaded by China-trees, in the midst of luxuriant gardens. Stood the houses of planters, with negro-cabins and dove-cots. They were approaching the region where reigns perpetual sum- mer, \Yhere through the Golden Coast, and groves of orange and citron, 765 Sweeps with majestic curve the river away to the eastward. They, too, swerved from their course, and, entering the Bayou of Plaquemine, Soon were lost in a maze of sluggish and devious waters, AVhich, like a network of steel, extended in every direction. Over their heads the towering and tenebrous boughs of the cypress 770 Met in a dusky arch, and trailing mosses in mid-air, Waved like banners that hang on the walls of ancient cathedrals. Deathlike the silence seemed, and unbroken, save by the herons Home to their roosts in the cedar-trees returning at sunset. Or by the owl, as he greeted the moon with demoniac laughter. 775 Lovely the moonlight was as it glanced and gleamed on the water. Gleamed on the columns of cypress and cedar sustaining the arches, Down through whose broken vaults it fell as through chinks in a ruin. Dreamlike, and indistinct, and strange were all things around them ; And o'er their spirits there came a feeling of wonder and sad- ness, — 780 Strange forebodings of ill, unseen and that cannot be compassed. As, at the tramp of a horse's hoof on the turf of the prairies. Far in advance are closed the leaves of the shrinking mimosa. 84 Narrative Poems of Lonyjellow So, at the hoof-beats of fate, with sad forebodings of evil, Shrinks and closes the heart, ere the stroke of doom has at- tained it. 785 But EvangeHne's heart was sustained by a vision, that faintly Floated before her eyes, and beckoned her on through the moon- hght. It was the thought of her brain that assumed the shape of a phantom. Through those shadowy aisles had Gabriel wandered before her, And every stroke of the oar now brought him nearer and nearer. 790 Then iii his place, at the prow of the boat, rose one of the oarsmen. And, as a signal sound, if others like them peradventure Sailed on those gloomy and midnight streams, blew a blast on his bugle. Wild through the dark colonnades and corridors leafy the blast rang, Breaking the seal of silence, and giving tongues to the forest. 795 Soundless above them the banners of moss just stirred to the music. Multitudinous echoes awoke and died in the distance, Over the watery floor, and beneath the reverberant branches; But not a voice replied; no answer came from the darkness; And when the echoes had ceased, like a sense of pain was the silence. 800 Then Evangeline slept; but the boatmen rowed through the midnight. Silent at times, then singing familiar Canadian boat-songs, Such as they sang of old on their own Acadian rivers. And through the night were heard the mysterious sounds of the desert. Far off, indistinct, as of wave or wind in the forest, 805 Mixed with the whoop of the crane and the roar of the grim alligator. Thus ere another noon they emerged from those shades; and before them Lay, in the golden sun, the lakes of the Atchafalaya. Water-lilies in myriads rocked on the slight undulations Made by the passing oars, and, resplendent in beauty, the lotus, 810 Lifted her golden crown above the heads of the boatmen. Evangeline 85 Faint was the air with the odorous breath of magnoHa blossoms, And with the heat of noon; and numberless sylvan islands, Fragrant and thickly embowered with blossoming hedges of roses, Near to whose shores they glided along, invited to slumber. 815 Soon by the fairest of these their weary oars were suspended. Under the boughs of Wachita willows, that grew by the margin, Safely their boat was moored; and scattered about on the green- sward. Tired with their midnight toil, the weary travellers slumbered. Over them vast and high extended the cope of a cedar. 820 Swinging from its great arms, the trumpet-flower and the grape- vine Hung their ladder of ropes aloft like the ladder of Jacob, On whose pendulous stairs the angels ascending, descending, Were the swift humming-birds, that flitted from blossom to blossom. Such was the vision Evangeline saw as she slumbered beneath it. 825 Filled was her heart with love, and the dawn of an opening heaven Lighted her soul in sleep with the glory of regions celestial. m Nearer and ever nearer, among the numberless islands. Darted a light swift boat, that sped away o'er the water, Urged on its course by the sinewy arms of hunters and trappers. 830 Northward its prow was turned, to the land of the bison and beaver. At the helm sat a youth, with countenance thoughtful and care- worn. Dark and neglected locks overshadowed his brow, and a sadness Somew^hat beyond his years on his face was legibly written. Gabriel was it, who, weary with waiting, unhappy and restless, 835 Sought in the Western wilds oblivion of self and of sorrow. ■ Swiftly they glided along, close under the lea of the island. But by the opposite bank, and behind a screen of palmettos, So that they saw not the boat, where it lay concealed in the willows, All undisturbed by the dash of their oars, and unseen, were the sleepers; 840 Angel of God was there none to awaken the slumbering maiden. Swiftly they glided away, like the shade of a cloud on the prairie. After the sound of their oars on the tholes had died in the dis- tance, 86 Narrative Poems of Longfellow As from a magic trance the sleepers awoke, and the maiden Said with a sigh to the friendly priest. — "O Father Felician! 845 Something says in my heart that near me Gabriel wanders. Is it a foolish dream, an idle and vague superstition? Or has an angel passed, and revealed the truth to my spirit?" Then, with a blush, she added, — "Alas for my credulous fancy! Unto ears like thine such words as these have no meaning."' 850 But made answer the reverend man, and he smiled as he an- swered : — "Daughter, thy words are not idle; nor arethey tome without meaning. Feeling is deep and still; and the word that floats on the surface Is as the tossing buoy, that betrays where the anchor is hidden. Therefore trust to thy heart, and to what the world calls illusions. 855 Gabriel truly is near thee; for not far away to the southward, On the banks of the Teche, are the towns of St. Maur and St. Martin. There the long-wandering bride shall be given again to her bridegroom, There the long absent pastor regain his flock and his sheepfold. Beautiful isthe land, with its prairies antl forests of fruit-trees; 860 Under the feet u garden of flowers, and the bluest of heavens Bending above, and resting its dome on the walls of the forest. They who dwell there have named it the Eden of Louisiana." And with these words of cheer they arose and continued their journey. Softly the evening came. The sun from the western horizon 865 Like a magician extended his golden wand o'er the landscape; Twinkling vapors arose; and sky and water and forest Seemed all on Are at the touch, and melted and mingled together. Hanging between two skies, a cloud with edges of silver Floated the boat, with its dripping oars, on the motionless water. 870 Filled was Evangeline's heart with inexpressible sweetness Touched by the magic spell, the sacred fountain of feeling Glowed with the light of love, as the skies and waters around her. Then from a neighboring thicket the mocking-bird, wildest of singers, Swinging aloft on a willow spray that hung o'er the water, 875 Shook from his little throat such floods of delirious music, Evangeline 87 That the whole air and the woods and the waves seemed silent to listen. Plaintive at first were the tones and sad ; then soaring to mad- ness Seemed they to follow or guide the revel of frenzied Bacchantes. Single notes were then heard, in sorrowful, low lamentation; 880 Till, having gathered them all, he flung them abroad in derision, As when, after a storm, a gust of wind through the tree-tops Shakes down the rattling rain in a crystal shower on the branches. With such a prelude as this, and hearts that throbbed with emotion. Slowly they entered the Teche, where it flows through the green Opelousas, 885 And through the amber air, above the crest of the woodland. Saw the column of smoke that arose from a neighboring dwell- ino" — Sounds of a horn they heard, and the distant lov/ing of cattle. Ill Near to the bank of the river, o'er-shadowed by oaks, from whose branches Garlands of Spanish moss and of mystic mistletoe flaunted, 890 Such as the Druids cut down with golden hatchets at Yule-tide, Stood, secluded and still, the house of the herdsman. A garden Girded it round alx)ut with a belt of luxuriant blossoms, Filling the air with fragrance. The house itself was of timbers Hewn from the cypress-tree, and carefully fitted together. 895 Large and low was the roof; and on slender columns sui)p()rted, Rose-wreathed, vine-encircled, a broad and spacious veranda, Haunt of the humming-bird and the bee, extended around it. At each end of the house, amid the flowers of the garden. Stationed the dove-cots were, as love's perpetual symbol, 900 Scenes of endless wooing, and endless contentions of rivals. Silence reigned o'er the place. The line of shadow and sunshine Ran near the tops of the trees; but the house itself was in shadow. And from its chimney-top, ascending and slowly expanding Into the evening air, a thin blue column of smoke rose. 905 In the rear of the house, from the garden gate, ran a pathway Through the great groves of oak to the skirts of the limitless prairie, 88 Narrative Poems of Longfellow Into whose sea of flowers the sun was slowly descending. Full in his track of light, like ships with shadowy canvas Hanging loose from their spars in a motionless calm in the tropics, 910 Stood a cluster of trees, with tangled cordage of grape-vines. Just where the woodlands met the flowery surf of the prairie, Mounted upon his horse, with Spanish saddle and stirrups, Sat a herdsman, arrayed in gaiters and doublet of deerskin. Broad and brown was the face that from under the Spanish sombrero 915 Gazed on the peaceful scene, with the lordly look of its master. Round about him were numberless herds of kine, that were grazing Quietly in the meadows, and breathing the vapory freshness That uprose from the river, and spread itself over the landscape. Slowly lifting the horn that hung at his side, and expanding 920 Fully his broad, deep chest, he blew a blast, that resounded Wildly and sweet and far, through the still damp air of the even- ing. Suddenly out of the grass the long white horns of the cattle Rose like flakes of foam on the adverse currents of ocean. Silent a moment they gazed, then bellowing rushed o'er the prairie, 925 And the whole mass became a cloud, a shade in the distance. Then, as the herdsman turned to the house, through the gate of the garden Saw he the forms of the priest and the maiden advancing to meet him Suddenly down from his horse he sprang in amazement, and forward Rushed with extended arms and exclamations of wonder; 930 When they beheld his face, they recognized Basil the black- smith. Hearty his welcome was, as he led his guests to the garden. There in an arbor of roses with endless question and answer Gave they vent to their hearts, and renewed their friendly em- braces, Laughing and weeping by turns, or sitting silent and thoughtful. 935 Thoughtful, for Gabriel came not; and now dark doubts and misgivings Stole o'er the maiden's heart; and Basil, somewhat embarrassed, Evangeline 89 Broke the silence and said, — "If you came by the Atchafalaya, How have you nowhere encountered my Gabriel's boat on the bayous?" Over Evangeline's face at the words of Basil a shade passed. 940 Tears came into her eyes, and she said, with a tremulous ac- cent, — "Gone? is Gabriel gone?" and, concealing her face on his shoulder, All her o'erburdened heart gave way, and she wept and lamented . Then the good Basil said, — and his voice grew blithe as he said it,— "Be of good cheer, my child; it is only to-day he departed. 945 FooHsh boy! he has left me alone with my herds and my horses. Moody and restless grown, and tired and troubled, his spirit Could no longer endure the calm of this quiet existence. Thinking ever of thee, uncertain and sorrowful ever, Ever silent, or speaking only of thee and his troubles, 950 He at length had become so tedious to men and to maidens, Tedious even to me, that at length I bethought me, and sent him Unto the town of Adayes to trade for mules with the Spaniards. Thence he will follow the Indian trails to the Ozark Mountains, Hunting for furs in the forests, on rivers trapping the beaver. 955 Therefore be of good cheer; we will follow the fugitive lover; He is not far on his way, and the Fates and the streams are against him. Up and away to-morrow, and through the red dew of the morn- ing We will follow him fast, and bring him back to his prison." Then glad voices were heard, and up from the banks of the river, 960 Borne aloft on his comrades' arms, came Michael the fiddler. Long under Basil's roof had he lived like a god on Olympus, Having no other care than dispensing music to mortals. Far renowned was he for his silver locks and his fiddle. "Long live Michael," they cried, "our brave Acadian minstrel!" 965 As they bore him aloft in triumphal procession; and straight- way Father Felician advanced Vvith Evangeline, greeting the old man Kindly and oft, and recalling the past, while Basil, enraptured, Hailed with hilarious joy his old companions and gossips, I^aughing loud and long, and enjbracing mothers and daughter?. 90 Narrative Poems of Longfellow 970 Much they marvelled to sec the wealth of the ci-devant black- smith, All his domains and his herds, and his patriarchal demeanor; Much they marvelled to hear his tales of the soil and the climate, And of the prairies, whose numberless herds were his who would take them; Each one thought in his heart, that he, too, would go and do likewise. 975 Thus they ascended the steps, and, crossing the airy veranda. Entered the hall of the house, where already the supper of Basil Waited his late return; and they rested and feasted together. Over the joyous feast the sudden darkness descended. All was silent without, and, illuming the landscape with silver, 980 Fair rose the dewy moon and the myriad stars; but within doors. Brighter than these, shone the faces of friends in the glimmering lamp'ight. Then from his station aloft, at the head of the table, the herds- man Poured forth his heart and his wine together in endless profusion Lighting his pipe, that was filled with sweet Natchitoches to- bacco, 985 Thus he spake to his guests, who listened, and smiled as they listened: — "Welcome once more, my friends, who long have been friend- less and homeless, Welcome once more to a home, that is better perchance than the old one! Here no hungry winter congeals our blood like the rivers; Here no stony ground provokes the wrath of the farmer. 990 Smoothly the ploughshare runs through the soil as a keel through the water. All the year round the orange-groves are in blossom; and grass grows More in a single night than a whole Canadian summer. Here, too, numberless herds run wild and unclaimed in the prairies; Here, too, lands may be had for the asking, and forests of timber 995 With a few blows of the axe are hewn and framed into houses. After your houses are built, and your fields are yellow with harvests, Evangeline 91 No King George of England shall drive you away from your homesteads, Burning your dweUings and barns, and steahng your farms and your cattle." Speaking these words, he blew a wrathful cloud from his nostrils, 1000 And his huge, brawny hand came thundering down on the table, So that the guests all started; and Father Felician, astounded, Suddenly paused, with a pinch of snuff halfway to his nostrils. But the brave Basil resumed, and his words were milder and gayer: — « "Only beware of the fever, my friends, beware of the fever! 1005 For it is not like that of our cold Acadian climate. Cured by wearing a spider hung round one's neck in a nutshell! " Then there were voices heard at the door, and footsteps ap- proaching Sounded upon the stairs and the floor of the breezy veranda. It was the neighboring Creoles and small Acadian planters, 1010 Who had been summoned all to the house of Basil the herdsman. Merry the meeting was of ancient comrades and neighbors: Friend clasped friend in his arms; and they who before were as strangers, Meeting in exile, became straightway as friends to each other, Drawn l)y the gentle bond of a common country, together. 1015 But in the neighboring hall a strain of music, proceeding From the accordant strings of Michael's melodious fiddle, Broke up all further speech. Away, like children delighted. All things forgotten beside, they gave themselves to the madden- ing Whirl of the dizzy dance, as it swept and swayed to the music, 1020 Dreamlike, with beaming eyes and the rush of fluttering gar- ments. Meanw^hile, apart, at the head of the hall, the priest and the herdsman Sat, conversing together of past and present and future; While Evangeline stood like one entranced, for within her Olden memories rose, and loud in the midst of the music 1025 Heard she the sound of the sea, and an irrepressible sadness Came o'er her heart, and unseen she stole forth into the garden. Beautiful was the night. Behind the black w^all of the forest, Tipping its summit with silver, arose the moon. On the river 92 Narrative Poems of Longfellow Fell here and there through the branches a tremulous gleam of the moonlight, 1030 Like the sweet thoughts of love on a darkened and devious spirit. Nearer and round about her, the manifold flowers of the garden Poured out their souls in odors, that were their prayers and con- fessions Unto the night, as it went its way, like a silent Carthusian. Fuller of fragrance than they, and as heavy with shadows and night-dews, 1035 Hung the lieart of the maiden. The calm and the magical moonlight Seemed to inundate her soul with indefinable longings, As, through the garden gate, beneath the brown shade of the oak-trees, Passed she along the path to the edge of the measureless prairie. Silent it lay, with a silvery haze uijon it, and fire-flies 1040 Gleaming and floating away in mingled and infinite numbers. Over her head the stars, the thoughts of God in the heavens. Shone on the eyes of man, who had ceased to marvel and wor- ship, Save when a blazing comet was seen on the walls of that temple, As if a hand had appeared and written upon them, "Upharsin." 1045 And the soul of the maiden, between the stars and the fire-flies, Wandered alone, and she cried, — "O Galiriel! () my beloved! Art thou so near unto me, and yet I cannot behold thee? Art thou so near unto me, and yet thy voice does not reach me? Ah! how often thy feet have trod this path to the prairie! 1050 Ah! how often thine eyes have looked on the woodlands around me! Ah! how often beneath this oak, returning from labor, Thou hast lain down to rest, and to dream of me in thy slumbers. When shall these eyes behold, these arms be folded about thee? " Loud and sudden and near the note of a whippoorwill sounded 1055 Like a flute in the woods; and anon, through the neighboring thickets. Farther and farther away it floated and dropped into silence. "Patience!" whispered the oaks from oracular caverns of dark- ness; And, from the moonlit meadow, a. sigh responded, "To-mor- row!" Evangeline 93 Bright rose the sun next day; and all the flowers of the garden 1060 Bathed his shining feet with their tears, and anointed his tresses With the dehcious balm that they bore in their vases of crystal. "Farewell!" said the priest, as he stood at the shadowy threshold; " See that you bring us the Prodigal Son from his fasting and famine, And, too, the Foolish Virgin, who slept when the bridegroom was • coming." 1065 "Farewell!" answered the maiden, and, smiling, with Basil de- scended Down to the river's brink, where the boatmen already were waiting. Thus beginning their journey with morning, and sunshine, and gladness. Swiftly they followed the flight of him who was speeding before them. Blown by the blast of fate like a dead leaf over the desert. 1070 Not that day, nor the next, nor yet the day that succeeded, Found they trace of his course, in lake or forest or river, Nor, after many days, had they found him; but vague and un- certain Rumors alone were their guides through a wild and desolate country; Till, at the little inn of the Spanish town of Adayes, 1075 Weary and worn, they alighted, and learned from the garrulous landlord. That on the day before, with horses and guides and companions, Gabriel left the village, and took the road of the prairies. IV Far in the West there lies a desert land, where the mountains Lift, through perpetual snows, their lofty and luminous sum- mits. 1080 Down from their jagged, deep ravines, where the gorge, Hke a gateway. Opens a passage rude to the wheels of the emigrant's wagon. Westward the Oregon flows and the Walleway and Ov.^yhee. Eastward, with devious course, among the Windriver Moun- tains, ♦ 94 Narrative Poems of Longfellow Through the Sweet-water Valley precipitate leaps the Nebraska; 1085 And to the South, from Fontaine-qui-bout and the Spanish sierras, Fretted with sands and rocks, and swept by the wind of the desert, Numberless torrents, with ceaseless sound, descend to the ocean, Like the great chords of a harp, in loud and solemn vibrations. Spreading between these streams are the wondrous, beautiful prairies, 1090 Billowy bays of grass ever rolling in shadow and sunshine, Bright with luxuriant clusters of roses and purple amorphas. Over them wander the buffalo herds, and the elk and the roe- buck; Over them wander the wolves, and herds of riderless horses; Fires that blast and blight, and winds that are weary with travel ; 1095 Over them wander the scattered tribes of Ishmael's children. Staining the desert with blood; and above their terrible war- trails Circles and sails aloft, on pinions majestic, the vulture, Like the implacable soul of a chieftain slaughtered in battle. By invisible stairs ascending and scaling the heavens. 1100 Here and there rise smokes from the camps of these savage marauders; Here and there rise groves from the margins of swift-running rivers; And the grim, tactiturn bear, the anchorite monk of the desert. Climbs down their dark ravines to dig for roots by the brook- side; And over all is the sky, the clear and crystalline heaven, 1 105 Like the protecting hand of God inverted above them. Into this wonderful land, at the base of the Ozark Mountains, Gabriel far had entered, with hunters and trappers behind him. Day after day, with their Indian guides, the maiden and Basil Followed his flying steps, and thought each day to o'ertake him. 1110 Sometimes they saw, or thought they saw, the smoke of his camp-fire Rise in the morning air from the distant plain, but at nightfall, When they had reached the place, they found only embers and ashes. And, though their hearts were sad at times and their bodies were weary, • 1115 Erangeline 95 Hope still glided them on, as the magic Fata Morgana Showed them her lakes of light, that retreated and vanished before them. Once, as they sat by their evening fire, there silently enterpd Into the little camp an Indian woman, whose features Wore deep traces of sorrow, and ])atience as great as her sorro\v . She was a Shawnee woman returning home to her ])eople, 11 oo From the far-off hnnting-groimds of the cruel Camanches Where her Canadian husband, a Coureur-des-Bois, had been murdered. i r • i Touched were their hearts at her story, and warmest and tnend- liest welcome , . ^ , Gave they, with words of cheer, and she sat and feasted among them , , .1 I On the buffalo-meat and the venison cooked on the embers. 1 1>5 But when their meal was done, and Basil and all his companions Worn with the long day's march and the chase of the deer and the bison, Stretched themselves on the ground, and slept v.l'.ere the (puv- ering firelight , . r i Flashed on their .swarthy cheeks, and the r forms wiai-ped up in their blankets, , , i Then at the door of Evangeline's tent .she sat • d repeated 1130 Slowlv, with .soft, low voice, and the charm of licr Indian accent. All the tale of her love, with its pleasures, and pains, and re- verses Much Evangeline wept at the tale, and to know that another Hapless heart like her own had loved and had been disappointed. Moved to the depths of her soul by pity and woman's compas- sion, ,,,«•! 1 1 35 Yet in her sorrow pleased that one who had suffered was near her. She in turn related her love and all it>? disasters. Mute with wonder the Shawnee sat, and when .she had ended Still was mute; but at length, as if a mysterious horror Passed through her brain, she spake, and repeated the tale ot the Mowis; , , , , • i 1140 Alowis, the bridegroom of snow, who won and wedded a maiden, But, when the morning came, arose and passed from the wig- wam, . , . Fading and melting away and dissolving into the sunshine, 96 Narraiive Poemfi of Longfellmv Till she beheld him no more, though she followed far into the forest. Then, in those sweet, low tones that seemed like a weird incanta- tion, 1 145 Told she the tale of the fair Lilinaii, who was wooed by a phan- tom, That, through the pines o'er her father's lodge, in the hush of the twilight, Breathed like the evening wind, and whispered love to the maiden. Till she followed his green and waving plume through the forest, And never more returned, nor was seen again by her people. 1150 Silent with wonder and strange surprise, Evangeline listened To the soft flow of her magical words, till the region around her Seemed like enchanted ground, and her swarthy guest the en- chantress. Slowly over the tops of the Ozark Mountains the moon rose. Lighting the little tent, and with a mysterious splendor 1155 Touching the sombre leaves, and embracing and filling the wood- land. With a delicious sound the brook rushed by, and the branches Swayed and sighed overhead in scarcely audible whispers. Filled with the thoughts of love was Evangeline's heart, but a secret. Subtle sense crept in of pain and indefinite terror, 1160 As the cold, poisonous snake creeps into the nest of the swallow. It was no earthly fear. A breath from the region of spirits Seemed to float in the air of night; and she felt for a moment That, like the Indian maid, she, too, was pursuing a phantom. And with this thought she slept, and the fear and the phantom had vanished. 1165 Early upon the morrow the march was resumed; and the Shawnee Said, as they journeyed along, — "On the western slope of these mountains Dwells in his little village the Black Robe chief of the Mission. Much he teaches the people, and tells them of Mary and Jesus; Loud laugh their hearts with joy, and weep with pain, as they hear him." 1 170 Then, with a sudden and secret emotion, Evangeline answered — " Let us go to the Mission, for there good tidings await us! " Evangeline 97 Thither they turned their steeds; and behind a spur of the moun- tains, Just as the sun went down, they heard a murmur of voices, And in a meadow green and broad, by the bank of a river, 1175 Saw the tents of the Christians, the tents of the Jesuit Mission. Under a towering oak, that stood in the midst of the viHage, Knelt the Black Robe chief Avitli his children. A crucifix fast- ened High on the trunk of the tree, and overshadowed by grape-vines, Looked with its agonizeil face on the multitude kneeling be- neath it. 1 180 This was their rural chapel. Aloft, through the intricate arches Of its aerial roof, arose the chant of their vespers. Mingling its notes with the soft susurrus and sighs of the branches. Silent, with heads uncovered, the travellers, nearer approach- Knelt on the swarded floor, and joined in the evening devotions 1185 But when the service was done, and the benediction had fallen Forth from the hands of the priest, like seed from the hands of the soever. Slowly the reverend man advanced to the strangers, and bade them Welcome; and when they replied, he smiled with benignant expression. Hearing the homelike sounds of his mother-tongue in the forest, 1190 And with words of kindness conducted them into his wigwam. There upon mats and skins they reposed, and on cakes of the maize-ear Feasted, and slaked their thirst from the water-gourd of the teacher. Soon was their story told; and the priest with solemnity answer- ed:— "Not six suns have risen and set since Gabriel, seated 1195 On this mat by my side, where now the maiden reposes. Told me this same sad tale; then arose and continued his journey! " Soft was the voice of the priest, and he spake with an accent of kindness; But on Evangeline's heart fell his words as in winter the snow- flakes Fall into some lone nest from which the birds have departed. 98 Nnrrathic Poems of Longfellow 1200 "Far to the north he has gone," continued the priest; "but in autumn, When the chase is done, will return again to the Mission." Then Evangehne said, and her voice was meek and submissive, — ■ "Let me remain with thee, for my soul is sad and afflicted." So seemed it wise and well unto all; and betimes on the morrow, 1205 Mounting his Mexican steed, with his Indian guides and com- panions, Homeward Basil returned, and Evangeline stayed at the Mis- sion. Slowly, slowly, slowly the days succeeded each other, — Days and weeks and months; and the fields of maize that were springing Green from the ground when a stranger she came, now waving above her, 1210 Lifted their slender shafts, with leaves interlacing, and forming Cloisters for mendicant crows and granaries pillaged by squir- rels. Then in the golden weather the maize was husked, and the maidens Blushed at each blood-red ear, for that betokened a lover. But at the crooked laughed, and called it a thief in the corn- field. 1215 Even the blood-red ear to Evangeline brought not her lover. "Patience!" the priest would say; *'have faith, and thy prayer will be answered! Look at this delicate plant that lifts its head from the meadow See how its leaves a!l point to the north, as true as the magnet ; It is the compass-flower, that the finger of God has suspended 1220 Here on its fragile stalk, to direct the traveller's journey Over the sea-like, pathless, limitless waste of the desert. Such in the soul of man is faith. The blossoms of passion, Gay and luxuriant flowers, are brighter and fuller of fragrance. But they beguile us, and lead us astray, and their odor is deadly. 1225 Only this humble plant can guide us here, and hereafter Crown us with asphodel flowers, that are wet with the dews of nepenthe." So came the autumn, and passed, and the winter, — yet Gabriel came not; Evangeline 99 Blossomed the opening spring, and the notes of the robin and blue-bird Sounded sweet upon wold and in wood, yet Gabriel came not. 1230 But on the breath of the summer winds a rumor was wafted Sweeter than song of bird, or hue or odor of blossom. Far to the north and east, it said, in the I\Iichigan forests, Gabriel had his lodge by the banks of the Saginaw River. And, with returning guides, that sought the lakes of St. Law- rence, 1235 Saying a sad farewell, Evangeline went from the Mission. When over weary ways, by long and perilous marches. She had attained at length the depths of the Michigan forests, Found she the hunter's lodge deserted and fallen to ruin! Thus did the long sad years glide on, and in seasons and places 1240 Divers and distant far was seen the wandering maiden; — Now in the tents of grace of the meek Moravian Missions, Now in the noisy camps and the battle-fields of the army. Now in secluded hamlets, in towns and populous cities. Like a phantom she came, and passed away unremembered. 1245 Fair was she and young, when in hope began the long journey; Faded was she and old, when in disappointment it ended. Each succeeding year stole something away from her beauty. Leaving behind it, broader and deeper, the gloom and the shadow. Then there appeared and spread faint streaks of gray o'er her forehead, 1250 Dawn of another life, that brol^e o'er her earthly horizon, As in the eastern sky the first faint streaks of the morning. In. that delightful land which is washed by the Delav/are's waters. Guarding in sylvan shades the name of Penn the apostle. Stands on the banks of its beautiful stream the city he founded. 1255 There 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. 100 Narrathe Poems of Longfellow There from the troubled sea had Evangeline landed, an exile, Finding among the children of Penn a home and a country. 1260 There old Rene Leblanc had died; and when he departed, Saw at his side only one of all his hundred descendants. Something at least there was in the friendly streets of the city, Something that spake to her heart, and made her no longer a stranger; And her ear was pleased with the Thee and Thou of the Quakers, 1265 For it recalled the past, the old Acadian covmtry. Where all men were equal, and all were brothers and sisters. So, when the fruitless search, the disappointed endeavor. Ended, to recommence no more upon earth, uncomplaining. Thither, as leaves to the light, were turned her thoughts and her footsteps. 1270 As from a mountain's top the rainy mists of the morning Rolled away, and afar we behold the landscape below us, Sun-illumined, with shining rivers and cities and hamlets. So fell the mists from her mind, and she saw the world far below her, Dark no longer, but all illumined with love; and the pathway 1275 Which she had climbed so far, lying smooth and fair in the dis- tance. Gabriel was not forgotten. Within her heart w^as his image. Clothed in the beauty of love and youth, as last she beheld him, Only more beautiful made by his deathlike silence and absence. Into her thoughts of him time entered not, for it was not. 1280 Over him years had no power; he was not changed, but trans- figured; • He hatl become to her heart as one who is dead, and not absent; Patience and abnegation of self, and devotion to others, This was the lesson a life of trial and sorrow had taught her. So was her love diffused, but, like to some odorous spices, 1285 Suffered no waste nor loss, though filling the air with aroma. Other hope had she none, nor wish in life, but to follow Meekly, with reverent steps, the sacred feet of her Savioiu*. Thus many years she lived as a Sister of Mercy, frequenting Lonely and wretched roofs in the crowtled lanes of the city, 1290 Where distress and want concealed themselves from the sun- light, Where disease and sorrow in garrets languished neglected. Night after night, when the world was asleep, as the watchman repeated Evangeline 101 Loud, through the gusty streets, that all was well in the city, High at some lonely window he saw the light of her taper. 1295 Day after day, in the gray of the dawn, as slow through the suburbs Plodded the German farmer, with flowers and fruits for the market, Met he that meek, pale face, returning home from its watchiiigs. Then it came to pass that a pestilence fell on the city, Presaged by wondrous signs, and mostly by flocks of wiki pigeons. 1300 Darkening the sun in their flight, with naught in their craws but an acorn. And, as the tides of the sea arise in the month of Se|)tember, Flooding some silver stream, till it spreads to a lake in the meadow. So death flooded life, and, o'erflowing its natural margin, Spread to a brackish lake, the silver stream of existence. 1305 Wealth had no power to l)ribe, nor beauty to charm, the op- pressor; But all perished alike beneath the scourge of his anger; — Only, alas! the poor, who had neither friends nor attendants, Crept away to die in the almshouse, home of the homeless. Then in the suburbs it stood, in the midst of meadows and woodlands; . . 1310 Now the city surrounds it; but still, with its gateway and wicket Meek, in the midst of splendor, its humble walls seem to echo Softly the words of the Lord: — "The poor ye always have with you." Thither, by night and by day, came the Sister of Mercy. The dying Looked up into her face, and thought, indeed, to behold there 1315 Gleams of celestial light encircle her forehead with splendor, Such as the artist paints o'er the brows of saints and apostles, Or such as hangs by night o'er a city seen at a distance. Unto their eyes it seemed the lamps of the city celestial. Into whose shining gates ere long their spirits would enter. 1320 Thus, on a Sabbath morn, through the streets, deserted and silent, Wending her quiet way, she entered the door of the almshouse. Sweet on the summer air was the odor of flowers in the garden; 102 Narrative Poemfi of Longfellow And she paused on her way to gather the fairest among thenl, That the dying once more might rejoice in their fragrance and beauty. 1325 Then, as she mounted the stairs to the corridors, cooled by the east wind. Distant and soft on her ear fell the chimes from the belfry of Christ Church, While, intermingled with these, across the meadows were wafted Sounds of psalms, that were sung by the Swedes in their Church at Wicaco. Soft as descending wings fell the calm of the hour on her spirit; 1330 Something within her said, — "At length thy trials are ended;" And, with light in her looks, she entered the chambers of sick- ness. Noiselessly moved about the assiduous, careful attendants. Moistening the feverish lip, and the aching brow, and in silence Closing the sightless eyes of the dead, and concealine: their faces, 1335 Where on their pallets they lay, like drifts of snow by the road- side. Many a languid head, upraised as Evangeline entered, Turned on its pillow of pain to gaze while she passed, for her presence Fell on their hearts like a ray of the sun on the walls of a prison. And, as she looked around, she saw how Death, the consoler, 1340 Laying his hand upon many a heart, had healed it forever. Many familiar forms had disappeared in the night-time; Vacant their places were, or filled already by strangers. Suddenly, as if arrested by fear or a feeling of wonder, Still she stood, with her colorless lips apart, while a shudder 1345 Ran through her frame, and, forgotten, the flowerets dropped from her fingers. And from her eyes and cheeks the light and bloom of the morn- ing. Then there escaped from her lips a cry of such terrible anguish, That the dying heard it, and started up from their pillows. On the pallet before her was stretched the form of an old man. 1350 Long, and thin, and gray were the locks that shaded his temples; But, as he lay in the morning light, his face for a moment Seemed to assume once more the forms of its earlier manhood; So are wont to be changed the faces of those who are dying. Evangeline 103 Hot and red on his lips still burned the flush of the fever, 1355 As if life, like the Hebrew, with blood had besprinkled its portals, That the Angel of Death might see the sign, and pass over. Motionless, senseless, dying he lay, and his spirit exhausted Seemed to be sinking down through infinite depths in the dark- ness. Darkness of slumber and death, forever sinking and sinking. 1360 Then through those realms of shade, in multiplied reverbera- tions. Heard he that cry of pain, and through the hush that succeeded Whispered a gentle voice, in accents tender and saint-like, "Gabriel! O my beloved!" and died away into silence. Then he beheld in a dream, once more the home of his child- hood; 1365 Green Acadian meadows, with sylvan rivers among them, Village, and mountain, and woodlands; and, walking under their shadow, As in the days of her youth, Evangeline rose in his vision. Tears came into his eyes; and as slowly he lifted his eyelids, Vanished the vision away, but Evangeline knelt by his bedside. 1370 Vainly he strove to whisper her name, for the accents unuttered Died on his lips, and their motion revealed what his tongue would have woken. Vainly he strove to rise; and Evangeline, kneeling l)eside him. Kissed his dying lips, and laid his head on her bosom. Sweet was the light of his eyes; but it suddenly sank into dark- ness, 1375 As when a lamp is blown out by a gust of wind at a casement. All was ended now, the hope, and the fear, and the sorrow. All the aching of heart, the restless, unsatisfied longing. All the dull, deep pain, and constant anguish of patience! And, as she pressed once more the lifeless head to her bosom, 1380 Meekly she bowed her own, and murmured, "Father, I thank thee! " Still stands the forest primeval; but far away from its shadow, Side by side, in their nameless graves, the lovers are sleeping, Under the humble walls of the little Catholic churchyard, In the heart of the city, they lie, unknown and unnoticed, 1385 Daily the tides of life go ebbing and flowing beside them, 104 Narrative Poems of Longfellow Thousands of throbbing hearts, where theirs are at rest and forever, Thousands of aching brains, where theirs no longer are busy. Thousands of toihng hands, where theirs have ceased from their labors. Thousands of weary feet, where theirs have completed their journey 1390 Still stands the forest primeval^ but under the shade of its branches Dwells another race, with other customs and language. Only along the shore of the mournful and misty Atlantic Linger a few Acadian peasants, whose fathers from exile Wandered back to their native land to die in its bosom. 1395 In the fisherman's cot the wheel and the loom are still busy. Maidens still wear their Norman caps and their kirtles of home- spun. And by the evening fire repeat Evangeline's story. While from its rocky caverns the deep- voiced neighboring ocean Speaks, and in accents disconsolate answers the wail of the forest. INTRODUCTION TO THE SONG OF HIAWATHA The Song of Hiawatha, published in 1855, was not the first poem of Longfellow's showing his interest in the American Indian. In Voices of the J , . Night, published in 1839, appeared "The Indian Themes Burialof theMinnisink," a remarkablelit- tle poem full of appreciation of the poetic elements in the customs and beliefs of the Indian. In the second part of Evangeline, fourth canto, there is a decided herald of the Indian legend which, in less than ten years, was to form the basis of one of his most ambitious efforts. Nor did he completely exhaust his store of Indian sym- pathy when The Song of Hiawatha was completed. "The Revenge of Rain-in-the-Facc," in one of his latest published volumes, shows how keenly he felt the Indian's wrongs at the white man's hand. This interest in Indian themes found at intervals throughout his long career may be traced in part to the following facts. He passed his youth and early manhood in Maine, and doubtless had some contact with the rem- nants of the Indians before their migration westward. While in college at Bowdoin, he was strongly influenced by the life and labor of Heckewelder, a Moravian mis- 105 106 Narrative Poems of Longfellow sionary among the Indians, whose works Longfellow read with curious interest as early as 1824. The publications of Schoolcraft, (whose work will be noted in detail later), especially the Algic Researches, and Oneota, made a very great impression upon the poet during the years 1830-1840, when Indian themes kept suggesting themselves vaguely to his mind as a basis for serious work. Finally, when the poet heard the Ojibway chief, Kah-ge-ga-gah'-bowh, lecture in Boston in 1849 on the Religion, Poetry, and Eloquence of the Indians, he received an inspiration that was soon to bear fruit in a work of unquestionable merit and great popular favor. The legends that form the basis of Longfellow's work first gained publicity through Mr. J. V. H. Clark in an Sources article published in the New York Com- of the mercial Advertiser, containing some Iro- Work quois legends obtained by him through two Onondaga chiefs. These notes of Clark's were used by Schoolcraft before they were incorporated in Clark's History of Onondaga, in 1849. In the same year, 1849, Alfred Billings Street, after- wards State Librarian of New York, poet and miscellaneous writer, published his metrical romance, Frofitenac. A few original notes from Iroquois sources together with School- craft's works, which had been appearing at intervals since 1825, constitute the basis of Street's poem. It is known that Longfellow admired Street's mediocre work and praised highly his handling of nature. Introduction to The Sortg of Hiawatha 107 Henry Rowe Schoolcraft, however, was Longfellow's chief authority, source, and inspiration in writing The Song of Hiawatha; and in considering Schoolcraft the origin of Longfellow's Indian ma- terial, too much credit cannot be given to Schoolcraft. Schoolcraft was sent west as early as 1822 as agent for the Indian tribes around Lake Superior. Turning his attention to history and ethnology, he w^as one of the founders of the Algic Society, organized in 1831, at Detroit, for the purpose of preserving Indian traditions. During his years of service to the government, settling disputes, effecting treaties, managing Indian affairs in general, he was gathering a vast store of Indian legends, tradi- tions, and customs, through personal contact with the Indians in their native haunts. His publications include literary and scientific works as well as his government reports. His chief works are these: Travels in the Central Portions of the Mississippi Valley, 1825; Narrative of an Expedition through the Upper Mississippi to Itasca Lake, 1834; The Indian and His Wigwam, 1838; Algic Researches, 1839; Oneota, or Characteristics of the Red Race of America, 1845; Notes on the Iroquois, 1846; Personal Memoirs of a Residence of Thirty Years with the Indian Tribes, 1851; and his monumental work, published under governmental auspices at a cost of over $30,000, — Historical and Statistical Infor- mation Respecting the History, Conditions, and Prospects 108 Narrative Poems of Longfellow of the Indian Tribes of the United States, 1851-1857. His Hiawatha Legends appeared in 1856, the year after Longfellow's Song of Hiawatha, and was dedicated to Longfellow. Schoolcraft's use of the name, Hiawatha, in connection with the Ojibway legends was made in spite of the fact that he was aware of the inconsistency of identi- fying an Iroquois character with western traditions, but it was done, doubtless, out of courtesy to Longfellow. Because of his laxity in this and other matters, School- craft laid himself open to the harsh criticism of the scientific historian, who is inclined to depreciate even his valuable contributions on the subject of Indian traditions. Park- man says that in view of his opportunities and his zeal, his results are most unsatisfactory. It is only just to say of Schoolcraft, however, that the blunders and contradictions are largely the mistakes of the old chiefs, the historians and story-tellers of the tribes, from whom he received the traditions as they were told him. Many of the legends appearing in Schoolcraft's works were translated by his wife, the grand-daughter of an Ojibway chief, who had been educated in Europe. Whether or not Schoolcraft's work is scientific, this much may be said, — that he has preserved much legendary Indian lore that would otherwise have been lost, however different and changed this lore may be from the true ab- original traditions. Longfellow felt and acknowledged his full debt to Schoolcraft. In his own notes that accompanied the first edition of the poem, he said: Introduction to The Song of Iliaicdtha 109 "This Indian Edda — if I may so call it — is founded on a tradition prevalent among the North American Indians, of a personage of miraculous birth, who was sent among them to clear their rivers, forests, and fishing-grounds, and Longfellow's ^^ teach them the arts of peace. He was Debt to known among the different tribes by the Schoolcraft several names of Michabou, Chiabo, Manabozo, Tarenyawagon, and Hiawatha. Mr. School- craft gives an account of him in his Algic Researches, Vol. I. p. 134; and in his History, Condition, and Prospects of the Indian Tribes of the United States, Part III. p. 314, may be found the Iroquois form of the tradition, derived from the verbal narrations of an Onondaga chief. ''Into this old tradition I have woven other curious Indian legends, drawn chiefly from the various and valu- able writings of Mr. Schoolcraft, to whom the literary world is greatly indebted for his indefatigable zeal in rescuing from oblivion so much of the legendary lore of the Indians." The form of the poem, like the subject -matter, has an interesting history. Longfellow was reading the Finnish Epic, Kalevala, at the time his ideas The Form seem to have been crystallizing in regard to the subject-matter of his proposed poem; and the meter of Hiawatha is the meter of the Kalevala, the eight syllabled trochaic with frequent alliter- ation and a peculiar monotony of beat, said to be the characteristic verse of the Finns. This meter is very 110 Narrative Poems of Longfellow old, probably dating to ante-Christian times. The tro- chaic tetrameter is wonderfully adapted to the charac- teristic style of the poem, — frequent The Kalevala . . •^ , nil • repetitions and parallels. A compari- son of a few lines of Hiawatha with the following trans- lation from the thirty-sixth Rune of the Kalevala will show how completely Longfellow adopted the meter and style, including repetitions and parallels, as the medium for his poem. Rune XXXVI, 298-321. Kiillerwoinen, wicked wizard, Grasps the handle of his broadsword, Asks the blade this simple question: 'Tell me, O my blade of honor, Dost thou wish to drink my life-blood, Drink the blood of Kullerwoinen?' Thus his trusty sword makes answer, Well-divining his intentions: 'Why should I not drink thy life-blood. Blood of guilty Kullerwoinen, Since I feast upon the worthy, Drink the life-blood of the righteous?' Thereupon the youth, Kullervo, Wicked wizard of the Northland, Lifts the mighty sword of Ukko, Bids adieu to earth and heaven; Firmly thrusts the hilt in heather. To his heart he points the weapon, J Throws his weight upon his broad-sword, ] Pouring out his wicked life-blood, j \i 4 i Introduction to The Song of Hiawatha 111 Ere he journeys to Manala. Thus the wizard finds destruction, This the end of Kullerwoinen Born in sin, and nursed in folly. ^ The derivative nature of both form and substance of The Song of Hiawatha, led the hostile critics to bring forth charges of plagiarism, and for a year and a half following the publication of the poem, Longfellow found himself in the midst of attack and defense. Schiefner's German trans- arges o hition of the Kalevala in the original Plagiarism i • o -i i meter had appeared m 1852, three years before Hiawatha. Longfellow was charged by his critics with having borrowed both the meter and the incidents for his Hiawatha from Schiefner's work, with which he confessed himself thoroughly accjuainted. The poet felt keenly the injustice of the attacks upon his literary honesty. A letter to his friend, Charles Sumner, December 3, 1855, in answer to a harsh criti- cism in a Washington paper, contains a clear acknowl- edgment of his debt to Schoolcraft as w^ell as to the Kalevala, and disposes finally of the charge of improper borrowing from either. "This is truly one the greatest literary outrages lever heard of. But I think it is done mainly to show the learning of the writer He will stand finally in the position of the man who makes public assertions he cannot substantiate. You see what the charge of imita- 1— Freely rendered into English verse by John Martin Crawford. 112 Narrative Poems of Longfellow tion amounts to by the extracts given. As to my hav- ing taken many of the most striking incidents of the Finnish Epic and transferred them to the American Indians' — it is absurd. I can give chapter and verse for these legends. Their chief value is that they are Indian legends. I know the Kalevala very well; and that some of its legends resemble the Indian stories preserved by Schoolcraft is very true. But the idea of making me responsible for that is too ludicrous. " Though The Song of Hiawatha is based upon a peculiarly American subject, it is wrong to claim for the poem what some over-friendly critics maintained, — that "The Song ^* ^^ **^ Forest Epic," a "Native Amer- of Hiawatha" ican poem," '*an Indian Edda;" ''our an Artistic nearest approach to an American Epic," Adaptation ^,^^ j^^p-^ j^ ^^^ great a term, and im- plies too much, to be applied to this poem. Epic poetry involves a natural growth and a natural spirit that are wholly foreign to Hiawatha. It is an epic poem only in the generic sense of being a narrative. Extravagant praise and unwarranted claims are not necessary for an apprecia- tion of its charm. Those who like the poem like it for what it is, for what the author himself saw it to be, — merely a putting together of the legends and customs of a race known to him only through his books. The scenes of the poem, never visited by him, are pictured from bookish knov/ledge of geographical accounts, and his descriptions are the conventional descriptions of a writer who sees nature in her wildest haunts only with his mind's eye, by Introduction to The Song of Hiawatha 113 the fireside of his study. Again, the characters of tlie poem are ideahzed beyond all warrant. Longfellow was too much a writer of sentiment to be able to keep out of the poem the human sympathy and tender sentiment so char- acteristic of his literary work as a whole. This is the basis upon which his detractors, among the scientists and historians, found their objections to the work,— that it is poetry, sentiment, idealization, not a contribution to the literature that helps to explain the American Indian, or to reflect his life and thought. It is not a natural poem, born of the forest and of the myths of a vanishing race ; it is an art poem, born of the author's conception of what con- stitutes an artistic subject with all its purely literary and rhetorical adornments. As Professor Newcomer admi- rably suggests in his American Literature, The Song of Hiawatha is no more a poem of the soil than the poem an Englishman might write of the aboriginal Bushmen of Australia. The subject-matter is Schoolcraft's; the form and style are Finnish; the art of adapting the former to the latter is Longfellow's. His use of Schoolcraft's ma- terial shows skill in the principle of artistic selection. Omitting much that he knew would contradict the im- pression he desired to leave, he has given an idealization to his characters by the use of just such legends as would aid his object. The chief character, Hiawatha, is a composite; and here, the artist is seen again in the re-creation of an ideal person- age from elements of diverse source. The name Hiawatha 114 Narrative Poems of Longfellow is first associated with a legendary Onondaga chief of East- ern Iroquois stock of the fifteenth century. Many noble as well as many trivial traits were attrib- TT- ,xr^ ' iited to him by the traditional accounts of the Indians themselves. But the character Longfellow had in mind, and around whom he proposed to make the poem revolve, was Manabozho, the culture hero of the West Algonquins. In his diary of June 25, 1854, he writes: *'I could not help this evening making a beginning on Manabozho f or whatever the poem is to be called. His adventures will form the theme at all events." An entry the following week shows that he had adopted the more euphonious name, Hiawatha: "Worked at Hiawatha, as I do more or less every day. It is purely in the realm of fancy." Thus he continues to attribute western Algon- quin traditions to an eastern Iroquois hero. It is interest- ing to note that the two Indian stocks which furnished these prototypes of the hero, were inveterate enemies, con- stantly at war with each other. To know Hiawatha, then, one needs to know Mana- bozho. According to Parkman, he was the culture hero and ruler of the gods and animals among lawa a- ^j^^ Algonquin tribes. He is represented Manabozho i • • , • i as the prmcipal agent m the work of creation, the teacher of the various Indian arts of hunting, fishing, and the like, the destroyer of monsters, the neu- tralizer of evil influences, and withal a great trickster. Introduction to The Song of Hiawatha 115 "This Manabozho was the most conspicuous of the partly mythical characters of Algonquin tradition. He was known among that tribe under the various names of Manabozho, Messou, Michabou, Nanabush, or the Great Hare. He is king of all the animal kings. According to the most current belief, his father was the West Wind and his mother a greatgranddaughter of the moon. His char- acter is worthy of such a parentage. Sometimes he is a wolf, a bird, or a gigantic hare surrounded by a court of quadrupeds; sometimes he appears in human shape, majestic in stature and wondrous in endowment, a mighty magician, a destroyer of serpents and evil manitous; some- times he is a vain and treacherous imp, full of childish whims and petty trickery, the butt and victim of men, beasts, and spirits. His powers of transformation are v/ithout limit; his curiosity and malice are insatiable; and of the numberless legends of which he is the hero, the greater part are as trivial as they are incoherent."—^ As with Hiawatha, so with the other characters of the poem,— Longfellow did with them v/hat his artistic sense The Other required. They are introduced in strik- Characters ^"^ contrast with the central hero, (as in the case of Mudjekeewis, Pearl-Feather, and Pau-Puk-Keewis,) to accentuate his virtues, or to add to them by associating with him such characters as lagoo, Kwasind, and Chibiabos. The romance and pathos centering around the lovely Minnehaha are essential to the human sympathy required of the reader by the poet, but are certainly not to be taken as accurate representa- tions of Indian life. iParkman, The Jesuits in North America. 116 Narrative Poems of Longfellow What, then, is the value of a poem so startHngly lacking in originaHty, so full of inconsistencies in its ideal creations, so monotonous in metrical effect? We cannot call it an epic unless we qualify it by the word artificial; we cannot call it a true nature poem, for though the descriptions, when taken separately, appear to have the elements of a scene from nature, in the aggregate they lack the local color and the definite visualization of the true nature poet. We cannot read the poem in continuous stretches without being wearied by its parallelisms and repetitions of thought. On the other hand, if we judge the work in parts, the style of the poem must be pronounced graceful and easy. The meter adds a charm of novelty to an already novel subject-matter. The poem is an artistic weaving together of the worthiest legends of the North American Indians whose virtues, idealized, are the virtues common to the heroes of every race. The charm of the poem — and charm it has — lies in the human sympathy that pervades it and the noble sentiments it inculcates. We forget that we are reading of the deeds of a primitive hero, when we are touched by the humanity of such an appeal as this: Ye whose hearts are fresh and simple, Who have faith in God and Nature, Who beheve, that in all ages Every human heart is human, That in even savage bosoms There are longings, yearnings, strivings For the good they comprehend not, Introduction to The Song of Hiawatha 117 That the feeble hands and helpless, Groping blindly in the darkness, Touch God's right hand in that darkness And are lifted up and strengthened; — Listen to this simple story, To this Song of Hiawatha! It is this element in the poem that led Emerson to say of it, — "It is sweet and wholesome as maize.'* THE SONG OF HIAWATHA Should you ask me, whence these stories? Whence these legends and traditions, With the odors of the forest, Witli the dew and damp of meadows, 5 With the curHng smoke of wigwams, With the rushing of great rivers, With their frequent repetitions, And their wild reverberations. As of thunder in the mountains? 10 1 should answer, I should tell you, "From the forests and the prairies, From the great lakes of the Northland, From the land of the Ojibways, From the land of the Dacotahs, 15 From the mountains, moors, and fen-lands, Where the heron, the Shuh-shuh-gah, Feeds among the reeds and rushes. I repeat them as I heard them From the lips of Nawadaha, 20 The musician, the sweet singer." Should you ask where Nawadaha Foufid these songs, so wild and wayward Found these legends and traditions, I should answer, I should tell you, 25 "In the bird's-nests of the forest, In the lodges of the beaver, In the hoof-prints of the bison, In the eyry of the eagle! " All the wild-fowl sang them to him, 30 In the moorlands and the fen-lands. In the melancholy marshes; Chetowaik, the plover, sang them, Mahng, the loon, the wild goose, Wawa, The blue heron, the Shuh-shuh-gah, 35 And the grouse, the Mushkodasa!" If still further you should ask me, Saying, "Who was Nawadaha? 118 The Song of Hiawatha 119 Tell us of this Nawadaha," I should answer your inquiries 40 Straightway in such words as follow "In the Vale of Tawasentha, In the green and silent valley, By the pleasant w^ater-courses, Dwelt the singer Nawadaha. 45 Round about the Indian village Spread the meadows and the cornfields, And beyond them stood the forest. Stood the groves of singing pine-trees. Green in Summer, white in Winter, 50 Ever sighing, ever singing. "And the pleasant water-courses, You could trace them through the valley. By the rushing in the Spring-time, By the alders in the Summer, 55 By the white fog in the Autumn, By the black line in the "Winter; And beside thepi dwelt the singer. In the Vale of Tawasentha, In the green and silent valley. 60 "There he sang of Hiawatha, Sang the Song cf Hiawatha, Sang his wondrous birth and being. How he prayed and how he fasted, How he lived, and toiled, and suffered, 65 That the tribes of men might prosper. That he might advance his people!" Ye who love the haunts of Nature, Love the sunshine of the meadow, Love the shadow of the forest, 70 Love the wind among the branches, And the rain-shower and the snow-storm, And the rushing of great rivers Through their palisades of pine-trees. And the thunder in the mountains, 75 Whose innumerable echoes Flap like eagles in their eyries; — Listen to these wild traditions, To this Song of Hiawatha! Ye who love a nation's legends, 120 Narrative Poems of Longfellow 80 Love the ballads of a people, That like voices from afar off Call to us to pause and listen, Speak in tones so plain and childlike, Scarcely can the ear distinguish 85 Whether they are sung or spoken; — Listen to this Indian Legend, To this Song of Hiawatha! Ye whose hearts are fresh and simple, Who have faith in God and Nature, 90 Who believe, that in all ages Every human heart is human, That in even savage bosoms There are longings, yearnings, strivings For the good they comprehend not, 95 That the feeble hands and helpless. Groping blindly in the darkness, Touch Ciod's right hand in that darkness And are lifted up and strengthened; — Listen to this simple story,, 100 To this Song of Hiawatha! Ye, who sometimes, in your rambles, Through the green lanes of the country. Where the tangled barberry-bushes Hang their tufts of crimson berries 105 Over stone walls gray with mosses, Pause by some neglected graveyard, For a while to muse, and ponder On a half-effaced inscription. Written with little skill of song-craft, 110 Homely phrases, but each letter Full of hope and yet of heart-break, Full of all the tender pathos Of the Here and the Hereafter; — Stay and read this rude inscription, 115 Read this Song of Hiawatha! THE PEACE-PIPE On the Mountains of the Prairie, On the great Red Pipe-stone Quarry, The Song of Hiawatha 121 Gitche Manito, the mighty, He the Master of Light, descending, 5 On the red crags of the quarry- Stood erect, and called the nations, Called the tribes of men together. From his footprints flowed a river, Leaped into the light of morning, 10 O'er the precipice plunging downward Gleamed like Ishkoodah, the comet. And the Spirit, stooping earthward, With his finger on the meadow Traced a winding pathway for it, 15 Saying to it, " Run in this way! " From the red stone of the quarry With his hand he broke a fragment, Moulded it into a pipe-head. Shaped and fashioned it with figures; 20 From the margin of the river Took a long reed for a pipe-stem, With its dark green leaves upon it; Filled the pipe with bark of willow, With the bark of the red willow; 25 Breathed upon the neighboring forest, Made its great boughs chafe together. Till in flame they burst and kindled; And erect upon the mountains, Gitche Manito, the mighty, 30 Smoked the calumet, the Peace-Pipe, As a signal to the nations. And the smoke rose slowly, slowly, Through the tranquil air of morning, First a single line of darkness, 35 Then a denser, bluer vapor. Then a snow-white cloud unfolding. Like the tree-tops of the forest, Ever rising, rising, rising. Till it touched the top of heaven, 40 Till it broke against the heaven, And rolled outward all around it. From the Vale of Tawasentha, From the Valley of Wyoming, From the groves of Tuscaloosa, 122 Narrative Poems of Longfellow 45 From the far-off Rocky Mountains, | From the Northern lakes and rivers, ! All the tribes beheld the signal, j Saw the distant smoke ascending, j The Pukwana of the Peace-Pipe. \ 50 And the Prophets of the nations j Said: ''Behold it, the Pukwana! ] By this signal from afar off, ] Bending like a wand of willow, Waving like a hand that beckons, | 55 Gitche Manito, the mighty, ; Calls the tribes of men together, '\ Calls the warriors to his council! " j Down the rivers, o'er the prairies, , Came the warriors of the nations, j 60 Came the Dela wares and Mohawks, Came the Choctaws and Camanches, \ Came the Shoshonies and Blackfeet, ; Came the Pawnees and Omahas, I Came the Mandans and Dacotahs, . 65 Came the Hurons and Ojibways, ■ All the warriors drawn together ' By the signal of the Peace-Pipe, j To the Mountains of the Prairie, I To the great Red Pipe-stone Quarry. j 70 And the}'' stood there on the meadow, ; With their weapons and their war gear, j Painted like the leaves of Autumn, \ Painted like the sky of morning, ' Wildly glaring at each other; ' 75 In their faces stern defiance, ! In their hearts the feuds of ages, j The hereditary hatred, I The ancestral thirst of vengeance. Gitche Manito, the mighty, ^ 80 The creator of the nations, , Looked upon them with compassion, With paternal love and pity; \ Looked upon their wrath and wrangling But as quarrels among children, i 85 But as feuds and fights of children! 1 Over them he stretched his right hand, The Song of Hiawatha 123 To subdue their stubborn natures, To allay their thirst and fever, By the shadow of his right hand; 90 Spake to them with voice majestic As the sound of far-off waters, Falling into deep abysses, Warning, chiding, spake in this wise: — "O my children! my poor children! 95 Listen to the words of wisdom, Listen to the words of warning. From the lips of the Great Spirit, From the Master of Life, who made you. "I have given you lands to hunt in, 100 I have given you streams to fish in, I have given you bear and bison, I have given you roe and reindeer, I have given you brant and beaver. Filled the marshes full of wild-fowl, 105 Filled the rivers full of fishes; Why then are you not contented? Why then will you hunt each other? "I am weary of your quarrels. Weary of your wars and bloodshed, II Weary of your prayers for vengeance, Of your wranglings and dissensions; All your strength is in your union, All your danger is in discord; Therefore be at peace henceforward, 115 And as brothers live together. "I will send a Prophet to you, A Deliverer of the nations, Who shall guide you and shall teach you, Who shall toil and suffer with you. 1 20 If you listen to his counsels. You will multiply and prosper; If his warnings pass unheeded. You will fade away and perish! "Bathe now in the stream before you, 1 25 Wash the war-paint from your faces, Wash the blood-stains from your fingers. Bury your v/ar-clubs and your weapons, Break the red stone from this quarry, 124 Narrative Poems of Longfellow Mould and make it into Peace-Pipes, i 130 Take the reeds that grow beside you, • \ Deck them with your brightest feathers, Smoke the calumet together, And as brothers live henceforward! " Then upon the ground the warriors ■ 135 Threw their cloaks and shirts of deerskin, \ Threw their weapons and their war-gear, i Leaped into the rushing river. j Washed the war-paint from their faces. \ Clear above them flowed the water, i 1 40 Clear and limpid from the footprints ] Of the Master of Life descending; 1 Dark below them flowed the water, ^ Soiled and stained with streaks of crimson, ^ As if blood were mingled with it! 145 From the river came the warriors, \ Clean and washed from all their war-paint; \ On the banks their clubs they buried, i Buried all their warlike weapons. \ Gitche Manito, the mighty, \ 150 The Great Spirit, the creator, \ Smiled upon his helpless children! I And in silence all the warriors - ■ Broke the red stone of the quarry, i Smoothed and formed it into Peace-Pipes, 155 Broke the long reeds by the river, ; Decked them with their brightest feathers, ; And departed each one homeward, While the Master of Life, ascending, ; Through the opening of cloud-curtains, 160 Through the doorways of the heaven, i Vanished from before their faces, i In the smoke that rolled around him, ; The Pukwana of the Peace-Pipe! ; i II ' THE FOUR WINDS | "Honor be to Mudjekeewis! " ' \ Cried the warriors, cried the old men, i The Song of Hiawatha 125 When he came in triumph homeward With the sacred Belt of Wampum, 5 From the regions of the North-Wind, From the kingdom of Wabasso, From the land of the White Rabbit. He had stolen the Belt of Wampum From the neck of Mishe-Mokwa, 10 From the Great Bear of the mountains, From the terror of the nations, As he lay asleep and cumbrous On the summit of the mountains, Like a rock with mosses on it, 15 Spotted brown and gray with mosses. Silently he stole upon him, Till the red nails of the monster Almost touched him, almost scared him, Till the hot breath of his nostrils 20 Warmed the hands of Mudjekeewis, As he drew the Belt of Wampum Over the round ears, that heard not, Over the small eyes, that saw not. Over the long nose and nostrils, 25 The black muffle of the nostrils, Out of which the heavy breathing Warmed the hands of Mudjekeewis. Then he swung aloft his war-club, Shouted loud and long his war-cry, 30 Smote the mighty Mishe-Mokwa In the middle of the forehead. Right between the eyes he smote him. With the heavy blow bewildered. Rose the Great Bear of the mountains; 35 But his knees beneath him trembled, And he whimpered like a woman. As he reeled and staggered forward. As he sat upon his haunches; And the mighty Mudjekeewis, 40 Standing fearlessly before him, Taunted him in loud derision. Spake disdainfully in this wise: — "Hark you. Bear! you are a coward, And no Brave, as you pretended; 126 Narrative Poems of Longfellow 45 Else you would not cry and whimper Like a miserable woman! Bear! you know our tribes are hostile, Long have been at war together; Now you find that we are strongest, 50 You go sneaking in the forest, You go hiding in the mountains! Had you conquered me in battle Not a groan would I have uttered; But you, Bear! sit here and whimper, 55 And disgrace your tribe by crying, Like a wretched Shaugodaya, Like a cowardly old woman! " Then again he raised his war-club, Smote again the Mishe-Mokwa^ 60 In the middle of his forehead, Broke his skull, as ice is broken When one goes to fish in Winter Thus was slain the Mishe-Mokwa, He the Great Bear of the mountains, 65 He the terror of the nations. "Honor be to Mudjekeewis! " With a shout exclaimed the people. "Honor be to Mudjekeewis! Henceforth he shall be the West- Wind, 70 And hereafter and forever Shall he hold supreme dominion Over all the winds of heaven. Call him no more Mudjekeewis, Call Wm Kabeyun, the West-Wind! " 75 Thus was Mudjekeewis chosen Father of the Winds of Heaven. For himself he kept the West- Wind, Gave the others to his children; Unto Wabun gave the East- Wind, 80 Gave the South to Shawondasee, And the North- Wind, wild and cruel, To the fierce Kabibonokka. Young and beautiful was Wabun; He it was who brought the morning, 85 He it was whose silver arrows Chased the dark o'er hill and valley; The Song of Hiawatha 127 He it was whose cheeks were painted With the brightest streaks of crimson, And whose voice awoke the village, 90 Called the deer, and called the hunter. Lonely in the sky was Wabun; Though the birds sang gayly to him, Though the wild-flowers of the meadow Filled the air with odors for him, 95 Though the forests and the rivers Sang and shouted at his coming. Still his heart was sad within him. For he was alone in heaven. But one morning, gazing earthv/ard, 100 While the village still was sleeping, And the fog lay on the river, Like a ghost, that goes at sunrise, He beheld a maiden walking All alone upon a meadow, 105 Gathering water-flags and rushes By a river in the meadow. Every morning, gazing earthward. Still the first thing he beheld there Was her blue eyes looking at him, 110 Two blue lakes among the rushes. And he loved the lonely maiden, Who thus waited for his coming; For they both were solitary. She on earth and he in heaven. 115 And he wooed her with caresses, Wooed her with his smile of sunshine, With his flattering words he wooed her, With his sighing and his singing. Gentlest whispers in the branches, 120 Softest music, sweetest odors, Till he drew her to his bosom. Folded in his robes of crimson, Till into a star he changed her. Trembling still upon his bosom; 125 And forever in the heavens They are seen together walking, Wabun and the Wabun- Annung, Wabun and the Star of Morning. 123 Narrative Poems of Longfellow But the fierce Kabibonokka 130 Had his dwelhng among icebergs, In the everlasting snow-drifts, In the kingdom of Wabasso, In the land of the White Rabbit. He it was whose hand in Autumn 1 35 Painted all the trees with scarlet, Stained the leaves with red and yellow; He it was who sent the snow-flakes, Sifting, hissing through the forest, Froze the ponds, the lakes, the rivers, 140 Drove the loon and sea-gull southward, Drove the cormorant and curlew To their nests of sedge and sea-tang In the realms of Shawondasee. Once the fierce Kabibonokka 145 Issued from his lodge of snow-drifts. From his home among the icebergs, And his hair, with snow besprinkled Streamed behind him like a river, Like a black and wintry river, 150 As he howled and hurried southward, Over frozen lakes and moorlands. There among the reeds and rushes Found he Shingebis, the diver. Trailing strings of fish behind him, 155 O'er the frozen fens and moorlands, Lingering still among the moorlands, Though his tribe had long departed To the land of Shawondasee. Cried the fierce Kabibonokka, 160 "Who is this that dares to brave me? Dares to stay in my dominions, When the Wawa has departed. When the wild-goose has gone southward, And the heron, the Shuh-shuh-gah, 165 Long ago departed southward? I will go into his wigwam, I will put his smouldering fire out! " And at night Kabibonokka To the lodge came wild and wailing, 170 Heaped the snow in drifts about it, The Song of Hiawatha 129 Shouted down into the smoke-flue, Shook the lodge-poles in his fury, Flapped the curtain of the door-way. Shingebis, the diver, feared not, 175 Shingebis, the diver, cared not; Four great logs had he for fire-wood, One for each moon of the winter. And for food the fishes served him. By his blazing fire he sat there, 180 Warm and merry, eating, laughing, Singing, "O Kabibonokka, You are but my fellow-mortal!" Then Kabibonokka entered, And though Singebis, the diver, 185 Felt his presence by the coldness, Felt his icy breath upon him, Still he did not cease his singing, Still he did not leave his laughing. Only turned the log a little, 190 Only made the fire burn brighter Made the sparks fly up the smoke-flue. From Kabibonokka 's forehead. From his snow-besprinkled tresses. Drops of sweat fell fast and heavy, 195 Making dints upon the ashes, As along the eaves of lodges, As from drooping boughs of hemlock. Drips the melting snow in spring-time. Making hollov/s in the snow-drifts. 200 Till at last he rose defeated Could. not bear the heat and laughter. Could not bear the merry singing. But rushed headlong through the door-way. Stamped upon the crusted snow-drifts, 205 Stamped upon the lakes and rivers, Made the snow upon them harder. Made the ice upon them thicker. Challenged Shingebis, the diver. To come forth and wrestle with him, 210 To come forth and wrestle naked On the frozen fens and moorlands. Forth went Shingebis, the diver, 13<^ Narrative Poems of Longfellow Wrestled all night with the North-Wind, Wrestled naked on the moorlands 215 With the fierce Kabibonokka, Till his panting breath grew fainter, Till his frozen grasp grew feebler, Till he reeled and staggered backward, And retreated, baffled, beaten, 220 To the kingdom of Wabasso, To the land of the White Rabbit, Hearing still the gusty laughter, Hearing Shingebis, the diver. Singing, "O Kabibonokka, 225 You are but my fellow-mortal!'' Shawondasee, fat and lazy, Had his dwelling far to southward, In the drowsy, dreamy sunshine, In the never-ending Summer. 230 He it was who sent the wood-birds, Sent the robin, the Opechee, Sent the blue-bird, the Owaissa, Sent the Shawshaw, sent the swallow, Sent the wild-goose, Wawa, northward, 235 Sent the melons and tobacco, And the grapes in purple clusters. From his pipe the smoke ascending Filled the sky with haze and vapor, Filled the air with dreamy softness, 240 Gave a twinkle to the water. Touched the rugged hills with smoothness, Brought the tender Indian Summer To the melancholy north-land, i ; . In the dreary Moon of Snow-shoes. 245 Listless, careless Shawondasee! In his life he had one shadow, In his heart one sorrow had he. Once, as he was gazing northward, Far away upon a prairie 250 He beheld a maiden standing, Saw a tall and slender maiden All alone upon a prairie; Brightest green were all her garments, And her hair was like the sunshine. The Song of Hiawatha 131 255 Day by day he gazed upon her, Day by day he sighed with passion, Day by day his heart within him Grew more hot with love and longing For the maid with yellow tresses. 260 But he was too fat and lazy To bestir himself and woo her; •Yes, too indolent and easy To pursue her and persuade her. So he only gazed upon her, 205 Only sat and sighed with passion For the maiden of the prairie. Till one morning, looking northward, He beheld her yellow tresses Changed and covered o'er with whiteness, 270 Covered as with whitest snow-flakes. "Ah! my brother from the North-land, From the kingdom of Wabasso, From the land of the White Rabbit! You have stolen the maiden from me, 275 You have laid your hand upon her. You have wooed and won my maiden, With your stories of the North-land! " Thus the wretched Shawondasee Breathed into the air his sorrow; 283 And the South- Wind o'er the prairie Wandered warm with sighs of passion, With the sighs of Shawondasee, Till the air seemed full of snow-flakes, Full of thistle-down the prairie, 285 And the maid with hair like sunshine Vanished from his sight forever; Never more did Shawondasee See the maid with yellow tresses! Poor, deluded Shawondasee! 290 'T was no woman that you gazed at, 'T Tv^as no maiden that you sighed for, 'T was the prairie dandelion That through all the dreamy Summer You had gazed at with such longing, 295 You had sighed for with such passion. And had puffed away forever, 132 Narrative Poems of Longfellow Blown into the air with sighing. Ah! deluded Shawondasce! Thus the Four Winds were divided; 300 Thus the sons of Mudjekeewis Had their stations in the heavens; At the corners of the heavens ; For himself the West-Wind only . Kept the mighty Mudjekeewis. Ill Hiawatha's childhood Downward through the evening twilight. In the days that are forgotten, In the unremembered ages, From the full moon fell Nokomis, 5 Fell the beautiful Nokomis, She a wife, but not a mother. She was sporting with her women, Swinging in a swing of grape-vines, When her rival, the rejected, 10 Full of jealousy and hatred, Cut the leafy swing asunder. Cut in twain the twisted grape-vines, And Nokomis fell affrighted Downward through the evening twilight, 15 On the Muskoday, the meadow, On the prairie full of blossoms. "See! a star falls! " said the people; "From the sky a star is falHng! " There among the ferns and mosses, 20 There among the prairie lilies, On the Muskoday, the meadow, In the moonlight and the starlight, Fair Nokomis bore a daughter. And she called her name Wenonah, 25 As the first-born of her daughters. And the daughter of Nokomis Grew up like the prairie lilies, Grew a tall and slender maiden, The Song of Hiawatha 133 With the beauty of the moonhght, With the beauty of the starhght. And Nokomis warned her often, Saying oft, and oft repeating, "O, beware of Mudjekeewis, Of the West- Wind, Mudjekeewis; Listen not to what he tells you; Lie not down upon the meadow. Stoop not down among the lilies, Lest the West- Wind come and harm you!" But she heeded not the warning, Heeded not those words of wisdom, And the West- Wind came at evening, Walking lightly o'er the prairie, Whispering to the leaves and blossoms. Bending low the flowers and grasses, Found the beautiful Wenonah, Lying there among the lilies, Wooed her with his words of sweetness, Wooed lier with his soft caresses. Till she bore a son in sorrow. Bore a son of love and sorrow. Thus was born rxij Hiawatha, Thus was born the child of wonder; But the daughter of Nokomis, Hiawatha's gentle mother, In her anguish died deserted By the West- Wind, false and faithless, By the heartless Mudjekeewis. For her daughter, long and loudly Wailed and wept the sad Nokomis; "O that I were dead! " she murmured, "^O that I were dead, as thou art! No more work, and no more weeping, Wahonowin! Wahonowin! " By the shores of Gitche Gumee, By the shining Big-Sea- Water, Stood the wigwam of Nokomis, Daughter of the Moon, Nokomis, Dark behind it rose the forest. Rose the black and gloomy pine-trees. Rose the firs with cones upon them; 134 Narrative Poems of Longfellow ■ Bright before it beat the water, ' Beat the clear and sunny water, ;; Beat the shining Big-Sea- Water. ■] There the wrinkled, old Nokomis 'i 75 Nursed the little Hiawatha, /! Rocked him in his linden cradle, i Bedded soft in moss and rushes, ^ Safely bound with reindeer sinews; i Stilled his fretful wail by saying. < 80 "Hush! the Naked Bear will get thee!" i Lulled him into slumber, singing, "Ewa-yea! my little owlet! Who is this, that lights the wigwam? With his great eyes lights the wigwam? ; 85 Ewa-yea! my little owlet! " Many things Nokomis taught him Of the stars that shine in heaven; Showed him Ishkoodah, the comet, ; Ishkoodah, with fiery tresses; l 90 Showed the Death-Dance of the spirits, { Warriors with their plumes and war-clubs^ Flaring far away to northward : In the frosty nights of Winter; ! Showed the broad, white road in heaven, ; 95 Pathway of the ghosts, the shadows, ^ Running straight across the heavens, ■ Crowded with the ghosts, the shadows. ; At the door on summer evenings i Sat the little Hiawatha; ?] 1 00 Heard the whispering of the pine-trees, ^ Heard the lapping of the water, 5 Sounds of music, words of wonder; "Minne-wawa! '' said the pine-trees, '", "Mudway-aushka! " said the water. ^ 105 Saw the fire-fly, Wah-wah-taysee, ■ Flitting through the dusk of evening, .; With the twinkle of its candle j Lighting up the brakes and bushes, | And he sang the song of children, 110 Sang the song Nokomis taught him: " Wah-wah-taysee, little fire-fly. Little, flitting, white-fire insect, The Song oj Hiawatha 135 Little, dancing, white-fire creature, Light me with your Httle candle, Ere upon my bed I lay me, Ere in sleep I close my eyelids! " Saw the moon rise from the water, Rippling, rounding from the water. Saw the fiecks and shadows on it, Whispered, "What is that, Nokomis?" And the good Nokomis answered: " Once a warrior, very angry, Seized his grandmother, and threw her Up into the sky at midnight; Right against the moon he threw her; 'Tis her body that you see there." Saw the rainbow in the heaven. In the eastern sky, the rainbow. Whispered, "What is that, Nokomis?" And the good Nokomis answered: " 'Tis the heaven of flowers you sec there; All the wild-flowers of the forest. All the lilies of the prairie. When on earth they fade and perish.. Blossom in that heaven above us." When he heard the owls at midnight, Hooting, laughing in the forest, "What is that?" he cried in terror; "What is that?" he said, "Nokomis?" And the good Nokomis answered: " That is but the owl and owlet. Talking in their native language. Talking, scolding at each other," Then the little Hiawatha Learned of every bird its language. Learned their names and all their secrets. How they built their nests in Summer, Where they hid themselves in Winter, Talked with them whene'er he met them, Called them "Hiawatha's Chickens." Of all beasts he learned the language. Learned their names and all their secrets, How the beavers built their lodges, .Where the squirrels hid their acorns, 136 Narrative Poems of LongjclUno 155 How the reindeer ran so swiftly, Why the rabbit was so timid, Talked with them whene'er he met them, • | Called them "Hiawatha's Brothers." 1 Then lagoo, the great boaster, , 160 He the marvellous story-teller, j He the traveller and the talker, j He the friend of old Nokomis, I Made a bow for Hiawatha; ' From a branch of ash he made it, 165 From an oak-bough made the arrows, Tipped with flint, and winged with feathers, And the cord he made of deer-skin. i Then he said to Hiawatha: 1 "Go, my son, into the forest, ^ 170 Where the red deer herd together, Kill for us a famous roebuck, Kill for us a deer with antlers! ^' Forth into the forest straightway . j All alone walked Hiawatha 175 Proudly, with his bow and arrows; And the birds sang round him, o'er him, ^ "Do not shoot us, Hiawatha!" j Sang the robin, the Opechee, Sang the blue-bird, the Owaissa, ' i 180 "Do not shoot us, Hiawatha! " ; Up the oak-tree, close beside him, ,^ Sprang the squirrel, Adjidaumo, i In and out among the branches, \ Coughed and chattered from the oak-tree, ; 185 Laughed, and said between his laughing "Do not shoot me, Hiawatha!" And the rabbit from his pathway :^ Leaped aside, and at a distance i Sat erect upon his haunches, ^ 190 Half in fear and half in frolic, ■ Saying to the little hunter, "Do not shoot me, Hiawatha! " But he heeded not, nor heard them, i For his thoughts were with the red deer; ■ 195 On their tracks his eyes were fastened, • Leading downward to the river. I The Song of Hiawatha 137 To the ford across the river, And as one in slumber walked he. Hidden in the alder-bushes, 200 There he waited till the deer came, Till he saw two antlers lifted. Saw two eyes look from the thicket, Saw two nostrils point to windward. And a deer came down the pathway, 205 Flecked with leafy light and shadow. And his heart within him fluttered Trembled like the leaves above him. Like the birch-leaf palpitated. As the deer came down the pathway. 210 Then, upon one knee uprising, Hiawatha aimed an arrow; Scarce a twig moved with his motion, Scarce a leaf was stirred or rustled, But the wary roebuck started, 215 Stamped with all his hoofs together. Listened with one foot uplifted, Leaped as if to meet the arrow, Ah! the singing, fatal arrow; Like a wasp it buzzed and stung himl 220 Dead he lay there in the forest, By the ford across the river; Beat his timid heart no longer, But the heart of Hiawatha Throbbed and shouted and exulted, 225 As he bore the red deer homeward. And lagoo and Nokomis Hailed his coming with applauses. From the red deer's hide Nokomis Made a cloak for Hiawatha, 230 From the red deer's flesh Nokomis Made a banquet in his honor. All the village came and feasted, All the guests praised Hiawatha, Called him Strong-Heart, Soan-ge-tahal 235 Called him Loon-Heart, Mahn-go-tayseel 138 Narrative Poems of Longfellow IV HIAWATHA AND MUDJEKEEWIS Out of childhood into manhood Now had grown my Hiawatha, Skilled in all the craft of hunters, Learned in all the lore of old men, 5 In all youthful sports and pastimes, In all manly arts and labors. Swift of foot was Hiawatha; He could shoot an arrow from him, And run forward with such fleetness, 10 That the arrow fell behind him! Strong of arm was Hiawatha; He could shoot ten arrows upward, Shoot them with such strength and swiftness, That the tenth had left the bow-string 15 Ere the first to earth had fallen! He had mittens, Minjekahwun, Magic mittens made of deer-skin; When upon his hands he wore them, He could smite the rocks asunder, 20 He could grind them into powder. He had moccasins enchanted, Magic moccasins of deer-skin; When he bound them round his ankles, When upon his feet he tied them, 25 At each stride a mile he measured! Much he questioned old Nokomis Of his father Mudjekeewis; Learned from her the fatal secret Of the beauty of his mother, 30 Of the falsehood of his father; And his heart was hot within him. Like a living coal his heart was Then he said to old Nokomis, "I will go to Mudjekeewis, 35 See how fares it with my father, At the doorways of the West- Wind, At the portals of the Sunset 1 " From his lodge went Hiawatha, The Song of Hiawatha 13£ Dressed for travel, armed for hunting; Dressed in deer-skin shirt and leggings, Richly wrought with quills and wampum; On his head his eagle-feathers, Round his waist his belt of wampum, In his hand his bow of ash-wood. Strung with sinews of the reindeer; In his quiver oaken arrows. Tipped with jasper, winged with feathers; With his mittens, Minjekahwun, With his moccasins enchanted. Warning said the old Nokomis, "Go not forth, O Hiawatha! To the kingdom of the West- Wind, To the realms of Mudjekeewis, Lest he harm you with his magic, Lest he kill you with his cunning! " But the fearless Hiawatha Heeded not her woman's warning; Forth he strode into the forest. At each stride a mile he measured; Lurid seemed the sky above him, Lurid seemed the earth beneath him, Hot and close the air around him, Filled with smoke and fiery vapors, As of burning woods and prairies, For his heart was hot within him, Like a living coal his heart was. So he journeyed westward, westward, Left the fleetest deer behind him. Left the antelope and bison; Crossed the rushing Esconaba, Crossed the mighty Mississippi, Passed the Mountains of the Prairie, Passed the land of Crows and Foxes, Passed the dwellings of the Blackfeet, Came unto the Rocky Mountains, To the kingdom of the West-Wind, Where upon the gusty summits Sat the ancient Mudjekeewis, Ruler of the winds of heaven. Filled with awe was Hiawatha 140 Narrative Poems of Long fellow At the aspect of his father. On the air about him wildly Tossed and streamed his cloudy tresses, Gleamed like drifting snow his tresses, 85 Glared like Ishkoodah, the comet, Like the star with fiery tresses. Filed with joy was Mudjekeewis When he looked on Hiawatha, Saw his youth rise up before him 90 In the face of Hiawatha, Saw the beauty of Wenonah From the grave rise up before him. "Welcome!" said he, "Hiawatha, To the kingdom of the West- Wind! 95 Long have I been waiting for you! Youth is lovely, age is lonely, Youth is fiery, age is frosty; You bring back the days departed, You bring back my youth of passion, 100 And the beautiful Wenonah! " Many days they talked together, Questioned, listened, waited, answered; Much the mighty Mudjekeewis Boasted of his ancient prowess, 1 05 Of his perilous adventures, His indomitable courage, His invulnerable body. Patiently sat Hiawatha, Listening to his father's boasting; 110 With a smile he sat and listened. Uttered neither threat nor menace, Neither word nor look betrayed him. But his heart was hot within him, Like a living coal his heart was. 115 Then he said, "O Mudjekeewis, Is there nothing that can harm you? Nothing that you are afraid of?" And the mighty Mudjekeewis, Grand and gracious in his boasting, 120 Answered, saying, "There is nothing. Nothing but the black rock yonder. Nothing but the fatal Wawbeek! " The Song of Hiawatha 141 And he looked at Hiawatha With a wise look and benignant, 125 With a countenance paternal, Looked with pride upon the beauty Of his tall and graceful figure, Saying, "O my Hiawatha! Is there anything can harm you? 130 Anything you are afraid of?'' But the wary Hiawatha Paused awhile, as if uncertain, Held his peace, as if resolving. And then answe red, '' There is nothing, 135 Nothing but the bulrush yonder, Nothing but the great Apukwa! " And as Mudjekeewis, rising. Stretched his hand to pluck the bulrush, Hiawatha cried in terror, 140 Cried in well-dissembled terror, "Kago! kago! do not touch it! " "Ah, kaween! " said Mudjekeewis, "No indeed, I will not touch it! " Then they talked of other matters; 145 First of Hiawatha's brothers, First of Wabun, of the East- Wind, Of the South- Wind, Shawondasee, Of the North, Kabibonokka; Then of Hiawatha's mother, 130 Of the beautiful Wenonah, Of her birth upon the meadow, Of her death, as old Nokomis Had remembered and related. And he cried, " O Mudjekeewis, 155 It was you who killed Wenonah, Took her young life and her beauty. Broke the Lily of the Prairie, Trampled it beneath your footsteps. You confess it! you confess it! " 160 And the mighty Mudjekeewis Tossed upon the wind his tresses, Bowed his hoary head in anguish, With a silent nod assented. Then up started Hiawatha, 142 Narrative Poems of Longfellow 165 And with threatening look and gesture Laid his hand upon the black rock, On the fatal Wawbeek laid it, With his mittens, Minjekahwun, Rent the jutting crag asunder, 1/0 Smote and crushed it into fragments, Hurled them madly at his father, The remorseful Mudjekeewis, For his heart was hot within him, Like a living coal his heart was. 175 But the ruler of the West- Wind Blew the fragments backward from him, With the breathing of his nostrils, With the tempest of his anger, Blew 'them back at his assailant; 180 Seized the bulrush, the Apukwa, Dragged it with its roots and fibres From the margin of the meadow. From its ooze, the giant bulrush; Long and loud laughed Hiawatha! 185 Then began the deadly conflict, Hand to hand among the mountains; From his eyry screamed the eagle, The Keneu, the great war-eagle; Sat upon the crags around them, 1 90 Wheeling flapped his wings above them. Like a tall tree in the tempest Bent and lashed the giant bulrush; And in masses huge and heavy Crashing fell the fatal Wawbeek; 195 Till the earth shook with the tumult And confusion of the battle. And the air was full of shoutings. And the thunder of the mountains, Starting, answered, "Baim-wawa!" 200 Back retreated Mudjekeewis, Rushing westward o'er the mountains, Stumbling westward down the mountains. Three whole days retreated fighting. Still pursued by Hiawatha 205 To the doorways of the West- Wind, To the portals of the Sunset, The Song of Hiawatha 143 To the earth's remotest border, Where into the empty spaces Sinks the sun, as a flamingo 210 Drops into her nest at nightfall, In the melancholy marshes. "Hold! " at length cried Mudjekeewis, "Hold, my son, my Hiawatha! 'Tis impossible to kill me, 215 For you cannot kill the immortal I have put you to this trial, But to know and prove your courage; Now receive the prize of valor! "Go back to your home and people, 220 Live among them, toil among them, Cleanse the earth from all that harms it, Clear the fishing-grounds and rivers, Slay all monsters and magicians, All the Wendigoes, the giants, 225 All the serpents, the Kenabeeks, As I slew the Mishe-Mokwa, Slew the Great Bear of the mountains. "And at last when Death draws near you> When the awful eyes of Pauguk 230 ■ Glare upon you in the darkness, I will share my kingdom with you. Ruler shall you be thenceforward Of the North west- Wind, Keewaydin, Of the home- wind, the Keewaydin." 235 Thus was fought that famous battle In the dreadful days of Shah-shah, In the days long since departed. In the kingdom of the West-Wind. Still the hunter sees its traces 240 Scattered far o'er hill and valley; Sees the giant bulrush growing By the ponds and water-courses. Sees the masses of the Wawbeek Lying still in every valley. 245 Homeward now went Hiawatha: Pleasant was the landscape round him, Pleasant was the air above him. For the bitterness of anger 144 Narrative Poems of Longfellow Had departed wholly from him, 250 From his brain the thought of vengeance From his heart the burning fever. Only once his pace he slackened, Only once he paused or halted. Paused to purchase heads of arrows 255 Of the ancient Arrow-maker, In the land of the Dacotahs, Where the Falls of Minnehaha Flash and gleam among the oak-trees, Laugh and leap into the valley. 260 There the ancient Arrow-maker Made his arrow-heads of sandstone, Arrow-heads of chalcedony, Arrow-heads of flint and jasper, Smoothed and sharpened at the edges 265 Hard and polished, keen and costly. With him dwelt his dark-eyed daughter. Wayward as the Minnehaha, With her moods of shade and sunshine. Eyes that smiled and frowned alternate, 270 Feet as rapid as the river. Tresses i3owing like the water, And as musical a laughter; And he named her from the river, From the water-fall he named her, 275 Minnehaha, Laughing Water, Was it then for heads of arrows, Arrow-heads of chalcedony. Arrow-heads of flint and jasper. That my Hiawatha halted 280 In the land of the Dacotahs? Was it not to see the maiden, See the face of Laughing Water Peeping from behind the curtain, Hear the rustling of her garments, 285 From behind the waving curtain, As one sees the Minnehaha Gleaming, glancing through the branches. As one hears the Laughing Water From behind its screen of branches? 290 Who shall say what thoughts and visions The Song of Hiawatha 145 Fill the fiery brains of young men? Who shall say what dreams of beauty Filled the heart of Hiawatha? All he told to old Nokomis, When he reached the lodge at sunset, Was the meeting with his father, Was his fight with Mudjekeewis; Not a word he said of arrows, Not a word of Laughing Water., HIAWATHA S FASTING You shall hear how Hiawatha Prayed and fasted in the forest, Not for greater skill in hunting, -Not for greater craft in fishing, 5 Not for triumphs in the battle. And renown among the warriors, But for profit of the people, For advantage of the nations. First he built a lodge for fasting, 10 Built a wigwam in the forest, By the shining Big-Sea- Water, In the blithe and pleasant Spring-time, In the Moon of Leaves he built it. And, with dreams and visions many, 15 Seven whole days and nights he fasted. On the first day of his fasting Through the leafy woods he wandered; Saw the deer start from the thicket. Saw the rabbit in his burrow, 20 Heard the pheasant, Bena, drumming Heard the squirrel, Adjidaumo, Rattling in his hoard of acorns. Saw the pigeon, the Omeme, Building nests among the pine-trees, 25 And in flocks the wild goose, Wawa, Flying to the fen-lands northward, Whirring, wailing far above him. 146 Narrative Poems of Long fellow "Master of Life! " he cried, desponding, "Must our lives depend on these things?" 30 On the next day of his fasting By the river's brink he wandered, Through the Muskoday, the meadow, Saw the wild rice, Mahnomonee, Saw the bhieberry, Meenahga, 35 And the strawberry, Odahmin, And the gooseberry, Shahbomin, And the grape-vine, the Bemahgut, Trailing o'er the alder-branches, Filling all the air with fragrance! 40 "Master of Life! " he cried, desponding, "Must our lives depend on these things?" On the third day of his fasting By the lake he sat and pondered. By the still, transparent water; 45 Saw the sturgeon, Nahma, leaping. Scattering drops like beads of wampum, Saw the yellow perch, the Sahwa Like a sunbeam in the water. Saw the pike, the Maskenozha, 50 And the herring, Okahahwis, And the Shawgashee, the craw-fish! "Master of Life! " he cried, desponding, "Must our lives depend on these things?" On the fourth day of his fasting 55 In his lodge he lay exhausted; From his couch of leaves and branches Gazing with half-open eyelids. Full of shadowy dreams and visions. On the dizzy, swimming landscape, 60 On the gleaming of the water, On the splendor of the sunset. And he saw a youth approaching. Dressed in garments green and yellow, Coming through the purple twilight, 65 Through the splendor of the sunset; Plumes of green bent o'er his forehead, And his hair was soft and golden. Standing at the open doorway, Long he looked at Hiawatha, The Song of Hiawatha 147 70 Looked with pity and compassion On his wasted form and features, And, in accents hke the sighing Of the South- Wind in the tree-tops, Said he, ''O my Hiawatha! 75 All your prayers are heard in heaven. For you pray not like the others, Not for greater skill in hunting, Not for greater craft in fishing, Not for triiunph in the battle, 80 Nor renown among the warriors, But for profit of the people, For advantage of the nations. " From the Master of Life descending, I, the friend of man, Mondamin, 85 Come to warn you and instruct you. How by struggle and by labor You shall gain what you have prayed for. Rise up from your bed of branches. Rise, O youth, and wrestle with me! " 90 Faint with famine, Hiawatha Started from his bed of branches. From the twilight of his wigwam Forth into the flush of sunset Came, and wrestled with Mondamin; 95 At his touch he felt new courage Throbbing in his brain and bosom, Felt new life and hope and vigor Run through every nerve and fibre. So they wrestled there together 100 In the glory of the sunset. And the more they strove and struggled, Stronger still grew Hiawatha; Till the darkness fell around them, And the heron, the Shuh-shuh-gah, 1 05 From her nest among the pine-trees, Gave a cry of lamentation, Gave a scream of pain and famine. " 'T is enough! " then said Mondamin, Smiling upon Hiawatha, no "But to-morrow, when the sun sets, I will come again to try you." 148 Narrative Poenifi of Longfellow And he vanished, and was seen not; ■ Whether sinking as the rain sinks, ;i Whether rising as the mists rise, | 115 Hiawatha saw not, knew not, | Only saw that he had vanished, ' Leaving him alone and fainting, - With the misty lake Ix^low him, ; And the reeling stars above him. | 120 On the morrow and the next day, 1 When the sun through heaven descending, j Like a red and burning cinder, i From the hearth of the Great Spirit, i Fell into the western waters, li 125 Came Mondamin for the trial, ' For the strife with Hiawatha; - ; Came as silent as the dew comes, j From the empty air appearing, 1 Into empty air returning, 130 Taking shape when earth it touches, • But invisible to all men 1 In its coming and its going. t Thrice they wrestled there together | In the glory of the sunset, 1 135 Till the darkness fell around them, j Till the heron, the Shuh-shuh-gah, j From her nest among the pine-trees, ': Uttered her loud cry of famine, j And Mondamin paused to listen. ■ 140 Tall and beautiful he stood there, . In his garments green and yellow; j To and fro his plumes above him Waved and nodded with his breathing. And the sweat of the encounter j 145 Stood like drops of dew upon him. J And he cried, "O Hiawatha! ' Bravely have you wrestled with me, ■ Thrice have wrestled stoutly with me _ \ And the Master of Life, who soes us, t 150 He will give to you the triumph! " ; Then he smiled, and said: ''To-morrow i Is the last day of your conflict. Is the last day of your fasting. , The Song of Hiawatha 149 You will conquer and o'ercome me; 155 Make a bed for me to lie in, Where the rain may fall upon me, Where the sun may come and warm me; Strip these garments, green and yellow, Strip this nodding plumage from me, 160 Lay me in the earth, and make it Soft and loose and light above me. "Let no hand disturb my slumber, Let no weed nor worm molest me, Let not Kahgahgee, the raven, 165 Come to haunt me and molest me, Only come yourself to watch me, Till I wake, and start, and quicken, Till I leap into the sunshine." And thus sajang, he departed; 170 Peacefullj^ slept Hiawatha, But he heard the Wawonaissa, Heard the whippoorwill complaining, Perched upon his lonely wigwam; Heard the rushing Sebowisha, 175 Heard the rivulet rippling near him, Talking to the darksome forest; Heard the sighing of the branches, As they lifted and subsided At the passing of the night-wind, ISO Heard them, as one hears in slumber Far-off murmurs, dreamy whispers: Peacefully slept Hiawatha. On the morrow came Nokomis, On the seventh day of his fasting, 185 Came with food for Pliawatha, Came imploring and bewailing, Lest his hunger should o'ercome him. Lest his fasting should be fatal. But he tasted not, and touched not 190 Only said to her, "Nokomis, Wait until the sun is setting. Till the darkness falls around us, Till the heron, the Shuh-shuh-gah, Crying from the desolate marshes, 195 Tells us that the day is ended." 150 Narrative Poems of Longjcllow \ Homeward weeping went Nokomis, j Sorrowing for her Hiawatha, j Fearing lest his strength should fail him ; Lest his fasting should be fatal. | 200 He meanwhile sat weary waiting J For the coming of Mondamin, \ Till the shadows, pointing eastward, Lengthened over field and forest, ; Till the sun dropped from the heaven, ■ 205 Floating on the waters westward, : As a red leaf in the Autumn i Falls and floats upon the water, • Falls and sinks into its bosom. \ And behold! the young Mondamin, ' 210 With his soft and shining tresses, j With his garments green and yellow, 1 With his long and glossy plumage, 'i Stood and beckoned at the doorway. .: And as one in slumber walking, \ 215 Pale and haggard, but undaunted, j From the wigwam Hiawatha ■ Came and wrestled with Mondamin. \ Round about him spun the landscape, ; Sky and forest reeled together, \ 220 And his strong heart leaped within him, i As the sturgeon leaps and struggles ■; In a net to break its meshes, | Like a ring of fire around him ']. Blazed and flared the red horizon, » -? 225 And a hundred suns seemed looking \ At the combat of the wrestlers. ! Suddenly upon the greensward i All alone stood Hiawatha, | Panting with his wild exertion, J 230 Palpitating with the struggle; % And before him, breathless, lifeless, j Lay the youth, with hair dishevelled, ^ Plumage torn, and garments tattered, - ; Dead he lay there in the sunset. ^^ 235 And victorious Hiawatha % Made the grave as he commanded, % Stripped the garments from Mondamin, : ■ The Song uf Hiawatha 151 Strippetl his tattered plumage from him, Laid him in the earth, and made it 2 40 Soft and loose and light above him; And the heron, the Shuh-shuh-gah, From the melancholy moorlands, Gave a cry of lamentation. Gave a cry of pain and anguishi 2 4f) Homeward then went Hiawatha To the lodge of old Nokomis, And the seven days of his fasting Were accomplished and completed, But the place was not forgotten 250 Where he wrestled with Mondamin; Nor forgotten nor neglected Was the grave where lay Mondamin, Sleeping in the rain and sunshine, Where his scattered plumes and garments 255 Faded in the rain and sunshine. Day by day did Hiawatha Go to wait and watch beside it; Kept the dark mould soft above it, Kept it clean from weeds and insects, 260 Drove away, with scoffs and shoutings, Kahgahgee, the king of ravens. Till at length a small green feather From the earth shot slowly upward, Then another and another, 265 And before the Summer ended Stood the maize in all its beauty. With its shining robes about it. And its long, soft, yellow tresses; And in rapture Hiawatha 270 Cried aloud, "It is Mondamin! Yes, the friend of man, Mondamin 1 " Then he called to old Nokomis And lagoo, the great boaster, Showed them where the maize was growing, 275 Told them of his wondrous vision, Of his wrestling and his triumph, Of this new gift to the nations, Which should be their food forever. And still later, when the Autumn 152 Narrative Poems oj Lorigfellow 280 Changed the long, green leaves to yellow, And the soft and juicy kernels Grew like wampum hard and yellow, Then the ripened ears he gathered, Stripped the withered husks from off them, ] 285 As he once had stripped the wrestler, i Gave the first Feast of Mondamin, i And made known unto the people ; This new gift of the Great Spirit. j VI 1 Hiawatha's friends | i Two good friends had Hiawatha, i Singled out from all the others. Bound to him in closest union, ' And to whom he gave the right hand i 5 Of his heart, in joy and sorrow: ! Chibiabos, the musician, ' And the very strong man, Kwasind. ; Straight between them ran the pathway, ' Never grew the grass upon it; 10 Singing birds, that utter falsehoods, ; Story-tellers, mischief-makers. Found no eager ear to listen, ^ Could not breed ill-will between them, ' For they kept each other's counsel, ) 15 Spake with naked hearts together, j Pondering much and much contriving ; How the tribes of men might prosper, ; Most beloved by Hiawatha j Was the gentle Chibiabos, * 20 He the best of all musicians, ] He the sweetest of all singers. " Beautiful and childlike was he, j Brave as man is, soft as woman, j Pliant as a wand of willow, i 25 Stately as a deer with antlers. j When he sang, the village listened; i All the warriors gathered round him, i The Song of Hiawatha 153 All the women came to hear him; Now he stirred their souls to passion, 30 Now he melted them to pity. From the hollow reeds he fashioned Flutes so musical and mellow, That the brook, the Sebowisha, Ceased to murmur in the woodland, 35 That the wood-birds ceased from singing, And the squirrel, Adjidaumo, Ceased his chatter in the oak-tree, And the rabbit, the Wabasso, Sat upright to look and Hsten. 40 Yes, the brook, the Sebowisha, Pausing, said, "O Chibiabos, Teach my waves to flow in music, Softly as your words in singing! " Yes, the blue-bird, the Owaissa, 45 Envious, said, " O Chibiabos, Teach me tones as wild and wayward, Teach me songs as full of frenzy! " Yes, the robin, the Opechec, Joyous, said, "O Chibiabos, 50 Teach me tones as sweet and tender, Teach me songs as full of gladness! " And the whippoorwill, Wawonaissa, Sobbing, said, ''O Chibiabos, Teach me tones as melancholy, S5 Teach me songs as full of sadness! " All the many sounds of nature Borrowed sweetness from his singing; All the hearts of men were softened By the pathos of his music: 60 For he sang of peace and freedom. Sang of beauty, love, and longing; Sang of death, and life undying In tlie Island of the Blessed, In the kingdom of Ponemah, 65 In the land of the Hereafter. Very dear to Hiawatha Was the gentle Chibiabos, He the best of all musicians, He the sweetest of all singers; 154 Narrative Poems of Longfellow 70 For his gentleness he loved him, And the magic of his singing. Dear, too, unto Hiawatha Was the very strong man, Kwasind, He the strongest of all mortals, 75 He the mightiest among many; For his very strength he loved him. For his strength allied to goodness. Idle in his youth was Kwasind, Very listless, dull, and dreamy, 80 Never played with other children. Never fished and never hunted, Not like other children was he; But they saw that much he fasted, Much his Manito entreated, 85 Much besought his Guardian Spirit. "Lazy Kwasind!" said his mother, "In my work you never help mc! In the Summer you are roaming Idly in the fields and forests; 90 In the Winter you are cowering O'er the firebrands in the wigwaml In the coldest days of Winter I must break the ice for fishing; With my nets you never help me! 95 At the door my nets are hanging, Dripping, freezing with the water; Go and wring them, Yenadizze! Go and dry them in the sunshine! " Slowly, from the ashes, Kwasind 100 Rose, but made no angry answer; From the lodge went forth in silence, Took the nets, that hung together. Dripping, freezing at the doorway; Like a wisp of straw he wrung them, 105 Like a wisp of straw he broke them. Could not wring them without breaking. Such the strength was in his fingers. "Lazy Kwasind! " said his father, "In the hunt you never help me; 110 Every bow you touch is broken. Snapped asunder every arrow; The Song of Iliaioatha 155 Yet come with me to the forest, You shall bring the hunting homeward." Down a narrow pass they wandered, Where a brooklet led them onward, Where the trail of deer and bison Marked the soft mud on the margin, Till they found all further passage Shut against them, barred securely By the trunks of trees uprooted. Lying lengthwise, lying crosswise, And forbidding further passage. "We must go back," said the old man, "O'er these logs we cannot clamber; Not a woodchuck could get through them, Not a squirrel clamber o'er them! " And straightway his pipe he lighted. And sat down to smoke and ponder. But before his pipe was finished, Lo! the path was cleared before him; All the trunks had Kwasind lifted. To the right hand, to the left hand. Shot the pine-trees swift as arrows, Hurled the cedars light as lances. "Lazy Kwasind! " said the young men, As they sported in the meadow: " Why stand idly looking at us, Leaning on the rock behind you? Come and wrestle with the others. Let us pitch the quoit together! " Lazy Kwasind made no answer. To their challenge made no answer, Only rose, and, slowly turning, Seized the huge rock in his fingers, Tore it from its deep foundation, Poised it in the air a moment. Pitched it sheer into the river. Sheer into the swift Pauwating, Where it still is seen in Summer. Once as down that foaming river, Down the rapids of Pauwating, Kwasind sailed with his companions, In the stream he saw a beaver. 156 Narrative Poems of Longfellow Saw Ahmeek, the King of Beavers, 155 Struggling with the rushing currents, Rising, sinking in the water. Without speaking, without pausing, Kwasind leaped into the river. Plunged beneath the bubbling surface, 160 Through the whirlpools chased the beaver, Followed him among the islands, Stayed so long beneath the water. That his terrified companions Cried, "Alas! good-by to Kwasind! 165 We shall never more see Kwasind! " But he reappeared triumphant. And upon his shining shoulders Brought the beaver, dead and dripping, Brought the King of all the Beavers. 170 And these two, as I have told you, Were the friends of Hiawatha, Chibiabos, the musician, And the very strong man, Kwasind, Long they lived in peace together, 175 Spake with naked hearts together, Pondering much and much contriving How the tribes of men might prosper. VI Hiawatha's sailing "Give me of your bark, O Birch-Tree! Of your yellow bark, O Birch-Tree! Growing by the rushing river, Tall and stately in the valley! 5 la light canoe will build me. Build a swift Cheemaun for sailing, That shall float upon the river, Like a yellow leaf in Autumn, Like a yellow water-lily! 10 "Lay aside your cloak, O Birch-Tree! Lay aside your white-skin wrapper. For the summer-time is coming, The Song of Hiawatha 157 And the sun is warm in heaven, And you need no white-skin wrapper! " 15 Thus aloud cried Hiawatha In the sohtary forest, By the rushing Taquamenaw, When the birds were singing gayly. In the Moon of Leaves were singing, 20 And the sun, from sleep awaking. Started up and said, ''Behold me! Geezis, the great Sun, behold me! " And the tree with all its branches Rustled in the breeze of morning, 25 Saying, with a sigh of patience, "Take my cloak, O Hiawatha! " With his knife the tree he girdled; Just beneath its lowest branches, Just above the roots, he cut it, 30 Till the sap came oozing outward; Down the trunk, from top to bottom, Sheer he cleft the bark asunder. With a wooden wedge he raised it, Stripped it from the trunk unbroken. 35 "Give me of your boughs, O Cedar! Of your strong and pliant branches. My canoe to make more steady Make more strong and firm beneath me! " Through the summit of the Cedar 40 Went a sound, a cry of horror, Went a murmur of resistance; But it whispered, bending downward, "Take my boughs, O Hiawatha!" Down he hewed the boughs of cedar, 45 Shaped them straightway to a framework. Like two bows he formed and shaped them. Like two bended bows together. "Give me of your roots, O Tamarack! Of your fibrous roots, O Larch-Tree! 50 My canoe to bind together. So to bind the ends together That the water may not enter, That the river may not wet me! " And the Larch, with all its fibres, 158 Narrative Poems of Longfellow 55 Shivered in the air of morning, Touched his forehead with his tassels, Said with one long sigh of sorrow, "Take them all, O Hiawatha!" From the earth he tore the fibres, 60 Tore the tough roots of the Larch-Tree, Closely sewed the bark together, Bound it closely to the framework "Give me of your balm, O Fir-Treel Of your balsam and your resin, 65 So to close the seams together That the water may not enter. That the river may not wet me! " And the Fir-Tree, tall and sombre, Sobbed through all its robes of darkness, 70 Rattled like a shore with pebbles, Answered wailing, answered weeping, "Take my balm, O Hiawatha!" And he took the tears of balsam, Took the resin of the Fir-Trcc, 75 Smeared therewith each seam and fissure. Made each crevice safe from water. "Give me of your quills, O Hedgehog! All your quills, O Kagh, the Hedgehog! I will make a necklace of them, 80 Make a girdle for my beauty. And two stars to deck her bosom! " From a hollow tree the Hedgehog With his sleepy eyes looked at him, Shot his shining quills, like arrows, 85 Saying, with a drowsy murmur. Through the tangle of his whiskers, ] "Take my quills, O Hiawatha! " 1 From the ground the quills he gathered, j All the little shining arrows, j 90 Stained them red and blue and yellow, | With the juice of roots and berries; Into his canoe he wrought them, j Round its waist a shining girdle, | Round its bows a gleaming necklace, j 95 On its breast two stars resplendent. \ Thus the Birch-Canoe was builded ; The Song of Hiawatha 159 In the valley, by the river, In the bosom of the forest; And the forest's life was in it, 100 All its mystery and its magic, All the lightness of the birch-tree, All the toughness of the cedar, All the larch's supple sinews; And it floated on the river 105 Like a yellow leaf in Autumn, Like a yellow water-lily. Paddles none had Hiawatha, Paddles none he had or needed, For his thoughts as paddles served him, 110 And his wishes served to guide him; Swift or slow at will he glided, Veered to right or left at pleasure. Then he called aloud to Kwasind, To his friend, the strong man, Kwasind, 115 Saying, ''Help me clear this river Of its sunken logs and sand-bars." Straight into the river Kwasind Plunged as if he were an otter. Dived as if he were a beaver, 120 Stood up to his waist in water. To his arm-pits in the river, Swam and shouted in the river. Tugged at sunken logs and branches. With his hands he scooped the sand-bars, 125 With his feet the ooze and tangle. And thus sailed my Hiawatha Down the rushing Taquamenaw, Sailed through all its bends and windings. Sailed through all its deeps and shallows, 130 While his friend, the strong man, Kwasind Swam the deeps, the shallows waded. Up and down the river went they, In and out among its islands, Cleared its bed of root and sand-bar, 135 Dragged the dead trees from its channel. Made its passage safe and certain. Made a pathway for the people. From its springs among the mountains, 160 Narrative Poems of Longfellow To the waters of Paiiwating, 140 To the bay of Taquamenaw. VIII ; Hiawatha's fishing i Forth upon tlic Gitche Gumee, On the shining Big-Sea- Water, With his fishing-Hne of cedar, Of the twisted bark of cedar, i 5 Forth to catch the sturgeon Nahma, i Mishe-Nahma, King of Fishes, ; In his birch-canoe exulting, All alone went Hiawatha. Through the clear, transparent water i 10 He could see the fishes swimming '■■ Far down in the depths below him; i See the yellow perch, the Sahwa, j Like a sunbeam in the water, See the Shawgashee, the craw-fish ; 15 Like a spider on the bottom, • On the white and sandy bottom. At the stern sat Hiawatha, '[ With his fishing-line of cedar; ] In his plumes the breeze of morning 20 Played as in the hemlock branches; On the bows, with tail erected, ] Sat the squirrel, Adjidaumo; ; In his fur the breeze of morning Played as in the prairie grasses. 25 On the white sand of the bottom : Lay the monster Mishe-Nahma, -i Lay the sturgeon. King of Fishes; \ Through his gills he breathed the water, ' With his fins he fanned and winnowed, i 30 With his tail he swept the sand-floor. ) There he lay in all his armor; . i On each side a shield to guard him, '^ Plates of bone upon his forehead, ; Down his sides and back and shoulders i The Song of Ilicncatha 161 35 Plates of bone with spines projecting! Painted was he with his war-paints, Stripes of yellow, red, and azure, Spots of brown and spots of sable; And he lay there on the bottom, 40 Fanning with his (ins of purple, As above him Hiawatha In his birch-canoe came sailing. With his fishing-line of cedar. ''Take my bait! " cried Hiawatha, 45 Down into the depths beneath him, "Take my bait, O Sturgeon, Nahmal Come up from below the water. Let us see which is the stronger! " And he dropped his line of cedar 50 Through the clear, transparent water, Waited vainly for an answer, Long sat waiting for an answer, And repeating loud and louder, "Take my bait, O King of Fishes!" 55 Quiet lay the sturgeon, Nahma, Fanning slowly in the water, Looking up at Hiawatha, Listening to his call and clamor, His unnecessary tumult, 60 Till he wearied of the shouting; And he said to the Kenozha, To the pike, the Maskenozha, " Take the bait of this rude fellow, Break the line of Hiawatha! " 65 In his fingers Hiawatha Felt the loose line jerk and tighten; As he drew it in, it tugged so That the birch-canoe stood endwise, Like a birch log in the water, 70 With the squirrel, Adjidaumo, Perched and frisking on the summit. Full of scorn was Hiawatha When he saw the fish rise upward, Saw the pike, the Maskenozha, 75 Coming nearer, nearer to him. And he shouted through the water, 162 Narrative Poems of Longfellow "Esa! esa! shame upon you! You are but the pike, Kenozha, You are not the fish I wanted, 80 You are not the King of Fishes! " Reehng downward to the bottom Sank the pike in great confusion, And the mighty sturgeon, Nahma, Said to Ugudwash, the sun-fish, 85 To the bream, with scales of crimson, "Take the bait of this great boaster, Break the fine of Hiawatha! " Slowly upward, wavering, gleaming. Rose the Ugudwash, the sun-fish, 90 Seized the line of Hiawatha, Swung with all his weight upon it. Made a whirlpool in the water, Whirled the birch-canoe in circles, Round and round in gurgling eddies, 95 Till the circles in the water Reached the far-off sandy beaches, Till the water-flags and rushes Nodded on the distant margins. But when Hiawatha saw him 100 Slowly rising through the water, Lifting up his disk refulgent. Loud he shouted in derision, "Esa! esa! shame upon you! You are Ugudwash, the sun-fish, 1 05 You are not the fish I wanted. You are not the King of Fishes! " Slowly downward, wavering, gleaming, Sank the Ugudwash, the sun-fish. And again the sturgeon, Nahma, 110 Heard the shout of Hiawatha, Heard his challenge of defiance. The unnecessary tumult. Ringing far across the water. From the white sand of the bottom 115 Up he rose with angry gesture. Quivering in each nerve and filjre. Clashing all his plates of armor, Gleaming bright with all his war-paint; The Song of Hiawatha 163 In his wrath he darted upward, 120 Flashing leaped into the sunshine, Opened his great jaws, and swallowed Both canoe and Hiawatha. Down into that darksome cavern Plunged the headlong Hiawatha, 125 As a log on some black river Shoots and plunges down the rapids, Found himself in utter darkness. Groped about in helpless wonder, Till he felt a great heart beating, 130 Throbbing in that utter darkness. And he smote it in his anger. With his fist, the heart of Nahma, Felt the mighty King of Fishes Shudder through each nerve and fibre, 135 Heard the water gurgle round him As he leaped and staggered through it, Sick at heart, and faint and weary. Crosswise then did Hiawatha Drag his birch-canoe for safety, 140 Lest from out the jaws of Nahma, In the turmoil and confusion. Forth he might be hurled and perish. And the squirrel, Adjidaumo, Frisked and chattered very gayly, 1 45 Toiled and tugged with Hiawatha Till the labor was completed. Then said Hiawatha to him, "O my little friend, the squirrel. Bravely have you toiled to help me; 150 Take the thanks of Hiawatha, And the name which now he gives you; For hereafter and forever Boys shall call you Adjidaumo, Tail-in-air the boys shall call you! " 155 And again the sturgeon, Nahma, Gasped and quivered in the water. Then was still, and drifted landward Till he grated on the pebbles, Till the listening Hiawatha 160 Heard him grate upon the margin, 164 Narrative Poems of Longfellow Felt him strand upon the pebbles, Knew that Nahma, King of Fishes, Lay there dead upon the margin. Then he heard a clang and flapping, 165 As of many wings assembling, Heard a screaming and confusion, As of birds of prey contending. Saw a gleam of light above him, Shining through the ribs of Nahma, 170 Saw the ghttering eyes of sea-gulls. Of Kayoshk, the sea-gulls, peering. Gazing at him through the opening, Heard them saying to each other, '"T is our brother, Hiawatha! " 175 And he shouted from below them, Cried exulting from the caverns; "O ye sea-gulls! O my brothers! I have slain the sturgeon, Nahma; Make the rifts a little larger, 180 With your claws the openings widen, Set me free from this dark prison, And henceforward and forever Men shall speak of your achievements. Calling you Kayoshk, the sea-gulls, 185 Yes, Kayoshk, the Noble Scratchers! " And the wild and clamorous sea-gulls Toiled with beak and claws together. Made the rifts and openings wider In the mighty ribs of Nahma, 190 And from peril and from prison. From the body of the sturgeon. From the peril of the water. They released my Hiawatha. He was standing near his wigwam 195 On the margin of the water. And he called to old Nokomis, Called and beckoned to Nokomis, Pointed to the sturgeon, Nahma, Lying lifeless on the pebbles, 200 With the sea-gulls feeding on him. "I have slain the Mishe-Nahma, Slain the King of Fishesl " said he; The Song of Hiawatha 165 "Lookl the sea-gulls feed upon him, Yes, my friend Kayoshk, the sea-gulls 205 Drive them not away, Nokomis, They have saved me from great peril In the body of the sturgeon; Wait until their meal is ended, Till their craws are full with feasting, 210 Till they homeward fly, at sunset. To their nests among the marshes; Then bring all your pots and kettles. And make oil for us in AVinter." And she waited till the sun set, 215 Till the pallid moon, the night-sun, Rose above the tranquil water. Till Kayoshk, the sated sea-gulls. From their banquet rose with clamor. And across the fiery sunset 220 Winged their way to far-off islands. To their nests among the rushes. To his sleep went Hiawatha, And Nokomis to her labor. Toiling patient in the moonlight, 225 Till the sun and moon changed places. Till the sky was red with sunrise, And Kayoshk, the hungry sea-gulls, Came back from the reedy islands, Clamorous for their morning banquet. 230 Three whole days and nights alternate Old Nokomis and the sea-gulls Stripped the oily flesh of Nahma, Till the waves washed through the rib-bones Till the sea-gulls came no longer, 235 And upon the sands lay nothing But the skeleton of Nahma. IX HIAWATHA AND THE PEARL-FEATHER On the shores of Gitche Gumee, Of the shining Big-Sea-Water, Stood Nokomis, the old woman. 166 Narrative Poems of Longfellow \ \ Pointing with her finger westward, \ 5 O'er the water pointing westward, I To the purple clouds of sunset. i Fiercely the red sun descending \ Burned his way along the heavens, '"i Set the sky on fire behind him, 1 10 As war-parties, when retreating, ! Burn the prairies on their war-trail; ' And the moon, the Night-Sun, eastward, 1 Suddenly starting from his ambush, ; Followed fast those bloody footprints, ^ 15 Followed in that fiery war-trail, i With its glare upon his features. -| And Nokomis, the old woman, ] Pointing with her finger westward, \ Spake these words to Hiawatha: ' 20 " Yonder dwells the great Pearl-Feathery • Mcgissogwon, the Magician, Manito of Wealth and Wampum, \ Guarded by his fiery serpents, '\ Guarded by the black pitch-water. 25 You can see his fiery serpents, ; The Kenabeek, the great serpents, - j Coiling, playing in the water; jj You can see the black pitch-water 'j Stretching far away beyond thom, \ 30 To the purple clouds of sunset! .3 " He it was who slew my father, J By his wicked wiles and cunning, 4 When he from the moon descended, ^l When he came on earth to seek me. ! 35 He, the mightiest of Magicians, « Sends the fever from the marshes, \ Sends the pestilential vapors, ! Sends the poisonous exhalations, \ Sends the white fog from the fen-lands^ '; 40 Sends disease and death among us! •'' "Take your bow, O Hiawatha, j Take your arrows, jasper-headed, >j Take your war-club, Puggawaugun, i And your mittens, Minjekahvvun, • 45 And your birch-canoe for sailing, \ The Song of Hiawatha 167 And the oil of Mishe-Nahma, So to smear its sides, that swiftly You may pass the black pitch-water; Slay this merciless magician, 50 Save the people from the fever That he breathes across the fen-lands. And avenge my father's murder! " Straightway then my Hiawatha Armed himself with all his war-gear, 55 Launched his birch-canoe for sailing; With his palm its sides he patted. Said with glee, "Cheemaun, my darling, O my Birch-Canoe! leap forward, Where you see the fiery serpents, 60 Where you see the black pitch-water! " Forward leaped Cheemaun exulting, And the noble Hiawatha Sang his war-song wild and woful, And above him the war-eagle, 65 The Keneu, the great war-eagle. Master of all fowls with feathers. Screamed and hurtled through the heavens. Soon he reached the fiery serpents. The Kenabeek, the great serpents, 70 Lying huge upon the water, Sparkling, rippling in the water, Lying coiled across the passage, AVith their blazing crests uplifted, Breathing fiery fogs and vapors, 75 So that none could pass beyond them. But the fearless Hiawatha Cried aloud, and spake in this wise: " Let me pass my way, Kenabeek, Let me go upon my journey! " 80 And they answered, hissing fiercely. With their fiery breath made answer: "Back, go back! O Shaugodaya! Back to old Nokomis, Faint-heart!" Then the angry Hiawatha 85 Raised his mighty bow of ash-tree. Seized his arrows, jasper-headed. Shot them fast among the serpents; 168 Narrative Poems of Lorigjellow \ Every twanging of the bow-string i Was a war-cry and a death-cry, 90 Every whizzing of an arrow ; Was a death-song of Kenabeek. ] Weltering in the bloody water, * Dead lay all the fiery serpents, j And among them Hiawatha \ 95 Harmless sailed, and cried exulting: ^ j " Onward, O Cheemaiin, my darling! ' ' Onward to the black pitch-water! " i Then he took the oil of Nahma, i And the bows and sides anointed, | 1 00 Smeared them well with oil, that swiftly \ He might pass the black pitch-water. ; All night long he sailed upon it, " Sailed upon that sluggish water, .' Covered with its mould of ages, - 105 Black with rotting water-rushes, Rank with flags and leaves of lilies, i Stagnant, lifeless, dreary, dismal, \ Lighted by the shimmering moonlight, ' And by will-o'-the-wisps illumined, ; 110 Fires by ghosts of dead men kindled, \ In their weary night-encampments. 4 All the air was white with moonlight, J All the water black with shadow, i And around him the Suggema, : 115 The mosquito, sang his war-song, I And the fire-flies, Wah-wah-taysee, ! Waved their torches to mislead him; ; And the bull-frog, the Dahinda, i Thrust his head into the moonlight, j 120 Fixed his yellow eyes upon him, j Sobbed and sank beneath the surface; \ And anon a thousand whistles, J Answered over all the fen-lands, j And the heron, the Shuh-shuh-gah, j 125 Far off on the reedy margin, J Heralded the hero's coming. | Westward thus fared Hiawatha, Toward the realm of Megissogwon, Toward the land of the Pearl-Feather, The Sojig of Hiawatha 169 130 Till the level moon stared at him, In his face stared pale and haggard, Till the sun was hot behind him, Till it burned upon his shoulders, And before him on the upland 1 35 He could see the Shining Wigwam Of the Manito of Wampum, Of the mightiest of Magicians. Then once more Cheemaun he patted. To his birch-canoe said, "Onward!" 140 And it stirred in all its fibres. And with one great bound of triumph Leaped across the water-lilies, Leaped through tangled flags and rushes, And upon the beach beyond them 145 Dry-shod landed Hiawatha. Straight he took his bow of ash-tree. On the sand one end he rested, ^ With his knee he pressed the middle, Stretched the faithful bow-string tighter, 150 Took an arrow, jasper-headed, Shot it at the Shining Wigwam, Sent it singing as a herald. As a bearer of his message, Of his challenge loud and lofty: 155 "Come forth from your lodge, Pearl-Feather I Hiawatha waits your coming! " Straightway from the Shining Wigwam Came the mighty Megissogwon, Tall of stature, broad of shouider, 160 Dark and terrible in aspect, Clad from head to foot in wampum, Armed with all his warlike weapons. Painted like the sky of morning, Streaked with crimson, blue, and yellow, 165 Crested with great eagle-feathers. Streaming upward, streaming outward. "Well, I know you, Hiawatha!" Cried he in a voice of thunder. In a tone of loud derision. 170 "Hasten back, O Shaugodaya! Hasten back among the women. 170 Narrative Poems of Longfellow Back to old Nokomis, Faint-heartl I will slay you as you stand there, As of old I slew her father! " 175 But my Hiawatha answered, Nothing daunted, fearing nothing: "Big words do not smite like war-clubs, Boastful breath is not a bow-string, Taunts are net so sharp as arrows, 180 Deeds are better things than words are, Actions mightier than boastings! " Then began the greatest battle That the sun had ever looked on, That the war-birds ever witnessed. . 1 185 All a Summer's day it lasted, \ From the sunrise to the sunset; | For the shafts of Hiawatha ■ Harmless hit the shirt of wampum, ^ Harmless fell the blows he dealt it • 190 V/ith his mittens, Minjekahwun, I Harmless fell the heavy war-club; ~ l It could dash the rocks asunder, -I But it could not break the meshes t Of that magic shirt of wampum. j 1 95 Till at sunset Hiawatha, ' j Leaning on his bow of ash-tree, 1 Wounded, weary, and desponding. With his mighty war-club broken, I With his mittens torn and tattered, : 200 And three useless arrows only, j Paused to rest beneath a pine-tree, -. From whose branches trailed the mosses, ■ And whose trunk was coated over I With the Dead-man's Moccasin-leather, 205 With the fungus white and yellow. '\ Suddenly from the boughs above him j Sang the Mama, the woodpecker; ■ "Aim your arrows, Hiawatha, :j| At the head of Megissogwon, ' 210 Strike the tuft of hair upon it, 3 At their roots the long black tresses; I There alone can he be wounded! " "i Winged with feathers, tipped with jasper, 1 The Song of Hiawatha 171 Swift flew Hiawatha's arrow, 215 Just as Megissogwon, stooping, Raised a heavy stone to throw it. Full upon the crown it struck him, At the roots of his long tresses. And he reeled and staggered forward, 220 Plunging like a wounded bison, Yes, like Pezhekce, the bison, When the snow is on the prairie. Swifter flew the second arrow. In the pathway of the other, 225 Piercing deeper than the other. Wounding sorer than the other; And the knees of Megissogwon Shook like windy reeds beneath him, Bent and trembled like the rushes. 230 But the third and latest arrow Swiftest flew, and wounded sorest, And the mighty Megissogwon Saw the fiery eyes of Pauguk, Saw the eyes of Death glare at him, 235 Heard his voice call in the darkness; At the feet of Hiawatha Lifeless lay the great Pearl-Feather, Lay the mightiest of Magicians. Then the grateful Hiawatha 240 Called the Mama, the woodpecker, From his perch among the branches Of the melanchol}^ pine-tree, And, in honor of his service. Stained with blood the tuft of feathers 245 On the little head of Mama; Even to this day he wears it. Wears the tuft of crimson feathers. As a symbol of his service. Then he stripped the shirt of wampum 250 From the back of Megissogwon, As a trophy of the battle. As a signal of his conquest. On the shore he left the body. Half on land and half in water, 255 In the sand his feet were buried, 172 Narrative Poems of Longfellow And his face was in the water. And above him wheeled and clamored The Keneu, the great war-eagle, Sailing round in narrower circles, 260 Hovering nearer, nearer, nearer. From the wigv/am Hiawatha Bore the wealth of Megissogwon, All his wealth of skins and wampum, Furs of bison and of beaver, 265 Furs of sable and of ermine. Wampum belts and strings and pouches, Quivers wrought with beads of wampum, Filled with arrows, silver-headed. Homeward then he sailed exulting, 270 Homeward through the black pitch-water Homeward through the weltering serpents, With the trophies of the battle. With a shout and song of triumph. On the shore stood old Nokomis, 275 On the shore stood Chibiabos, And the very strong man, Kwasind, Waiting for the hero's coming, Listening to his song of triumph. And the people of the village 280 Welcomed him with songs and dances, Made a joyous feast and shouted: ^ " Honor be to Hiawatha ! He has slain the great Pearl-Feather, Slain the mightiest of Magicians, 285 Him, who sent the fiery fever, Sent the white fog from the fen-lands, Sent disease and death among us! " Ever dear to Hiawatha Was the memory of Mama! 290 And in token of his friendship, As a mark of his remembrance, He adorned and decked his pipe-stem With the crimson tuft of feathers, With the blood-red crest of Mama 295 But the wealth of Megissogwon, All the trophies of the battle, He divided with his people, Shared it equally among them. D The Song of Hiawatha 173 HIAWATHA S WOOING "As unto the bow the cord is, So unto the man is woman: Though she bends him, she obeys him, Though she draws him, yet she follows, Useless each without the other! " Thus the youthful Hiawatha Said within himself and pondered. Much perplexed by various feelings. Listless, longing, hoping, fearing, Dreaming still of Minnehaha, Of the lovely Laughing Water, In the land of the Dacotahs. "Wed a maiden of your people," Warning said the old Nokomis; "Go not eastward, go not westward, For a stranger, whom we know not! Like a fire upon the hearth-stone Is a neighbor's homely daughter, Like the starlight or the moonlight Is the handsomest of strangers! " Thus dissuading spake Nokomis, And my Hiawatha answered Only this: " Dear old Nokomis, Very pleasant is the firelight, But I like the starlight better, Better do I like the moonlight! " Gravely then said old Nokomis: "Bring not here an idle maiden. Bring not here a useless woman, Hands unskilful, feet unwilling; Bring a wife with nimble fingers, Heart and hand that move together, Feet that run on willing errands! " Smiling answered Hiawatha: "In the land of the Dacotahs 174 Narrative Poems of Longfellow Lives the Arrow-maker's daughter, Minnehaha, Laughing Water, Handsomest of all the women. I will bring her to your wigwam, 40 She shall run upon your errands, Be your starlight, moonlight, firelight, Be the sunlight of my people! " Still dissuading said Nokomis: \ " Bring not to my lodge a stranger ■ 45 From the land of the Dacotahsl i Very fierce are the Dacotahs, \ Often is there war between us, ' There are feuds yet unforgotten, ■ "j Wounds that ache and still may openl " 50 Laughing answered Hiawatha: ; "For that reason, if no other, Would I wed the fair Dacotah, That our tribes might be united. That old feuds might be forgotten, 55 And old wounds be healed foreverl " Thus departed Hiawatha To the land of the Dacotahs, To the land of handsome women; Striding over moor and meadow, 60 Through interminable forests. Through uninterrupted silence. With his moccasins of magic, At each stride a mile he measured; Yet the way seemed long before him, 65 And his heart outran his footsteps; And he journeyed without resting, Till he heard the cataract's laughter. Heard the Falls of Minnehaha Calling to him through the silence. 70 "Pleasant is the sound! " he murmured, "Pleasant is the voice that calls me!" On the outskirts of the forests, 'Twixt the shadow and the sunshine. Herds of fallow deer were feeding, 75 But they saw not Hiawatha; To his bow he whispered, "Fail not!" To his arrow whispered, "Swerve not!" The Song of Hiawatha 175 Sent it singing on its errand, To the red heart of the roebuck; 80 Threw the deer across his shoulder And sped forward without pausing. At the doorway of his wigwam Sat the ancient Arrow-maker, In the land of the Dacotahs, 85 Making arrow-heads of jasper, Arrow-heads of chalcedony. At his side, in all her beauty, Sat the lovely Minnehaha, Sat his daughter, Laughing Water, 90 Plaiting mats of flags and rushes; Of the past the old man's thoughts wore, And the maiden's of the future. He was thinking, as he sat there, Of the days when with such arrows 95 He had struck the deer and bison. On the Muskoday, the meadow; Shot the wild goose, flying southward, On the wing, the clamorous Wawa; Thinking of the great war-parties, 100 How they came to buy his arrows. Could not fight without his arrows. Ah, no more such noble warriors Could be found on earth as they were; Now the men were all like women, 105 Only used their tongues for weaponsi She was thinking of a hunter, From another tribe and country. Young and tall and very handsome. Who one morning, in the Spring-time, 110 Came to buy her father's arrows, Sat and rested in the wigwam. Lingered long about the doorway. Looking back as he departed. She had heard her father praise him, 115 Praise his courage and his wisdom; Would he come again for arrows To the Falls of Minnehaha? On the mat her hands lay idle, And her eyes were very dreamy. 17G Narrative Poems of Longfeltov) 120 Through their thoughts they heard a footstep, Heard a rusthng in the branches, And with glowing cheek and forehead, With the deer upon his shoulders, Suddenly from out the woodlands 125 Hiawatha stood before them. Straight the ancient Arrow-maker Look up gravely from his labor, Laid aside the unfinished arrow, Bade him enter at the doorway, 130 Saying, as he rose to meet him, "Hiawatha, you are welcomel" At the feet of Laughing Water Hiawatha laid his burden, Threw the red deer from his shoulders; 135 And the maiden looked up at him, Looked up from her mat of rushes. Said with gentle look and accent, "You are welcome, Hiawatha! " Very spacious was the wigwam, 140 Made of deer-skins dressed and whitened, With the Gods of the Dacotahs Drawn and painted on its curtains, And so tall the doorway, hardly Hiawatha stooped to enter. 145 Hardly touched his eagle-feathers As he entered at the doorway. Then uprose the Laughing Water, From the ground fair Minnehaha Laid aside her mat unfinished, 150 Brought forth food and set before them, Water brought them from the brooklet. Gave them food in earthen vessels. Gave them drink in bowls of basswood. Listened while the guest was speaking, 155 Listened while her father answered, But not once her lips she opened. Not a single word she uttered. Yes, as in a dream she listened To the words of Hiawatha, ir>0 As he talked of old Nokomis, Who had nursed him in his childhood, The Song of Hiawatha 177 As he told of his companions, Chibiabos, the musician, And the very strong man, Kwasind, 165 And of happiness and plenty In the land of the Ojibways, In the pleasant land and peaceful. "After many years of warfare. Many years of strife and bloodshed, 170 There is peace between the Ojibways And the tribe of the Dacotahs," Thus continued Hiawatha, And then added, speaking slowly, " That this peace may last forever, 175 And our hands be clasped more closely, And our hearts be more united, Give me as my wife this maiden, Minnehaha, Laughing Water, Loveliest of Dacotah women! " 1 so And the ancient Arrow-maker Paused a moment ere he answered. Smoked a little while in silence, Looked at Hiawatha proudly, Fondly looked at Laughing Water, 185 And made answer very gravely: "Yes, if Minnehaha wishes; Let your heart speak, Minnehaha! " And the lovely Laughing Water Seemed more lovely, as she stood there, 190 Neither willing nor reluctant. As she went to Hiawatha, Softly took the seat beside him, While she said, and blushed to say it, "I will follow you, my husband! " 195 This was Hiawatha's wooing! Thus it was he won the daughter Of the ancient Arrow-maker, In the land of the Dacotahs! From the wigwam he departed, 200 Leading with him Laughing Water; Hand in hand they went together. Through the woodland and the meadow. Left the old man standing lonely 178 Narrative Poe7ns of Longfellow ' At the doorway of his wigwam, \ 205 Heard the Falls of Minnehaha • Calling to them from the distance, ' ' Crying to them from afar off, "Fare thee well, O' Minnehaha! " A And the ancient Arrow-maker j 210 Turned again unto his labor, j Sat down by his sunny doorway, i Murmuring to himself, and saying: | "Thus it is our daughters leave us, | Those we love, and those who love usl ] 215 Just when they have learned to help us, i When we are old and lean upon them, ; Comes a youth with flaunting feathers, I With his flute of reeds, a stranger ■: Wanders piping through the village, j 220 Beckons to the fairest maiden, ^ And she follows where he leads her, -\ Leaving all things for the stranger! " . -^ Pleasant was the journey homeward, ^ Through interminable forests, ^ ;: 225 Over meadows, over mountain, 'C' Over river, hill, and hollow y Short it seemed to ELiawatha, 'tj Though they journeyed very slowly, ^ Though his pace he checked and slackened f 230 To the steps of Laughing Water. Over wide and rushing rivers . ! In his arms he bore the maiden; Light he thought her as a feather, ; As the plume upon his head-gear; j 235 Cleared the tangled pathway for her, ' Bent aside the swaying branches, j Made at night a lodge of branches, j And a bed with boughs of hemlock, i And a fire before the doorway 1 240 With the dry cones of the pine-tree. \ All the travelling winds went with them, j O'er the meadows, through the forest; j] All the stars of night looked at them. Watched with sleepless eyes their slumber; 245 From his ambush in the oak-tree The Song of Hiawatha 179 Peeped the squirrel, Adjidaumo, Watched with eager eyes the lovers; And the rabbit, the Wabasso, Scampered from the path before them, 250 Peering, peeping from his burrow, Sat erect upon his haunches, j Watched with curious eyes the lovers. Pleasant was the journey homeward! AH the birds sang loud and sweetly 255 Songs of happiness and heart's-ease; Sang the blue-bird, the Owaissa, "Happy are you, Hiawatha, Having such a wife to love you! " Sang the robin, the Opechee, 260 ''Happy are you. Laughing Water, Having such a noble husband! " From the sky the sun benignant Looked upon them through the branches, Saying to them, "O my children, 265 Love is sunshine, hate is shadow. Life -s checkered shade and sunshine. Rule by love, O Hiawatha!" From the sky the moon looked at them, Filled the lodge with mystic splendors, 270 Whispered to them, "O my children, Day is restless, night is quiet, Man imperious, woman feeble; Hal-f is mine, although I follow; Rule by patience, Laughing Water! " 275 Thus it w^as they journeyed homeward; Thus it was that Hiawatha To the lodge of old Nokomis Brought the moonlight, starlight, fireliglit, Brought the sunshine ot his people, 280 Minnehaha, Laughing Water, Handsomest of all the women In the land of the Dacotahs, In the land of handsome women. 180 Narrative Poems of Longfellow XI Hiawatha's wedding-feast You shall hear how Paii-Piik-Keewis How the handsome Yenadizze Danced at Hiawatha's wedding; How the gentle Chibiabos, 5 He the sweetest of mnsicians, Sang his songs of love and longing; How lagoo, the great boaster, He the marvellous story-teller, Told his tales of strange adventure, 10 That the feast might be more joyous, That the time might pass more gayly. And the guests be more contented. Sumptuous was the feast Nokomis Made at Hiawatha's wedding; 15 All the bowls were made of bass-wood, White and polished very smoothly, All the spoons of horn of bison, Black and polished very smoothly. She had sent through all the village 20 Messengers with wands of willow, As a sign of invitation, As a token of the feasting; And the wedding guests assembled, Clad in all their richest raiment, 25 Robes of fur and belts of wampum, Splendid with their paint and plumage, Beautiful with beads and tassels. First they ate the sturgeon, Nahma, And the pike, the Maskenozha, 30 Caught and cooked by old Nokomis: Then on pemican they feasted, Pemican and buffalo marrow, Haunch of deer and hump of bison, Yellow cakes of the Mondamin, 35 And the wild rice of the river. But the gracious Hiawatha, And the lovely Laughing Yv^ater, And the careful old Nokomis, The Song of Hiawatha 181 Tasted not the food before them, 40 Only waited on the others, Only served their guests in silence. And when all the guests had finished, Old Nokomis, brisk and busy, From an ample pouch of otter, 45 Filled the red stone pipes for smoking With tobacco from the South-land, Mixed with bark of the red willow, And with herbs and leaves of fragrance. Then she said, "O Pau-Puk-Keewis, 50 Dance for us your merry dances. Dance the Beggar's Dance to please us, That the feast may be more joyous. That the time may pass more gayly, And our guests be more contented! " 55 Then the handsome Pau-Puk-Keewis, He the idle Yenadizze, He the merry mischief-maker, Whom the people called the Storm-Fool, Rose among the guests assembled. 60 Skilled was he in sports and pastimes, In the merry dance of snow-shoes. In the play of quoits and ball-play; Skilled was he in games of hazard. In all games of skill and hazard, 65 Pugasaing, the Bowl and Counters, Kuntassoo. the Game of Plum -stones. Though the warriors called him Faint-heart, Call him coward, Shaugodaya, Idler, gambler, Yenadizze, 70 Little heeded he their jesting, Little cared he for their insults, For the women and the maidens Loved the handsome Pau-Puk-Keewis. He was dressed in shirt of doe-skin, 75 White and soft, and fringed with ermine. All inwrought with beads of wampum; He was dressed in deer-skin leggings, Fringed with hedgehog quills and ermine. And in moccasins of buck-skin, 80 Thick with quills and beads embroidered. Ig2 Narrative Poems of LongfeUoiv On his head were phmies of swan's down, On his heels were tails of foxes, In one hand a fan of feathers, And a pipe was in the other. 85 Barred with streaks of red and yellow, Streaks of blue and bright vermilion, Shone the face of Pavi-Puk-Keewis. From his forehead fell his tresses, ^ Smooth, and parted like a woman's, 90 Shining bright with oil, and plaited, Hung with braids of scented grasses, As among the guests assembled. To the sound of flutes and singing. To the sound of drums and voices, 95 Rose the handsome Pau-Puk-Keewis, And began his mystic dances, First he danced a solemn measure, Very slow in step and gesture, In and out among the pine-trees, 100 Through the shadows and the sunshme, Treading softly like a panther. Then more swiftly and still swifter, Whirling, spinning round in circles, Leaping'o'er the guests assembled, 105 Eddying rovmd and round the wigwam^ Till the leaves went whirling with him, Till the dust and wind together Swept in eddies round about him, Then along the sandy margin 110 Of the lake, the Big-Sea-Water, On he sped with frenzied gestures, Stamped" upon the sand, and tossed it Wildly in the air around him; Till the wind became a whirlwind, 115 Till the sand was blown and sifted Like great snowdrifts o'er the landscape, Heaping all the shores with Sand Dunes, Sand Hills of the Nagow Wudjoo! Thus the merry Pau-Puk-Keewis 120 Danced his Beggar's Dance to please the in, And, returning, sat down laughing There among the guests assembled, The Song of Hiawatha 183 Sat and fanned himself serenely With his fan of turkey-feathers. 125 Then they said to Chibiabos, To the friend of Hiawatha, To the sweetest of all singers, To the best of all musicians, "Sing to us, O Chibiabos! 130 Songs of love and songs of longing, That the feast may be more joyous, That the time may pass more gayly, And our guests be more contented! " And the gentle Chibiabos 135 Sang in accents sweet and tender. Sang in tones of deep emotion, Songs of love and songs of longing; Looking still at Hiawatha, Looking at fair Laughing Water, 140 Sang he softly, sang in this wise: ''Onaway! Awake, beloved! Thou the wild-flower of the forest! Thou the wild bird of the prairie! Thou with eyes so soft and fawn-likel 145 "If thou only lookest at me, I am happy, I am happy. As the lilies of the prairie, When they feel the dew upon them! " Sweet thy breath is as the fragrance 150 Of the wild-flowers in the morning. As their fragrance is at evening. In the Moon when leaves, are falling. "Does not all the blood within me Leap to meet thee, leap to meet thee, 155 As the springs to meet the sunshine, In the Moon when nights are brightest? "Onaway! my heart sings to thee. Sings with joy when thou art near me, As the sighing, singing branches 160 In the pleasant Moon of Strawberries! " When thou art not pleased, beloved, Then my heart is sad and darkened, As the shining river darkens. When the clouds drop shadows on it! 184 Narrative Poems of Longfellow 165 "When thou smilest, my beloved, Then my troubled heart is brightened, As in sunshine gleam the ripples That the cold wind makes in rivers. "Smiles the earth, and smile the waters, 170 Smile the cloudless skies above us, But I lose the way of smiling When thou are no longer near me! "I myself, myself! behold me! Blood of my beating heart, behold me! 175 O awake, awake, beloved! Onaway! awake, beloved! " Thus the gentle Chibiabos Sang his song of love and longing; And lagoo, the great boaster, 180 He the marvellous story-teller. He the friend of old Nokomis, Jealous of the sweet musician, Jealous of the applause they gave him, Saw in all the eyes around him, 185 Saw in all their looks and gestures. That the wedding guests assembled Longed to hear his pleasant stories, His immeasurable falsehoods. Very boastful was lagoo; 190 Never heard he an adventure But himself had met a greater; Never any deed of daring But himself had done a bolder; Never any marvellous story 195 But himself could tell a stranger. Would you listen to his boasting, Would you only give him credence, No one ever shot an arrow Half so far and high as he had; 200 Ever caught so many fishes. Ever killed so many reindeer, Ever trapped so many beaver! None could run so fast as he could- None could dive so deep as he could, 205 None could swim so far as he could; None had made so many journeys, The Song of Hiawatha 185 None had seen so many wonders, As this wonderful lagoo, As this marvellous story-teller! 210 Thus his name became a by-word And a jest among the people; And whene'er a boastful hunter Praised his own address too highly, Or a warrior, home returning, 215 Talked too much of his achievements. All his hearers cried, "lagoo! Here's lagoo come among us! " He it was who carved the cradle Of the httle Hiawatha, 220 Carved its framework out of linden, Bound it strong with reindeer sinews He it was who taught him later How to make his bows and arrows. How to make the bows of ash-tree, 225 And the arrows of the oak-tree. So among the guests assembled At my Hiawatha's wedding Sat lagoo, old and ugly. Sat the marvellous story-teller. 230 And they said, "O good lagoo. Tell us now a tale of wonder. Tell us of some strange adventure, That the feast may be more joyous, That the time may pass more gayly, 235 And our guests be more contented!" And lagoo answered straightway, "You shall hear a tale of wonder, You shall hear the strange adventures Of Osseo, the Magician, 240 From the Evening Star descended." XII THE SON OF THE EVENING STAR Can it be the sun descending O'er the level plain of water? Or the Red Swan floating, flying, "VVounded by the magic arrow, 186 Narrative Poems of Longfellow 5 Staining all the waves with crimson, With the crimson of its hfe-blood, Fining all the air with splendor, With the splendor of its plumage? Yes; it is the sun descending, 10 Sinking down into the water; All the sky is stained with purple, All the water flushed with crimson! No; it is the Red Swan floating, Diving down beneath the water; 15 To the sky its wings are lifted, With its blood the waves are reddenedl Over it the Star of Evening Melts and trembles through the purple, Hangs suspended in the twilight. 20 No; it is a bead of wampum On the robes of the Great Spirit, As he passes through the twilight. Walks in silence through the heavensl This with joy beheld lagoo 25 And he said in haste: "Behold it! See the sacred Star of Evening! You shall hear a tale of wonder, Hear the story of Osseo, Son of the Evening Star, Osseo! 30 "Once, in days no more remembered, Ages nearer the beginning. When the heavens were closer to us. And the Gods were more familiar, In the North-land lived a hunter, 35 With ten young and comely daughters. Tall and lithe as wands of willow; Only Oweenee, the youngest, She the wilful and the wayward. She the silent, dreamy maiden, 40 Was the fairest of the sisters. "All these women married warriors, Married brave and haughty husbands; Only Oweenee, the youngest, Laughed and flouted all her lovers, 45 All her young and handsome suitors, And then married old Osseo, The Song oj Hiawatha 1S7 Old Osseo, poor and ugly, Broken with age and weak with coughing, Always coughing hke a squirrel. 50 "Ah, but beautiful within him Was the spirit of Osseo, From the Evening Star descended, Star of Evening, Star of Woman, Star of tenderness and passion! 55 All its fire was in his bosom, All its beauty in his spirit, All its mystery in his being, All its splendor in his language! "And her lovers, the rejected, 60 Handsome men with belts of wampum, Handsome men with paint and feathers, Pointed at her in derision, Followed her with jest and laughter. But she said: *I care not for you, 65 Care not for your belts of wampum, Care not for your paint and feathers, Care not for your jests and laughter; I am happy with Osseo! ' "Once, to some great feast invited, 70 Through the damp and dusk of evening Walked together the ten sisters. Walked together with their husbands; Slowly followed old Osseo, With fair Oweenee beside him; 75 All the others chatted gayly, These two only walked in silence. "At the western sky Osseo Gazed intent, as if imploring. Often stopped and gazed imploring 80 At the trembling Star of Evening, At the tender Star of Woman; And they heard him murmur softly, ^ Ah, showain nemeshin, Xosa! Pity, pity me, my father! ' 85 " 'Listen! ' said the eldest sister, 'He is praying to his father! What a pity that the old man Does not stumble in the pathway, 188 Narrative Poems of Longfellow Does not break his neck by falling! ' 90 And they laughed till all the forest Rang with their unseemly laughter. " On their pathway through the woodlands Lay an oak, by storms uprooted, Lay the great trunk of an oak-tree, 95 Buried half in leaves and mosses. Mouldering, crumbling, huge, and hollow. And Osseo, when he saw it, Gave a shout, a cry of anguish, Leaped into its yawning cavern, 100 At one end went in an old man. Wasted, wrinkled, old, and ugly; From the other came a young man, Tall and straight and strong and handsome. "Thus Osseo was transfigured, 105 Thus restored to youth and beauty; But, alas for good Osseo, And for Oweenee, the faithful! Strangely, too, was she transfigured. Changed into a weak old woman, 110 With a staff she tottered onward, Wasted, wrinkled, old, and ugly! And the sisters and their husbands Laughed until the echoing forest Rang with their unseemly laughter. 115 "But Osseo turned not from her, Walked with slower step beside her, Took her hand, as brown and withered As an oak-leaf is in Winter, Called her sweetheart, Nenemoosha, 120 Soothed her with soft words of kindness, Till they reached the lodge of feasting, Till they sat down in the wigwam. Sacred to the Star of Evening, To the tender Star of Woman. I 125 "Wrapt in visions, lost in dreaming, At the banquet sat Osseo; ^ All were merry, all were happy, i All were joyous but Osseo. < Neither food nor drink he tasted, j 130 Neither did he speak nor hsten, j The Song of Hiawatha 189 But as one bewildered sat he, Looking dreamily and sadly, First at Oweenee, then upward At the gleaming sky above them. 135 "Then a voice was heard, a whisper, Coming from the starry distance. Coming from the empty vastness, Low, and musical, and tender; And the voice said: *0 Osseo! 140 O my son, my best beloved! Broken are the spells that bound you. All the charms of the magicians. All the magic powers of evil; Come to me; ascend, Osseo! 145 "'Taste the food that stands before you: It is blessed and enchanted, It has magic virtues in it. It will change you to a spirit. All your bowls and all your kettles 150 Shall be wood and clay no longer; But the bowls be changed to wampum, And the kettles shall be silver; They shall shine hke shells of scarlet, Like the fire shall gleam and glimmer. 155 "'And the women shall no longer Bear the dreary doom of labor, But be changed to birds, and glisten With the beauty of the starlight. Painted with the dusky splendors 160 Of the skies and clouds of evening! ' "What Osseo heard as whispers. What as words he comprehended. Was but music to the others, Music as of birds afar off, 165 Of the whippoorwill afar off, Of the lonely Wawonaissa Singing in the darksome forest. " Then the lodge began to tremble, Straight began to shake and tremble, 170 Alid they felt it rising, rising, Slowly through the air ascending, From the darkness of the tree-tops 190 Narrative Poems of Longfellow Forth into the dewy starhght, Till it passed the topmost branches; 175 And behold! the wooden dishes All were changed to shells of scarletl And behold! the earthen kettles All were changed to bowls of silver! And the roof-poles of the wigwam 180 Were as glittering rods of silver, And the roof of bark upon them As the shining shards of beetles. "Then Osseo gazed around him, And he saw the nine fair sisters, 185 All the sisters and their husbands, Changed to birds of various plumage. Some were jays and some were magpies. Others thrushes, others blackbirds; And they hopped, and sang, and twittered, 190 Perked and fluttered all their feathers, Strutted in their shining plumage. And their tails like fans unfolded. " Only Oweenee, the youngest, "Was not changed, but sat in silence, 195 Wasted, wrinkled, old, and ugly. Looking sadly at the others; Till Ossco, gazing upward, Gave another cry of anguish, Such a cry as he had uttered 200 By the oak-tree in the forest. "Then returned her youth and beauty. And her soiled and tattered garments Were transformed to robes of ermine, And her staff became a feather, 205 Yes, a shining silver feather! " And again the wigwam trembled, Swayed and rushed through airy currents, Through transparent cloud and vapor. And amid celestial splendors 210 On the Evening Star alighted, As a snow-flake falls on snow-flake. As a leaf drops on a river, As the thistle-down on water. "Forth with cheerful words of welcome The Song of Hiawatha 1^1 915 Came the father of Osseo, He with radiant locks of silver, He with eyes serene and tender. And he said: ' My son, Osseo, Hang the cage of birds you bring there, 990 Hang the cage with rods of silver, And the birds with glistening feathers. At the doorway of my wigwam. " At the door he hung the bird-cage, And they entered in and gladly 225 Listened to Osseo 's father, Ruler of the Star of Evening, Ashe said: 'O my Osseo! I have had compassion on you, Given you back your youth and beauty, 230 Into birds of various plumage Changed your sisters and their husbands Changed them thus because they mocked you In the figure of the old man In that aspect sad and wrinkled, 235 Could not see your heart of passion. Could not see your youth immortal; Only Oweenee, the faithtul, Saw your naked heart and loved you. " 'In the lodge that glimmers yonder In the little star that twinkles Through the vapors, on the lett hand Lives the envious Evil Spirit, The Wabeno, the magician. Who transformed you to an old man. Take heed lest his beams fall on you, For the rays he darts around him Are the power of his enchantment, Are the arrows that he uses. " Many years, in peace and quiet, 250 On the peaceful Star of Evening Dw^elt Osseo with his father; Many years, in song and flutter. At the doorway of the wigwam, Hung the cage with rods ot silver, 255 And fair Oweenee, the faithful, Bore a son unto Osseo, 240 245 II 192 Narrative Poems of Longfellow With the beauty of his mother, With the courage of his father. " And the boy grew up and prospered, 260 And Osseo, to deUght him, Made him little bows and arrows, Opened the great cage of silver, And let loose his aunts and uncles. All those birds with glossy feathers, 265 For his little son to shoot at. " Round and round they wheeled and darted, Filled the Evening Star with music. With their songs of joy and freedom; Filled the Evening Star with splendor, 270 With the fluttering of their plumage; Till the boy, the little hunter, Bent his bow and shot an arrow, Shot a swift and fatal arrow. And a bird, with shining feathers 275 At his feet fell wounded sorely. "But, O wondrous transformation! 'Twas no bird he saw before him, 'Twas a beautiful young woman. With the arrow in her bosom! 280 "When her blood fell on the planet, On the sacred Star of Evening, Broken was the spell of magic. Powerless was the strange enchantment, And the youth, the fearless bowman, 285 Suddenly felt himself descending, Held by unseen hands, but sinking Downward through the empty spaces. Downward through the clouds and vapors, Till he rested on an island, 290 On an island green and grassy, Yonder in the Big-Sea- Water. "After him he saw descending All the birds with shining feathers. Fluttering, falling, wafted downward, 295 Like the painted leaves of Autumn; And the lodge with poles of silver, j With its roof like wings of beetles, i Like the shining shards of beetles, 1 The Song of Hiawatha 193 By the winds of heaven uplifted, 300 Slowly sank upon the island, Bringing back the good Osseo, Bringing Oweenee, the faithful. ''Then the birds, again transfigured, Reassumed the shape of mortals, 305 Took their shape, but not their stature; They remained as Little People, Like the pygmies, the Puk-Wudjics, And on pleasant nights of Summer, When the Evening Star was shining, 310 Hand in hand they danced together On the island's craggy headlands. On the sand-beach low and level. ''Still their glittering lodge is seen there, On the tranquil Summer evenings, 315 And upon the shore the fisher Sometimes hears their happy voices, Sees them dancing in the starlight!" When the story was completed. When the wondrous tale was ended, 320 Looking round upon his listeners. Solemnly lagoo added: "There are great men, I have knov/n r,uch. Whom their people understand not, Whom they even make a jest of, 325 Scoff and jeer at in derision. • From the story of Osseo Let us learn the fate of jesters! " All the wedding guests delighted Listened to the marvellous story, 330 Listened laughing and applauding, And they whispered to each other, , "Does he mean himself, I wonder?^ And are we the aunts and uncles?" Then again sang Chibiabos, 335 Sang a song of love and longing. In those accents sweet and tender, In those tones of pensive sadness. Sang a maiden's lamentation For her lover, her Algonquin. 340 " When 1 think of my beloved. ^'^'^ -y<'rnttiir I'ocms of Lofu/fcllow Ah iiic! think of my hclovod, ^\ h(>ii my ln>;ni is iliinkin^r of him, () my s\V(M>(h(<;n(, my Al^oiKniin! "Ah iiK-! whni 1 |);ir((Ml from him •■^•15 Roimd^ my ii,.ck h(> huiio- ihc. WMinpii'm As a j)I(>(li;(>, the snow-white w;ini|>iim, () my sw(>('f heart, my AI,i!;on(|ii;n! "I will «io with yo'ii, lu> whisj.crcd, Ah me! to your nativ(> country; •i'yO Lot m(« o;o with you, lu« whispoml, () my sw(>(>l heart, my Alred, Ah me! is my native country, :ir,5 () my SAveetheart. my Al<,ron(iuin! "When 1 looked hack to hehold him W here we parted, to hehold him. Alter me he still was gazing, () my sweetheart, my Algonquin! •^''^' " l^y the tree he sfill was standing, iiy the fallen tree was standing, That had dropped into the water, () my sweetheart, my AlgoiKpnii!' " When I think of 'my heloved •■^fi.'') Ah me! think of my Ix'loved, When my heart is thiiddng of him, () my sweetheart, my Algoncpnn! "' Such was Hiawatha's Wedding, Such th<' d:inc(> of Pau-Puk-K'eewis, •i~0 Such the story of lagoo. Such the songs of ("hil.iahos; Thus th(> wedding hampu't ended, And the wedding guests deitarted', Leaving Hiawatha happy :<75 \\-ith the night and Miniiehaha. XIII BLESSING THE COUN-FIELDS SiNfj, O Song of Hiawatha, Of the hap|)y days that followed, III the land of the Ojihways, The Sony of Hiawatha 196 In the pleasant land and peaceful! 5 Sing the mysteries of iMondaniin, »Sin 160 From his doorway Hiawatha >#' Saw it burning in the forest, Lighting up the gloomy hemlocks; From his sleepless bed uprising, From the bed of Minnehaha, 238 Narrative Poems of Longfellow 165 Stood and watched it at the doorway, That it might not be extinguished, Might not leave her in the darkness. ''Farewell!" said he, "Minnehaha! Farewell, O my Laughing Water! 170 All my heart is buried with you, All my thoughts go onward with youl Come not back again to suffer, Come not back again to labor, Where the Famine and the Fever 175 Wear the heart and waste the body. Soon my task will be completed. Soon your footsteps I shall follow To the Islands of the Blessed, To the Kingdom of Ponemah, 180 To the land of the Hereafter! " XXI THE WHITE man's FOOT In his lodge beside a river. Close beside a frozen river, Sat an old man, sad and lonely. White his hair was as a snow-drift; 5 Dull and low his fire was burning, And the old man shook and trembled. Folded in his. Waubewyon, In his tattered, white-skin-wrapper, Hearing nothing but the tempest 10 As it roared along the forest, Seeing nothing but the snow-storm. As it whirled and hissed and drifted. All the coals were white with ashes And the fire was slowly dying, 15 As a young man, walking lightlj''. At the open doorway entered. Red with blood of youth his cheeks wore, Soft his eyes, as stars in Spring-time, Bound his forehead was with grasses; 20 Bound and plumed with scented grasses, The Song of Hiawatha 239 On his lips a smile of beauty, Filling all the lodge with sunshine, In his hand a bunch of blossoms Filling all the lodge with sweetness. 25 "Ah, my son! " exclaimed the old man, "Happy are my eyes to see you. Sit here on the mat beside me, Sit here by the dying embers. Let us pass the night together. 30 Tell me of your strange adventures, Of the lands where you have travelled; I will tell you of my prowess. Of my many deeds of wonder." From his pouch he drew his peace-pipe, 35 Very old and strangely fashioned; Made of red stone was the pipe-head, And the stem a reed with feathers; Filled the pipe with bark of willow. Placed a burning coal upon it, 40 Gave it to his guest, the stranger. And began to speak in this wise: "When I blow my breath about me, When I breathe upon the landscape. Motionless are all the rivers, 45 Hard as stone becomes the water! " And the young man answered, smiling: "When I blow my breath about me, When I breathe upon the landscape Flowers spring up o'er all the meadows, 50 Singing, onward rush the rivers! " "When I shake my hoary tresses," Said the old man, darkly frowning, "All the land with snow is covered; All the leaves from all the branches 55 Fall and fade and die and wither. For I breathe, and lo! they are not. From the waters and the marshes Rise the wild goose and the heron, Fly away to distant regions, 60 For I speak, and lo! they are not. And where'er my footsteps wander, All the wild beasts of the forest 240 Narrative Poems oj Longfellow Hide themselves in holes and caverns, And the earth becomes as flint-stone! '* 65 ''When I shake my flowing ringlets," Said the young man, softly laughing, " Showers of rain fall warm and welcome, Plants lift up their heads rejoicing, Back unto their lakes and marshes 70 Come the wild goose and the heron. Homeward shoots the arrowy swallow, Sing the blue-bird and the robin, And where'er my footsteps wander, All the meadows wave with blossoms, 75 All the woodlands ring with music. All the trees are dark with foliage! " While they spake, the night departed; From the distant realms of Wabun, From his shining lodge of silver, 80 Like a warrior robed and painted. Came the sun, and said "Behold me! Gheezis, the great sun, behold me! " Then the old man's tongue was speechless. And the air grew warm and pleasant, 85 And upon the wigwam sweetly Sang the blue-bird and the ro))in, And the stream began to murmur. And a scent of growing grasses Through the lodge was gently wafted. 90 And Segwun, the youthful stranger, More distinctly in the daylight Saw the icy face before him; It was Peboan, the Winter! From his eyes the tears were flowing, 95 As from melting lakes the streamlets, And his body shrunk and dwindled As the shouting sun ascended. Till into the air it faded. Till into the ground it vanished. 100 And the young man saw before him. On the hearthstone of the wigwam, Where the fire had smoked and smouldered, Saw the earliest flower of Spring-time, Saw the beauty of the Spring-time, The Song of Hiawatha 241 105 Saw the Miskodeed in blossom. Thus it was that in the Northland After that unheard-of coldness, That intolerable winter, Came the Spring with all its splendor, 110 All its birds and all its blossoms, All its flowers and leaves and grasses. Sailing on the wind to northward. Flying in great flocks, like arrows. Like huge arrows shot through heaven, 115 Passed the swan, the Mahnahbezee, Speaking almost as a man speaks; And in long lines waving, bending Like a bow-string snapped asunder. Came the white goose, Waw-be-wawa; 120 And in pairs, or singly flying, Mahng the loon, with clangorous pinions, The blue heron, the Shuh-shuh-gah, And the grouse, the Mushkodasa. In the thickets and the meadows 125 Piped the blue-bird, the Owaissa, On the summit of the lodges Sang the robin, the Opechee, In the covert of the pine-trees Cooed the pigeon, the Omeme, 130 And the sorrowing Hiawatha, Speechless in his infinite sorrow. Heard their voices calling to him. Went forth from his gloomy doorway, Stood and gazed into the heaven, 135 Gazed upon the earth and waters. From his wanderings far to eastward, From the regions of the morning. From the shining land of Wabun, Homeward now returned lagoo, 140 The great traveller, the great boaster. Full of new and strange adventures. Marvels many and many wonders. And the people of the village Listened to him as he told them 145 Of his marvellous adventures, Laughing answered him in this wise: 242 Narrative Poer/is of Longfellow "Ugh! it is indeed la goo! No one else beholds such wonders! " He had seen, he said, a water 150 Bigger than the Big-Sea-Water, Broader than the Gitche Gumee, Bitter so that none could drink it! At each other looked the warriors, Looked the women at each other, 155 Smiled, and said, "It cannot be so! Kaw! " they said, "it cannot be sol " O'er it, said he, o'er this water Came a great canoe with pinions, A canoe with wings came flying, 1 no Bigger than a grove of pine-trees, Taller than the tallest tree-tops! And the old men and the women Looked and tittered at each other; "Kaw!" they said, "we don't believe it!" 165 From its mouth, he said, to greet him, Game Waywassimo, the lightning, Game the thunder, Annemeekee! And the warriors an matchlock. Short of stature he was, but strongly built and athletic, Broad in the shoulders, deep-chested, with muscles and sinews of iron; Brown as a nut was his face, but his russet beard was already _- Flaked with patches of snow, as hedges sometimes in November. 15 Near him was seated John Alden, his friend and household com- panion, AVriting with diligent speed at a table of pine by the window; Fair-haired, azure-eyed, with delicate Saxon complexion, Having the dew of his youth, and the beauty thereof, as the captives Whom Saint Gregory saw, and exclaimed, "Not Angles but An- gels." 20 Youngest of all was he of the men who came in the May Flower. I Suildenly breaking the silence, the diligent scribe interrupting, Spake, in the pride of his heart. Miles Standish the Captain of . Plymouth. 256 The Courtship of Miles Stanriish 257 "Look at these arms," he said, "the warhkc weapons that hang here, Burnished and bright and clean, as if for parade or inspection! 25 This is the sword of Damascus 1 fought with in Fhanders; this breastphite, Well I remember the day! once saved my life in a skirmish; Here in front you can see the very dint of the bullet Fired point-blank at my heart by a Spanish arcabucero. Had it not been of sheer steel, the forgotten bones of Miles Standish 30 Would at this moment be mould, in their grave in the Flemish morasses." Thereupon answered John Alden, but looked not up from his writing: "Truly the breath of the Lord hath slackened the s])eed of the bullet; He in his mercy preserved you, to bo our shii-ld and our weapon!" Still the Captain continued, unheeUr When the tidings thereof were brought to the village ot i ly- mouth, , , ,^^ ,, . And as a trophy of war the head of the brave A\ attawamat Scowled from the roof of the fort, which at once was a church and a fortress, i j. i 820 All who beheld it rejoiced, and praised the Lord, and took cour- Only Priscilla averted her face from this spectre of terror, Thanking God in her heart that she had not married Miles Stan- Shrinking, fearing almost, lest, coming home from his battles He should lay claim to her hand, as the prize and reward of his valor. VIII THE SPINNING-WHEEL 825 Month after month passed away, and in Autumn the ships of the merchants - ,, Came with kindred and friends, with cattle and corn for the All in the village was peace ; the men were intent on their labors Busy with hewing and building, with garden-plot and with merestead, , . .i „„ :^ +v,o Busy with breaking the glebe, and mowing the grass m the 830 SearSg'the'sea for its fish, and hunting the deer in the forest AlMn the village was peace; but at times the rumor of warfare Filled the air with alarm, and the apprehe^ision of danger Bravely the stalwart Standish was scouring the land with his £orc6*s • Waxing valiant in fight and defeating the alien armies, 835 Till his'name had become a sound of fear to the nations Anger was still in his heart, but at times the remorse and con- Which in all noble natures succeed the passionate outbreak, Came hke a rising tide, that encounters the rush of a river, 286 Narrative Poems of Longfellow Staying its current awhile, but making it bitter and brackish. 840 Meanwhile Alden at home had built him a new habitation, Solid, substantial, of timber rough-hewn from the firs of the forest. Wooden-barred was the door, and the roof was covered with rushes; Latticed the windows were, and the window-panes were of paper, Oiled to admit the light, while wind and rain were excluded. 845 There too he dug a well, and around it planted an orchard: Still may be seen to this day some trace of the well and the orchard. Close to the house was the stall, where, safe and secure from an- noyance, Raghorn, the snow-white bull, that had fallen to Alden's allot- ment In the division of cattle, might ruminate in the night-time 850 Over the pastures he cropped, made fragrant by sweet penny- royal. Oft when his labor was finished, with eager feet would the dreamer Follow the pathway that ran through the woods to the house of Priscilla, Led by illusions romantic and subtile deceptions of fancy. Pleasure disguised as duty, and love in the semblance of friend- ship. 855 Ever of her he thought, when he fashioned the walls of his dwell- . ing; Ever of her he thought, when he delved in the soil of his garden; Ever of her he thought, when he read in his Bible on Sunday Praise of the virtuous woman, as she is described in the Prov- erbs, — How the heart of her husband doth safely trust in her always, 860 How all the days of her life she will do him good, and not evil. How she seeketh the wool and the flax and worketh with glad- ness. How she layeth her hand to the spindle and holdeth the distaff. How she is not atrnid of the snow for iierself or her household, Knowing her household are clothed with the scarlet cloth of her weaving! The Courtship of Miles Standish 287 865 So as she sat at her wheel one afternoon in the Autumn, Alden, who opposite sat, and was watching her dexterous fingers As if the thread she was spinning were that of his life and his fortune, After a pause in their talk, thus spake to the sound of the spindle. "Truly, Priscilla," he said, "when I see you spinning and spin- ning, 870 Never idle a moment, but thrifty and thoughtful of others. Suddenly you are transformed, are visibly changetl in a moment; You are no longer Priscilla, but Bertha the Beautiful Spinner." Here the light foot on the treadle grew swifter and swifter; the spindle Uttered an angry snarl, and the thread snapped short in her fingers; 875 While the impetuous speaker, not heeding the mischief, con- tinued: "You are the beautiful Bertha, the spinner, the queen of Hel- vetia; She whose story I read at a stall in the streets of Southampton, Who, as she rode on her palfrey, o'er valley and meadow and mountain, Ever was spinning her thread from a distaff fixed to her saddle. 880 She was so thrifty and good, that her name passed into a proveib. So shall it be with your own, when the s}Mnning-wheel shall no longer Hum in the house of the farmer, and fill its chambers with music. Then shall the mothers, reproving, relate how it was in their childhood. Praising the good old times, and the days of Priscilla the spin- ner! " 885 Straight uprose from her wheel the beautiful Puritan maiden, Pleased with the praise of her thrift from him whose praise was the sweetest, Drew from the reel on the table a snowy skein of her spinning, Thus making answer meanwhile, to the flattering phrases of Alden: "Come, you must not be idle; if I am a pattern for housewives, 890 Show yourself equally worthy of being the model of husbands. Hold this skein on your hands, while I wind it, ready for knit- ting; Then who knows but hereafter, when fashions have changed and the manners, ^8S !^arratwe Poems of Longfellow Fathers may talk to their sons of the good old times of John Alden!" Thus, with a jest and a laugh, the skein on his hands she ad- justed, 895 He sitting av^kwardly there, with his arms extended before him, She standing graceful, erect, and winding the thread from his fingers. Sometimes chiding a little his clumsy manner of holding, Sometimes touching his hands, as she disentangled expertly Twist or knot in the yarn, unawares — for how could she help it?— 900 Sending eleptrical thrills through every nerve in his body. Lo! in the midst of this scene, a breathless messenger entered, Bringing in hurry and heat the terrible news from the village. Yes; Miles Standish was dead! — an Indian had brought them the tidings, — Slain by a poisoned arrow, shot down in the front of the battle, 905 Into an ambush beguiletl, cut off with the whole of his forces; All the town would be burned, and all the people be murdered! Such were the tidings of evil that burst on the hearts of the hearers. Silent and statue-like stood Priscilla, her face looking backward Still at the face of the speaker, her arms uplifted in horror; 910 But John Alden, upstarting, as if the barb of the arrow Piercing the heart of his friend had struck his own, and had sundered Once and forever the bonds that held him bound as a captive. Wild with excess of sensation, the awful delight of his freedom. Mingled with pain and regret, unconscious of what he was doing, 915 Clasped, almost with a groan, the motionless form of Priscilla, Pressing her close to his heart, as forever his own, and exclaim- ing: "Those whom the Lord hath united, let no man put them asun- der! " Even as rivulets twain, from distant and separate sources, Seeing each other afar, as they leap from the rocks, and pursu- ing 920 Each one its devious path, but drawing nearer and nearer, Rush together at last, at their trysting-place in the forest; So these lives that had run thus far in separate channels, The Courtship of Miles Standish 289 Coming in sight of each other, then swerving and flowing asun- der, , . , Parted by barriers strong, but drawing nearer and nearer, 925 Rushed together at last, and one was lost in the other. IX THE W'EDDING-DAY Forth from the curtain of clouds from the tent of purple and scarlet, . , . - i Issued the sun, the great High-Priest, in his garments resplen- Hohne^s unto the Lord, in letters of light, on his forehead, Round the hem of his robe the golden bells and pomegranates 930 Blessing the world he came, and the bars of vapor beneath him Gleamed like a grate of brass, and the sea at his feet was a laver! This was the wedding morn of Priscilla the Puritan maiden. Friends were assembled together; the Elder and Magistrate also Graced the scene with their presence, and stood like the Law and the Gospel, . , .i u i • e 935 One with the sanction of earth and one w.th the blessing of SimpleTnd brief was the wedding, as that of Ruth and of Boaz. Softly the youth and the maiden repeated the words of betrothal, Taking each other for husband and wife in the Magistrate s After^thrPuritan way, and the laudable custom of Holland. 940 Fervently then, and devoutly, the excellent E der of Plymouth Prayed for the hearth and the home, that were founded that day in affection, ,. . , ,. ,. Speaking of life and of death, and imploring divine benedictions. Lo! when the service was ended, a form appeared on the threshold, „ , Clad in armor of steel, a sombre and sorrowful hgure! 945 Why does the bridegroom start and stare at the strange appari- Why dJI^s the bride turn pale, and hide her face on his shoulder? Is it a phantom of air,— a bodiless, spectral illusion . 290 Narrative Poems of Longfellow Is it a ghost from the grave, that has come to forbid the f! betrothal? 1 Long had it stood there imseen, a guest uninvited, unwelcomed; 950 Over its clouded eyes there had passed at times an expression i| Softening the gloom and revealing the warm heart hidden be- neath them. As when across the sky the driving rack of the rain-cloud Grows for a moment thin, and betrays the sun by its brightness. Once it had lifted its hand, and moved its lips, but was silent, 955 As if an iron will had mastered the fleeting intention. But when were ended the troth and the prayer and the last benediction, Into the room it strode, and the people beheld with amazement Bodily there in his armor Miles Standish, the Captain of Ply- mouth! Grasping the bridegroom's hand, he said with emotion, " Forgive me! 960 I have been angry and hurt, — too long have I cherished the feeling; I have been cruel and hard, but now, thank God! it is ended. Mine is the same hot blood that leaped in the veins of Hugh Standish, Sensitive, swift to resent, but as swift in atoning for error. Never so much as now was Miles Standish the friend of John Alden." 965 Thereupon answered the bridegroom: ''Let all be forgotten be- tween us,— All save the dear, old friendship, and that shall grow older and i dearer! " Then the Captain advanced, and, bowing, saluted Priscilla, Gravely, andafterthemannerof old-fashioned gentry in England, Something of camp and of court, of town and of country, com- mingled, 970 Wishing her joy of her wedding, and loudly lauding her husband. Then he said with a smile: "I should have remembered the adage, — If you would be well served, you must serve yourself; and more- over. No man can gather cherries in Kent at the season of Christmas! " Great was the people's amazement, and greater yet their re- joicing, The Court fthip of M/'/c.s Stand ifh 291 975 Thus to behold once more the sunburnt face of their Captain, Whom they had mourned as dead; and they gathered and crowded about him, * Eager to see him and hear him, forgetful of bride and of bride- groom. Questioning, answering, laughing, and each interrupting the other. Till the good Captain declared, being quite overpowered and be- wilciered, 980 He had rather by far break into an Indian encampment. Than come again to a wedding to which he had not been invited. Meanwhile the bridegroom went forth and stood with the bride at the doorway, Breathing the perfumed air of that warm and beautiful morning. Touched with autumnal tints, but lonely and sad in the sun- shine, 985 Lay extended before them the land of toil and privation; There were the graves of the dead, and the barren waste of the seashore. There the familiar fields, the groves of pine, and the meadows; But to their eyes transfigured, it seemed as the Garden of Eden, Filled with the presence of God, whose voice was the sound of the ocean. 990 Soon was their vision disturbed by the noise and stir of de- parture. Friends coming forth from the house, and impatient of longer delaying, Each with his plan for the day, and the work that was left un- completed. Then from a stall near at hand, amid exclamations of wonder, Alden the thoughtful, the careful, so happy, so proud of Priscilla, 995 Brought out his snow-white bull, obeying the hand of its master. Led by a cord that was tied to an iron ring in its nostrils. Covered with crimson cloth, and a cushion placed fcr a saddle. She should not walk, he said, through the dust and heat of the noonday; Nay, she should ride like a queen, not plod along like a peasant. 000 Somewhat alarmed at first, but reassured by the others. Placing her hand on the cushion, her foot in the hand of her hus- band, 292 Narrative Pnemfi of Lowifellow Gayly, with joyous laugh, Priscilla mounted her palfrey. "Nothing is wanting now," he said with a smile, "but the | distaff; Then you w^ould be in truth my queen, my beautiful Bertha! " 1 005 Onward the bridal procession now moved to their new habita- tion. Happy husband and wife, and friends conversing together. Pleasantly murmured the brook, as they crossed the ford in the forest, Pleased with the image that passed like a dream of love through its bosom, Tremulous, floating in air, o'er the depths of the azure abysses. 1010 Down through the golden leaves the sun was pouring his splen- dors. Gleaming on purple grapes, that, from branches above them suspended. Mingled their odorous breath with the balm of the pine and the fir-tree. Wild and sweet as the clusters that grew in the valley of Eshcol. Like a picture it seemed of the primitive, pastoral ages, ) 1015 Fresh with the youth of the world, and recalling Rebecca and j Isaac, j Old and yet ever new, and simple and beautiful always, \ Love immortal and young in the endless succession of lovers. j So through the Plymouth woods passed onward the bridal pro- ; cession. ,1 INTRODUCTION TO TALES OF A WAYSIDE INN The Tales of a Wayside Inn appeared in three sepa- rate parts and at considerable intervals. The Tales of the First Day appeared in November, 1863; the Second Day formed a conspicuous part of the volume called Three Books of Song, published in 1872; the Third Day appeared with Aftermath in 1873, completed on the poet's sixty-sixth birthday. The plan of writing a series of tales, supposedly told by the guests at an inn, did not suggest itself to Longfellow until after several of the poems had been published separately; "Paul Reve^e's Ride," a lyric forming a part of the "Saga of King Olaf," and the "Legend of Rabbi Ben Levi," had appeared in the "Atlantic Mojithly" some time before the first part was published in book form. The device of putting a series of tales into the mouths of a group of characters is an old one in literature, the most notable examples being Boccaccio's r. , Decameron in Italian, and Chaucer's Can- Jtramework \ terhury Tales in English; Whittier's The Tent on the Beach, published several years after the first part of Longfellow's collection, follows the same plan. The fact that Longfellow originally called his work The 293 204 Narrative Poems of I jong fellow Sudburi/ Tales suggests Chaucer at once, and it is not unlikely that the similarity of titles accounts for the change to Tales of a Wayside Inn, a change made while the volume was in press. It will be conceded that the latter title is more felicitous as well as more original. Such a framework accommodates itself to leisurely ex- pansion and lends itself admirably to the genius of a ver- satile writer like Longfellow. The little town of Sudbury is situated about twenty miles west of Cambridge. In the old days it was only an inn for the accommodation of stage g , . coach travellers westward. Shortly after the publication of Part First, the poet v/rote to a friend in England: ' ' TJie Wayside Inn has more foundation in fact than you may suppose. The town of Sudbury is about twenty miles from Cambridge, Some two hundred years ago, an English family, by the name of Howe, built there a country house, which has remained in the family down to the present time, the last of the race dying but two years ago. Losing their fortune, they became inn- keepers; and for a century the Red-Horse Inn has flour- ished, going down from father to son. The place is just as I described it, though no longer an inn." There is an entry in the poet's journal for October 31, 1862, bearing upon his preparation for writing the Prelude. "October ends with a delicious Indian-summer day. Drive with Fields to the old Red-Horse Tavern in Sud- bury, — alas, no longer an inn. A lovely valley; the Introdiiclion to Tales of n Wayside Inn 295 winding road shaded by grand old oaks before the house. A rambHng, tumble-down old building, two hundred years old, and till now in the family of the Howes, who have kept an inn for one hundred and seventy-five years. In the old time, it was a house of call for all travellers from Boston westward." The vivid autumn touches in the Prelude are undoubt- edly due to the impressions made by this visit. The characters to whom the stories are attributed have the same dehniteness as thv' setting. In the letter above referred to, Lonsjfellow asserted The ^, , that they were all real. Though he Characters -^ i i. i i- nowhere gave the complete list, the dis- guises were so slight that his friends easily traced out the originals. The poet was Tliomas W. Parsons, who is favorably known for his rhymed translation of parts of Dante's Divina Commedia; the Sicilian was Luigi ^Nlonti. Longfellow's intimate friend, an exile from Sicily, who, as a naturalized citizen of the United States, went back to Palermo as consul; the Theologian was Daniel Tread- well, Professor of Physics in Harvard College, who had also a great interest in theology. These three friends. Parsons, Monti, and Treadwell, often spent the summer months together at the Sudbury Inn, — a fact that adds more reality to the setting. The Musician was Ole Bull, the famous Norwegian violinist; the Student w^as a young Harvard scholar, Henry Ware Wales, whose early death ended a life of promise; the Spanish Jew was an Oriental merchant of Boston whom the poet knew and painted as 296 Narrative Poems of Longfellow he knew him. The Landlord may have been a creation, though his description is in keeping with the family in whose hands the inn had formerly been. In a small way, the characters are just as representative as Chaucer's "nine and twenty pilgrims." The varied character of the group brought together at the Wayside Inn gave the poet a wide range in the choice of subject matter for his tales. The The Norwegian Musician gave him a Tales means of introducing his Norse Saga, which had been written three years prior to the Prelude. The Jew afforded him opportunity for drawing upon that great source of interest and inspi- ration, the Talmud, to which his friend Scherb had in- troduced him. And so with the other characters, — the tales they tell are characteristic of the narrators. This gives the plan unity and consistency, and affords the variety so much needed in such a series. The source and history of each of the tales will be found in the Notes. The merits of the several tales vary almost as widely as the subject matter Some of the stories, such as "The Falcon of Ser Federigo," "Torquemada," "Charlemagne," and "Emma and Eginhard," borrowings from older litera- tures, gain nothing by the retelling; some of them, indeed, seem to have been written merely for the sake of round- ing out the series. On the other hand, the general Pre-^ lude,*and the Preludes to the separate tales, take rank with the best of the poet's work; and some of the tales Introduction to Tales of a Wayside hui 297 are as charming as the character-sketches of those who are supposed to tell them. "Paul Revere" has the spirit, the dash, the simplicity of a ballad. Nothing could be better done than "The Legend Beautiful," "King Robert of Sicily," and "The Birds of Killingworth," the last named being the most original of the entire series. In the main, the Tales of a Wayside Inn show an obvious decline of creative ability, but they possess the general characteristics of style that make Longfellow's works deservedly popular. The characters are well-drawn and the narratives arc spirited. In a critical estimate of the Tales of a Wayside Inn, Stedman writes with his usual insight : "With Longfellow's lyrical facility of putting a story into rippling verse, almost as lightly as another would tell it in prose, we find ourselves assured of as many poems as he had themes. [The excellence of his narra- tive] is due to a modern and natural style, the sweet variety of measures, and to his ease in dialogue. Longfellow's frequent gayety and constant sense of the humanities make him a true story-teller for the multi- tude."i »Poets of America. TALES OF A WAYSIDE INN PRELUDE THE WAYSIDE INN One Autumn night, in Sudbury town, Across the meadows bare and brown, The windows of the wayside inn Gleamed red with fire-Hght through the leaves 5 Of woodbine, hanging from the eaves Their crimson curtains rent and thin. As ancient is this hostelry As any in the land may be. Built in the old Colonial day, 10 When men lived in a grander way, With ampler hospitahty; A kind of old Hobgobhn Hall, Now somewhat fallen to decay, With weather-stains upon the wall, 15 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 tlreams, 20 Remote among the wooded hills! For there no noisy railway speeds. Its torch-race scattering smoke and gleeds; But noon and night, the panting teams Stop under the great oaks, that throw 25 Tangles of light and shade below. On roofs and doors and window-sills. Across the road the barns display Their lines of stalls, their mows of hay, Through the wide doors the l)rcezcs l)low, 298 Tales of a Wayside Inn 299 30 The wattled cocks strut to and fro, And, half effaced by rain and shine, The Red Horse prances on the sign. Round this old-fashioned, quaint abode Deep silence reigned, save when a gust 35 Went rushing down the county 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 40 Mysterious voices moaned and fled. But from the parlor of the inn A pleasant murmur smote the ear, Like water rushing through a weir; Oft interrupted by the din 45 Of laughter and of loud applause, And, in each intervening pause, The music of a violin. The fire-light, shedding over all The splendor of its ruddy glow, 50 Filled the whole parlor large and low; It gleamed on wainscot and on wall. It touched with more than wonted grace Fair Princess Mary's pictured face; It bronzed the rafters overhead, 55 On the old spinet's ivory keys It played inaudible melodies. It crowned the sombre clock with flame, The hands, the hours, the maker's name, And painted with a livelier red 60 The Landlord's coat-of-arms again; And, flashing on the window pane, Emblazoned with its light and shade The jovial rhymes, that still remain. Writ near a century ago, 65 By the great Major Molineaux, AVhom Hawthorne has immortal made. Before the blazing fire of wood Erect the rapt musician stood; And ever and anon he bent 300 Narrative Poems of Longfellow 70 His head upon his instrument, And seemed to hsten, till he caught Confessions of its secret thought, — The joy the triumph, the lament, The exultation and the pain; 75 Then, by the magic of his art. He soothed the throbbings of its hsavc. And lulled it into peace again. Around the fireside. at their ease There sat a group of friends, entranced 80 With the delicious melodies; Who from the far-off noisy town Had to the wayside inn come down, To rest beneath its old oak-trees. The fire-light on their faces glanced, 85 Their shadows on the wainscot danced, And, though of different lands and speech, Each had his tale to tell, and each Was anxious to be pleased and please. And while the sweet musician plays, 90 Let me in outline sketch them all. Perchance uncouthly as the blaze With its uncertain touch portrays Their shadowy semblance on the wall. But first the Landlord will I trace; 95 Grave in his aspect and attire; A man of ancient pedigree, A Justice of the Peace was he, Known in all Sudbury as ''The Squire." Proud was he of his name and race, 100 Of old Sir William and Sir Hugh, And in the parlor, full in view. His coat-of-arms, well framed and^glazed, Upon the wall in colors blazed; He beareth gules upon his shield, 105 A chevron argent in the field, With three wolf's heads, and for the crest A Wyvern part-per-pale addressed Upon a helmet barred; below The scroll reads, ^'By the name of Howe." Tales of a Wayside Inn 301 110 And over this, no longer bright, Though glimmering with a latent light, Was hung the sword his grandsire bore, In the rebellious days of yore, Down there at Concord in the fight. 115 A youth was there, of quiet ways, A Student of old books and days, To whom all tongues and lands were known. And 3^et a lover of his own; With many a social virtue graced, 120 And yet a friend of solitude; A man of such a genial mood The heart of all things he embraced. And yet of such fastidious taste. He never found the best too good. 125 Books were his passion and delight, And in his upper room at home Stood many a rare and sumptuous tome, In vellum bound, with gold bedight, Great volumes garmented in white, 130 Recalling Florence, Pisa, Rome. He loved the twilight that surrounds The border-land of old romance; Where glitter hauberk, helm, and lance. And banner waves, and trumpet sounds, 135 And ladies ride with hawk on wrist, And mighty warriors sweep along. Magnified by the purple mist. The dusk of centuries and of song. The chronicles of Charlemagne, 140 Of Merlin and the Mort d'Arthure, Mingled together in his brain With tales of Flores and Blanchefleur, Sir Ferumbras, Sir Eglamour, Sir Launcelot, Sir Morgadour, 145 Sir Guy, Sir Bevis, Sir Gawain. A young Sicilian, too, was there; In sight of Etna born and bred. Some breath of its volcanic air Was glowing in his heart and brain, 302 Narrative Poems of Longfellow 150 And being rebellious to his liege, After Palermo's fatal siege, Across the western seas he fled, In good King Bomba's happy reign. His face was like a summer night, 155 All flooded with a dusky light; His hands were small; his teeth shone whitt As sea-shells, when he smiled or spoke; His sinews supple and strong as oak; Clean shaven was he as a priest, 100 AVho at the mass on Sunday sings, Save that upon his upper lip His beard, a good palm's length at least. Level and pointed at the tip. Shot sideways, like a swallow's wings. 165 The poets read he o'er and o'er. And most of all the Immortal Four Of Italy; and next to those, The story-telling bard of prose. Who wrote the joyous Tuscan tales 170 Of the Decameron, that make Fiesole's green hills and vales Remembered for Boccaccio's sake. Much too of music was his thought; The melodies and measures fraught 175 With sunshine and the open air. Of vineyards and the singing sea Of his beloved Sicily; And much it pleased him to peruse The songs of the Sicilian muse, — 180 Bucolic songs by Meli sung In the familiar peasant tongue. That made men say, "Behold! once more The pitying gods to earth restore Theocritus of Syracuse! " 185 A Spanish Jew from Alicant With aspect grand and grave was tliere; Vender of silks and fabrics rare. And attar of rose from the Levant, like an old Patriarch he appeared, 190 Abraham or Isaac, or at least Tales of a Wayside Inn 303 Some later Prophet or High-Priest; With lustrous eyes, and olive skin, And, wildly tossed from cheeks and chin, The tumbling cataract of his beard. His garments breathed a spicy scent Of cinnamon and sandal blent, Like the soft aromatic gales That meet the mariner, who sails Through the Moluccas, and the seas That wash the shores of Celebes. All stories that recorded are By Pierre Alphonse he knew by heart. And it was rumored he could say The parables of Sandabar, x\nd all the Fables of Pilpay, Or if not all, the greater part! Well versed was he in Hebrew books, Talmud and Targum, and the loi-e Of Kabala; and evermore There was a mystery in his looks; His eyes seemed gazing far away, As if in vision or in trance He heard the solemn sackbut play, And saw the Jewish maidens dance. A Theologian, from the school Of Cambridge on the Charles, was there; Skilful alike with tongue and pen, Ho preached to all men everywhere The Gospel of the Golden Rule, The New Commandment given to men, Thinking the deed, and not the creed, Would help us in our utmost need. With reverent feet the earth he trod. Nor banished nature from his plan, But studied still with deep research To build the Universal Church, Lofty as is the love of God, And ample as the wants of man. A Poet, too, was there, whose verse Was tender, musical, and terse; 304 Narrative Poems of Longfelloiv \ The inspiration, the dehght, I The gleam, the glory, the swift flight, \ Of thoughts so sudden, that they seem j The revelations of a dream, 235 All these were his; but with them came l No envy of another's fame; , He did not find his sleep less sweet For music in some neighboring street, Nor rustling hear in every breeze 240 The laurels of Miltiades. \ Honor and blessings on his head i While living, good report when dead, \ Who, not too eager for renown, I Accepts, but does not clutch, the crownl 245 Last the Musician, as he stood j Illumined by that fire of wood; ^ Fair-haired, blue-eyed, his aspect blithe, | His figure tall and straight and lithe, I And every feature of his face '' 250 Revealing his Norwegian race; ; A radiance, streaming from within, i Around his eyes and forehead beamed, The Angel with the violin, \ Painted by Raphael, he seemed. I 255 He lived in that ideal world | Whose language is not speech, but song; ] Around him evermore the throng ■ Of elves and sprites their dances whirled; The Stromkarl sang, the cataract hurled 260 Its headlong waters from the height; i And mingled in the wild delight The scream of sea-birds in their flight, i The rumor of the forest trees, I The plunge of the implacable seas, _ j 265 The tumult of the wind at night, " i Voices of eld, like trumpets blowing, '■ Old ballads, and wild melodies Through mist and darkness pouring forth, | Like Elivagar's river flowing < 270 Out of the glaciers of the North. Tales of a Wayside Inn 305 The instrument on which he played Was in Cremona's workshops made, By a great master of the past, Ere yet was lost the art divine; Fashioned of maple and of pine, That in Tyrolian forests vast Had rocked and wrestled with the blast: Exquisite was it in design, Perfect in each minutest part, A marvel of the lutist's art; And in its hollow chamber, thus, The maker from whose hands it came Had written his unrivalled name, — "Antonius Stradivarius." And when he played, the atmosphere Was filled with magic, and the ear Caught echoes of that Harp of Gold, Whose music had so weird a sound, The hunted stag forgot to bound, The leaping rivulet backward rolled, The birds came down from bush and tree, The dead came from beneath the sea, The maiden to the harper's knee! The music ceased; the applause was loud. The pleased musician smiled and bowed; The wood-fire clapped its hands of flame. The shadows on the wainscot stirred, And from the harpsichord there came A ghostly murmur of acclaim, A sound like that sent dov\'n at night By birds of passage in their flight, From the remotest distance heard. Then silence followed; then began A clamor for the Landlord's tale, — The story promised them of old, They said, but always left untold; And he, although a bashful man, And all his courage seemed to fail. Finding excuse of no avail, Yielded; and thus the story ran. I-500 Xarrafivf: Poems of LongjeUo'W THE LANDLORD'S TALE j PAUL REVERE S RIDE Listen, my children, and you shall hear : Of the midnight ride of Paul Revere, ; On the eighteenth of April, in Seventy-five; | Hardly a man is now alive I 5 Who remembers that famous day and year. : He said to his friend, " If the British march By land or sea from the town to-night, ■ Hang a lantern aloft in the belfry arch Of the North Church tower as a signal light, — j 10 One, if by land, and two, if by sea; i And I on the opposite shore will be, i Ready to ride and spread the alarm .1 Through every Middlesex village and farm, For the country-folk to be up and to arm." j '1 15 Then he said, "Good night!" and with muffled oar • Silently rowed to the Charlestown shore, ! Just as the moon rose over the bay, : Where swinging wide at her moorings lay ' The Somerset, British man-of-war; j 20 A phantom ship, with each mast and spar ! Across the moon like a prison bar, 1 And a huge l)lack hulk, tliat was magnified " ]3y its own refl(^ction in the tide. ; Meanwhile, h!s friend, through alley and street, ; 25 Wanders and watches with eager ears, Till in the silence around him he hears The muster of men at the barrack door, The sound of arms, and the tramp of feet, And the measured tread of the grenadiers, •; 30 Marching down to their boats on the shore. i Then he climbed the tower of the Old North Church, By the wooden stairs, with stealthy tread, To the belfry-chamber overhead, i And startled the pigeons from their perch I Tales of a Wayside Inn 307 35 On the sombre rafters, that round him made Masses and moving shapes of shade, — By the trembling ladder, steep and tall, To the highest window in the wall. Where he paused to listen and look down 40 A moment on the roofs of the town. And the moonlight flowing over all. Beneath, in the churchyard, lay the dead, In their night-encampment on the hill, Wrapped in silence so deep and still 45 That he could hear, like a sentinel's tread, The watchful night-wind, as it went Creeping along from tent to tent. And seeming to whisper, "All is well! '* A moment only he feels the spell 50 Of the place and the hour, and the secret dreatl Of the lonely belfry and the dead; For suddenly all his thoughts are bent On a shadowy something far away, Where the river widens to meet the bay, — 55 A line of black that bends and floats On the rising tide, like a bridge of boats. Meanwhile, impatient to mount and ride, Booted and spurred, with a heavy stride On the opposite shore walked Paul Revere. 60 "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 65 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! 70 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! A hurry of hoofs in a village street. 308 Narrative Poems of Longfelhnv • A shape in the moonhght, a bulk in the dark, 75 And beneath, from tlie pebbles, in passing, a spark Struck out by a steed flying fearless and fleet; That was all! And yet, through the gloom and the light, The fate of a nation was riding that night; And the spark struck out by that steed, in his flight, SO Kindled the land into flame with its heat. He has left the village and mounted the steep, And beneath him, tranquil and broad and deep, Is the Mystic, meeting the ocean tides; And under the alders, that skirt its edge, 85 Now soft on the sand, now loud on the ledge, Is heard the tramp of his steed as he rides. It was twelve by the village clock When he crossed the bridge into Medford town. He heard the crowing of the cock, 90 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. 95 He saw the gilded weathercock Swim in the moonlight as he passed, And the meeting-house windows, blank and l^are, Gaze at him with a spectral glare, As if they already stood aghast 100 At the bloody work they would look upon. It was two by tlie 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, 105 And felt the breath of the morning breeze Blowing over the meadows brown. And one was safe and asleep in his bed Who at the bridge would be first to fall, Who that day would be lying d(^ad, 110 Pierced by a British musket-ljall. Tales of a Wayside Inn 309 You know the rest. In the books you have read, How the British Regulars fired and fled,— How the farmers gave them ball for ball, From behind each fence and farmyard wall, 115 Chasing the red-coats down the lane, Then crossing the fields to emerge again Under the trees at the turn of the road, And only pausing to fire and load. So through the night rode Paul Revere; 120 And so through the night went his cry of alarm To every ]\Iiddlesex village and farm, — A cry of defiance and not of fear, A voice in the darkness, a knock at the door. And a word that shall echo forevermore! 125 For, borne on the night-wind of the Past, Through all our history, to the last, In the hour of darkness and peril and need. The people will waken and listen to hear The hurrying hoof-beats of that steed, 130 And the midnight message of Paul Revere. INTERLUDE The Landlord ended thus his tale, Then rising took down from its nail The sword that hung there, dim with dust, And cleaving to its sheath with rust, 5 And said, "This sword was in the fight." The Poet seized it, and exclaimed, "It is the sword of a good knight, Though homespun was his coat-of-mail; What matter if it be not named 10 Joyeuse, Colada, Durindale, Excalibur, or Aroundight, Or other name the books record? Your ancestor, who bore this sword As Colonel of the Volunteers, 15 Mounted upon his old gray mare, Seen here and there and everywhere, To me a grander shape appears 310 Nnrrrttive Poenifi oj Lnvgfelhv Than old Sir William, or what not, ^ Clinking about in foreign lands 1 20 With iron gauntlets on his hands, And on his head an iron pot! " All laughed; the Landlord's face grew red '. As his escutcheon on the wall; j He could not comprehend at all j 25 The drift of what the Poet said; | For those wdio had been longest dead i Were always greatest in his eyes; ', And he was speechless with surprise ' To see Sir William's plumed head I 30 Brought to a level with the rest, ] And made the subject of a jest. ! And this perceiving, to appease ^ The Landlord's wrath, the others' fears, j The Student said, with careless ease, | 35 "The ladies and the cavaUers, The arms, the loves, the courtesies, The deeds of high emprise, 1 sing! Thus Ariosto says, in words That have the stately stride and ring 40 Of armed knights and clashing swords. Now listen to the tale I bring; Listen! though not to me belong The flowing draj^eries of his song, The words that nnise, the voice that charms. 45 The Landlord's tale was one of arms, Only a tale of love is mine. Blending the human and divine, A tale of the Decameron, told In Palmieri's garden old, 50 By Fiametta, laurel-crowned. While her companions lay around. And heard the intermingled sound Of airs that on their errands sped. And wild birds gossiping overhead, 55 And lisp of leaves, and fountain's fall, Ami her own voice more sweet than all, Telling the tale, which, w^anting these. Perchance may lose its power to please." i Tales of a Wayside Inn 311 THE STUDENT'S TALE THE FALCON- OF SEU FEDERIGO One summer morning, when the sun was hot, Weary with hibor in his garden-plot. On a rude bench beneath his cottage eaves, Ser Federigo sat among the leaves 5 Of a huge vine, that, with its arms outspread, Hung its delicious clusters overhead. Below him, through the lovely valley, flowed The river Arno, like a winding road, And from its banks were lifted high in air 10 The spires and roofs of Florence called the Fair; To him a marble tomb, that rose above His wasted fortunes and his buried love. For there, in banquet and in tournament. His wealth had lavish been, his substance spent, 15 To woo and lose, since ill his wooing sped, Monna Giovanna, who his rival wed, Yet ever in his fancy reigned supreme, The ideal woman of a young man's dream. Then he withdrew, in poverty and pain, 20 To this small farm, the last of his domain. His only comfort and his only care To prune his vines, and plant the fig and pear; His only forester and only guest His falcon, faithful to him, when the rest, 25 Whose willing hands had found so light of yore The brazen knocker of his palace door, Had now no strength to lift the wooden latch, That entrance gave beneath a roof of thatch. Companion of his solitary ways, 30 Purveyor of his feasts on holidays, On him this melancholy man bestowed The love with which his nature overflowed. And so the empty-handed years went round, Vacant, though voiceful with j)rophetic sound, 35 And so, that summer morn, he sat and nnised With folded, patient hands, as he was used, And dreamily before his half-closed sight 312 Narrative Poems of Longfellow Floated the vision of his lost delight. Beside him, motionless, the drowsy bird 40 Dreamed of the chase, and in his slumber heard The sudden, scythe-like sweep of wings, that dare The headlong plunge thro' eddying gulfs of air, Then, starting broad awake upon his perch, Tinkled his bells, like mass-bells in a church, 45 And, looking at his master, seemed to say, "Ser Federigo, shall we hunt to-day?" Ser Federigo thought not of the chase; The tender vision of her lovely face, I will not say he seems to see, he sees 50 In the leaf-shadows of the trellises, Herself, yet not herself; a lovely child With flowing tresses, and eyes wide and wild. Coming undaunted up the garden walk. And looking not at him, but at the hawk. a 55 "Beautiful falcon! " said he, "would that I 1 Might hold thee on my wrist, or see thee fly! " The voice was hers, and made strange echoes start Through all the haunted chambers of his heart, As an seolian harp through gusty doors 60 Of some old ruin its wild music pours. "Who is thy mother, my fair boy?" he said, His hand laid softly on that shining head. "Monna Giovanna. — Will you let me stay A little while, and with your falcon play? 65 We live there, just beyond your garden wall, In the great house behind the poplars tall." So he spake on; and Federigo heard As from afar each softly uttered word, And drifted onward through the golden gleams 70 And shadows of the misty sea of dreams, As mariners becalmed through vapors drift, And feel the sea beneath them sink and lift, And hear far ofif the mournful breakers roar, And voices calling faintly from the shore! 75 Then, waking from his pleasant reveries, He took the little boy upon his knees, And told him stories of his gallant bird, Tales of a Wayside Inn 313 Till in their friendship he became a third. Monna Giovanna, widowed in her prime, 80 Had come with friends to pass the summer time In her grand villa, half-way up the hill, O'erlooking Florence, but retired and still; With iron gates that opened through long lines Of sacred ilex and centennial pines, 85 And terraced gardens, and broad steps of stone, And sylvan deities, with moss o'ergrown, And fountains palpitating in the heat. And all Val d'Arno stretched beneath its feet. Here in seclusion, as a widow may, 90 The lovely lady whiled the hours away, Pacing in sable robes the statued hall, Herself the stateliest statue among all, And seeing more and more, with secret joy, Her husband risen and living in her boy, 95 Till the lost sense of life returned again. Not as delight, but as relief from pain. Meanwhile the boy, rejoicing in his strength, Stormed down the terraces from length to length; The screaming peacock chased in hot })ursuit, 100 And climbed the garden trellises for fruit. But his chief pastime was to watch the flight Of a gerfalcon, soaring into sight. Beyond the trees that fringed the garden wall, Then downward stooping at some distant call; 105 And as he gazed full often wondered he Who might the master of the falcon be, Until that happy morning, when he found Master and falcon in the cottage ground. And now a shadow^ and a terror fell 110 On the great house, as if a passing-bell. Tolled from the tower, and filled each spacious room With secret awe, and preternatural gloom; The petted boy grew ill, and day by day Pined with mysterious malady away 115 The mother's heart would not be comforted; Her darling seemed to her already dead, 314 Narrative Poems of Longfellow And often, sitting by the sufferer's side, "What can I do to comfort thee?" she cried. At first the silent Hps made no reply, 120 But, moved at length by her importunate cry, "Give me," he answered, with imploring tone, "Ser Federigo's falcon for my own! " No answer could the astonished mother make; How could she ask, e'en for her darling's sake, 125 Such favor at a luckless lover's hand, Well knowing that to ask was to command? Well knowing, what all falconers confessed, In all the land that falcon was the best. The master's pride and passion and delight, 130 And the sole pursuivant of this poor knight. But yet, for her child's sake, she could no less Than give assent, to soothe his restlessness, So promised, and then promising to keep Her promise sacred, saw him fall asleep. 135 The morrow was a bright September morn; The earth was beautiful as if new-born; There was that nameless splendor everywhere. That wild exhilaration in the air. Which makes the passers in the city street 140 Congratulate each other as they meet. Two lovely ladies, clothed in cloak and hood, Passed through the garden gate into the wood. Under the lustrous leaves, and through the sheen Of dewy sunshine showering down between. 145 The one, close-hooded, had the attractive grace Which sorrow sometimes lends a woman's face; Her dark eyes moistened with the mists that roll From the gulf-stream of passion in the soul; The other with her hood thrown back, her hair 150 Making a golden glory in the air. Her cheeks suffused with an auroral blush, Her young heart singing louder than the thrush. So walked, that morn, through mingled light and shade, Each by the other's presence lovelier made, 155 Monna Giovanna and her bosom friend, Intent upon their errand and its end. Tales of a Wayside Inn 31^ They found Ser Federigo at his toil, Like banished Adam, delving in the soil; And when he looked and these fair women spied, 160 The garden suddenly w'as glorified; His long-lost Eden was restored again, And the strange river winding through the plain No longer was the Arno to his eyes, But the Euphrates watering Paradise! 165 Monna Giovanna raised her stately head, And with fair words of salutation said: "Ser Federigo, we come here as friends, Hoping in this to make some poor amends For past unkindness. I who ne'er before 170 Would even cross the threshold of your door, I who in happier days such pride maintained, Refused your banquets, and your gifts disdained, This morning come, a self-invited guest, To put your generous nature to the test, 175 And breakfast with you under your ov/n vine." To which he answered: "Poor desert of mine. Not your unkindness call it, for if aught Is good in me of feeling or of thought. From you it comes, and this last grace outweighs 180 All sorrows, all regrets of other days." And after further compliment and talk, Among the asters in the garden walk He left his guests; and to his cottage turned, And as he entered for a moment yearned 1S5 For the lost splendors of the days of old, The ruby glass, the silver and the gold, And felt how piercing is the sting of pride. By want embittered and intensified. He looked about him for some means or way 190 To keep this unexpected holiday; Searched every cupboard, and then searched again. Summoned the maid who came, but came in vain; "The Signor did not hunt to-day," she said, "There's nothing in the house but wine and l)read." 195 Then suddenly the drowsy falcon shook His little bells, with that sagacious look, 316 Narrative Poems of Longfellow Which said, as plain as language to the ear, " If anything is wanting, I am here! " Yes, everything is wanting, gallant bird! 200 The master seized thee without further word, Like thine own lure, he whirled thee round; ah me I The pomp and flutter of brave falconry, The bells, the jesses, the bright scarlet hood. The flight and the pursuit o'er field and wood, 205 All these forevermore are ended now; No longer victor, but the victim thoul Then on the board a snow-white cloth he spread, Laid on its wooden dish the loaf of bread, Brought purple grapes with autumn sunshine hot, 210 The fragrant peach, the juicy bergamot; Then in the midst a flask of wine he placed. And with autumnal flowers the banquet graced. Ser Federigo, would not these suffice Without thy falcon stuffed with cloves and spice? 215 When all was ready, and the courtly dame With her companion to the cottage came. Upon Ser Federigo 's brain there fell The wild enchantment of a magic spell; The room they entered, mean and low and small, 220 Was changed into a sumptuous banquet-hall, With fanfares by aerial trumpets blown; The rustic chair she sat on was a throne; He ate celestial food, and a divine Flavor was given to his country wine, 225 And the poor falcon, fragrant with his spice, A peacock was, or bird of paradise! When the repast was ended, they arose And passed again into the garden-close. Then said the lady, " Far too well I know, 230 Remembering still the days of long ago. Though you betray it not, with what surprise You see me here in this familiar wise. You have no children, and you cannot guess What anguish, what unspeakable distress 235 A mother feels, whose child is lying ill, Tales of a Wayside Inn 317 Nor how her heart anticipates his will. And yet for this, you see me lay aside All womanly reserve and check of pride, And ask the thing most precious in your sight, !4 Your falcon, your sole comfort and delight. Which if you find it in your heart to give, My poor, unhappy boy perchance may live." Ser Federigo listens, and replies. With tears of love and pity in his eyes; !45 "Alas, dear lady! there can be no task So sweet to me, as giving when you ask. One little hour ago, if I had known This wish of yours, it would have been my own. But thinking in what manner I could best 150 Do honor to the presence of my guest, I deemed that nothing worthier could be Than what most dear and precious was to me, And so my gallant falcon breathed his last To furnish forth this morning our repast." 555 In mute contrition, mingled with dismay, The gentle lady turned her eyes away, Grieving that he such sacrifice should make. And kill his falcon for a woman's sake, Yet feeling in her heart a woman's pride, 560 That nothing she could ask for was denied; Then took her leave, and passed out at the gate With footstep slow and soul disconsolate. Three days went by, and lo! a passing-bell Tolled from the little chapel in the dell; J65 Ten strokes Ser Federigo heard, and said. Breathing a prayer, "Alas! her child is dead!" Three months went by, and lo! a merrier chime Rang from the chapel bells at Christmas time; The cottage was deserted, and no more 270 Ser Federigo sat beside its door. But now, with servitors to do his will. In the grand villa, half-way up the hill, Sat at the Christmas feast, and at his side Monna Giovanna, his beloved bride, 318 Narrative Poems of Longfellow 275 Never so beautiful, so kind so fair, Enthroned once more in the old rustic chair, High-perched upon the back of which there stood The image of a falcon carved in wood, And underneath the inscription, with a date, 280 "All things come round to him who will but wait." INTERLUDE Soon as the story reached its end, One, over eager to commend, Crowned it with injudicious praise; And then the voice of blame found vent, 5 And fanned the embers of dissent Into a somewhat lively blaze. The Theologian shook his head; "These old Italian tales," he said, "From the much-praised Decameron down 10 Through all the rabble of the rest. Are either trifling, dull, or lewd; The gossip of a neighborhood In some remote provincial town, A scandalous chronicle at best! 15 They seem to me a stagnant fen, Grown rank with rushes and with reeds, Where a white lily, now and then. Blooms in the midst of noxious weeds And deadly nightshade on its banks." 20 To this the Student straight replied, "For the white lily, many thanks! One should not say, with too much pride= Fountain, I will not drink of thee! Nor were it grateful to forget, 25 That from these reservoirs and tanks Even imperial Shakespeare drew His Moor of Venice and the Jew, And Romeo and Juliet, And many a famous comedy." 30 Then a long pause; till some one said, Tales of a Wayside Inn 319 "An angel is flying overhead! " At these words spake the Spanish Jew, And murmured with an inward breath: "God grant, if what you say. is true, 35 It may not be the Angel of Death! " And then another pause; and then, Stroking his beard, he said again: " This brings back to my memory A story in the Talmud told, 40 That book of gems, that book of gold, Of wonders many and manifold, A tale that often comes to me, And fills my heart, and haunts my brain. And never wearies nor grows old." THE SPANISH JEW'S TALE THE LEGEND OF RABBI BEN LEVI Rabbi Ben Levi, on the Sabbath, read A volume of the Law, in which it said, "No man shall look upon my face and live." And as he read, he prayed that God would give 6 His faithful servant grace with mortal eye To look upon his face and yet not die. Then fell a sudden shadow on the page And, lifting up his eyes, grown dim with age. He saw the Angel of Death before him stand, 10 Holding a naked sword in his right hand. Rabbi Ben Levi was a righteous man. Yet through his veins a chill of terror ran. With trembling voice he said, "What wilt thou here? '* The Angel answered, "Lo! the time draws near 15 When thou must die; yet first, by God's decree, Whate'er thou askest shall be granted thee." Replied the Rabbi, "Let these hving eyes First look upon my place in Paradise." Then said the Angel, "Come with me and look." 320 Narrative Poems of Longfellow 20 Rabbi Ben Levi closed the sacred book, And rising, and uplifting his gray head, J "Give me thy sword," he to the Angel said, "Lest thou shouldst fall upon me by the way." The Angel smiled and hastened to obey, 25 Then led him forth to the Celestial Town, , And set him on the wall, whence, gazing dow^i, ' Rabbi Ben Levi, with his living eyes, i Might look upon his place in Paradise. \ Then straight into the city of the Lord ') 30 The Rabbi leaped with the Death- Angel's sword, { And through the streets there swept a sudden breath ] Of something there unknown, which men call death. ' Meanwhile the Angel stayed without, and cried, j "Come back! " To which the Rabbi's voice replied, ■ 35 "No! in the name of God, whom I adore, ] I swear that hence I will depart no more! " j Then all the Angels cried, "O Holy One, j See what the son of Levi here hath done! I The kingdom of Heaven he takes by violence, i 40 And in Thy name refuses to go hence! " ' The Lord replied, "My Angels, be not wroth; , Did e'er the son of Levi break his oath? \ Let him remain; for he -with mortal eye | Shall look upon my face and yet not die." 45 Beyond the outer wall the Angel of Death ' Heard the great voice, and said, with panting breath • | "Give back the sword, and let me go my way." i Whereat the Rabbi paused, and answered, "Nay! Anguish enough already hath it caused j 50 Among the sons of men." And while he paused He heard the aw^ful mandate of the Lord \ Resounding through the air, "Give back the sword! " I The Rabbi bowed his head in silent prayer; Then said he to the dreadful Angel, " Swear, j 55 No human eye shall look on it again; i But v/hen thou takest away the souls of men, \ Thyself unseen, and with an unseen sword, i Tales of a Wayside Inn 321 Thou wilt perform the bidding of the Lord." The Angel took the sword again, and swore, 60 And walks on earth unseen forevermore. INTERLUDE He ended: and a kind of spell Upon the silent listeners fell. His solemn manner and his words Had touched the deep, mysterious chords, 5 That vibrate in each human breast Alike, but not alike confessed. The spiritual world seeriied near; And close above them, full of fear, Its awful adumbration passed, 10 A luminous shadow, vague and vast. They almost feared to look, lest there. Embodied from the impalpable air, They might behold the Angel stand, Holding the sword in his right hand. 15 At last, but in a voice subdued. Not to disturb their dreamy mood, Said the Sicilian: "While you spoke, Telling your legend marvellous, Suddenly in my memory woke 20 The thought of one, now gone from us, — An old Abate, meek and mild, My friend and teacher, when a child. Who sometimes in those days of old The legend of an Angel told, 25 W^hich ran, if I remember, thus." THE SICILIAN'S TALE . KING ROBERT OF SICILY Robert of Sicily, brother of Pope Urbane And Valmond, Emperor of Allemaine, Apparalled in magnificent attire, 322 Narrative Poems of Longfellow With retinue of many a knight and squire, 5 On St. John's eve, at vespers, proudly sat And heard the priests chant the Magnificat. And as he hstened, o'er and o'er again Repeated, hke a burden or refrain, He caught the words, " Deposuit potentes 10 De sede, et exaltavit huiniles"; And slowly Hfting up his kingly head He to a learned clerk beside him said, "What mean these words?" The clerk made answer meet, "He has put down the mighty from their seat, 15 And has exalted them of low degree," Thereat King Robert muttered scornfully, " 'T is well that such seditious words are sung Only by priests and in the Latin tongue; For unto priests and people be it known, 20 There is no power can push me from my throne! " And leaning back, he yawned and fell asleep. Lulled by the chant monotonous and deep. When he awoke, it was already night; The church was empty, and there was no light, 25 Save where the lamps, that glimmered few and faint, Lighted a little space before some saint. He started from his seat and gazed around, But saw no living thing and heard no sound. He groped towards the door, but it was locked; 30 He cried aloud, and listened, and then knocked. And uttered awful threatenings and complaints, And imprecations upon men and saints. The sounds re-echoed from the roof and walls As if dead priests were laughing in their stalls! 35 At length the sexton, hearing from without The tumult of the knocking and the shout, And thinking thieves were in the house of prayer. Came with his lantern, asking, "Who is there?" Half choked with rage. King Robert fiercely said, 40 "Open: 't is I, the King! Art thou afraid?" The frightened sexton, muttering, with a curse, "This is some drunken vagabond, or worse! " Turned the great key and flung the portal wide; Tales of a Wayside Inn 323 A man rushed by him at a single stride, 45 Haggard, half naked, without hat or cloak. Who neither turned, nor looked at him, nor spoke, But leaped into the blackness of the night, And vanished like a spectre from his sight. Robert of Sicily, brother of Pope Urbane 50 And Valmond, Emperor of Allemaine, Despoiled of his inagnificent attire, Bare-headed, breathless, and besprent with mire, With sense of wrong and outrage desperate, Strode on and thundered at the palace gate; 55 Rushed through the court-yard, thrusting in his rage To right and left each seneschal and page. And hurried up the broad and sounding stair. His white face ghastly in the torches' glare. From hall to hall he passed with breathless speed; 60 Voices and cries he heard, but did not heed, Until at last he reached the banquet-room, Blazing with light, and breathing with perfume. There on the dais sat another king, Wearing his robes, his crown, his signet-ring, 65 King Robert's self in features, form, and height, But all transfigured with angelic light! It was an Angel; and his presence there With a divine effulgence filled the air, An exaltation, piercing the disguise, 70 Through none the hidden Angel recognize. A moment speechless, motionless, amazed. The throneless monarch on the Angel gazed, Who met his looks of anger and surprise With the divine compassion of his eyes; 75 Then said, "Who art thou? and why com'st thou here?" To which King Robert answered, with a sneer, " I am the King, and come to claim my own From an impostor, who usurps my throne! " And suddenly, at these audacious words, 80 Up sprang the angry guests, and drew their swords; The Angel answered, with unruffled brow, "Nay, not the King, but the King's Jester, thou 324 Narrative Poems of Longfellow Henceforth shalt wear the bells and scalloped cape, And for thy counsellor shalt lead an ape; 85 Thou shalt obey my servants when they call, And wait upon my henchmen in the hall! " Deaf to King Robert's threats and cries and prayers, They thrust him from the hall and down the stairs; A group of tittering pages ran before, 90 And as they opened witle the folding-door. His heart failed, for he heard, with strange alarms, The boisterous laughter of the men-at-arms, And all the vaulted chamber roar and ring With the mock plaudits of "Long live the King! " 95 Next morning, waking with the day's first beam. He said within himself, "It was a dream! " But the straw rustl-ed as he turned his head. There were the cap and bells beside his bed. Around Iwm rose the bare, discolored walls, 100 Close by, the steeds were champing in their stalls, And in the corner, a revolting shape. Shivering and chattering sat the wretched ape. It was no dream; the world he loved so much Had turned to dust and ashes at his touch! 105 Days came and went; and now returned again To Sicily the old Saturnian reign; Under the Angel's governance benign The happy island danced with corn and wine. And deep within the mountain's burning breast 110 Enceladus, the giant, was at rest. Meanwhile King Robert yielded to his fate, Sullen and silent and disconsolate. Dressed in the motley garb that Jesters wear, With looks bewildered and a vacant stare, 115 Close shaven above the ears, as monks are shorn, By courtiers mocked, by pages laughed to scorn, His only friend the ape, his only food What others left, — he still was unsubdued. And when the Angel met him on his way, 120 And half in earnest, half in jest, would say, Tales of a Wayside Inn 325 Sternly, though tenderly, that he might feel The velvet scabbard held a sword of steel, "Art thou the King?" the passion of his woe Burst from him in resistless overflow, 125 And, lifting high his forehead, he would fling The haughty answer back, " I am, I am the King! " Almost three years were ended; when there came Ambassadors of great repute and name From Valmond, Emperor of Allemaine, 130 Unto King Robert, saying that Pope Urbane By letter summoned them forthwith to come On Holy Thursday to his city of Rome. The Angel with great joy received his guests, And gave them presents of embroidered vests, 135 And velvet mantles with rich ermine lined, And rings and jewels of the rarest kind. Then he departed with them o'er the sea Into the lovely land of Italy, Whose loveliness was more resplendent made 140 By the mere passing of that cavalcade. With plumes, and cloaks, and housings and the stir Of jewelled bridle and of golden spur. And lo! among the menials, in mock state,^ Upon a piebald steed, with shambling gait, 145 His cloak of fox-tails flapping in the wind, The solemn ape demurely perched behind. King Robert rode, making huge merriment In all the country towns through which they went. The Pope received them with great pomp, and blare 150 Of bannered trumpets, on Saint Peter's square, Giving his benediction and embrace. Fervent, and full of apostolic grace. While with congratulations and with prayers He entertained the Angel unawares, 155 Robert, the Jester, bursting through the crowd, Into their presence rushed, and cried aloud, "I am the King! Look, and behold in me Robert, your brother, King of Sicily! This man, who wears my semblance to your eyes. 32 G Narrative Poems of Longfellow 160 Is an impostor in a King's disguise. Do you not know me? does no voice within Answer my cry, and say we are akin?" The Pope in silence, but with troubled mien, Gazed at the Angel's countenance serene; 165 The Emperor, laughing, said, "It is strange sport To keep a madman for thy Fool at court! " And the poor, baffled Jester in disgrace Was hustled back among the populace. In solemn state the Holy Week went by, 170 And Easter Sunday gleamed upon the sky; The presence of the Angel, with its light. Before the sun rose, made the city bright. And with new fervor filled the hearts of men, Who felt that Christ indeed had risen again. 175 Even the Jester, on his bed of straw, With liaggard eyes the unwonted splendor saw, He felt within a power unfelt before. And, kneeling humbly on his chamber floor. He heard the rushing garments of the Lord 180 Sweep through the silent air, ascending heavenward. And now the visit ending, and once more Valmond returning to the Danube's shore, Homewartl the Angel journeyed, and again The lantl was made resplendent with his train, 185 Flashing along the towns of Italy Unto Salerno, and from thence by sea. And when once more within Palermo's wall, And, seated on the throne in his great hall. He heard the Angelus from convent towers, 190 As if the better world conversed with ours, He beckoned to King Robert to draw nigher, And with a gesture bade the rest retire; And when they were alone, the Angel said, "Art thou the King?" Then bowing down his head, 195 King Robert crossed both hands upon his breast. And meekly answered him: "Thou knowest best! My sins as scarlet are; Let me go hence, And in some cloister's school of penitence, Across those stones, that pave the way to heaven, Tales of a Wayside Inn 327 200 Walk barefoot, till my guilty soul is shriven! " The Angel smiled, and from his radiant face A holy light illumined all the place, And through the open window, loud and clear. They heard the monks chant in the chapel near, 205 Above the stir and tumult of the street: " He has put down the mighty from their seat, And has exalted them of low degree! " And through the chant a second melody Rose like the throbbing of a single string 210 "I am an Angel, and thou art the King! " King Robert, who was standing near the throne, Lifted his eyes, and lo! he was alone! But all apparelled as in days of old, With ermined mantle and with cloth of gold; 215 And when his courtiers came, they found him there Kneeling upon the floor, absorbed in silent prayer. INTERLUDE And then the blue-eyed Norseman told A Saga of the days of old. "There is," said he, "a wondrous book Of Legends in the old Norse tongue, 5 Of the dead kings of Norroway, — Legends that once were told or sung In many a smoky fireside nook Of Iceland, in the ancient day. By wandering Saga-man or Scald; 10 Heimskringla is the volume called; And he who looks may find therein The story that I now begin." And in each pause the story made Upon his violin he played, 15 As an appropriate interlude, Fragments of old Norwegian tunes That bound in one the separate runes, And held the mind in perfect mood, 328 Narrative Poems of Longfellow Entwining and encircling all 20 The strange and antiquated rhymes With melodies of olden times; As over some half-ruined wall, Disjointed and about to fall, Fresh woodbines climb and interlace, 25 And keep the loosened stones in place. THE MUSICIAN'S TALE , THE SAGA OF KING OLAF j I ■: THE CHALLENGE OF THOR ! I AM the God Thor, j I am the War God, I I am the Thunderer! Here in my Northland, ' 5 My fastness and fortress, \ Reign I forever! ; Here amid icebergs Rule I the nations; This is my hammer, 10 Miolner the mighty; Giants and sorcerers Cannot withstand it! These are the gauntlets Wherewith I wield it, 15 And hurl it afar off; This is my girdle; Whenever I brace it, Strength is redoubled! The light thou beholdest 20 Stream through the heavens, In flashes of crimson, Is but my red l)eard Blown by the night-wind, Affrighting the nations! Tales of a Wayside Inn 329 25 Jove is my brother; Mine eyes are the hshtning; The wheels of my chariot Roll in the thunder, The blows of my hammer 30 Ring in the earthquake! Force rules the world still, Has ruled it, shall rule it; Meekness is weakness. Strength is triumphant, 35 Over the whole earth Still is it Thor's-Day! Thou art a God too, O Galilean! And thus single-handed 40 Unto the combat, Gauntlet or Gospel, Here I defy thee! II KING OLAF's return And King Olaf heard the cry, Saw the red light in the sky, 45 Laid his hand upon his sword. As he leaned upon the railing, And his ships went sailing, sailing. Northward into Drontheim fiord. There he stood as one who dreamed; 50 And the red light glanced and gleamed On the armor that he wore; And he shouted, as the rifted Streamers o'er him shook and shifted, "I accept thy challenge, Thor! " 55 To avenge his father slain, And reconquer realm and reign, 330 Narrative Poems of LongfcUow Came the youthful Olaf home, j Through the midnight saihng, saihng, Listening to the wild wind's wailing, 60 And the dashing of the foam. To his thoughts the sacred name Of his mother Astrid came, And the tale she oft had told Of her flight by secret passes j 65 Through the mountains and morasses, ' To the home of Hakon old. Then strange memories crowded back ; Of Queen Gunhild's wrath and wrack, ^ And a hurried flight by sea; ^ 70 Of grim Vikings, and their rapture In the sea-fight and the capture, j And the life of slavery. How a stranger watched his face In the Esthonian market-place, 75 Scanned his features one by one. Saying, ''We should know each other; i I am Sigurd, Astrid 's brother. Thou art Olaf, Astrid's son! " 1 Then as Queen Allogia's page, 80 Old in honors, young in age, Chief of all her men-at-arms; Till vague whispers, and mysterious. Reached King Valdemar, the imperious, Filling him with strange alarms. 85 Then his cruisings o'er the seas, Westward to the Hebrides, And to Scilly's rocky shore; And the hermit's cavern dismal, Christ's great name and rites baptismal, 90 In the ocean's rush and roar. All these thoughts of love and strife Glimmered through his lurid life, Tales of a Wayside Inn 331 As the stars' intenser light Through the red flames o'er him traihng, 95 As his ships went saiHng, saihng, Northward in the summer night. Trained for either camp or court, Skilful in each manly sport, Young and beautiful and tall; 100 Art of warfare, craft of chases, Swimming, skating, snow-shoe races, Excellent alike in all. When at sea, with all his rowers. He along the bending oars 105 Outside of his ship could run. He the Smalsor Horn ascended. And his shining shield suspended On its summit, like a sun. On the ship-rails he could stand, 110 Wield his sword with either hand. And at once two javelins throw; At all feasts where ale was strongest Sat the merry monarch longest. First to come and last to go. 1 1 5 Norway never yet had seen One so beautiful of mien, One so royal in attire, When in arms completely furnished, Harness gold-inlaid and burnished, 120 Mantle Hke a flame of fire. Thus came Olaf to his own, When upon the night-wind blown, Passed that cry along the shore; And he answered, while the rifted 125 Streamers o'er him shook and shifted, "I accept thy challenge, Thor! " III THORA OF RIMOL "Thora of Rimol! hide me! hide me! Danger and shame and death betide me! 332 Narrative Poems of Longfellow For Olaf the King is hunting me down 130 Through field and forest, through thorp and town! " Thus cried Jarl Hakon To Thora, the fairest of women. "Hakon Jarl! for the love I bear thee Neither shall shame nor death come near thee! 135 But the hiding-place wherein thou must lie Is the cave underneath the swine in the sty." Thus to Jarl Hakon Said Thora, the fairest of women. So Hakon Jarl and his base thrall Karker 140 Crouched in the cave, than a dungeon darker, As Olaf came riding, with men in mail. Through the forest roads into Orkadale, Demanding Jarl Hakon Of Thora, the fairest of women. 1 45 " Rich and honored shall be whoever The head of Hakon Jarl shall dissever! " Hakon heard him, and Karker the slave. Through the breathing-holes of the darksome cave. Alone in her chamber 150 Wept Thora, the fairest of women. Said Karker, the crafty, "I will not slay thee! For all the King's gold I will never betray thee! " "Then why dost thou turn so pale, O churl, And then again black as the earth?" said the Earl. 155 More pale and more faithful Was Thora, the fairest of women. From a dream in the night the thrall started, saying, " Round my neck a gold ring King Olaf was laying! " And Hakon answered, "Beware of the king! IGO He will lay round thy neck a blood-red ring." At the ring on her finger Gazed Thora, the fairest of women. At daybreak slept Hakon, with sorrows encumbered, But screamed and drew up his feet as he slumbered; Tales of a Wayside Inn 333 165 The thrall in the darkness plunged with his knife, And the Earl awakened no more in this life. But wakeful and weeping Sat Thora, the fairest of women. At Nidarholm the priests are all singing, 170 Two ghastly heads on the gibbet are swinging. One is Jarl Hakon's and one is his thrall's, And the people are shouting from windows and walls; While alone in her chamber Swoons Thora, the fairest of women. IV QUEEN SIGRID THE HAUGHTY 175 Queen Sigrid the Haughty sat proud and aloft In her chamber, that looked over meadow and croft. Heart's dearest, Why dost thou sorrow so? The floor with tassels of fir was besprent, .180 Filling the room with their fragrant scent. She heard the birds sing, she saw the sun shine. The air of summer was sweeter than wine. Like a sword without scabbard the bright river lay Between her own Kingdom and Norroway. 185 But Olaf the King had sued for her hand. The sword would be sheathed, the river be spanned. Her maidens were seated around her knee. Working bright figures in tapestry. And one was singing the ancient rune 190 Of Brynhilda's love and the wrath of Gudrun. And through it, and round it, and over it all Sounded incessant the waterfall. 334 Narrative Poems of Long fellow The Queen in her hand held a ring of gold, From the door of Lade's Temple old. 195 King Olaf had sent her this wedding gift, But her thoughts as arrows were keen and swift. She had given the ring to her goldsmiths twain, Who smiled, as they handed it back again. And Sigrid the Queen, in her haughty way, 200 Said, "Why do you smile, my goldsmiths, say?" And they answered: ''O Queen! if the truth must be told, The ring is of copper, and not of gold! " The lightning flashed o'er her forehead and cheek, She only murmured, she did not speak: 205 " If in his gifts he can faithless be. There will be no gold in his love to me." A footstep was heard on the outer stair. And in strode King Olaf with royal air. He kissed the Queen's hand, and he whispered of love, 210 And swore to be true as the stars are above. But she smiled with contempt as she answered : " O Kingj Will you swear it, as Odin once swore, on the ring?" And the King: "O speak not of Odin to me, The wife of King Olaf a Christian must be." 215 Looking straight at the King, with her level brows, She said, "I keep true to my faith and my vows." Then the face of King Olaf was darkened with gloom, He rose in his anger and strode through the room. "Why, then, should I care to have thee?" he said, — 220 "A faded old woman, a heathenish jade! " His zeal was stronger than fear or love, And he struck the Queen in the face with his glove. Tales of a Wayside Inn Then forth from the chamber in anger he fled, And the wooden stairway shook with his tread. 225 Queen Sigrid the Haughty said under her breath, "This insult, King Olaf, shall be thy death!" Heart's dearest, Why dost thou sorrow so? THE SKERRY OF SHRIEKS Now from all King Olaf 's farms 230 His men-at-arms Gathered on the Eve of Easter; To his house at Angvalds-ness Fast they press. Drinking with the royal feaster. 235 Loudly through the wide-flung door Came the roar Of the sea upon the Skerry; And its thunder loud and near Reached the ear, 240 Mingling with their voices merry, " Hark! " said Olaf to his Scald, Halfred the Bald, "Listen to that song, and learn it! Half my kingdom would I give, 245 As I live, If by such songs you would earn it! " For of all the runes and rhymes Of all times, Best I like the ocean's dirges, 250 When the old harper heaves and rocks, His hoary locks Flowing and flashing in the surges!" Halfred answered: "I am called The Unappalled! 336 Narrative Poems of Longfellow 265 Nothing hinders me or daunts me. Hearken to me, then, O King, While I sing The great Ocean Song that haunts me." " I will hear your song sublime 260 Some other time," Says the drowsy monarch, yawning, And retires; each laughing guest Applauds the jest; Then they sleep till day is dawning. 265 Pacing up and down the yard, King Olaf s guard Saw the sea-mist slowly creeping O'er the sands, and up the hill, Gathering still 270 Round the house where they were sleeping. It was not the fog he saw. Nor misty flaw. That above the landscape brooded; j It was Eyvind Kallda's crew j 275 Of warlocks blue, I With their caps of darkness hoodedl Round and round the house they go, j Weaving slow | Magic circles to encumber , 280 And imprison in their ring j Olaf the King, | As he helpless lies in slumber. j Then athwart the vapors dun j The Easter sun I 285 Streamed with one broad track of splendor! j In their real forms appeared ; The warlocks weird, i Awful as the Witch of Endor. I Blinded by the light that glared, i 290 They groped and stared Tales of a Wayside Inn 337 Round about with steps unsteady; From his window Olaf gazed, And, amazed, "Who are these strange people?" said he. 295 "Eyvind Kallda and his men! " Answered then From the yard a sturdy farmer; While the men-at-arms apace Filled the place, 300 Busily buckling on their armor. From the gates they sallied forth. South and north. Scoured the island coast around them, Seizing all the warlock band, 305 Foot and hand On the Skerry's rocks they bound them. And at eve the King again Called his train. And, with all the candles burning, 310 Silent sat and heard once more The sullen roar Of the ocean tides returning. Shrieks and cries of wild despair Filled the air, 315 Growing fainter as they listened; Then the bursting surge alone Sounded on; — Thus the sorcerers were christened! "Sing, O Scald, your song sublime, 320 Your ocean-rhyme," Cried King Olaf: "it will cheer me! " Said the Scald, with pallid cheeks, "The Skerry of Shrieks Sings too loud for you to hear me! " 338 Narrative Poems of Longfellow VI THE WRAITH OF ODIN 325 The guests were loud, the ale was strong, King Olaf feasted late and long; The hoary Scalds together sang; O'erhead the smoky rafters rang. Dead rides Sir Morten of Fogelsang. 330 The door swung wide, with creak and din; A blast of cold night-air came in, And on the threshold shivering stood A one-eyed guest, with cloak and hood. Dead rides Sir Morten of Fogelsang. 335 The King exclaimed, "O graybeard pale! Come warm thee with this cup of ale." The foaming draught the old man quaffed. The noisy guests looked on and laughed. Dead rides Sir Morten of Fogelsang. 340 Then spake the King: "Be not afraid; Sit here by me." The guest obeyed. And, seated at the table, told Tales of the sea, and Sagas old. Dead rides Sir Morten of Fogelsang. 345 And ever, when the tale was o'er. The King demanded yet one more; Till Sigurd the Bishop smiling said, " 'T is late, O King, and time for bed." Dead rides Sir Morten of Fogelsang. 350 The King retired; the stranger guest Followed and entered with the rest; The lights were out, the pages gone. But still the garrulous guest spake on. Dead rides Sir Morten of Fogelsang. 355 As one who from a volume reads, He spake of heroes and their deeds, . Of lands and cities he had seen, Tales of a Wayside Inn 339 And stormy gulfs that tossed between. Dead rides Sir Morten of Fogelsang. 360 Then from his lips in music rolled The Havamal of Odin old, With sounds mysterious as the roar Of billows on a distant shore. Dead rides Sir Morten of Fogelsang. 365 "Do we not learn from runes and rhymes Made by the gods in elder times, And do not still the great Scalds teach That silence better is than speech?" Dead rides Sir Morten of Fogelsang. 370 Smiling at this, the King replied, "Thy lore is by thy tongue behed; For never was I so enthralled Either by Saga-man or Scald." Dead rides Sir Morten of Fogelsang. 375 The Bishop said, "Late hours we keep! Night wanes, O King, 't is time for sleep! " Then slept the King and when he woke The guest was gone, the morning broke. Dead rides Sir Morten of Fogelsang. 380 They found the doors securely barred. They found the watch-dog in the yard, There was no footprint in the grass, And none had seen the stranger pass. Dead rides Sir Morten of Fogelsang. 385 King Olaf crossed himself and said: "I know that Odin the Great is dead; Sure is the triumph of our Faith, The one-eyed stranger was his wraith." Dead rides Sir Morten of Fogelsang. VII IRON-BEARD 390 Olaf the King, one summer morn, Blew a blast on his bugle-horn, 340 Narrative Poems of Longfellow Sending his signal through the land of Drontheim. And to the Hus-Ting held at Mere Gathered the farmers far and near, 395 With their war weapons ready to confront him. Ploughing under the morning star, Old Iron-Beard in Yriar Heard the summons, chuckling with a low laugh. He wiped the sweat-drops from his brow, 400 Unharnessed his horses from the plough, And clattering came on horseback to King Olaf. He was the churliest of the churls; Little he cared for king or earls; Bitter as home-brewed ale were his foaming passions. 405 Hodden-gray was the garb he wore, And by the Hammer of Thor he swore; He hated the narrow tov/n, and all its fashions. But he loved the freedom of his farm. His ale at night, by the fireside warm, 410 Gudrun his daughter, with her flaxen tresses. He loved his horses and his herds. The smell of the earth, and the song of birds, His well-filled barns, his brook with its water-cresses. Huge and cumbersome was his frame; 415 His beard, from which he took his name, Frosty and fierce, like that of Hymer the Giant. So at the Hus-Ting he appeared. The farmer of Yriar, Iron-Beard, On horseback with an attitude defiant. 420 And to King Olaf he cried aloud, Out of the middle of the crowd, That tossed about him like a stormy ocean: " Such sacrifices shalt thou bring; To Odin and to Thor, O King, 425 As other kings have done in their devotion!" Talcs of a Wayside Inn 341 King Olaf answered: "I command This land to be a Christian land; Here is my Bishop who the folk baptizes! "But if you ask me to restore 430 Your sacrifices, stained with gore, Then will I offer human sacrifices! "Not slaves and peasants shall they be, But men of note and high degree. Such men as Orm of Lyra and Kar of Gryting! '* 435 Then to their Temple strode he- in. And loud behind him heard the din Of his men-at-arms and the peasants fiercely fighting. There in the Temple, carved in wood. The image of great Odin stood, 440 And other gods, with Tlior supreme among them. King Olaf smote them with the blade Of his huge war-axe, gold inlaid. And downward shattered to the pavement flung them. At the same moment rose without, 445 From the contending crowd, a shout, A mingled sound of triumph and of wailing. And there upon the trampled plain The farmer Iron-Beard lay slain, Midway between the assailed and the assailing. 450 King Olaf from the doorway spoke: "Choose ye between two things, my folk, To be baptized or given up to slaughter! " And seeing their leader stark and dead, The people with a murmur said, 455 "O King, baptize us with thy holy water!" So all the Drontheim land became A Christian land in name and fame, In the old gods no more believing and trusting. 342 Narrative Poems of Longfellow And as a blood-atonement, soon 460 King Olaf wed the fair Giidrun; And thus in peace ended the Drontheim Hus-Ting! VIII GUDRUN On King Olaf s bridal night Shines the moon with tender light, And across the chamber streams 465 Its tide of dreams. At the fatal midnight hour, When all evil things have power. In the glimmer of the moon Stands Gudrun. 470 Close against her heaving breast, Something in her hand is pressed; Like an icicle, its sheen Is cold and keen. On the cairn are fixed her eyes 475 Where her murdered father lies, And a voice remote and drear She seems to hear. What a bridal night is this! Cold will be the dagger's kiss; 480 Laden with the chill of death Is its breath. Like the drifting snow she sweeps To the couch where Olaf sleeps; Suddenly he wakes and stirs, 485 His eyes meet hers. "What is that," King Olaf said, "Gleams so bright above thy head? Wherefore standest thou so white In pale moonlight? r«/e.s of a Wayside Inn 343 490 " 'T is the bodkin that I wear When at night I bind my hair; It woke me falling on the floor 'T is nothing more." "Forests have ears, and fields have eyes; 495 Often treachery lurking lies Underneath the fairest hair! Gudrun, beware! " Ere the earliest peep of morn Blew King Olaf's bugle-horn; 500 And forever sundered ride Bridegroom and bride! IX THANGBRAND THE PRIEST Short of stature, large of limb, Burly face and russet beard, All the women stared at him, 505 When in Iceland he aj)pcared. "Look!" they said, With nodding head, "There goes Thangbrand, Olaf's Priest." All the prayers he knew by rote, 510 He could preach like Chrysostomo, From the Fathers he could (|uote, He had even been at Rome. A learned clerk, A man of mark, 515 Was this Thangbrand, Olaf's Priest. He was quarrelsome and loud, And impatient of control. Boisterous in the market crowd, Boisterous at the wassail-bowl, 520 Everywhere Would drink and swear, Swaggering Thangbrand, Olaf's Priest. 344 Narrative Poeyns of Longfellow In his house this malcontent Could the King no longer bear, 525 So to Iceland he was sent To convert the heathen there, And away One summer day Sailed this Thangbrand, Olaf s Priest. 530 There in Iceland, o'er their books Pored the people day and night. But he did not like their looks, Nor the songs they used to write. "All this rhyme 535 Is waste of time! " Grumbled Thangbrand, Olaf s Priest. To the alehouse, where he sat. Came the Scalds and Saga-men; Is it to be wonderctl at, 540 That they quarrelled now and then, When o'er his beer Began to leer Drunken Thangbrand, Olaf's Priest? All the folks in Altafiord 545 Boasted of their island grand; Saying in a single word, " Iceland is the finest land That the sun Doth shine upon!" 550 Loud laughed Thangbrand, Olaf's Priest. And he answered: "What's the use Of this bragging up and down. When three women and one goose Make a market in your town! " 555 Every Scald Satires scrawled On poor Thangbrand, Olaf's Priest. Something worse they did than that; And what vexed him most of all Tales of a Wayside Inn 345 5G0 Was a figure in shovel hat,. Drawn in charcoal on the wall; With words that go Sprawling below, "This is Thangbrand, Olaf's Priest." 565 Hardly knowing what he did. Then he smote them might and main, Thorvald Veile and Veterlid Lay there in the alehouse slain. "To-day we are gold, 570 To-morrow mould! " Muttered Thangbrand, Olaf's Priest. Much in fear of axe and rope, Back to Norway sailed he then. "O King Olaf! little hope 575 Is there of these Iceland men!" Meekly said, With bending head, Pious Thangbrand, Olaf's Priest. X RAUD THE STRONG "All the old gods are dead 580 All the wild warlocks fled; But the White Christ lives and reigns. And throughout my wide domains His Gospel shall be spread! " On the Evangelists 585 Thus swore King Olaf. But still in dreams of the night Beheld he the crimson light, And heard the voice that defied Him who was crucified, 590 And challenged him to the fight. To Sigurd the Bishop King Olaf confessed it. 346 Narrative Poems of Longfellow And Sigurd the Bishop said, "The old gods are not dead, 595 For the great Thor still reigns, And among the Jarls and Thanes The old witchcraft still is spread." Thus to King Olaf Said Sigurd the Bishop. 600 "Far north in the Salten Fiord, By rapine, fire, and sword, Lives the Viking, Raud the Strong; All the Godoe Isles belong To him and his heathen horde." 605 Thus went on speaking Sigurd the Bishop. "A warlock, a wizard is he, And lord of the wind and the sea; And whichever way he sails, 610 He has ever favoring gales, By his craft in sorcery." Here the sign of the cross made Devoutly King Olaf. "With rites that we both abhor, 615 He worships Odin and Thor; So it cannot yet be said. That all the old gods are dead. And the warlocks are no more." Flushing with anger 620 Said Sigurd the Bishop. Then King Olaf cried aloud: " I will talk with this mighty Raud, And along the Salten Fiord Preach the Gospel with my sword, 625 Or be brought back in my shroud! " So northward from Drontheim Sailed King Olaf! Tales of a Wayside Inn 347 XI BISHOP SIGURD AT SALTEN FIORD Loud the angry wind was wailing As King Olaf 's ships came sailing 630 Northward out of Drontheim haven To the mouth of Salten Fiord. Though the flying sea-spray drenches Fore and aft the rowers' benches, Not a single heart is craven 635 Of the champions there on board. All without the Fiord was quiet, , But within it storm and riot. Such as on his Viking cruises Raud the Strong was wont to ride. 640 And the sea through all its tide-ways Swept the reeling vessels sideways, As the leaves are swept through sluices, When the flood-gates open wide. " 'T is the warlock! 't is the demon 645 Raud! " cried Sigurd to the seamen; "But the Lord is not affrighted By the witchcraft of his foes." To the ship's bow he ascended. By his choristers attended, 650 Round him were the tapers lighted. And the sacred incense rose. On the bow stood Bishop Sigurd, In his robes, as one transfigured, And the Crucifix he planted 655 High amid the rain and mist. Then wqth holy water sprinkled All the ship; the mass-bells tinkled; Loud the monks around him chanted, Loud he read the Evangelist. 348 Narrative Poems of Longfellow 660 As into the Fiord they darted, On each side the water parted; Down a path hke silver molten Steadily rowed King Olaf s ships; Steadily burned all night the tapers, 665 And the White Christ through the vapors Gleamed across the Fiord of Salten, As through John's Apocalypse, — Till at last they reached Raud's dweUing On the little isle of Gelling; 670 Not a guard was at the doorway, Not a glimmer of light was seen. But at anchor, carved and gilded, Lay the dragon-ship he builded; 'T was the grandest ship in Norway, 675 With its crest and scales of green. Up the stairway, softly creeping. To the loft where Raud was sleeping, With their fists thoy burst asunder Bolt and bar that held the door. 680 Drunken with sleep and ale they found him, Dragged him from his bed and bound him, While he stared with stujMd wonder, At the look and garb they wore. Then King Olaf said: "O Sca-King! 685 Little time have we for speaking, Choose between the good and evil; Be baptized, or thou shalt die! " But in scorn the heathen scoffer Answered: "I disdain thine offer; 690 Neither fear I God nor Devil; Thee and thy Gospel I defy! " Then between his jaws distended. When his frantic struggles ended, Tales of a Wayside Inn 349 Through King Olaf's horn an adder, 695 Touched by fire, they forced to glide. Sharp his tooth was as an arrow, As he gnawed through bone and marrow; But without a groan or shudder, Raud the Strong blaspheming died. 700 Then baptized they all that region, Swarthy Lap and fair Norwegian, Far as swims the salmon, leaping. Up the streams of Salten Fiord. In their temples Thor and Odin 7 05 Lay in dust and ashes trodden. As King Olaf, onward sweeping. Preached the Gospel with his sword. Then he took the carved and gilded Dragon-ship that Raud had builded, 710 And the tiller single-handed. Grasping, steered into the main. Southward sailed the soa-gulls o'er him, Southward sailed the ship that bore him, Till at Drontheim haven landed 715 Olaf and his crew again. XII KING olaf's CHRISTMAS At Drontheim, Olaf the King Heard the bells of Yulc-tidc ring, As he sat in his banquet-hall. Drinking the nut-brown ale, 720 With his bearded Berserks hale And tall. Three days his Yule-tide feasts He held with Bishops and Priests, And his horn filled up to the brim; 725 But the ale was never too strong, 350 Narrative Poems of Longfellow Nor the Saga-man's tale too long, For him. O'er his drinking-horn, the sign He made of the cross divine, 730 As he drank, and muttered his prayers; But the Berserks evermore Made the sign of the Hammer of Thor Over theirs. The gleams of the fire-light dance 735 Upon helmet and hauberk and lance, And laugh in the eyes of the King; And he cries to Half red the Scald, Gray-bearded, wrinkled, and bald, "Sing!" 740 "Sing me a song divine, With a sword in every line, And this shall be thy reward." And he loosened the belt at his waist. And in front of the singer placed 745 ■ His sword. "Quern-biter of Hakon the Good, Wherewith at a stroke he hewed The millstone through and through, And Foot-breadth of Thoralf the Strong, 750 Were neither so broad nor so long. Nor so true." Then the Scald took his harp and sang, And loud through the music rang The sound of that shining word; 755 And the harp-strings a clangor made. As if they were struck with the blade Of a sword. And the Berserks round about Broke forth into a shout 760 That made the rafters ring: They smote with their fists on the board. Tales of a Wayside Inn 351 And shouted, "Long live the Sword, And the King! " But the King said, "O my son, '65 I miss the bright word in one Of thy measures and thy rhymes." And Halfred the Scald replied, "In another 't was multiplied Three times." '70 Then King Olaf raised the hilt Of iron, cross-shaped and gilt, And said, "Do not refuse; Count well the gain and the loss, Thor's hammer or Christ's cross: 75 Choose!" And Halfred the Scald said, "This In the name of the Lord I kiss, Who on it was crucified! " And a shout went round the board, '80 "In the name of Christ the Lord, Who died!" Then over the waste of snows The noonday sun uprose, Through the driving mists revealed, 85 Like the lifting of the Host, By incense-clouds almost Concealed. On the shining wall a vast And shadowy cross was cast 90 From the hilt of the lifted sword, And in foaming cups of ale The Berserks drank "Was-hael! To the Lord! " XIII THE BUILDING OF THE LONG SERPENT Thorberg Skafting, master-builder, '95 In his ship-yard by the sea, 352 Narrative Poemf^ of Longjellow 1 Whistling, said, '' It would bewilder Any man but Thorberg Skafting, Any man but me! " j { Near him lay the Dragon stranded, ■ 800 Built of old by Raud the Strong, ' And King Olaf had commanded ; He should built another Dragon, Twice as large and long. Therefore whistled Thorberg Skafting, j 805 As he sat with half-closed eyes. And his head turned sideways, drafting That new vessel for King Olaf | Twice the Dragon's size. Round him busily hewed and hammered ! 810 Mallet huge and heavy axe; ' Workmen laughed and sang and clamored; Whirred the wheels, that into rigging Spun the shining flaxl i All this tumult heard the master, — \ 815 It was music to his ear; I Fancy whispered all the faster, - • "Men shall hoar of Thorberg Skafting I For a hundred year! " j Workmen sweating at the forges 820 Fashioned iron bolt and bar. Like a warlock's midnight orgies Smoked antl bubbled the black caldron With the boiling tar. Did the warlocks mingle in it, 825 Thorberg Skafting, any curse? Could you not be gone a minute But some mischief must be doing, Turning bad to worse? 'T was an ill wind that came wafting, 830 From his homestead words of woe; Tales of a Wayside Inn 353 To his farm went Thorberg Skafting, Oft repeating to his workmen, Build ye thus and so. After long delays returning Came the master back by night; To his ship-yard longing, yearning, Hurried he, and did not leave it Till the morning's light. "Come and see my ship, my darlingl " On the morrow said the King; "Finished now from keel to carling; Never yet was seen in Norway Such a wondrous thing! " In the ship-yard, idly talking, At the ship the workmen stared: Some one, all their labor balking, Down her sides had cut deep gashes. Not a plank was spared 1 "Death be to the evil-doer!" With an oath King Olaf spoke; "But rewards to his pursuer!" And with wrath his face grew redder Than his scarlet cloak. Straight the master-builder, smiling, Answered thus the angry King: "Cease blaspheming and reviling, Olaf, it was Thorberg Skafting Who has done this thing! " Then he chipped and smoothed the planking. Till the King, delighted, swore. With much lauding and much thanking, "Handsomer is now my Dragon Than she was before! " Seventy ells and four extended On the grass the vessel's keel; 354 Narrative Poems of Longfellow High above it, gilt and splendid, , Rose the figure-head ferocious I With its crest of steel. ; Then they launched her from the tressels, 870 In the ship-yard by the sea; j She was the grandest of all vessels, : Never ship was built in Norway Half so fine as she I The Long Serpent was she christened, | 875 'Mid the roar of cheer on cheer! "j They who to the Saga listened ; Heard the name of Thorberg Skafting , For a hundred year! XIV THE CREW OF THE LONG SERPENT Safe at anchor in Drontheim bay 880 King Olaf's fleet assembled lay, And, striped with white and blue, Downward fluttered sail and banner, As alights the screaming lanner; Lustily cheered, in their wild manner, 885 The Long Serpent's crew. Her forecastle man was Ulf the Red; Like a wolf's was his shaggy head. His teeth as large and white; His beard, of gray and russet blended, 890 Round as a swallow's nest descended; As standard-bearer he defended Olaf's flag in the fight. Near him Kolbiorn had his place, Like the King in garb and face, 895 So gallant and so hale: Every cabin-boy and varlet Wondered at his cloak of scarlet; Talcs of a Wayside Inn 355 Like a river, frozen and star-lit, Gleamed his coat of mail. 900 By the bulkhead, tall and dark, Stood Thrand Rame of Tholemark, A figure gaunt and grand; On his hairy arm imprinted AVas an anchor, azure-tinted; 905 Like Thor's hammer, huge and dinted Was his brawny hand. Einar Tamberskelver, Ixare To the winds his golden hair, By the mainmast stood; 910 Graceful was his form, and slender. And his eyes were deep anil tender As a woman's in the splendor Of her maidenhood. In the fore-hold Biorn and Bork 915 Watched the sailors at their work: Heavens! how they swore! Thirty men they each conunanded, Iron-sinewed, horny-handed, Shoulders broad, and chests expanded, 920 Tugging at the oar. These, and many more like thes , With King Olaf sailed the seas. Till the waters vast Filled them with a vague devotion, 925 With the freedom and the motion, With the roll and roar of ocean And the sounding blast. When they landed from the fleet, How they roared through Drontheim's street, 930 Boisterous as the gale! How they laughed and stamped and pounded, Till the tavern roof resounded, And the host looked on astounded As they drank the ale! 356 Narrative Poems of Longfellow 935 Never saw the wild North Sea Such a gallant company Sail its billows blue! Never, while they cruised and quarrelled, Old King Gorm, or Blue-Tooth Haraldj 940 Owned a ship so well apparelled Boasted such a crew! XV A LITTLE BIRD IN THE AIR A LITTLE bird in the air Is singing of Thyri the fair, The sister of Svend the Dane; 945 . And the song of the garrulous bird In the streets of the town is heard, And repeated again and again. Hoist up your sails of silk, And flee away from each other. 950 To King Burislaf, it is said. Was the beautiful Thyri wed. And a sorrowful bride went she; And after a week and a day, She has fled away and away, 955 From his town by the stormy sea. Hoist up your sails of silk, And flee away from each other. They say, that through heat and through cold. Through weald, they say, and through wold, 960 By day and by night, they say. She has fled; and the gossips report She has come to King Olaf's court, And the town is all in dismay. Hoist up your sails of silk, 965 And flee away from each other. It is whispered King Olaf has seen, Has talked with the beautiful Queen; Tales of a Wayside Inn 357 And they wonder how it will end; For surely, if here she remain, 970 It is war with King Svend the Dane, And King Burislaf the Vend! Hoist up your sails of silk, And flee away from each other. O, greatest wonder of all! 975 It is published in hamlet and hall, It roars hke a flame that is fanned The King — yes, Olaf the King — Has wedded her with his ring, And Thyri is Queen in the land! 980 Hoist up your sails of silk. And flee away from each other. XVI QUEEN THYRI AND THE ANGELICA STALKS Northward over Drontheim, Flew the clamorous sea-gulls, Sang the lark and linnet 985 From the meadows green; Weeping in her chamber, Lonely and unhappy, Sat the Drottning Thyri, Sat King Olaf's Queen. 990 In at all the windows Streamed the pleasant sunshine, On the roof above her Softly cooed the dove; But the sound she heard not, 995 Nor the sunshine heeded. For the thoughts of Thyri Were not thoughts of love. Then King Olaf entered, Beautiful as morning, 358 Narrative Poems of Longfellow 1 000 Like the sun at Easter Shone his happy face; In his hand he carried AngeHcas uprooted, With dehcious fragrance 1005 Filhng all the place. Like a rainy midnight Sat the Drottning Thyri, Even the smile of Olaf Could not cheer her gloom; 1010 Nor the stalks he gave her With a gracious gesture, And with words as pleasant As their own perfume. In her hands he placed them, 1015 And her jewelled fingers Through the green leaves glistened Like the dews of morn; But she cast them from her. Haughty and indignant, 1020 On the floor she threw them With a look of scorn. "Richer presents," said she, "Gave King Harald Gormson To the Queen, my mother, 1025 Than such worthless weeds. "When he ravaged Norway, Laying waste the kingdom. Seizing scatt and treasure For her royal needs. 1030 "But thou darest not venture Through the Sound to Vendland, My domains to rescue From King Burislaf ; Tales of a Wayside Inn 359 " Lest King Svend of Denmark, 1035 Forked Beard, my brother, Scatter all thy vessels As the wind the chaff." Then up sprang King Olaf, Like a reindeer bounding, 1040 With an oath he answered Thus the luckless Queen: " Never yet did Olaf Fear King Svend of Denmark; This right hand shall hale him 1045 By his forked chin! " Then he left the chamber. Thundering through the doorway, Loud his steps resounded Down the outer stair. 1050 Smarting with the insult, Through the streets of Drontheim Strode he red and wrathful, With his stately air. All his ships he gathered, 1055 Summoned all his forces, Making his war levy In the region round; Down the coast of Norway, Like a flock of sea-gulls, 1060 Sailed the fleet of Olaf Through the Danish Sound. With his own hand fearless. Steered he the Long Serpent, Strained the creaking cordage, 1065 Bent each boom and gaff; Till in Vendland landing. The domains of Thyri 360 Narrative Poems of Longfellow \ He redeemed and rescued ' From King Burislaf. 1070 Then said Olaf, laughing, "Not ten yoke of oxen Have the power to draw us i Like a woman's hair! I; "Now I will confess it, 1075 Better things are jewels j Then angelica stalks are ' For a Queen to wear." ^ XVII KING SVEND OF THE FOKKED BEARD Loudly the sailors cheered Svend of the Forked Beard, lOSO As with his fleet he steered Southward to Vendland; AMu re with their courses hauled All were together called, Under the Isle of Svald 1085 Near to the mainland. After Queen Gunhild's death, So the old Saga saith, • Plighted King Svend his faith To Sigrid the Haughty; 1090 And to avenge his bride, Soothing her wounded pride, Over the waters wide King Olaf sought he. Still on her scornful face, 1095 Blushing with deep disgrace, Bore she the crimson trace Of Olaf's gauntlet; Like a malignant star, Blazing in heaven afar. Talcs of a Wnifsidc Inn 361 1100 Red shone the angry scar Under her frontlet. Oft to King Svend she spake, "For thine own honor's sake, Shalt thou swift vengeance take 1 1 05 On the vile coward! " Until the King at last, Gusty and overcast, Like a tempestuous i)last Threatened and lowered. 1110 Soon as the Spring appeared, Svend of the Forked Beard High his red standard reared, ICager for battle; While every warlike Dane, 1115 Seizing his arms again. Left all unsown the grain. Unhoused the cattle. Likewise the Swedisii King Summoned in haste a 'thing, 1120 "\Vea{>()ns and men to l)ring In aid of Demnark; Eric the Norseman, too. As the war-tidings flew. Sailed with a chosen crew 1125 From Lapland and Fimnark. So upon Easter day Sailed the three kings away, Out of the sheltered bay. In the bright season; 1130 With them Earl Sigvald came, Eager for spoil and fame; Pity that such a name Stooped to such treason. Safe under Svald at last, 1135 Now were their anchors cast. Safe from the sea and blast, 362 Narrative Poems of Longfellow Plotted the three kings; AVhile, with a base intent, Southward Earl Sigvald went, 1140 On a foul errand bent, Unto the Sea-kings. Thence to hold on his course, I^nto King Olaf s force, Lying within the hoarse 1145 Mouths of Stet-haven; Him to ensnare and bring, ITnto the Danish king, Who his dead corse would fling Forth to the raven! XVIII KING OLAF AND EARL SIGVALD 1150 On the gray sea-sands King Olaf stands. Northward and seaward He points with his hands. With eddy and whirl 1155 The sea-tides curl, Washing the sandals Of Sigvald the Earl. The mariners shout. The ships swing about, 1160 The yards are all hoisted, The sails flutter out. The war-horns are played, The anchors are weighed. Like moths in the distance 1165 The sails flit and fade. The sea is like lead, The harbor hes dead, Talea of a Wayside Inn 363 As a corse on the sea-shore, Whose spirit has fled! 1170 On that fatal day, The histories say, Seventy vessels Sailed out of the bay. But soon scattered wide 1175 O'er the billows they ride, While Sigvald and Olaf Sail side by side. Cried the Earl :'' Follow me! I your pilot will be, ] 180 For I know all the channels Where flows the deep sea!" So into the strait Where his foes lie in wait. Gallant King Olaf 1185 Sails to his fate! . Then the sea-fog veils The ships and their sails; Queen Sigrid the Haughty, Thy vengeance prevails! XIX KING OLAF's war-horns 1190 "Strike the sails! " King Olaf said; "Never shall men of mine take flight; Never away from battle I fled, Never away from my foes! Let God dispose 1195 Of my life in the fight! " "Sound the horns!" said Olaf the King; And suddenly through the drifting brume 364 Narrative Poems oj Longjcllow The blare of the horns began to ring, Like the terrible trumpet shock 1200 Of Regnarock, On the Day of Doom! Louder and louder the war-horns sang Over the level floor of the flood; All the sails eanie down with a clang, 1205 And there in the mist overhead The sun hung red As a drop of blood. Drifting down on the Danish fleet Three together the ships were lashed, 1210 So that neither should turn and retreat; In the midst, but in front of the rest The burnished crest Of the Serpent flashed. King Olaf stood on the quarter-deck, 1215 With bow of ash and arrows of oak, His gilded shield was without a fleck. His helmet inlaid with gold, And in many a fold Hung his crimson cloak. 1220 On the forecastle Ulf the Red Watched the lashing of the ships; "If the Serpent lie so far ahead, We shall have hard work of it here." Said he with a sneer 1225 On his bearded lips. > King Olaf laid an arrow on string, "Have I a coward on board?" said he. "Shoot it another way, O King! " Sullenly answered I^lf, 1230 The old sea-wolf; "You have need of me! " In front came Svend, the King of the Danes, Sweeping down with his fifty rowers; Tales of a Wayside Inn 365 To the right, the Swedish king with his thanes; 1235 And on board of the Iron Beard Earl Eric steered To the left with his oars. "These soft Danes and Swedes," said the King, "At home with their wives had better stay, 1240 Than come within reach of my Herpent's sting: But where Eric the Norseman leads Heroic deeds Will be done to-day! " Then as together the vessels crashed, 1245 Eric severed the cables of hide, With which King Olaf's ships were lashed, And left them to drive and drift With the currents swift Of the outward tide. 1250 Louder the war-horns growl and snarl. Sharper the dragons bite and sting! Eric the son of Hakon Jarl A death-drink salt as the sea Pledges to thee, 1255 Olaf the King! XX EINAR TAMBERSKELVER It was Einar Tamberskelver Stood beside the mast; From his yew-bow, tipped with silver, Flew the arrows fast; 1260 Aimed at Eric unavailing, As he sat concealed, Half behind the quarter-railing, Half behind his shield. First an arrow struck the tiller, 1265 Just above his head; 366 Narrative Poems of Longfellow "Sing, O Eyvind Skaldaspillcr," Then Earl Eric said. "Sing the song of Hakon dying, Sing his funeral wail! " 1270 And another arrow flying Grazed his coat of mail. Turning to a Lapland yeoman, As the arrow passed. Said Earl Eric, "Shoot that bowman 1275 Standing by the mast." Sooner than the word was sj)oken Flew the yeoman's shaft; Einar's bow in twain was broken, Einar only laughed. 1280 "What was that?" said Olaf, standing On the quarter-deck. "Something heard I like the stranding Of a shattered wreck." Einar then, the arrow taking 1285 From the loosened string, Answered, "That was Nf)rway breaking From thy hand, O king!" "Thou art but a poor diviner," Straightway Olaf said; 1290 "lake my bow, and swifter, Einar, Let thy shafts be sped." Of his bows the fairest choosing, Reached he from above; Einar saw the blood-drops oozing 1295 Through his iron glove. But the bow was thin and narrow; At the first assay. O'er its head he drew the arrow, Flung the bow away; 1300 Said, with hot and angry temper Flushing in his cheek, "Olaf! for so great a Kamper Are thy bows too weak! " Tales of a Way side Inn 367 Then, with smile of joy defiant 1305 . On his beardless Up, Scaled he, light and self-reliant, Erie's dragon-ship. Loose his golden locks were flowing, Bright his armor gleameil; 1310 Like Saint Michael overthrowing Lucifer he seemed. XXI KING OLAF's DEATH-DHINK All day has the battle raged, All day have the ships engaged. But not yet is assuaged 1315 The vengeance of Eric the Earl. The decks with blood are red, The arrows of death are sped. The ships are filled with the ilead And the spears the champions hurl. 1320 They drift as wrecks on the tide. The grappling-irons are plied. The boarders climb up the side. The shouts are feeble and few. Ah! never shall Norway again 1325 See her sailors come Ijack o'er the main; They all lie wounded or slain. Or asleep in the billows 1^1 ue! On the deck stands Olaf the King, Around him whistle and sing 1330 The spears that the foemen fling. And the stones they hurl with their hands. In the midst of the stones and the spears, Kolbiorn, the marshal, appears, His shield in the air he uprears, 1335 By the side of King Olaf he stands. 368 Narrative Poems of Longfellow Over the slippery wreck Of the Long Serpent's deck Sweeps Eric with hardly a check, His lips with anger are pale; 1340 He hews with his axe at the mast, Till it falls, with the sails overcast, Like a snow-covered pine in the vast Dim forests of Orkadale. Seeking King Olaf then, 1345 He rushes aft with his men, As a hunter into the den Of the bear, when he stands at bay. "Remember Jarl Plakon! " he cries; ' When lo! on his wondering eyes, 1350 Two kingly figures arise, Two Olafs in warlike array! Then Kolbiorn speaks in the ear Of King Olaf a word of cheer, In a whisper that none may hear, 1355 With a smile on his tremulous lip; Two shields raised high in the air, Two flashes of golden hair. Two scarlet meteors' glare, And both have leaped from the ship. 1360 Earl Eric's men in the boats Seize Kolbiorn's shield as it floats, And cry, from their hairy throats, "See! it is Olaf the King!". While far on the opposite side 1365 Floats another shield on the tide Like a jewel set in the wide Sea-current's eddying ring. There is told a wonderful tale, How the King stripped off his mail, Tales of a Wayside Inn 369 1370 Like leaves of the brown sea-kale, As he swam beneath the. main; But the young grew old and gray, And never, by night or by day. In his kingdom of Norroway 1375 Was King Olaf seen again! XXII THE NUN OF NIDAROS In the convent of Drontheim, Alone in her chamber Knelt Astrid the Abbess, At midnight, adoring, 1380 Beseeching, entreating The Virgin and Mother. . She heard in the silence The voice of one speaking. Without in the darkness, 1385 . In gusts of the night-wind Now louder, now nearer. Now lost in the distance. The voice of a stranger It seemed as she listened, 1390 Of some one who answered, Beseeching, imploring, A cry from afar off She could not distinguish. The voice of Saint John, 1395 The beloved disciple, Who wandered and waited The Master's appearance, Alone in the darkness, Unsheltered and friendless, 1400 " It is accepted The angry defiance, 370 Narrative Poems of Longfellow The challenge of battle! It is accepted, But not with the weapons 1405 Of war that thou wieldesti " Cross against corselet, Love against hatred, Peace-cry for war-cry! Patience is powerful; 1410 He that o'ercometh Hath power o'er the nationsl "As torrents in summer. Half dried in their channels, Suddenly rise, though the 1415 Sky is still cloudless, For rain has been falling Far off at their fountains; " So hearts that are fainting Crow full to o'erflowing, 1420 Anil they that behold it Marvel, and know not That God at their foiuitains Far off has been raining! 1425 " Stronger than steel Is the sword of the Spirit; Swifter than arrows The light of the truth is. Greater than anger Is love, and subdueth! 1430 "Thou art a phantom, A shape of the sea-mist, A shape of the brumal Rain, and the darkness Fearful and formless; 1435 Day dawns and thou art not! "The dawn is not distant, Nor is the night starless; Tales of a Wayside Inn 371 Love is eternal! God is still God, and His faith shall not fail us; Christ is eternal! " IXTERU^DE A STRAIN of music closed the tale, A low, monotonous, funeral wail, That with its cadence, wild and sweet, Made the long Saga more complete. 5 "Thank God," the Theologian said, "Tlu! reign of violence is dead. Or dying surely from the world; W hile Love triumphant reigns instead, And in a brighter sky o'erhead 10 His blessed banners are unfurled. And most of all thank God for this: The war and waste of clashing creeds Now end in words, and not in dee(ls, And no one suffers loss, or bleeds, 15 For thoughts that men call heresies. "I .stand without here in the porch, 1 hear the bell's melodious din, 1 hear the organ peal within, I hear the prayer, with words that scorch 20 Like sparks from an inverted torch, I hear the sermon upon sin, \\"\t\\ threatenings of the last accf)unt. And all, translated in the air. Reach me but as our dear Lord's Prayer, 25 And as the Sermon on the Mount. "Must it be Calvin, and not Christ, Must it be Athanasian creeds, Or holy water, books, and beads? Must struggling souls remain content 30 With councils and decrees of Trent? And can it be enough for these ;^72 Narrddre Pocmft of Longfellow The Christian Church the year embahns With evergreens and bou«i;hs of pahns, And fills the air with litanies? 35 " I know that yonder Pharisee Thanks God that he is not like nie; In my hmniliation dressed, 1 only stand and l)eat my breast, And pray for human charity. 40 " Not to one church alone, but seven The voice prophetic spake from heaven; And unto each the promise came, l)iv(>rsified, but still the same; For him that overcomcth are 45 The new name written on the stone, The raiment white, the crown, the throne, And I will give him the Morning Star! "Ah! to how many Faith has been No evidence of things unseen, 5U But a dim shadow, that recasts Tlu' creed of the Phantasiasts, For whom no Man of Sorrows died, For whom the Tragedy Divine Was but a symbol and a sign, 55 And Christ a phantom crucifieil! " For others a diviner creed Is living in the life they lead. The passing of tluMr beautiful feet Blesses the pavement of the street, 6U And all their looks and wortls repeat Old Fuller's saying, wise and sweet, Not as a vulture, but a dove, The Holy Ghost came from above. "And this brings back to me a tale 65 So sad the hearer well may cpiail, And question if such things can be; Yet in the chronicles of Spain Down the dark pages runs this stain, Tales of a Wayside Inn 373 And naught can wash them white again, 70 So fearful is the tragedy. THE THEOLOGIAN'S TALE TOHQUEMADA In the heroic days when Ferdinand And Isabella rulfd the Si)anish land, And Torqueniada, with his subtle brain, Iluicil tlicni, as Grand In(|uisit()r of Spain, 5 In a great castle near N'alladoiid, Moated and high and by fair woodlands hiil, There dwelt, as from the chronicles we learn, An old Hidalgo proud and taciturn, Whf)se name has perished, with his towers of stone, 10 And all his actions save this one alone; This one, so terrible, perhaps 't were best If it, too, were forgotten with the rest; Tidess, perchance, our ey(\s can see therein The martyrdom triumphant o'er the sin; 15 A double picture, with its gloom and glow, The S|)l(>n(lor overhead, the death below. This sombre man covmted each day as lost On whieh his feet no sacred threshold crossed; And when he chancecl the passing Host to meet, 20 He knelt and prayed devoutly in the stre<'t; Oft he confessed; and with each mutinous thought, As with wild beasts at Ephesus, he fought. In deep contrition scourged himself in Lent, Walked in processions, with his head down bent, 25 At plays of Corpus Christi oft was seen. And on Palm Sunday bore his bough of green. His only pastime was to hunt the l>oar Through tangled thickets of the forest hoar, Or with his jingling mules to hurry down 30 To some grand bull-fight in the neighboring town. Or in the crowd with lighted taper stand, When Jews were burned, or banished from the land. Then stirred within him a tumultuous joy; The demon whose delight is to destroy 374 Xarrative Poetns of Longfellow 35 Shook him, and shouted with a trumpet tone, "Kill! Kill! and let the Lord find out his own!" And now, in that old castle in the wood, His daughters, in the dawn of womanhood, Returning from their convent school, had made 40 Resplendent with their bloom the forest shade, Reminding him of their dead mother's face, When first she came into that gloomy place, — A memory in his heart as dim and sweet As moonlight in a solitary street, 45 Where the same rays, that lift the sea, are thrown Lovely but powerless upon walls of stone. These two fair daughters of a mother dead Were all the tlream had left him as it fled. A joy at first, and then a growing care, 50 As if a voice witliin him cried, "Hcware!" A vague presentiment (jf impending doom. Like ghostly footsteps in a vacant room. Haunted him day and night; a formless fear That dtnith to some one of his house was near, 55 With dark surmises of a hidden crime, Made life itself a death before its time. Jealous, suspicious, with no sense of shame, A spy upon his daughters be became; With velvet slippers, noiseless on the floors, 60 He glidetl softly through half-open doors; Now in the room, and now upon the stair. He stood beside them ere they were aware; He listened in the passage when they talked. He watched them from the casement when they walked, 65 He saw the gypsy haunt the river's side He saw the monk among the cork-trees glitle; And, tortured by the mystery and the doubt Of some dark secret, past his finding out, Baffled he paused; then reassured again 70 Pursued the flying phantom of his brain. He watched them even when they knelt in church; And then, descending lower in his search. Questioned the servants, and with eager eyes Listened incredulous to their replies; 75 The gypsy? none had seen her in the wood! Tales of a Wayside Inn 375 The monk? a mendicant in search of food! At length the awful revelation came, Crushing at once his pride of birth and name, The hopes his yearning bosom forward cast, 80 And the ancestral glories of the past, All fell together crumbling in disgrace, A turret rent from battlement to l3ase. His daughters talking in the dead of night In their own chamlier, anil without a light, 85 Listening, as he was wont, he overheard, And learned the dreadful secret, word i)y word; And hurrying from his castle, with a cry He raised his hands to the unpitying sky, Rejx-ating one dread word, till bush and tree 90 Caught it, and shuddering answered, "Heresy!" Wrapped in his cloak, his hat drawn o'er his face Now hurrying forward, now with lingering [)ace, He walked all night the alleys of his park, With one unseen coni{)anion in the dark, 9o The Demon who within him lay in wait. And by his presence turned his love to hate. Forever muttering in an undertone, "Kill! kill! and let the Lord find out his own!" T'pon the morrow, after early Mass, 100 While yet the dew was glistening on the grass, And all the woods were musical with birds, The old Hidalgo, uttering fearful words, Walked homeward with the Priest, and in his room Summoned his trembling daughters to their doom. 105 When questioned, with brief answers they replied, Nor when accused evaded or denied; Expostulations, passionate appeals, All that the human heart most fears or feels. In vain the Priest with earnest voice essayed, 110 In vain the father threatened, wept, and prayed; Until at last he said, with haughty mien, "The Holy Office, then must intervene! " And now the Grand Inquisitor of Spain, With all the fifty horsemen of his train, 376 Narrative Poems of Jjongfellow 1 15 His awful name resounding like the blast, Of funeral trumpets, as he onward passed, Came to Valladolid, and there began To harry the rich Jews with fire and ban. To him the Hidalgo went, and at the gate 120 Demanded audience on affairs of state. And in a secret chamber stood before A venerable grayl)eard of fourscore, Dressed in the hood and habit of a friar; Out of his eyes flashed a consuming fire, 125 And in his hand the mystic horn he held, Which poison and all noxious charms dispelled. He heard in silence the Hidalgo's tale, Then answered in a voice that made him quail: "Son of the Church! when Abraham of old 130 To sacrifice his only son was told. He did not i)ause to parley nor protest, But hasteiieil to obey the Lord's behest. In him it was accounted rightef)usness; The Holy Church expects of thee no less! " 135 A sacred frenzy seized the father's brain. And Mercy from that hour implored in vain. Ah! who will e'er believe the words I say? His daughters he accused, and the same day They both were cast into the dungeon's gloom, 140 That dismal antechamber of the tomb. Arraigned, condemned, and sentenced to the flame, The secret torture and the public shame. Then to the Grand Inquisitor once more The Hidalgo went, more eager than before, 145 And said: "When Abraham offered up his son. He clave the wood wherewith it might be done. By his example taught, let me too bring Wood from the forest for my offering! " And the deep voice, without a pause, replied: 150 "Son of the Church! by faith now justified, Complete thy sacrifice, even as thou wilt; The Church absolves thy conscience from all guilt! " Then this most wretched father went his way Into the woods, that round his castle lay, Tales of a Wayside Inn 377 155 Where once his daughters in their childhood played With their young mother in the sun and shade. Now all the leaves had fallen; the branches bare. Made a perpetual moaning in the air, And screaming from their eyries overhead 160 The ravens sailed athwart the sky of lead. With his own hands he lopped the boughs and bound Fagots, that crackled with fore])oding sound, And on his mules, caparisoned and gay With bells and tassels, sent them on their way. 165 Then with his mind on one dark purpose bent. Again to the hujuisitor he went, And said: "Behold, the fagots I have brought, And now, lest my atonement be as naught. Grant mo one more request, one last desire — 170 With my own hand to light the funeral fire!" And Torquemada answered from his seat, "Son of the Church! Thine offering is complete; Her servants through all ages shall not cease To magnify thy deed. Depart in peace! " 175 Upon the market-place, huilded of stone The scaffold rose, whereon Death claimed his own. At the four corners, in stern attitude. Four statues of the ITcl>rew prophets stood. Gazing with calm indifference in their eyes 180 Upon this place of human sacrifice. Round which was gathering fast the eager crowd, With clamor of voices dissonant and loud. And every roof and window was alive With restless gazers, swarming like a hive. 185 The church-bells tolled, the chant of monks drew near, Loud trumpets stammered forth their notes of fear, A line of torches smoked along the street, There was a stir, a rush, a tramp of feet. And, with its banners floating in the air, 190 Slowly the long procession crossed the square, And, to the statues of the Prophets bound, The victims stood, with fagots piled around. Then all the air a blast of trumpets shook, 378 Narrative Poems of Longfelloiv And louder sang the monks with bell and book, 195 And the Hidalgo, lofty, stern, and proud, • Lifted his torch, and bursting through the crowd, Lighted in haste the fagots, and then fled. Lest those imploring eyes should strike him dead! O pitiless skies! why did your clouds retain 230 For peasants' fields their floods of hoarded rain? () {)itiless earth! why op(n(Ml no abyss To bury in its chasm a crime like this? That night, a mingled column of fire and smoke From the dark thickets of the forest broke, 205 And, glaring o'er the landscape leagues away, Made all the fields and hamlets bright as day. "Wrapped in a sheet of flame the castle blazed, And as the villagers in terror gazed. They saw the figure of that cruel knight 210 Lean from a window in the turret's height, His ghastly face illumined with the glare, His hands upraised al)Ove his head in prayer, Till the floor sank beneath him, and ho fell Down the black hollow of that burning well. 215 Three centuries and more above his bones Have piled the ol)livious years like funeral stones; His name has perished with him, and no trace Remains on earth of his afflicted race; But Torquemada's name, with clouds o'ercast, 220 Looms in the distant landscape of the Past, Like a burnt tower upon a blackened heath. Lit by the fires of burning woods beneath! INTERLUDE Thus closed the tale of guilt and gloom, That cast upon each listener's face Its shadow, and for some brief space L^nbroken silence filled the room. The Jew was thoughtful and distressed; Upon his memory thronged and pressed - i Tales of a Wayside Inn 379 The persecution of his race, Their wrongs and sufferings and disgrace; His head was sunk upon his breast, 10 And from his eyes ahernatc came Flashes of wrath and tears of shame. The Student first the silence broke. As one who long has lain in wait, With purpose to retaliate, 15 And thus he dealt the avenging stroke. "In such a company as this, A tale so tragic seems amiss, That by its terrible control O'ermasters and drags down the soul 20 Into a fathomless abyss. The Italian tales that you disdain, Some merry Night of Straparole, Or Machiavelli's Belphagor, ^^'ould cheer us and delight us more, 2.5 Give greater pleasure and less pain Than your grim tragedies of Spain!" And here the Poet raised his hand, With such entreaty and command, It stopped discussion at its birth, 30 And said- "The story I shall tell Has meaning in it, if not mirth; Listen, and iK'ar what once befell The merry birds of Killingworth! " THE POET'S TALE THE BIRDS OF KILLINGWORTH It was the season, when through all the land The merle and mavis build, and building sing Those lovely lyrics, written by His hand. Whom Saxon Csedmon calls the Blithe-heart King; When on the boughs the purple buds expand. The banners of the vanguard of the Spring, And rivulets, rejoicing, rush and leap, 380 Narrative Poems of Lojigjcllow And wave their fluttering signals from the steep. The robin and the bhie-bird, piping loud, 10 Filled all the blossoming orchards with their glee; The sparrows chirped as if they still were proud Their race in Holy Writ should mentioned be; And hungry crows assembled in a crowd, Clamored their piteous prayer incessantly, 15 Knowing who hears the ravens cry, and said: "Give us, O Lord, this day our daily bread!" Across the Sound the birds of passage sailed, Speaking some unknown language strange and sweet Of tropic isle remote, and passing hailed 20 The village with the cheers of all their fleet; Or quarrelling together, laughed and railed Like foreign sailors, landed in the street Of seaport town, and with outlandish noise Of oaths and gibberish frightening girls and boys. 25 Thus came the jocund Spring in Killingworth, Li fabulous days, some hundred years ago; And thrifty farmers, as they tilled the earth. Heard with alarm the cawing of the crow, That mingled with the universal mirth, 30 Cassandra-like, prognosticating woe; They shook their heads, and doomed with dreadful words To swift destruction the whole race of birds. And a town-meeting was convened straightway To set a price upon the guilty heads 35 Of these marauders, who, in lieu of pay. Levied black-mail upon the garden beds And corn-fields, and beheld without dismay The awful scarecrow, with his fluttering shreds; The skeleton that waited at their feast, 40 Whereby their sinful pleasure was increased. Then from his house, a temple painted white, With fluted columns, and a roof of red. The Squire came forth, august and splendid sight! Slowly descending, with majestic tread, Tales of a Wayside Inn 381 45 Three flights of steps, nor looking left nor right, Down the long street he walked, as one who said, " A town that boasts inhabitants like me Can have no lack of good society! " The Parson, too, appeared, a man austere, 50 The instinct of whose nature was to kill; The wrath of God he preached from year to year, And read, with fervor, Edwards on the AVill; His favorite pastime was to slay the deer In Summer on some Adirondac hill; 55 E'en now, while walking down the rural lane, He lopped the wayside lilies with his cane. From the Academy, whose belfry crowned The hill of Science with its vane of brass. Came the Preceptor, gazing idly round, 60 Now at the clouds, and now at the green grass. And all absorbed in reveries profound Of fair Almira in the upper class, Who was, as in a sonnet he had said. As pure as w^ater, and as good as bread. 65 And next the Deacon issued from his door, In his voluminous neck-cloth, white as snow; A suit of sable bombazine he wore; His form was ponderous, and his step was slow; There never was so wise a .man before; 70 He seemed the incarnate ''Well, I told you so! " And to perpetuate his great renown There was a street named after him in town. These came together in the new town-hall, With sundry farmers from the region round. 75 The Squire presided, dignified and tall. His air impressive and his reasoning sound; 111 fared it with the birds, both great and small; Hardly a friend in all that crowd they found. But enemies enough, who every one 80 Charged them with all the crimes beneath the sun. When thev had ended, from his place apart, Rose the Preceptor, to redress the wrong. 382 Xarrative Poems of Longfdloiv 4 And, trembling like a steed before the start, Look round bewildered on the expectant throng; 85 Then thought of fair Almira, and took heart To spoak out what was in him, clear and strong, Alike n^gardless of their smile or frown, And quite determined not to be laughed down. "Plato, anticipating th(! Reviewers, 90 From his Republic baninhed without pity The Poets; in this little town of yours, You put to death, by means of a Committee, The ballad-singers and the Troubadours, The street-musicians of the heavenly city, 95 The birds, who make sweet music for us all In our dark hours, as David did for Saul. "The thrush that carols at the dawn of day From the green steeples of the piny wood; The oriole in the elm; the noisy jay, 100 Jargoning like a foreigner at his food; The blue-bird balanced on some top-most spray, Flooding with melody the neighborhood; Linnet and meadow-lark, and all the throng That dwell in nests, and have the gift of song. 105 "You slay them all! and wherefore? for the gain Of a scant handful more or less of wheat, Or rye, or barley, or some other grain, Scratched up at random by industrious feet. Searching for worm or weevil after rain! 110 Or a few cherries, that are not so sweet As are the songs these uninvited guests Sing at their feast with comfortable breasts. "Do you ne'er think what wondrous beings these? Do you ne'er think who made them, and who taught 115 The dialect they speak, where melodies Alone are the interpreters of thought? Whose household words are songs in many keys. Sweeter than instrument of man e'er caught! Whose habitations in the tree-tops even 120 Are halfway houses on the road to heaven! Tales of a Wayside Inn 38.':5 "Think, every morning when the sun peeps through The dim, leaf-latticed windows of the grove, How jubilant the happy birds renew Their old, melodious madrigals of love! 125 And when you think of this, remember too 'Tis alwaj^s morning somewhere, and above The awakening continents, from shore to shore, Somewhere the birds are singing evermore. "Think of your woods and orchards without birdsl 130 Of empty nests that cling to boughs and beams As in an idiot's brain remembered words Hang empty 'mid the cobwe^js of his dreams! Will bleat of flocks or bellowing of herds Make up for the lost music, when your teams 135 Drag home the stingy harvest, and no more The feathered gleaners follow to your door? "What! would you rather see the incessant stir Of insects in the windrows of the hay, And hear the locust and the grasshopper 140 Their melancholy hurdy-gurdies play? Is this more pleasant to you than the whir Of meadow-lark, and its sweet roundelay. Or twitter of little field-fares, as you take Your nooning in the shade of bush and brake? 145 "You call them thieves and pillagers; V>ut know They are the winged wardens of your farms, WTio from the cornfields drive the insidious foe And from your harvests keep a hundred harms; Even the blackest of them all, the crow, 150 Renders good service as your man-at-arms. Crushing the beetle in his coat of mail. And crying havoc on the slug and snail. " How can I teach your children gentleness, And mercy to the weak, and reverence 155 For Life, which, in its weakness or excess, Is still a gleam of God's omnipotence, Or Death, which, seeming darkness, is no less The selfsame light, although averted hence, 384 Xarraiive Poems of LongjcUoiv AVhen by your laws, your actions, and your speech, 160 You contradict the very things I teach?" "With this he closed; and through the audience went A murmur, like the rustle of dead leaves; The farmers laughed and nodded, and some bent Their yellow heads together like their sheaves; 165 Men have no faith in fuic-spim sentiment Who put their trust in bullocks and in beeves. The birds were doomed; and, as the record shows, A bounty olTered for the heads of crows. There was another audience out of reach, 1 70 Who had no voice nor vote in making laws. But in the papers read his little speech. And crowned his modest temples with applause; They made him conscious, each one more than each. He still was victor, vanellings: — Cadie, Acadie, Arcadia, Accadia, L'Acadie, the several forms being used indiscriminately. The word is a French adaptation of an Indian name for place; the English Quoddy comes from the same Indian root. Basin of Minus. An eastern arm of the Bay of Fundy. 21. Grand-Pr^. Tlie French for Ing meadow. The present village is on the site of the old French village, hut there is nothing in the latter that suggests the former. See line 1.') of the poeni. 24. Dikes. Suggestively reminiscent of the European home of the French colonists who settled Acadia, lG33-lG;iS, under the leadership of Kizillai and Charnise. Their ancestors, dwelling in the marshes of western France, had been accustomed to protect themselves from invasions of the sea by means of artificial dykes, an:l the Acad- ians found it natural to continue the same practice in a region similarly .situated. 29. Blomidon. A peak of red sandstone jutting out as a promon- tory four hundred feet high into the entrance to Minas liasin. 30. Sea-foys. This region of the North American coast is famous for its dense fogs, occasioned by the meeting of the warm waters of the Gulf Stream with the cold currents of the north. What is the force of the figtire in this line? 33-57. The idyllic description of the Acadian village given here is based on the French account of the .settlers written by Abb^'^ Raynal. and. though highly colored, is probably not an over-statement of the real conditions. 34. Normandy. The name of a division of France lying between Flanders and Brittany and opposite to the southern coast of Eng- land. Henries. Probably Henry III and Henry IV, 1574-1610,. are meant. They were Kings of France just prior to the time of the French settlement of Acadia. 35. Thatched were the roofs. Thatched roofs were made of straw or reeds so arranged as to shed water. They were used by primitive people as well as by civilized, and are not characteristic of the former any more than of the latter. 39. Caps and kiriles. The characteristic dress of the French peasants. "Kirtle" was sometimes applied to the jacket, sometimes to the train or upper petticoat attached to it. Both garments constituted the full kirtle: either one the half kirtle. 41. Gossiping looms. Why gossiping? 390 Narrative Poems of Longfellow 49. Angelus. A bell rung in Roman Catholic countries at morning noon, and night, as a call to recite the Angelus Domini, a devotion com- memorative of the Annunciation. (See Luke i: 28-38.) 72. Hyssop. A plant used by the Jews in their purifications. Cf. Exodus xii: 22; Leviticus xiv: 4; Hebrews ix: 19. 74. Missal. A book containing the service for the celebrations of mass throughout the year. 87. Penthouse. A roof with a single slope affixed by its upper edge to the wall of a building. 93. Wains. Poetic for wagons. 96. Peter. Compare Matthew xxvi: 75. 102. Mutation. Changes of wind and season. 107. Hem of her garment. Reminiscent of Matthew ix: 20-22? 122. Plain-song. A variety of old church music not subject to strict rules of time but following the word-accent; called sometimes the Gregorian chant. 133. The French have a similar saying, "Guests going into the wedding." 137. "If the eyes of one of the young of a swallow be put out, the mother bird will bring from the sea-shore a little stone, which will inmiediately restore its sight; fortunate is the person who finds this little stone in the nest, for it is a miraculous remedy." (Quoted by Wright in his Literature and Superstitions of England in the Middle Ages from Pluquet's Contes Populaires.) 144. Saint Eulalie. Pluquet gives in his book of Norman super- stitions the proverbial saying that if the sun shines on Saint Eulalie's day (February 12), there will be plenty of apples and cider. 149. The sign of the Scorpion. The eighth sign of the zodiac, entered by the sun about October 20. Consult a geography or physiography and determine precisely what is meant by the "retreat- ing sun." 153. Jacob. Compare Genesis xxxii: 24-29. 159. Summer of All-Saints. The season of Indian Summer, called by the French Saint Martin's Summer. All-Saints Day is the first of November; Saint Martin's, the eleventh. 170. The Persian. Xerxes. Herodotus gives the story in the Seventh Book of his History of the Persian Wars. Xerxes found a beautiful plane-tree and was so charmed by it that he dressed it with mantles and jewels as one might a woman, and placed it in the care of a special guard. 205. Pewter plates. At the time of this story, and prior thereto, tableware and domestic utensils were commonly made of pewter. 209. The geographical references here give us the extremities of Notes on Evangeline 391 France, and indicate that the ancestors of the Acadiaus were not con- fined to the low region of western France. 228. Harvest moon. The full moon that falls nearest the autumnal equinox. The season is attended in some countries with unusual festivity. 238. Gaspereaux. A river flowing into the Basin of Miuas just north of Grand-Pre. 239. Haliburton, in his History of Nova Scotia, quotes in full the command as given by Colonel Winslow: "To the inha))itants of the District of Grand Pr6, Minas, River Canard, «S:c; as well ancient, as young men and lads: Whereas, his Excellency the Governor has instructed us of his late resolution, respecting the matter proposed to the inhabitants, and has ordered us to communicate the same in person, his Excellency, being desirous that each of them should be fully satisfied of his Majesty's intentions, which he has also ordered us to communicate to you, such as they have been given to him, We therefore order and strictly en- join, by these presents, all of the inhal^itants, as well of the above named District, as of all the other Districts, both old men and young men, as well as all the lads of ten years of age, to attend at the church at Grand-Pr6, on Friday, the fifth instant, at three o'clock in the after- noon, that we may impart to them what we are ordered to communi- cate to them; declaring that no excuse will be admitted on any pre- tence whatever, on pain of forfeiting goods and chattels, in default of real estate. Given at Grand-Pr6, 2nd September, 1755. and 29th year of his Majesty's Reign. John Winslow." Note the ambiguity and vagueness of the mandate. 249. Louisburg, Beau Sejour, Port Royal. Louisburg, the capital of Cape Breton, was taken by the English in 1745, restored to France by the treaty of Aix-la-Chapelle, 1748, and retaken by the English in 1757. The loss to the French was great, in that the city controlled the entrance to the Gulf and River of St. Lawrence. Beau Sejour was taken June 12, 1755 just prior to the events of this story. The name was changed to Fort Cumberland. Situated on the neck of land be- tween Acadia and the main-land, its position was one of great im- portance. Port Royal, the principal town of Acadia, founded by the French in 1604, had been conquered by the English in 1690, but had been restored to the French by treaty in 1697. It was again seized by the English in 1710 and by the Peace of Utrecht, 171.3, had been defi- nitely ceded to Great Britain with all Acadia. The name was changed to Annapolis Royal. The order of the references in this line is not chronological, but was determined, perhaps, by the demands of the meter. 392 Narrative Poems of Longfellow 261. Glebe. Poetic for soil. 275. The War. In all probability. King George's War. 1744-1748. 280. Loup-garou. The stories of the Loup-garou, or were-wolf, and the LHiche, and the miraculous properties of spiders, clover, and horseshoes, are all given by Pluquet in his Contes Pupalaircs. The LOup-garou was, according to an old superstition, a human being who hud the power lo turn himself into a wolf and yet retain human intel- ligence. Cf. Wcrc-wolf in "The Skeleton in Armor," line 38. 281. Goblin. Kobold, a kindly spirit, industrious and helpful, but unwilling to be thanked. 282. IJtichc. Pluquet conjectures that the fleet ermine fox gave rise to this story. 284. The oxen. The superstition still lingers in England and on the continent, that on Christmas eve, at midnight, the cattle fall to their knees in worship of the Saviour, as the legends say they did in the stable on the night of his birth. 285. Spider. That the ague could be cured by hanging around the neck a spider sealed in a goosc-quill, was a belief current in England. 306-325- The original of this story is one of the oldest legends of Florence. In Rossini's opera. La Gazza Ladra, [The Thieving Magpie], the same theme is found in a slightly changed form. 335. Dower. "As soon as a young man arrived to the proper age, the community built him a house, broke up the lands about it, and supplied him with all the necessaries of life for a twelve-month. There he received the partner whom he had chosen, and who brought him her portion in flocks." (Quoted by Ilaliburton from Abbo Raynal.) 344. Drnught-board. Checker-board. 348. Embrasure. An architectural term meaning the sloping or bevelling of an opening in the wall, either window or door, so as to enlarge the profile. 354. Curfew. A corruption from the French couvrc-feu, literally meaning cover-fire. The bell, rung at nine, or at sunset, as in England, warned the villagers to put out their fires (or cover them), lock their doors, and go to bed. 381. Compare Genesis xxi: 14-21. 386. What is the force of the figure in this line? 396-398. "Real misery was wholly unlcnown and benevolence an- ticipated the demands of poverty. Every misfortune was relieved as it were, before it could be felt, without ostentation on the one hand, and without meanness on the other. It was. in short, a society of brethren ; every individual of which was equally ready to give, and to receive, what he thought the common right of mankind. So perfect a harmony naturally prevented all those connexions of gallantry * Notes on Evangeline 393 which are so often fatal to the peace of families." (Quoted by Hali- burton from Abbe Raynal.) 413. The titles of popular songs in France, appropriate to festival occasions. 432-441. The address delivered by Colonel Winslow is quoted in Haliburton's History from theloriginal manuscript of Winslow's diary: "Gentlemen: I have received from his Excellency Governor Law- rence, the King's Commission, which I have in my hand; and by his orders you are convened together to manifest to you. his Majesty's final resolution to the French inhabitants of this his Province of Nova Scotia; who. for almost half a century, have had more indulgence granted them than any of his subjects in any part of his dominions; what use you have made of it you yourselves best know. The part of duty I am now upon, though necessary, is very disagreeable to my natural make and temper, as I know it must be grievous to you, who are aware of the same species; but it is not my business to animadvert but to obey such orders as I receive, and therefore, without hesitation, shall deliver you his Majesty's orders and instructions, namely — that your lands and tenements, cattle of all kinds and live stock of all sorts, are forfeited to the Crown ; with all other your effects, saving your money and household goods, and you yourselves to be removed from this Ills province. "Thus it is peremptorily his Majesty's orders, that the whole French inhabitants of these Districts be removed; and I am, tlu-ough his Majesty's goodness, directed to allow you liberty to carry ofT your money and household goods, as many as you can without discommo- ding the vessels you go in. "I shall do everything in my power that all those goods be secured to you. and that you are not molested in carry- ing them off ; also, that whole families shall go in the same vessel, and make this remove, which I am sensible must give you a great deal of trouble, as easy as his Majesty's service wiU admit; and hope that, in whatever part of the world you may fall, you may be faithful subjects. a peaceable and happy people. I also must inform you. that it is his Majesty's pleasure that you remain in security under the inspection and direction of the troops that I have the honor to command." 472. Prince of Peace. Compare Isaiah ix: 6. 476. Father, forgive them. Compare Lulie xxiii: 34. 484. Ave Maria. The first two words of a Latin prayer to the Virgin, meaning Hail Mary! Compare Luke i: 28. 486. Elijah. Compare II Kings ii: 11. 492. Emblazoned. The word means more than merely "lit up." Consult a dictionary and note the heraldic idea. 394 Narrative Poems of Longfellow 507. Like the Prophet. Moses. Read Exodus xix for the Biblical story. -^ 513. Grave of the livinn. What is meant? 521. The story told by the notary, lines 302-325. 524. Fifth day. "The preparations having been all completed, the 10th of September was fixed upon as the day of departiu'e." The church meeting having been held September 5, it was the fifth day before the actual moving began. 541. For four days the men had been confined as prisoners within the church. "The road from the chapel to the shore, just one mile in length, was crowded with women and children; who, on their knees, greeted them as they passed with their tears and their blessings; while the prisoners advanced with slow and reluctant steps, weeping, pray- ing, and singing hymns." (Haliburton) 570. "Parents were separated from children, and husbands from wives, some of whom have not to this day met again." (Quoted by Haliburton from an address to the King drawn up by the Acadians who had been sent to Pennsylvania.) 575-576. What tautology here? 585-588. "For several successive evenings the cattle assembled round the smoldering ruins, as if in anxious expectation of the return of their masters; while all night long the faithful watch dogs howled over the scene of desolation, and mourned alike the hand that had fed and the house that had sheltered them." (Haliburton.) 597. Paul. Compare Acts xxviii: 1-10. 605. Benedicite. A Latin word meaning "Blessings be upon you!" Compare benediction. 615. Titan-like. A reference to Briareus, the hundred-handed Titan, who with the other Titans conspired against Uranus to place Kronos on the celestial throne. Consult a classical mythology for the story. 619-623. "Two hundred and fifty-three houses were on fire at one time, in which a great quantity of wheat and flax were consumed." The houses were burned by order of the Governor as a protection against those who might have escaped, refusing to obey the summons. 621. Glccds. An archaic word of Anglo-Saxon origin meaning glowing coals. 644. Oblivious slumber. Sleep that brings forget fulness. 650. Day of doom. Doom is a Sa.xon word for judgment. 657. Bell or book. Without ritualistic service. The bell was usual- ly tolled to mark the passage of the soul; by book is meant the ritual. 670. Seven thousand of the inhabitants of Acadia had been dis- persed among the several Colonies. One thousand arrived in Massa- Notes on Evangeline 395 chusetts Bay; four hundred and fifteen reached Philadelphia in a most deplorable condition ; large numbers were sent to the southern colonies, whence they tried vainly to return to the land they had been compelled to relinquish. 672. Banks of Newfoundland. Dense fogs are characteristic of this region. 674. Savannas. Low level plains covered with low vegetation. No specific place is meant, though the Savannah River in Georgia may have suggested the general term. 675. Father of Waters. Literal translation of the Indian name. Mississippi. 677. Bones oi the mammoth or mastodon have been unearthed throughout the valleys of the United States. 705. Coureurs-dcs'hois. Literally, runners of the woods. They were hunters, trappers, and traders, who mingled with the Indians during colonial times. Their life is interestingly presented in Parkman's histories. 707. Voyageur. The name usually given to French-Canadians employed by the Northwest and Hudson Ray Companies to transport men and supplies from one station to another. The term is hardly appropriate in Louisiana. 713. Saint Catherine's tresses. Saint Catherine was celebrated for her vows of virginity. The French proverb, Elle restera pour coiffer Sainte Katherine {She will he left to braid Saint Catherine's tresses) has reference to one devoted to single life. 733. O Muse! An imitation of the conventional address to the Muse of Epic poetry, but here meaning only inspiration. 741. Beautiful River. Literal translation of the Indian name Ohio, preserved by La Salle, the first discoverer of the river. 750. Opelousas. The section of country near the mouth of the Mississippi. Louisiana, though ceded by the French to Spain in 1 762. was still under French influence. Attracted by the French population there, about six hundred and fifty Acadian exiles arrived in New Orleans in the Spring of 1765, and settled later along the river, giving it the name of Acadian Coast, which still adheres to a portion of the banks. 758. Wimpling. From wimple, a head-covering laid in folds; hence, rippling, like the folds of a wimple. 764. Golden Coast. In southern Louisiana below Baton Rouge. 766. Bayou of Plaquemine. There is to-day a town. Plaquemine. about one hundred miles north of New Orleans on the Mississippi. 782. Mimosa. The sensitive plant. 793. Corridors. Here used by poetic extension. 396 Narrative Poems of Longfellow 807. Atchafalaya. Lost river; an outlet or a continuation of either the Red River or the Mississippi, west of Plaquemiue. Scan the line and determine the accent. 821. Ladder of Jacob. Compare Genesis xxviii: 12. 856. Teche. A stream in southern Louisiana. 878. Bacchantes. Revellers who, in classical mythology, were wor- shipers of Bacchus, the god of the vine, whence the name. 890. Yule-tide. A mid-winter festival attended with much cere- mony among the primitive Celts of Britain. Later the custom passed into the Christmas festival of the early English, to which the word generally refers. 916. Kine. Archaic plural of cow. 952. Adaycs. An old Spanish town near Natchitoches, not existing at the present day. Also spelled Adaies. 953. Ozark Mountains. Elevations running from the northern borders of Arkansas through Missouri. 956. The Fates. More of a proverbial expression than a classical allusion; one's destiny. 961. Olympus. A mountain in northern Greece, the fabled home of the gods. 970. Ci-dcvant. A word transferred from the French meaning former. 984. Natchitoches. A division in northwest Louisiana. 997. King George. The expulsion of the Acadians occurred during the reign of George III of England. 1004. The fever. The southern low regions have much malaria, causing ague, or chills and fever. 1006. Compare note on line 285. 1009. Creoles. A name applied to native-born inhabitants of Louisiana of French or Spanish ancestry. 1033. Like a silent Carthusian. The Carthusian order of monks. and nuns, was founded by St. Bruno in 1086 in the valley of Char- treuse, France (whence the name), and was marked by a severe rigidity of rule. Among the rigid vows, that of almost perpetual silence is the most characteristic. What is the force of the comparison here? 1044. "Upharsin." The last word in the famous "Handwriting on the Wall." signifying destruction. Read the story of Belshazzar's Feast. Daniel v: 1-31. 1063. Prodigal Son. Compare Luke xv: 11-32. 1064. Foolish Virgin. Compare Matthew xxv: 1-13. 1078. Far in the West. The region here described is southern Idaho, a mountainous, desert land. Notes on Evangeline 397 1082. Oregon, Wallcway, Owyhee. The uame Oregon was formerly- applied to what is now the Columbia River, but the reference here is undoubtedly to the Snake branch of the Columljia. The Walleway and the Owyhee are in the same region, tributaries of the Columbia and the Snake. 1083. Wind-river Mountains. A part of the Rockies in Wyoming, southeast of-the Yellowstone Park, constituting the great continental divide. 1084. Sweet-water Valley; Nebraska. Through the Sweet-water Valley in Central Wyoming, flows the Sweet-water River, which be- comes the North Platte. The Platte River, formed by the North and South branches, is sometimes called the Nebraska. 1085. Fontainc-gui-bout. "The boiling spring," supposed to be a well-known spring in a valley in central Colorado. Spanish sierras. Sierra in Spanish signifies saw. The name is often applied to our western mountains, ])ecause of their craggy, jagged api^earance. The Spanish sierras are that part of the Rockies south of Colorado. 1095. Ishmael's children. Compare Genesis xvi: 12. What is the force of the figure? 1102. Anchorite monk. A recluse. What is the force of the figure here? 1114. Fata Morgana. The Italian name for a species of mirage, a phenomenon by which distant objects appear in air near at hand. 1119. Shawnee. The Shawnces were a vagrant branch of the great Algonquin stock of American Indians, roaming over southwestern United States. 1120. Camanches. A branch of the Shoshoncan stock inhabiting the region of North Texas. 1139-1149. These tales are short adaptations of Indian legends given by Schoolcraft in his Algic Researches. (See Introduction to The Song of Hiawatha, p. 105.) 1159. Subtle. Compare subtile, and distinguish between the two. 1167. Black Robe Chief. An Indian name for the Jesuit mission- aries. 1171-1206. This incident of the Jesuit Mission was probably sug- gested to the poet by Chateaubriand's A tola, a tale of the loves of two Indians. Atala and Chactas. The author makes his hero and heroine find help in the time of need at the Mission of Father Aubry, a "Black Robe Chief" who had established a mission in the forest where he taught the Indians a simple form of Christianity. 1213-1214. Compare The Song of Hiawatha, Canto xiii. lines 217- 227, and consult the note in this volume on that passage (p. 410). 1219. Compass-flower. A stout perennial plant of the aster family 398 Narrative Poems of Longfellow bearing a yellow flower, found in the prairies of Michigan and Wis- consin. The leaves are said to turn their edges due north and south. When, late in life, Longfellow saw a compass-flower in the Botanical Gardens, he altered his original description here to make it more true to nature, substituting "vigorous plant" for "delicate plant," and "in the houseless wild" instead of "on its fragile stalk." 1226. Asphodel flowers. A poetic reference to the Greek idea of "asphodel meadows haimted by the shades of heroes." Nepenthe. A potion having power to dispel pain and sorrow. 1233. Saginaw. A small stream in eastern Michigan flowing into Saginaw Bay. 1241. Moravian Missions. The Moravians are a Christian sect descended from the Bohemian Brethren, a branch of the Hussites. After the Thirty Years' War, their settlements in Moravia were de- stroyed, and many of them came to the New World. They resemble the Quakers somewhat. Their missions were called Moravian Gnadenhiitten — "Tents of Grace." 1253. William Penn, the founder of Pennsylvania, the Quaker Colony. 1256. Many of the streets of Philadelphia bear the names of trees, as for example. Chestnut, Locust, Pine, Spruce, etc. 1257. Dryads. In classical mythology, nymphs presiding over woods and trees. 1288. Sister of Mercy. This order of nuns, bound by the vows of poverty, chastity, and obedience, and devoted to acts of mercy, was founded in Dublin in 1827. The poet is guilty of anachronism here in making Evangeline a Sister of Mercy, unless, of course, he gives her the general attributes without making her one of the order. 1298. Pestilence. The yellow fever broke out in Philadelphia in 1793 and was terrible in its ravages. A vivid account of it may be found in Charles Brockden Brown's novel, Arthur Mervyn. 1 299. "Among the country people, large quantities of wild pigeons in the spring are regarded as certain indications of an unhealthy sum- mer. Whether or not this prognostication has ever been verified, I cannot tell. But it is very certain that during the last spring the number of those birds brought to market was immense. Never, perhaps, were there so many before." (From Mathew Carey's A Memoir of the Yellow Fever in Philadelphia in 1793.) 1312. Compare Mark xiv: 7 1 326. An Episcopal church in Philadelphia where Benjamin Frank- lin lies buried. 1328. Wicaco is a suburb of Philadelphia. The old church of the Swedes, founded 1698, is still standing. Notes on The Song of Hiawatha 399 1356. Angel of Death. Compare Exodus xii: 21-30. 1381-1399. Compare this passage in detail with the Prelude, lines 1-9, and note the repetitions and changes, and the effect produced by them. THE SONG OF HIAWATHA Consult the Glossary of Proper Names at the end of these notes for words not herein explained or commented upon. The text itseL usually explains the Indian names of persons and things. INTRODUCTION , Lines 1-20. The poet fancifully takes refuge behind the legendary Nawadaha for the traditional subject matter of the poem; see the Introduction to the poem on this point. 13. Land of the Ojibways. The Ojibway Indians, better known as the Chippewaj's, a tribe of the Algonquin stock, lived along the southern shore of Lake Superior between the Pictured Rocks and the Grand Sable, a region made remarkable by picturesque sandstone cliffs, water- falls, and sand-dunes. The Ojiliways extended their range westward over northern Minnesota and North Dakota. 14. Land of the Dacotahs. The region occupied by a branch of the Siouan stock, the Dacotahs, who resided in the lands drained by the upper Mississippi and westward to the Missouri, the present North and South Dakota. 41. Vale of Tawasentha. A valley in Albany County, N. Y., now called Norman's Kill. 60. Hiawatha. (Pronounced Hi-a-wa'-tha, preferably, though Longfellow is said to have used He-a-wa'-tha; either pronunciation is authorized.) The real Hiawatha was an Onondaga chief of the fif- teenth century. See Introduction to The Song of Hiawatha, pp. 113- 115. 67-115. What is the nature of the poet's appeal to the reader? Analyze the phases. Cf. the personal appeal made in the Prelude to Evangeline, 11. 16-19. I. THE PEACE-PIPE 1. Mountains of the prairie. See Glossary, page 418. 2. Red Pipe-stone Quarry. A quarry in Pipe-stone County, Minne- sota, which received its name from the legend referred to in the text. Mr. George Catlin, the American traveller and student of Indian tradi- tions and customs, is the poet's authority for the legend of the peace- pipe. In his honor, the red pipe-stone is often called catlinite. 400 Narrative Poems of Longjellow 3. Gitche Manito. The Great Spirit. Manito or Manitou was a spirit or spiritual person, or an object endowed with spiritual power, as a fetish or an amulet. The idea of "Spirit," however, was peculiar in that it demanded embodiment. Hence, Gitche Manito was the personification of a supremely great Indian chief who ruled all the nations. The Jesuit missionaries succeeded in a small degree in in- fusing into the conception of Gitche Manito the idea of God. 30. Calumet. A large tobacco-pipe with a stone bowl and a long reed stem ornamented with eagles' feathers, used by the North Amer- ican Indians at their conferences. The word is derived from the Latin calamus, reed. 43. Wyoming. See Glossary, page 421. 44. Tuscaloosa. See Glossary, page 421. 60-65. The Indian tribes here mentioned are representative both as to character and geographical home. Consult the Glossary of Proper Names for a specific account of them. 116-123. What parallels are suggested by this promise of the coming of a Prophet? Compare the poet's account of this legend with the prose extract below: "The Great Spirit at an ancient period here 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 it belonged to them all, and that the war-club and scalping-knife must not be raised on its ground. At the last whiflf of his pipe his head went into a great cloud, and the whole sur- face of the rock for several miles was melted and glazed." (From Catlin's Letters and Notes on the Manners, Customs, and Conditions of the North American Indians, volume II.) II. THE FOUR WINDS 4. Wampum. Small shell beads pierced and strung, used as cur- frency and for ornament by the North American Indians. Wampum in the Indian language signifies white, but it was of two kinds, white and dark purple. By certain designs woven into belts of wampum, records of compacts, treaties, dates, events, etc., were kept and transmitted to succeeding generations, the old men of the tribes usually being the custodians. Exchange of wampum with the white settlers meant friendly relations. 43. Hark you. Bear! The poet took this incident from Hecke- welder, who, in his account of the Indian nations describes an Indian Azotes on The Song of Hiaivalha 401 hunter addressing a bear in nearly these same words. When asked how he thought the animal could understand what was said, the hunter answered, "the bear understood me very well; did you not observe how ashamed he looked while I was upbraiding him?" Parkman says that an Indian hunter has often been known to address a wounded bear in a long harangue of apology. 127. Wabun and the Wabun-Anming. Compare the Greek legend of Perseus and Andromeda. 129. The legend of Kabibonokka and ShingPbis is taken from Schoolcraft's Indian Tales and Legends. The legend is from the Ojib- way-Algonquin, and the translation into prose ):»y Schoolcraft is no less beautiful than the poet's version. Note the beauty of Schoolcraft's verse rendering of the chant of Shingebis: "Windy god, I know yoiu- plan. You are but my fellow man. Blow you may yom- coldest breeze, Shingebiss j'ou cannot freeze, Sweep the strongest wind you can, Shingebiss is still your man, Heigh! for life — and ho! for bliss. Who so free as Shingebiss?" {Oneota, p. 11.) 242. Indian Shimmer. A period of warm, dry, calm weather in late autumn, attended by a ))lue, hazy atmosphere. The poetic sug- gestion here that Indian summer is caused by the sighs of Shawon- dasee, the South- Wind, is peculiarly appropriate. 243-244. The idea is that he brought the warmth of April ("Moon when nights are brightest") into the drear November ("dreary Moon of Snow-shoes"). The Indian year consisted of thirteen moons each characteristically named according to the season designated. Com- pare "Moon of Strawberries," "Moon of Leaves," "Moon of Falling Leaves," etc., in the Glossary of Proper Names. III. HIAWATHA'S CHILDHOOD 64. GitcheGumee. The Ojibway-Algonquin name for Lake Superior — "Big-Sea-water;" from Gitchee, great, and Guma, a generic term for bodies of water. 67. Daughter of the Moon. Note how the explanation of natural phenomena merges into the Indian legend. This is characteristic of primitive peoples. 80. The Naked Bear. Heckewelder speaks of this tradition as prev 402 Narrative Poems of Longfellow alent among the Mohicans and Delawares. "Among all the animals that had been formerly in this country, this [the naked bear] was the most ferocious ; it was much larger than the largest of the common bears and remarkably long-bodied ; all over (except a spot of hair on its back of a white color) it was naked. . . . The history of this animal used to be a subject of conversation among the Indians, especially when in the woods a-hunting. I have heard them say to their children when crying: 'Hush, the naked bear will hear you, be upon you, and devour you.' V. 82. Ewayea! Schoolcraft interestingly comments: "To my mind it is a matter of extreme interest to observe how al- most identical are the expressions of affection in all states of society, as though these primitive elements admit of no progress, but are per- fect in themselves. The E-wa-yea of the Indian mother is entirely analogous to the Lul-la-by of our language. Wa wa — wa wa — wa we yea, Nebaun — nebaun — nebaun, Nedaunis — ais, e we yea, Wa wa— wa wa — wa wa, Nedaunis— ais, e we yea. Swinging, swinging, lullaby, Sleep thou, sleep thou, sleep thou, Little daughter, lullaby. Swinging, swinging, swinging. Little daughter, lullaby." (The original meter is preserved in the literal translation.) 90. The Death-Dance of the Spirits. Aurora Borealis or Northern Lights. 94. The broad, white road in heaven. The Milky Way. 103-104. Minne-wawa! Mudway-aushka! An illustration of nat- ural onomatopoeia. Compare Wahonowin. 105-1 16. "In the hot summer evenings, the children of the Chippe- wa-Algonquins, along the shores of the upper lakes, and in the northern latitudes, frequently assemble before their parents' lodges, and amuse themselves by little chants of various kinds, with shouts and wild dancing. Attracted by such shouts of merriment and gambols, I walked out one evening to a green lawn skirting the edge of the St. Mary's river, to get hold of the meaning of some of these chants. The air and the plain were literally sparkling with the phosphorescent light of the fire-fly. By dint of attention, the following succession of words was caught: Notes on The Song of Hiawatha 403 Wau wau tay see! Wau wau tay see! E mow e shin Tshe bwau ne baun-e wee! Wa wau tay see! Wa wau tay see! Was sa koon ain je gun Was sa koon ain je gun. Compare the literal translation: Flitting-white-flre-insect! Waving white-flre-biig 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." — (Schoolcraft: Oneota, p. 61.) Note how closely Longfellow has followed his original. 159. lagoo. In Schoolcraft's Hiawatha Legends the stories of lagoo suggest the travels of Sir John IMandeville, or of the more recent Baron Munchausen. 169-172. As soon as the Indian boy was strong enough to wield a bow, he was sent alone into the forest to try his skill. 228. The Indian women were particularly skillful in the dressing of skins. IV. HIAWATHA AND MUDJEKEEWIS 70. From the geographical references here note the scope of Hia- watha's journey. 219-227. Hiawatha's mission as here indicated is thoroughly in keeping with the legendary character of his prototype, Manabozho, as preserved by Algonquin tradition. 239-244. "The northern Indians are in the habit of making frequent allusions to Manabozho and his exploits. 'There,' said a young Chip- pewa, pointing to some huge boulders of greenstone, 'are pieces of the rock broken off in Manabozho's contest with his father. This is the duck that Manabozho kicked. Under that rock Manabozho lost a beaver.' " (Schoolcraft.) 257. Minnehaha. The name given by the Sioux Indians to the "Little Falls." forty feet in height, on a stream that empties into the Mississippi between Fort Snelling and St. Anthony. The word means "Laughing Waters." The incongruity of having a hero with an Iro- quois name, a heroine with a Sioux name, and basing the story on 404 Narrative Poems of Longfellow Ojibway- Algonquin legends, has been pointed out; but what would be the poet's answer to such criticism? 261-265. The shaping and polishing of arrow-heads from these very hard stones was an art known and practiced by a very few, whose fame brought hunters and warriors from far and wide for the works of their skill. V. HIAWATHA'S FASTING 1-8. In history and literature, what other prophets have retired for prayer and fasting "for the profit of the people?" 9-15. Thatcher, in his Traits of the Indians, speaks of the curious custom known as the "initiation of boys." The boy was taken to the woods and shut up close, day and night, for some weeks, in a kind of pen so constructed as to admit the air freely. No food was permitted, only a drink made from certain herbs and roots. This perhaps had an intoxicating quality, but at all events the effect of the whole process was to render the patient stark staring mad for the time. The visions and hallucinations of this time were construed as divine revela- tions and were supposed to have a great effect on the future character of the youth. 41. These things. Note here and following the poetic suggestion of a spiritual element in Hiawatha's question. Is this consistent with Indian character? 84. Mondamin. "They esteem it so important and divine a grain that their story-tellers invented various tales, in which this idea is symbolized under the form of a special gift from the Great Spirit. The Ojibway-Algonquins, who call it Mondamin, that is, the Spirit's grain or berry, have a pretty story of this kind, in which the stalk in full tassel, is represented as descending from the sky, under the guise of a handsome youth, in answer to the prayers of a young man at his fast of virility, on coming to manhood." (Schoolcraft in Oneota.) Schoolcraft calls this the Cereal Allegory of the West, and says that the Indian is here taught that transformation can be effected only by labor and perseverance. The Indian character, however, is not in keeping with the lesson. VI. HIAWATHA'S FRIENDS The group of friends, lagoo, Chi])iabos, Kwasind, and Hiawatha, represents in a striking way history and story-telling, music and poetry, perfect physical manhood, and prophetic guidance to a higher civiliza- tion. 15. With naked hearts. What is the meaning of this expression? Notef^ on The Song of Hiawatha 405 34. What classic legend is suggested by the quality and power of Chibiabos's music? 84. His Manito. Manito, or as the Chippewas pronounce it Monedo, signifies simply a spirit. When applied to the great ruling spirits of good and evil, some adjective or qualifying particle is added to the word. Each Indian had his own individual Manito. selected usually at the period of the fast of virility. (See note on v, 9-1.').) The animals that appear propitiously to the mind during the dreams and visions incident to the occasion, are fixed on and selected as per- sonal Manitos. and are ever afterward viewed as guardians. Manito is sometimes connected with Totem (q. v.). 107. The character of Kwasind in Algonquin mythology is reminis- cent of Samson in Bible story. Compare the stories of their achieve- ments. VII. HIAWATHA'S SAILING 1. Birch-tree. Thatcher, in his Indian Traits, writes: "The tribes of the northern lakes build their canoes wholly of birch bark, wiih a little soft wood and pine gum. or boiled pitch, without a nail or bit of metal of any kind to confine the parts. The entire outside is bark Where the edges of it come together at the bottom or along the sides they are sewed very closely with a sort of vegetable thread called 'wattap.' made of roots, and the seam is plastered over with gum." 49. Larch-tree. The roots of the larch-tree u.sually furnished the "wattap" mentioned above. 139-140. Pauwating, Taquamcnaw. Sault Sainte Marie and Tah- quamenon of the modern map of North Michigan. The references fix definitely the local setting of these legends. VIII. HIAWATHA'S FISHING 1 14-193. Compare this incident with the celebrated Biblical story of which it is reminiscent. 154. Tail-in-air. The word "squirrel" is said to be derived from a word meaning "to sit in the shadow of its tail." (From Trench On Words.) 215. The Night-sun. Force of this epithet? IX. HIAWATHA AND THE PEARL FEATHER The conflict of Hiawatha and Megissogwon has its parallel in the fight of Beowulf and the Monsters in the Anglo Saxon epic. Beowulf. There are many points of resemblance in the local setting. 406 Narrative Poems of Longfellow 127. Fared, Compare the various forms and meanings of this word. 184. War-birds. A poetic compound for ravens or other birds of prey. What is suggested by the Avord? 247. The Indians often connect their achievements in this way with some animal supposed to have benign influence. This idea is associated with the ideas of Manito and Totem. X. HIAWATHA'S WOOING 90. Plaiting Mats. Beautiful mats woven from grasses and rushes and stained with bright colors from native dyes were produced by the more skilled among the Indian women. 139. Spacious was the wigwam. The wigwam consisted commonly of a rough, conical framework of poles stuck into the ground and converging above, covered with bark, matting, or tanned hides, with an aperture at the top for the exit of the smoke. A "spacious wig- wam" was large enough for a dozen Indians to sit comfortably in a rough circle around the center fire. 141-2. Gods . . . painted on its curtains. The smooth side of the skins was often painted with crude pictures representing the great spirits. C'f. "The Song of Hiawatha," xiv. Picture Writing, lines 46-58. XI. HIAWATHA'S WEDDING-FEAST 2. Yenadizze. Not a family name, but a general term for an idler, fop, or dandy. He was tolerated in every tribe for the merriment he could cause, and was a necessary part of the tribal festivities. 13. Feast. Parkman in the Introduction to his Jesuits in North America gives an interesting account of an Indian feast. 32. Pemican and buffalo marrow. Strips of venison dried, pounded Into a paste flavored with aromatic berries, seasoned with buffalo oil or marrow, and pressed into cakes, constitiited one of the most common food preparations of the North American Indian. Buffalo marrow was used very much as butter is among the civilized. 39. The hosts never ate with their guests but devoted themselves wholly to serving them. 50. Merry dances. "Dancing is both an amusement and a religious observance among the American Indians. Everyone has heard of the war dance, the medicine dance, the wabeno dance, the dance of honor (generally called the Beggar's Dance), and various others, each of which has its appropriate movements, its air, and its words. There is no Notes on The Song of Hiawatha 407 feast, no religious ceremony, among them, which is not attended with dancing and songs." (Schoolcraft's Oneota.) 60. Sports and pastimes. The sports mentioned here are charac- teristic games described by Schoolcraft and Parkman. Quoits was played by pitching two circular metal disks with a hole in the center the object being "to ring" the disks on a metal pin. The game has a parallel in the throwing of the discus by the Greek athlete. Pugasaing was the principal game of hazard, played by tlirowing thirteen count- ers from a wooden bowl, the position of the counters determining the value of the points made. A very graphic description of the game is found in this poem, xvi. Pau-Puk-Kecwis, based on Schoolcraft's accu- rate account. 118. Sand Hills of the Nagow Wudjoo. The legends fancifully attribute the origin of the great sand-dunes of Lake Superior to the wild dances of Pau-Puk-Keewis. "The basin and bed of the lake act as a vast geological mortar, in which the masses of broken and fallen stones are whirled about and ground down, till the softer ones, such as the sand-stones, are brought into the state of pure yellow sand. This sand is driven ashore by the waves, where it is shoved up in long wreaths till dried by the sun. The winds now take it up and spread it inland, or pile it immediately along the coast, where it presents itself in mountain masses. Such are the great Sand Dunes of the Grand Sables." (Schoolcraft.) These dunes are often three hundred and fifty feet in height, without a sign of vegetation. 141-176. Onawayf This beautiful rhapsody is a metrical version of a literal translation of an Indian Serenade, taken from the corre- spondence of a western traveller, and published in Littell's Living Age, April. 1850. A close comparison of the poet's version with the follow- ing literal translation will show how little is gained aside from the verse form. Indian Serenade "Awake! flower of the forest — beautiful bird of the prairie. "Awake! awake! thou with the eyes of the fawn. "When you look at me I am happy; like the flowers when they feel the dew. "The breath of thy mouth is sweet as the fragrance of the flowers in the morning; sweet as their fragrance at evening in the moon of the fading leaf. "Does not the blood of my veins spring towards thee, like the bub- bling springs to the sun — in the moon of the brightest nights? "My heart sings to thee when thou art near, like the dancing branches to the wind, in the moon of strawberries. 408 Narrative Poems of Longfellow , "When thou art not pleased, my beloved, my heart is darkened like the shining river when shadows fall from the clouds above. "Thy smiles cause my troubled heart to be Ijrightened, as tlie sun makes to look like gold the ripple which the cold wind has created. • Myself! behold me! — blood of my beating heart. "The earth smiles — the waters smile — the heavens smile, but I — I lose the way of smiling when thou art not near — Awake, awake! my beloved." The original is in a mixture of the Ottawa and Ojibway dialects. The letter containing it and the translation is dated at La Pointe, Wisconsin Territory. Lake Superior; the name of the writer remains unknown. 231. The telling of tales is oneof the chief amusements among the Lidians, particularly in the winter. Schoolcraft discovered the fol- lowing maxim: "Do not tell a story in the stunmcr; if you do the toads will visit you." XIL THE SON OF THE EVENING STAR 3. The Red Swan. The tradition of the Red Swan is one of the most interesting of the Indian legends preserved by Schoolcraft in his Algic Researches. Three brothers were one day hunting on a wager to see who would bring home the first game. They agreed to kill only the animal each was in the ha])it of killing. Ojibwa the youngest had not gone far before he met a bear. and. contrary to the agree- ment, he killed it and was Jjeginning to skin it when suddenly some- thing red began to tinge the air all around him. A strange noise was hcartl like the sound of a htunan voice. Following this, he discovered in the lake a most beautiful Red Swan. He shot arrow after arrow until his quiver was empty, but the Ijird remained heedless of the at- tempts on its life. Ojibwa then remembered that in his deceased father's medicine-sack were three magic arrows, which, under any other circumstances, it would have ]>een the greatest sacrilege to take. Securing the arrows, he ran hastily back to the lake and found the swan still there. The third arrow, aimed with great precision, passed thiough the neck of the swan. The wounded bird flew away, rising gradually and flying off toward the sinking sun. The youth followed it, and after many adventiu-es. found that the swan was the beautiful daughter of a magician: he afterwards won her for his bride by do- ing a service for her father. (Abridged from Schoolcraft.) 30-317. The poet has taken the storj- as Schoolcraft gave it, elab- orating only as his piu-pose required. N'otes on The Song of Hiawatha 409 "This is a neat aIlep:ory and has a new interest in the association it gives to the name of MichiHmackinac. or Mackinac, that island of the Lakes so picturesque, so full of romantic tradition, so marlced by freaks of nature." (Schoolcraft.) 290. On an island, green and grassy. Mackinac Island, situated in the Mackinac Straits, the channel connecting Lake Michigan with Lake Huron. 306-307. Little People, the Puk-Wudjics. Literally, "Little men who vanish." The Indians spoke of them as Mauito's spirits, of a fairy character. 340-367. This song is a metrical version of an original Ojibway song given in Schoolcraft's Oncota. The circiunstances have a his- torical basis connected with the bringing of a body of Indians under General Montcalm into the valley of the Lower St. Ijawrence, in 1759. In one of the canoes that came from Lake Superior, was a Chippewa girl called Paig-wain-e-osh-e. or the White Eagle. Left at the lake of Two Mountains wliile the warriors proceerled further, she formed an attachment for a young Algonquin belonging to the French mission of the Two Mountains. The attachment was mutual. When the time came for parting, the girl i)ourod out her soul in a song of which the following is a literal translation: ' Ah me! Wlien I think of him — when I think of him — my sweet- heart, my Algonquin. "As I emliarked to retiu-n. he put the white wampum around my neck — a pledge of truth, my sweetheart, my Algonquin. "I shall go with you. he said, to your native country — I shall go with you. my sweetheart — my Algon(iuin. "Alas! I replied — my native country is far. far away — My sweetheart. my Algonquin. "When I looked back again — where we parted, he was still looking after me. mj- sweetheart, my Algonquin. 'He was still standing on a fallen tree — that had fallen into tlie water. my sweetheart, my Algonquin. "Alas! when I think of him — when I think of him — it is when I think of him, my Algonquin." XIII. BLESSING THE CORNFIELDS 25-31. "It is well known that corn-planting and corn-gathering, at least among all the still imcolonizcd tribes, are left entirely to the females and children, and a few superannuated old men. It is not generally known, perhaps, that this labor is not compulsory, and that it is assumed by the females as a just equivalent, in their view, for the 410 Narrative Poems of Longfellow onerous and continuous labor of the other sex, in providing meats, and skins for clothing, by the chase, and in defending their villages against their enemies, and keeping intruders off their territories. A good Indian housewife deems this a part of her prerogatives, and prides herself to have a store of corn to exercise her hospitality, in the entertainment of the lodge-guests." (Schoolcraft in Oneota.) 36-65. "A singular proof of this belief, in both sexes, of the mys- terious influence of the steps of a woman on the vegetable and insect creation, is found in an ancient custom which was related to me re- specting corn-planting. It was the practice of the hunter's wife, when the field of corn had been planted, to choose the first dark or over clouded evening, to perform a secret circuit, sans habilement around the field. For this purpose she slipt out of the lodge in the evening, unobserved, to some obscure nook, where she completely disrobed. Then taking her matchecota, or principal garment, in one hand, she dragged it around the field. This was thought to ensure a prolific crop, and to prevent the assaults of insects and worms upon the grain. It was supposed they could not creep over the charmed line." (School- craft in Oneota.) 153. Prisoner-string. A cord made of the bark of the elm-tree boiled and then immersed in cold water. These strings were used in war for the ptirpose of securing prisoners temporarily until disposed of by the chief. 1 98-203. "Corn-gathering and husking is a season of decided thank- fulness and merriment. At these gatherings the chiefs and old men are mere spectators, although they are pleased spectators, the young only sharing in the sport. Who has not seen the sedate ogema in such a vicinage, smoking a dignified pipe with senatorial ease?" (Schoolcraft in Oneota.) 210-227. "If one of the young female buskers finds a red ear of corn, it is typical of a brave admirer, and is regarded as a fitting pres- ent to some young warrior. But if the ear be crooked and tapering to a point, no matter what color, the whole circle is set in a roar and Wagemin is the word shouted aloud. It is the symbol of a thief in the cornfield. It is considered as the image of an old man stooping as he enters the lot. The term wagemin is derived from the tri-literal term Waweau, that which is bent or crooked, and min, a grain or berry. The ear of corn called Wagemin is a conventional type of a little old man pilfering ears of corn in a cornfield. It is coupled with the phrase Paimosaid, literally, he who walks; the ideas conveyed by it are, he who walks at night to pilfer corn." (Schoolcraft in Oneota.) The word appears in an old Algonquin corn song: N^otes on The Song of Hiawatha 411 Wagemin! wagemin! Thief in the blade. Blight of the cornfield, Paimosaid. XIV. PICTURE-WRITING 7-8-10. Mcdas, Wabenos, Jossakeeds. Medicine-men, magicians, prophets. The three names represent the three grades of the priestly order among the Algonquins, the last being the highest. Admission to the priestly orders was accompanied by the most trying ordeals, and the secrets were guarded by most terrible oaths and the severest penalties. 23. Totem. "By this device the early missionaries observed that the natives marked their division of a tribe into clans, and the dis- tinction was thus very clearly preserved. Affinities were denoted and kept up, long after tradition had failed in its testimony. This distinction was seen to mark the arms, the lodge, and the trophies of the chief and warrior. It was likewise employed to give identity to the clan of which he was a member, on his adjedateg, or grave-post. "At the mouth of a small river on the banks of Lake Superior, there was an Indian grave fenced around with saplings and protected with much care. At its head stood a post, or tabular stick, upon which was drawn the figure of the animal which was the symbol of the clan to which the deceased chief belonged." (Schoolcraft in Oneota.) 55. The great serpent. The idea of depicting the Spirit of Evil as a serpent is in keeping with the Indian legend that he was created out of the leavings and cast away things of the Creator, helped out with the ravenous and venomous creatures of the sea and land. 123-129. "The practice of the North American tribes of drawing figures and pictures on skins, trees, and various other substances, has been noticed by travellers and writers from the earliest times, but it has not been suspected that there was a pictorial alphabet, or a series of figures by means of which acts as well as objects of action were denoted : or that the most prominent incidents of life and death could be recorded so as to be transmitted from one generation to another. Above all, it was not anticipated that there should have been found a system of symbolic notation for the songs and incantations of the In- dian medas and priests, making an appeal to the memory for the pres- ervation of language. . . Picture-writing is the only graphic mode of communicating all classes of ideas commonly entertained by them, — such as their ideas of war, of hunting, of religion, and of magic and necromancy." (Schoolcraft in Oneota.) 412 Xarrative Poems of Longfellow Schoolcraft, in his account of the Indian picture-writing, gives some excellent illustrations of the scope of the system together wiih some drawings and interpretations. XV. HIAWATHA'S LAMENTATIONS 63-86. Compare Milton's Lycidas, lines 132-151. 91. Sacred Lodge. "The doctor often consulted the spirits to learn the cause and cure of the disease by a method peculiar to that family of tribes. He shut himself in a small conical lodge, and the spirits here visited him. manifesting their presence by a violent shak- ing of the whole structure." (Parkman.) 113. Mystic Songs. "The priests and prophets have, more than any other class, cultivated their national songs and dances, and may be regarded as the skakls and poets of the tribes. They are generally the composers of the songs, and the leaders in the dance and cere- monies, and it is found that their memories are the best stored, not only with the sacred songs and cliants, l)ut also with the traditions and general lore of the tril)es." (Schoolcraft in Oneota.) 155-208. The poet has here made great use of the popular idea among the Indian tribes that the priests have control over the spirits of the dead. 192-193. Lake of Silver, Stone Canoe. These ideas correspond to the River Styx and Charon's Boat in classical mythology. Look up the latter in a classical dictionary or in Bullfinch's Age of Fable, and compare. In his Tales of a Wigwam, Schoolcraft gives a beautiful legend In- volving these ideas, entitled "The White Stone Canoe." XVI. PAU-PUK-KEEWIS 28. Ojeeg. The Fisher Weasel. According to the legend here given, the name was associated with a group of fitars in the northern hemisphere, called by the Ojibways Ojeeg Annung, or the Fisher Stars. The constellation is now made identical with tlie Plough. 65. Game of Bowl and Counters. Pugasaing. This was the principal game of hazard among the northern tribes. It was played with thirteen pieces, hustled in a kind of wooden bowl called onagon. The pieces were made of bone and Ijrass. and were shaped rudely according to the name they bore. The thirteen pieces are as follows: Inincwug — two wedge shaped men. Gilshee Kenahik — two great serpents. Pugamdgun — one war club. Keego — one fish. Ozawdhiks — four circular pieces. Sheshchwn'j — three ducks. Azotes on The Song of Hiawatha 413 The pieces were thrown from the bowl in a manner similar to dice, and the counts were made from the position of the men accordinj,' to well-defined rules governing the game. The game was very fascinating to some tribes of the Indians. They staked at it their ornaments, weapons, clothing, canoes, horses, everything in fact that they possessed ; and have been known, it is said, to set up their wives and children, and even to forfeit their own liberty. Among the persons who played the most were those who bore the name Yenadizze-wug, that is. wander- ers about the country, braggadocios, or fops. It can hardly be classed with the popular games of amusement by which skill and dexterity were acquired. It was strictly a game of hazard, and fascinated as does any gambling game. (Adapted from Schoolcraft.) 210. Silly. Used here in the archaic sense of innocent, guileless, happy, simple, etc. XVII. THE HUNTING OF PAU-PUK-KEEWIS The legend here given suggests a crude belief in transmigration, not, however, similar to the East Indian doctrine. Pau-Puk-Keewis has a parallel in the mischief-making spirit Loki. of the Norse mythology. 293. The Pictured Rocks. This remarkable formation may be de- scribed as a series of sandstone bluffs three hunrlred feet in height, running along the southern shore of Lake Superior for about five miles, rising vertically out of the water with scarcelj' any beach at the base. There are two features that make the scenery unique: fh*st, the curious manner in which the cliffs have been excavated by the action of the surf; and second, the equally curious manner in which the surface has been colored by bands of brilliant hues. The term Pictured Rocks is an old one, evidently connecting the impressions of the early western travellers with the novel distribution of colors on the surface rather than with the astonishing variety of form into which the cliffs have been worn. (Adapted from Foster and Whitney's Report on the Geology of the Lake Superior District.) 319. Thunder Mountains. Attempt has been made to connect these with the elevations on the Canadian shore of Lake Superior in the vicinity of Thunder Bay, but since the storms usually come from the west, the "distant Thunder Mountains" may mean merely the western mountains. XVIII. THE DEATH OF KWASIND 28. Wondrous strength. The reference to the seat of Kwasind's 414 Narrative Poems of Longfellow strength is reminiscent of Samson. Cf. Judges xvi: 17. The Greek hero Achilles likewise had but one vulnerable spot. 35-42. Balder, son of the Norse god Odin, could be harmed only by the mistletoe. The similarity of such legends among primitive peoples the world over is a curious fact worthy of investigation. XIX. THE GHOSTS 2. Quarry. A hunted bird or beast. The word in this sense ia now used only poetically. 140. Rights of guest and stranger. The laws of hospitality were held peculiarly sacred among the North American Indians. So sacred were they that friends and enemies were treated alike in the courtesies of the lodge and the fireside. 195-204. "Some of the northern tribes of Algonquin origin build a small fire on newly made graves for four nights after the interment. This was an ancient custom. The reason assigned is, that there is a journey of four days to the land of spirits, and if this symbolic fire be made, the disembodied soul is saved the necessity of kindling a fire at its nightly encampments." (Schoolcraft in Oneota). XX. THE FAMINE 62-68. Such a prayer is too idealized to be in keeping with Indian character. 156. In accordance with the revelation Hiawatha had in the pre- ceding section. XXI. THE WHITE MAN'S FOOT 172. Great Canoe with pinions. Compare "great canoes of thun- der." line 221. What is the meaning? 185-230. There are traditions among the North and Central Amer- ican tribes of a belief, current long before the white settlement of America, that a white race was to come to the land. The attribution of this prophecy to Hiawatha is not, therefore, unwarranted. 202. The White-man's Foot. The plantain is believed to have been introduced from Europe, and to have spread westward as the white settlers advanced. The leaf of the plant strongly suggests a foot In shape. Hence the name. Notes on The Song of Hiawatha 415 XXII. HIAWATHA'S DEPARTURE 59. Black-Robe Chief. The Indian name for a Jesuifc missionary. 128-152. Father iNIarquette and his fellow missionaries visited the Algonquins in 1673 teaching Christianity among them. The Indians received them with honor and every possible com-tesy. 203-247. The passage giving Hiawatha's departure may have been suggested by Tennyson's "Morte d'Arthvir." At any rate, there are points of remarkable similarity and each poem is none the worse for being compared with the other. Read Tennyson's "Morte d'Arthur" or. better still, his "Passing of Arthm-" in The Idylls of the King as a basis for comparison. GLOSSARY OF PROPER NAMES IN "HIAWATHA" The pronunciation and accent given are in accordance with the de- mands of the meter of the poem, and have been verified by the best authorities. Ad-ji-dau'-mo, the red squirrel. Ah-deek', the reindeer. Ah-ko-SQ'-win, the fever. Ah-meek', the King of Beavers. Ah'-mo, the bee, ("stinging fly.") Al-gon'-quin (Al-gon'-kin), the general name of a stock of Ameri- can Indians including about twenty-five tribes, inhabiting the region about the St. Lawrence. An-ne-kee'-mee, the thunder. A-puk'-wa, the bulriish. Ba-lm-wg-'-wa, the sound of thunder. Be-mah'"gvH, the grape-vine. Be'-na, the pheasant. Big-Sea- Water, the Indian name for Lake Superior. Black-feet, a tribe of North American Indians belonging to the Algonquin stock, living originally along the upper Missouri. Black-Robe chief, the Indian name for the Roman Catholic mis- sionaries. Bu-ka-da'-win, the Famine. Ca-man'-ches, (C6-man'-ches), a tribe of North American Indians belonging to the Shoshonean stock, originally inhabiting north Texas. Ghee-maun', a canoe of birch bark. Chet'-o-waik, the plover. 416 Nnrrative Poems of Longfellow €hi-bi-a'-bos, a musician; friend of Hiawatha; ruler in the Land of Spirits. Ch6e'-tg,ws, a tribe of North American Indians belonging to the Muskhogean stock, originally living between the Mobile and Mississippi Rivers. Crows, a tribe of the Siouan stock, originally inhabiting the Yellow- stone region, now living on the reservation in Montana. Da-co'-tahs, (Da-ko'-tas), a tribe of the Siouan stock of North American Indians, originally living along the upper Mississippi. Da-hin'-da, the bull-frog. Dead-Man's-Moceasin-Leather, the Indian name of a fungus growth found in the forests, probably the ordinary toad-stool as well as the parasite growth found on trees. Death Dance of the Spirits, the Indian name for the Aurora Bore- alis or Northern Lights. Del'-a-wares, a tribe of North American Indians of the Algon- quin stock, originally living in the region drained by the Delaware River. Dush-kwo-ne'-she, the dragon-fiy. E'sa, an Indian exclamation, "Shame upon you." Es-eo-na'-ba, (Es-ca-na-ba), a river in northern Michigan empty- ing into Green Bay. Evening Star, Venus. E-w?^-yea', a lullaby. Faee-in-a-Mist, nephew of lagoo. Foxes, a tribe of North American Indians of the Algonquin stock, closely connected "with the Sacs, living originally along the Sac River in Wisconsin northward as far as Lake Superior. Gee'-zis, Ghee'-zis, the great sun. Git'-che-GQ'-mee, Lake Superior, Big-Sea-Water. GIt-che Man'-i-t5, the Chief Spirit; the Master of Life. Great Bear of the Mountains, the Indian name for bugbear. Gush-ke-wau', the darkness. Hi-au-ha', an Indian exclamation, "Ho! ho!" Hi-a-wa'-tha, the Wise Man; the Teacher; son of Mudjekeewis. the West-Wind, and Wenonah, daughter of Nokomis. Hu'-rons, a tribe of North xVmerican Indians of the Iroquoian stock, living originally between Lake Ontario and Lake Huron. I-a'-goo, a great boaster and story-teller; friend of Nokomis. I-nin'-e-wiig, wedge men; the name of two counters, ("men"), used in the Indian Game of the Bowl. Notes on The Song of Hiawatha 417 Ish-koo-dah', fire; a comet. Jee'-bi, a ghost; a spirit; shade of the departed. J6s's-a-keed, a prophet. Ka'-be-yun, the West- Wind. Ka-bib-o-nok'-ka, the North- Wind. Kagh, the hedgehog. Ka'-go, a strong negative, "Do not totich it." Kah-gah'-gee, the raven; King of ravens. Kaw, a strong exclamation, "Xot so! It cannot be!" Ka-ween', an exclamation stronger than Kaw, "No indeed!" Kay-oshk', the sea-gull. Kee'-go, a fish. Kee-way'-din, the Northwest- Wind ; the Home Wind. Ken-a'-beek, a serpent; the name of two counters, ("men"), in the Indian Game of the Bowl. See Pugasaing. Ken-eu', a great war-eagle. Ken-o'-zha, the pickerel. K6-ko-ko'-ho, the owl. Kun-tas-soo', the Game of Plum-stones; played in a manner sim- ilar to Pugasaing. with the difTerence that plum-stones are used in- stead of shaped "men." Kwa'-sjnd, the Strong Man; friend of Hiawatha. Kwo-ne'-she, (Diish-kwo-ne'-she), the dragon-fly. Lake of Silver, the lake over which, according to Indian supersti- tion, pass the departed souls in their journey to the other world. Lily of the Prairie, Wenonah, daughter of Nokomis and mother of Hiawatha. Little People, pygmies; Indian fairy folk. Loon'-Heart, an appellation of praise, used of Hiawatha. Mahn-ah-be'-zee, the swan. Mahng, the loon. Mahn-go-tay'-see, loon-hearted; brave. Mahn-o-mo'-nee, the wild rice. Ma' -ma, the woodpecker. Man' -dans, a tribe of North American Indians belonging to the Siouan stock, living originally along the upper Missouri. Man'-i-to, a spirit; a guardian spirit; any spirit, whether good or evil. Mas-ken-6'-zha, the pike. Master of Life, Gitche Manito, the Indians' Chief Spirit. Me' -da, a medicine-man; a conjurer. 418 Narrative Poems of Longfellow Me-da'-min, knowledge of simples; the art of healing and conjuring. Meen-ah'-gah, the blueberry. Meg-is-s6g'-won, Pearl-Feather, a great magician, and the Manito of Wealth. Mesh-i-nau'-wa, an attendant; a pipe-bearer. Min-je-kah'-wun, Hiawatha's magic mittens. Min-ne-ha'-ha, Laughing Water, the wife of Hiawatha. — A water- fall on a little stream emptying into the Mississippi River between Fort Snelling and the Falls of St. Anthony. Min-ne-wa'-wa, the moaning sound of the wind in the pine trees. Mish'-e Mok'-wa, the Great Bear. Mish'-e Nah'-ma, the Great Sturgeon, King of Fishes. Mis-k5-deed', the Spring Beauty, {Claytonia Virginica), the earliest of our wild-flowers. Mississippi, theFather of Waters. Mit'-che Man'-I-t5, the Spirit of Evil, opposed to Gitche Manito. M5' -hawks, a tribe of North American Indians of the Iroquoian stock, originally living in eastern New York. M6n-da'-min, Indian maize, "the friend of man"; the Spirit's grain or berry- Moon of Bright Nights, April. Moon of Falling Leaves, September. Moon of Leaves, May. Moon of Snow-Shoes, November. Moon of Strawberries, June. Mountains of the Prairie, Missouri Coteau, an elevated region in North Dacotah at the source of the Blue Eartli River. Mud-je-kee-'wis, the West Wind, father of Hiawatha. Mud-way-aush'ka, the splashing sound of waves on the shore. Mush-k5-da'-sa, the grouse. Mus'-k5-day, the meadow. Na'-g5w WQd'-j5, the Sand Dunes of Lake Superior. Nah'-m£L, the sturgeon. Naked Bear, the Great Bear of the Mountains, the Indian "bug- bear." Na-wa-da'-ha, the musician, poet, minstrel; a friend of Hiawatha. Nee-ba-naw'-baigs, the spirits of the water. Ne-ne-moo'-sha, sweetheart. Ne-pah'-win, Spirit of Sleep. Noh-ma'-wusk, the spearmint. N6-ko'-mis, a grandmother; the mother of Wenonah and the grand- mother of Hiawatha. Notes on The Song of Hiawatha 419 N6'-sa, my father. Nush'-ka, a strong exclamation, "Look! look!" O-dah'-min, the strawberry. 0-jeeg', the Fisher Weasel: the Summer-Maker. O-jib'-ways, a tribe of the Algonquin stock of North American In- dians, better known as the Chippeways, living originally in the Lake Superior region. O-ka-ha'-wis, the herring. Old Man of the Mountains, the chief mountain spirit, the Manito of Mountains. 0' -ma-has, a branch of the great Siouan stock of North American Indians originally living in the Elkhorn River region. O-me'-me, the pigeon. O-na'-gon, a bowl; the bowl used in the Indian Game of the Bowl. See Pugasaing. on-a-way', an exclamation, "Awake!" O-pe'-chee. the robin. ds-se'-o. Son of the Evening Star. O-wais'-sa, the bluebird. 0- wee' -nee, wife of Osseo. O-za-wa'-beek, the name of four round pieces of copper or brass used as counters ("men"), in the Indian Game of the Bowl. See Pugasaing. Pah-puk-kee'-na, the grasshopper. Paim-o-said', a thief of cornfields; th-.^ blight of a corn-ear. Pau-guk, Death. Pau-Puk-Kee'-wis, a handsome youth; the Storm Fool who danced at Hiawatha's wedding-feast; the Mischief-Maker finally killed by Hiawatha. Pau-wa'-ting, the Indian name of Sault Sainte Marie, the river form- ing the international canal between Lake Superior and Lake Huron. Paw-nees', a brancli of the Caddoan stock of North American In- dians, living originallj' in the Arkansas valley. Peapl Feather, a great magician ;the Manito of wealth and wampum. Pe'-bo-an, Winter; the Spirit of AVinter. Pem'-I-can, (also spelled Pem'-mi-can), strips of venison dried, pounded into paste with fat and aromatic berries, and pressed into cakes ; prepared and used extensively by the North American Indians for food. Pez-he-kee', the bison. Pictured Rocks, a series of sandstone cliffs, three hundred feet in height, stretching for five miles along the shore of Lake Superior about fifty miles east of Marquette in Northern Michigan. 420 Narrative Poems of Longfellow Pish-ne-kuh' , the l)rant, a species of wild goose breeding in the Arctic regions and coming southward in the autumn. P6-ne'-mah, the land of the Hereafter. Pu-ga-saing', the name of tlie Indian Game of the Bowl. Cf. note on line 65, Pau-Puk-Keewis. Piig-ga-wau'-giin, a war club; the name of a counter, ("man"), in the Game of the Bowl. See Pugasaing. Puk-wa'-na, the smoke of the Peace-Pipe. Puk-Wud'-jies, Little People; pygmies; Indian fairy folk. Red Pipe-Stone Quapry, a qviarry in southern Minnesota famous for its yield of the red pipe-clay used by the Indians for making pipes. Sah-sah-je'-wun, rapids. Sa,h'-wa, the yellow perch. Se-bo-wTsh'-a, the brook or rivulet. Seg-wun', Spring; the Spirit of Spring. Sha-da, the pelican. Sha-bo'-min, the gooseberry. Shah-shah, long ago. Shau-go-da'-ya, a coward. Shaw-ga-shee', the craw-fish. Sh^-won-da'-see, the South- Wind. Shaw-Shaw, the swallow. Shesh'-eb-wug, a duckling; tlie name of three counters, ("men"), in the Indian Game of the Bowl. Sec Pugasaing. Shln-ge'-bis, the diver or gre1)e, a species of diving bird. Sho-sho'-nies, one of the great stocks of North American Indians living in the Great Basin. Sh5-wain'-ne-me'-shln, a strong exclamation, "Pity me!" Shuh-shuh-gah, the blue heron. Soan-ge-ta'-ha, strong-hearted; an appellation of praise used of Hiawatha. Stone Canoe, the boat which, according to Indian superstition, car- ried the departed souls across the Silver Lake to the land of the Here- after. Sub-be-ka'-she, the spider. Stig-ge'-ma, the mosquito. Tail-in-the-Aip, literal translation of the Indian name for squirrel. Tam'-ar-aek, the larch tree. Ta-qua-me'-naw, a river and bay in northeastern Michigan. Ta-wa-sen'-tha, a valley in Albany County, New York, now called Norman's Kill. Notes on The Song of Hiawatha 421 Thundc Mountains, elevations on the north sliore of Lake Superior. Totom, an ancestral sign of descent, corresponding to the coat-of- arms. Tus-ca-loo'-sa, a river and valley of western Alabama named from the Black Warrior and Ijetter known by that name. tJgh, yes; Indian grunt of satisfaction. U-gud-wash', the sunflsh. ynk-ta-hee', the God of Water. Wa-bas'-so, the rabbit; the land of the North. Wa-be'-n5, a magician; a juggler; a conjurer. Wa-be'-n5-wusk, yarrow, an herb with a pungent odor and taste used by the medicine-men in their healing and conjuring. Wa-bun, the East-Wind. Wa-bun An'-nung, the star of the East; the Morning Star. Wa-ge'-min, the thief of corn-fields; the blight of a corn-ear. Cf. Paimosaid. Wa-h5-n6'-win, a cry of lamentation; moaning. Wah-wah-tay'-see, the firefly. Wam'-pum, beads of shell, used by the American Indians as cur- rency, and worn as necklaces, bracelets, belts, scabbards, etc. ; woven into patterns that could he translated, wampum also served as a means for preserving dates, events, treaties, etc., for future reference. W^u-be-wy'-6n, a white skin wrapper. Wa'-wa, the wildgoose. Waw-beek, the black rock, dreaded hy Mudjekeewis. Waw-be-wa'-vva, the white goose. Wa-w6n-ais'-sa, the whippoorwill. Way-ha-way', an exclamation, signifying "good cheer!'' Way-muk-kwa'-na, the caterpillar. Way-was' -si-mo, the lightning. Wen'-di-goes, the giants. We-no'-nah, daughter of Nokomis and mother of Hiawatha. White-man's- Foot, (called also Englishman's Foot), the common plantain, so called by the American Indians because its introduction by the white settlers marked the advance of English civilization. The leaf of the plant suggests a foot in shape. Wy-o'-mlng, a valley in northern Pennsylvania made memorable by the massacre of 1778. Yen-a-diz'-ze, a fop; a lazy trifler; a term of reproach applied to Pau-Puk-Keewis. 422 Narrative Poems of Longfellow THE COURTSHIP OP MILES STANDISH Line 1. Old Colony days. The Pilgrims landed at Plymouth, on the Massachusetts coast, December 21, 1620, (Old style December 11). Plymouth. Plymouth, Mass. was so named first by Captain John Smith, perhaps because of a fancied resemblance in situation to Ply- mouth, England ; and this name was confirmed by the Pilgrim Fathers on account of the kindness which they had received at that port before leaving their native land. The village consists of a few principal streets and a number of by-lanes running olT into the surrounding country. Of these streets the first laid out by the Pilgrims is of course the most interesting. They judiciously decided to build upon high ground where much of the land had been cleared and planted with corn by the Indians. "In the afternoon of December 28," writes Bradford, "we went to measure out the grounds, and first we took notice how many families were there, willing all single men that had no wives to join with some family, as they sought fit, that so we might build fewer^ houses ; which was done, and we reduced them to nineteen families. We thought this proportion was large enough at the first for houses and gardens to impale them round, considering the weakness of our people." To the main street they gave the name of "Leyden," after the city in Holland where they had had refuge for so many years. "Fore- father's Rock," the rock on which they first stepped, is in the present Water Street, and is now covered by a handsome granite canopy sur- mounted by a colossal statue of Faith. "Burial Hill" is another notable spot, rising, as it does, conspicuously above all the buildings, a lofty green mound covered with dark-grey tombstones. The view from here embraces the whole field of Pilgrim adventure, from the arrival on the coast to the settlement and the after conflicts with the Indians and the elements. (Adapted from Bartlett's Pilgrim Fathers). 3. Doublet and hose. Characteristic gentlemen's dress of the six- teenth and early seventeenth centuries. The doublet was a close- fitting outer body-garment with sleeves, and sometimes a short skirt belted at the waist. The skirt was full, and the lower edge was gath- ered so as to fit the leg snugly. This gave a kind of puff effect to the part of the garment covering the hips. The hose, often of finest silk and wool, served the purpose of trousers. They fitted the leg tight, and extended from the puff to the feet. Cordovan leather. Goat skins prepared originally at Cordova in Spain. The English word, cordwain. meaning Spanish tanned goat-skin, is reminiscent of the place where the leather first came to fame. 4. Miles Standish, the Puritan Captain. One of the most prominent Notes on The Courtship of Miles Standish 423 members of the Puritan band, and one whose nerve and com-age con- tributed much toward carrying the little colony through its many perils. He was small of stature, but his constitution was of iron, and his natural fearlessness, nurtured by a military training, made him a fighter of renown. He was born in Lancashire, England, in 1574, descended from the old house of Standish, famous from Norman times. Miles Standish early chose the profession of arms, and served with the army sent by Queen Elizabeth to the assistance of the Dutch in their strug- gle against Spain. At Leyden, he fell in with the Pilgrims, and. in- duced by love of adventure as well as by sympathy with their prin- ciples, he joined the Pilgrims' emigration to America. He was a pas- senger in the Mayflower together with his daughter and his wife. Rose Standish, who died one month after the landing, December 1620. His next wife came over in the Anne in 1623; so we may imagine the refusal of Priscilla did not leave him inconsolable. Captain Standish's promptness in killing the Indian leaders at the time of the Paomet and JNIassachusett conspiracy, made his name a terror among the savages. — a fact which was probably the salvation of the settlement. He was constantly engaged in public service up to the time of his death^ October 3, 1656. (Adapted from the Genealogical Dictionary of New England.) 8. Corselet. The complete body-armor of a soldier; or. by restric- tion, merely the breastplate. Sword of Damascus. Damascus blades are swords or scimeters of finest steel, the siirface of which presents a watered effect, the result of very fine engraving, an art never discov- ered in the West. The city of Damascus in Syria was famous in the Middle Ages for its production of these steel blades. The blades often bore some mysterious legend, e. g. "Kismet." The Pilgrim Society at Plymouth and the Massachusetts Historical Society both have original Damascus swords once the property of Miles Standish. 10. Fowling-piece, musket, matchlock. A fowling-piece is the name of a small gun used in bird-hunting; the musket was a light infantry gun; matchlocks were muskets commonly in use in the sixteenth cen- tury and early in the seventeenth. The lock held a match or a piece of twisted flax to retain the fire. Allusions to this kind of fire-arm are frequent in Bradford's and Winslow's Journals, found in Young's Chronicles of the Pilgrims. 15. John Alden. "John Alden was hired for a cooper at Southamp- ton where the ship [the Mayflower] victualled; and being a hopeful young man, was much desired, but left to his own liking to go or stay when he came here [to Plj^mouth]; but he stayed and married here.'' (From Bradford's Journal.) 424 Narrative Poems of Longfellow Longfellow (Hue 20) speaks of liim as the youngest man who came in the Mayflower; he was the last survivor of those who signed the far-famed Compact. He died at Duxl)ury in 1686 at the age of eighty- seven, after a life of quiet prominence in the history of the Plymouth Plantation. 19. Not Angles but Angels. A monk named Gregory, afterwards Pope Gregory the Great, while passing through tlie slave-market at Rome, noticed three slaves of "delicate Saxon complexion" in striking contrast with the types around them. Upon inquiring who they were and whence they came, he was told that they were Angles from Britain, which country had recently been overrun by the Angles and Saxons, Germanic tribes from the continent. Gregory was strongly moved by the Jjeauty of the captives, and vowed to send them the gospel. "Not Angles, but Angels," said he, "and they ought to be the fellow heirs of heaven." St. Augustine with a band of forty missionaries, commis- sioned by Pope Gregory, carried the gospel to England, 597 A. D. 25. Flanders. Miles Standish fought for the Dutch against the Spanish "in the Flemish morasses." 28. Arcabucero. A Spanish word formerly signifying archer; but as the weapons changed, the word came to mean a soldier using any weapon. — Cf. the English arquebusicr. 32-33. Note the characteristic Puritan introduction of Biblical phrase in ordinary speech. 38. Inkhorn. Scribes usually carried ink in horns attached to their dress; hence the word. 39. My great, im^incible army. Twelve men seem a small number for an invincible army, but the Captain is serious along with his pleas- antry. The little military company did great service to the colony during the first winter in protecting it from sudden attacks by the Indians. In Indian warfare a few men with guns were sufficient to keep back many times their number. 41. Eighteen shillings; diet; pillage. Estimate the pay of these Colonial regulars, and compare with a soldier'spay of today. 42. Ccesar. Caius Julius Caesar, the celebrated Roman warrior, statesman, and writer, 100-44 B. C. The feat attributed to him in this poem — that he knew each of his soldiers by name — applied to his favorite legion, the Twelfth. Cf. lines 108 following. 46. Howitzer. A small cannon with low elevation for projecting shells at close range. Cf. Mortar. 53. The names of the Indians introduced here are taken from the early chronicles of the Pilgrim days. To determine the accent in each word, scan the line. Notes on The Courtship of Miles Standish 425 61. Rose Standiah. Rose Standish died January 29. 1621. one month after the landing. The tender frame of woman sank under the protracted privations and hardships the colonists underwent. Bradford. Standish, Allerton, and Winslow were all left widowers in the course of a few weeks. Six of the colonists died in December, eij^ht in January, seventeen in February, and thirteen in March — until of the little band scarcely half remained. Had not the winter, severe at all times, proved miusually mild, not one. in all probability, would have been left to tell the tale. (Adapted from Cartlett's Pilgrim Fathers.) 64. Field of wheat. Those who died during the first winter were buried on a bluff near the shore, and the graves were smoothed flat in order to prevent the Indians from discovering how many the colony had lost. As early as was feasible, the ground, graves and all, was sown with wheat to continue the delusion. (Adapted from Holmes's Annals of America.) 70. Bariffe's Artillery Guide. Colonel William Bariffe was a Puri- tan whose elaborate work on military discipline had great influence in the first half of the seventeenth century. Appended to the elaborate title page of a dozen lines, a sixteenth and seventeenth century literary custom, was this quotation: "Blessed be the Lord my Strength wliich teacheth my hands to warre and my fingers to fight." Psalms 144: 1. Commentaries of Ccesar. Caesar's account of the Gallic Wars he waged during the nine years of his governorship of the Gallic provinces, 5S- 49 B. C. 71. Arthur Goldinge. A voluminous translator of many classical works of which the Metamorphoses of Ovid is the best. He was a con- temporary of Sir Philip Sidney, by whom he was patronized. 75. Wars of the Hebrews. After the Jews had settled in Canaan, a series of conquests of heathen hosts was effected. Ijeginning under the leadership of Joshua. The narrative of these wars is found in the historical portion of the Old Testament. 77. Ponderous Roman. Why ponderous? 83. The Mayflower sailed from Plymouth April 5, 1621, on her retiu*n voyage, reaching England May 6. 85. The full list of Pilgrims as given in the appendix to Bradford's History of Plymouth, includes the names of the men who signed the Compact, the wives that came in the Mayflower, and their children and servants. There were in all one hundred and two passengers. The following list contains the names of the forty-one men who signed the Compact, the eighteen wives, and the three young women, unmarried. The names of the children and of the men- and maid-servants may be found in Bradford's list. 426 Narrative Poems of LofujfcUnw John Carver. William Bradford. Edward Winslow. William Brewster. Isaac AUertoii. Myles Staiidish. John Alden. Samuel Fuller. Christopher Martin. William JNIulliiis. William White. Richard Warren. John Howland. Stephen Hopkins. Edward Tilley. Jolui Tilley. Francis Cook. Thomas Rogers. Thomas Tinker. John Rigdale. Edward Fuller. John Turner. Francis Eaton. James Chilton. John Crackston. John Billington. Moses P^letcher. John Goodman. Degory Priest. Thomas Williams. Gilbert Winslow. Edward Margeson. Peter Brown. Richard Britteridge. George Soule. Richard Clark. Richard Gardiner. John Allerton. Thomas English. Edward Dotey. Edward Lister. Mrs. Catherine Carver. Miss Desire Minter. Mrs. Dorothy Bradford. Mrs. Elizabeth Wiuolow. Mrs. Mary Brewster. Mrs. Mary Allerton. Mrs. Rose Standish. Mrs. Martin. Mrs. Mullins. Miss Priscilla Mullins. Mrs. Susanna White. Mrs. Elizal)eth Hopkins. Mrs. Ann Tilley. Mrs. Elizabeth Tilley. Mrs. Tinker. Mrs. Alice Rigdale. Mrs. — Fuller. Mrs. Sarah Eaton. Mrs. Mary Chilton. Miss Mary Chilton. Mrs. Ellen Billington. .Vo^e.s on The Courtship of Miles Standish 427 f w°'. '^^^^'"'' Village. The Iberiaiis were the pre-Aryan inhabitants of Western Europe, represented today by the Basques. Plutarch in his hfe of Juhus Caesar, narrates that as Ca?sar crossing the Alps was passnig tlirough a small village of barbarians, few in number and wretchedly poor, his companions asked mockingly if there we-e any canvassmg for office there, any contention as to who should be greatest • any feuds arising from contest of great men with each other To all this Ca-sar responded: "I had rather be first man among these fellows than the second man in Rome." 104. Flanders. A county of the Low Lands, famous in the relig- ious wars against Spain, where Miles Standish fought before he joined the Pilgrims. Flanders, in the days of Julius Caesar, was a part of Craul. a general name given to nearly all of Western Europe. 105. The orator Brutus. Marcus Brutus. a distinguished son of Kome. who. for the good of Rome, joined the conspiracy against Cssar and helped to murder him in the Capitol. March 15 44 B C After the unsuccessful Battle of Philippi. two years later. Brutus died on his own sword. 108. Twelfth Legion. The Roman army was divided into legions each legion consisting of about five thousand men. The Twelfth Legion was Cagsar's favorite. 109. The incident here related is found in Cc-esar's Commentaries, Book 11. chapter 10. 133. Genesis ii: 18. "And the Lord God said it is not good that the man should be alone; I will make an helpmeet for him." 139. "Mr. Muhins. and his wife, his son. and his servant, died the first winter. Only his daughter Priscilla survived. . " (Brad ford's History of Plymouth.) 160. There is no reason to believe that the reference here is any more than a traditional belief without foundation. 188. Populous trees. Why populous? Compsire populous nests, Evangeline line 136. Hanging gardens. The reference is to the famous Hanging Gardens built by Nebuchadnezzar for his beautiful Median queen. Compare Daniel v. • ^?^T. ^^^^^^^ <^^his entire expression with the corresponding thought in the Preceptor's Speech, The Birds of Killingworth, and note the cor- responding delicacy and beauty of thought and expression. 199. Desolate shores. The shores of New England, even at the present time, are remarkably rugged and cheerless. What must have been their aspect during the winter of 1620. Read Mrs. Hemans's poem. ''The Landing of the Pilgrim Fathers." 206. Astaroth, Baal. The names of Phoenician deities. Astaroth. 428 Narrative Poems of Longfellow sometimes spelled Astarte, corresponds to the Roman Venus. (See Judges ii: 12. 13, and I. Samuel xii: 10.) 210. Mayflowers. In England, the Mayflower is the' hawthorn ; but the poet here means the Trailing Arbutus, called Mayflower by the Pilgrims, possibly in memory of the English flower. The Arbutus flowers early in the New England spring. 220. Disk. What picture is called up by the use of this word? 224. Hundredth Psalm. This is practically the music of Old Hun- dred. Ainsworth's version of the Psalm was printed (about 1000), in Holland, whither he had fled in 1590 to escape further persecution after becoming a Brownist. Compare Ainsworth's version of the hundredth Psalm given below with the authorized version, and not the differences. 1. Bow to Jehovah all the earth. 2. Serve ye Jehovah with gladness; before him come with singing mirth. 3. Know that Jehovah he God is. It's he that made us and not we. his flock and sheep of his feeding. 4. Oh, with confession enter ye his gates, "his courtyard with prais- ing. Confess to him, bless ye his name. 5. Because Jehovah he good is; his mercy ever is the same, and his faith unto all ages. 225. Luther. Martin Luther was the German leader of the Prot- estant Reformation in the early part of the sixteenth centm-y. 228. Wheel. The spinning wheel consisted of a large wheel, band, and spindle, and was driven by the hand or foot. The process of spin- ning is an interesting one. Look up an account of it in some good reference book, such as The American Mechanical Dictionary. 229. Ravenous spindle. Why ravenous? What is the figure? Its force? 245. Compare Luke ix: 62. 248. Compare Psalms cxxxvi. 269. Hedgerows of England. One of the most beautiful and pic- turesque sights in rural England is the hedgerow, used instead of the fence to mark division of the fields. Covered with vines and blossoms, the hedgerows truly make the country seem "like a garden." The description here of an English village is as beautiful as it is accurate- 320. Pedigree. "There are at this time in England two ancient famflies of the name [Standish], one of Standish HaU and the other of Duxbury Park, both in Lancashire, who trace their descent from a common ancestor, Ralph de Standish. living in 1221. There seems always to have been a military spirit in the family. Froissart. relat- ing in his Chronicles tlie memorable meeting between Richard II and Wat Tyler, says that after the rebel was struck from his horse by Wii- Notes on The Courtship of Miles Standish 429 liam Walworth, 'then a squyer of the Kynges alyted, called Jolm Standysshe. and he drewe out his sworde, and put into Wat Tyler's belye, and so he dyed.' For this act Standish was knighted. In 1415, another Sir Jolin Standish fought at the Battle of Agiucourt. From his giving the name of Duxbury to the town where he settled, near Plymouth, and calling his eldest son Alexander (a common name in the Standish family), I have no doulit that Miles Standish was a scion from this ancient and warlike stock." (Young's Chronicles of the Pilarims.) 323. Basely defrauded. In his will Miles Standish gave to his "son and heir-apparent, Alexander Standish," certain lands "given rae as right heir by lawful descent, but svureptitiously detained from me; my great-grandfather being a second younger brother from the house of Standish of Standish." 324. Family arms. The design here described is that of a white cock with red comb. Look up the article on Heraldry in the Ency- clopedia. 332. Magnanimous. From the derivation, what is the difference between "magnanimous" and "great of heart?" 343. Read Revelation xxi: 10-27, and compare with this passage in the poem. 344. John the Apostle. St. Jolm, the beloved disciple, the author of one of the four gospels, the general epistles, and the Revelation. 347. Reed. An ancient Hebrew measure of length, equivalent to six cubits, or about tliree and one-half yards. 361, The Prophet. Nathan, a Hebrew prophet in the time of King David. 362. David's transgression. See II. Samuel, xi. David having fallen in love with Bathsheba, the wife of his friend Uriah, sent Uriah to war, in the front of the battle, that he might be killed. When this had been accomplished, David married Uriah's widow, but Nathan announced to him. "It hath displeased the Lord." John Alden's position is by no means the same as David's but from Alden's point of view, what is the force of the comparison? 376. Compare Exodus xiv: 21-29. 388. Compare Revelation xix: 7. 392. Seven houses of Plymouth. Edward Winslow, in a letter to a friend in England dated December 11, 1621. writes: "You shall under- stand that in this little time that a few of us have l)een here, we have built seven dwelling-houses and foiu- for the use of the plantation." (Young's Chronicles of the Pilgrims.) 396. Ilainault, Brabant, Flanders. Counties of the Modern Nether- lands, the territory of the Belgte of Ctesar's time. 430 Narrative Poems of Longjellow 415. Wat Tyler. The leader of the rebellion against Richard II. Wat Tyler was slain by a "certain Jolui Standysshe," a squire of the King's. See note on line 320. 421. You too, Brutus! The ''Et tu Brute!" of Shakespeare's JMiiua Ccesar, Act iii. scene i, line 77. 437. Compare Matthew vi: 4. 442. Elder of Plymouth. Elder William Brewster was chosen Min- ister of the Pilgrim Church until their regular pastor, Jolin Robinson, should come to America. As Robinson died in Holland without ever seeing America, Brewster continued to conduct the services of the church, preaching twice daily, up to the time of liis death in 1644. In the Plymouth Church there were two elders, the ruling elder, who main- tained himself, exercising the functions of the modern deacon, and the teaching elder, maintained by the people, exercising the functions of teacher and preacher. In the absence of Robinson, Brewster com- bined both offices. Explain the descriptive epithet, "The hill that was nearest to heaven, covered with snow." 443. Three Kingdoms. The dissenters from the established churches of England, France, and Holland, had been cruelly persecuted until the stoutest-hearted were forced to flee as refugees. When, by happy chance, they came together at Leyden, a common refuge, common interests readily brought them to coalesce to form one chm-ch. 444. Sifted the wheat. Explain how the Pilgrims to America were doubly "sifted." The figiu-e here used appears first in William Stough- ton's election sermon of 1668: "God sifted a whole nation that he might send a choice grain over into this wilderness." 448. Bible printed in Holland- The Bible brought over in the Mayflower was the Genevan version, clung to by the Piu"itans long after the King James version had been published in 1611. Owing to opposi- tion in England, this version was printed in Holland, — once in Am- sterdam. 450. Skin of a rattlesnake. In January 1622, the Narragansett Indians assumed an insolent and threatening attitude. Canonicus. their sachem, sent a messenger with a bundle of arrows wrapped in a rattlesnake skin in token of enmity and hostile intentions. This was the most numerous and most warlike tribe in New England, numbering thirty thousand, of whom five thousand were warriors. As soon nevertheless, as the Pilgrims understood from Squanto the purport of this symbolic message, the skin of the rattlesnake was stuffed with powder and ball and returned to Canonicus with the "assurance that if he [Standish] had l)ut shipping to go in quest of him, he would not have failed to anticipate so insolent a challenge.'' The Indians were at no Notes on The Courtship of Miles Standish 431 loss to comprehend both the meaning of the answer and the spirit that prompted it, and the Pilgrims were unmolested. Nevertheless as a matter of precaution, the PUgrims surrounded the entire town with a stockade wlnle Captain Standish marshalled the whole company into four squadrons, making a regular military institution. (Abridged from Bartlett's Pilgrim Fathers.) 457. John Robinson, then in Holland, when he was Informed of the colonists' first encounter with the Indians, wrote to the settlers- Oh how happy a thing had it been, if you had converted some before you had killed any." 487 Eight of his valorous army. Four were left behind to defend the village. See line 40. "twelve men." ^J^?-/^^'dianites and Philistines. Heathen tribes warred on by the children of Israel. 507. Beautiful were his feet. Compare Isaiah lii- 7 547. Stephen Hopkins. Richard Warren. Gilbert Winslow.— name* taken from Bradford's official list. See note on line 85 Wh'alis tlffigufer"'"'" ''''■' ''"^' "^'^ corner-stone of a nationT" 600. Compare Luke ix: 62. 605 Point of the Gurnet. The name Gurnet, borrowed from an English cape, was given by the Pilgrims to a headland enclosing the northern part of Plymouth Bay. ^iobiag uie rod?®' F ^fri' ..^^%^ ^^^^^"^ '"^ Plymouth Bay. Cape of Sand. Cape Cod? Field of the Fzrst Encounter. The place on Eastham shore where the Pilgrims had their first meeting with the Indians. December 8. 1620. before they had landed at Plymouth, while the ship was still at anchor in what is now Provincetown Harbor. 611. Compare Ephesians v: 18. 626. Compare Genesis i: 2, 629. Loadstone. A natural magnet having the power of attracting other pieces of iron. (Sometimes spelled lodestone.) 665. River Euphrates. This is an important river in ancient history. Ilguring in the earliest Aryan records. Locate it on the map. What river IS associated with it? What is the region between the two rivers of hppf vf'^^"^'^'""^"'""^"""' '^""^■^«^- A region southwest IaI n^ "" ^''"^ "^^^ '^' ^^ ^^^^"^ ^^^e Euplirates has its source. Muu /'^^?'" '^'^''^'^^- Distinguish between the Pilgrims of the Midd e Ages here referred to. and the Puritan Pilgrims. What was the object of the journeys of the former to Jerusalem? What is the sign.flcance of "taking three steps in advance and one reluctantly back- ward, in the case of the medieval Pilgi-im and of John Alden'^ 725. The account of the expedition northward here introduced fs 432 Narrative Poems of Longfellow based on Wiiislow's report. — "Relation of Standish's Expedition against the Indians of Weymouth, and the breaking up of Weston's Colony at thai place," — given in full in Young's Chronicles. The expedition took place in March 1623 instead of April 1621, as the poet makes it. Mr. Weston, a friend of the Pilgrims in London, had settled a small colony at Weymouth, about twenty miles northwest of Plymouth. Owing to tactless dealing with the Indians, the Weymouth colonists suffered much at the hands of the natives. The Pilgrims, out of defer- ence to their old friend, sent Standish and his "army" to their rescue. Shortly after some of the Weymouth colonists joined the Plymouth band ; the rest went back to London. 752. Furs. Staple articles of primitive trade. 755. Goliath of Gath. Read I Samuel xvii: 4-7. Og, King of Baa- han. Deuteronomy iii: 1-11. 756. Pecksuot, Watiawamat. Determine where the accent falls by scanning the line. The names appear in the Plymouth records and, therefore, are not chosen at random. 757. Scabbards of wampum, (.'ompare note on line 4, "The Peace- Pipe," in The Song of Hiawatha. 761. To barter and chaffer for peltries. To exchange articles for furs. 765. The plague. A fiction invented by Squanto, an Indian friend of the Pilgrims. 776. The incident here is an embellished elaboration of a passage in Winslow's Relation. 787. Note the three- fold insult to Miles Standish. Men of low stature (as was Standish) were looked down upon by the braves; work was the province of inferior beings; to be called a woman was the greatest evidence of an Indian's contempt. 803-804. The battle here described was the only battle fought between the Pilgrims and the Indians for over fifty years. 806. "Watching his opportunity, when four of them, Wittuwamet, Pecksuot, another Indian, and a youth of eighteen, brother of Wittu- wamet, and about as many of his own men, were in the same room, he [Standish] gave a signal to his men; the door was instantly shut and, snatching the knife of Pecksuot from his neck, he killed him with it after a violent struggle; his party killed Wittuwamet, and the other Indian; and hung the youth. Proceeding to another place, Standish killed an Indian ; and afterward had a skirmish with a party of Indians, which he put to flight. Standish, with that generosity which char- acterizes true bravery, released the Indian women, without taking their beaver coats, or allowing the least incivility to be ofifered them." (From Abiel Holmes's Annals of America.) Notes on The Courtship of Miles Standish 433 813. "Habbamock stood by aU this time as a spectator, and med- dled not. observing how om- men demeaned themselves in this action All bemg here ended, smiling, he brake forth into these speeches to the Captam: 'Yesterday. Peclcsuot. bragging of his own strength and scature. said, though you were a great captain, yet you were but a little man; but today I see you are big enough to lay him on the ground." (From Winslow's Relation.) 818. Trophy of war. The custom of exposing such trophies was a common one in England, extending as late as the middle of the eighteenth century. Such practices as exposing the lieads of victims or even hanging disinterred bodies on public gi))ljets. instead of being considered shocking, gave the English Puritans cause for "praising the 825. Ships of the merchants. With poetic liceiLse. the poet makes another conscious anaclu-onism: the Anne and the Little James, mer- chant ships, arrived August. 1623. instead of Autumn 1621. 826. Corn. Not Indian corn, or maize. The word "corn" has a variety of meanings. In England it means eitlier wheat. l)arley rye and oats collectively, or more specifically wheat; in Scotland it gen- erally means oats; in America it means maize, or Indian corn the cereal peculiar to the western hemisphere. 828. Ma estead. Derived from two old English roots, mere meaning boundary, and stead, place. Compare homestead. Jjedstead etc The first records of the Plymouth Colony with reference to land division contain the phrase "Meersteads and Garden-plotes." 829. Glebe. Poetic for soil. What other meanings has olehef "The Virginia Company ordered a hundred acres of lan^^ in each of the boroughs to be laid off for a glebe." (From Holmes's Annals of America.) 843. Window-panes. Window glass was considered a luxury in England even in Queen Elizal)eth's time. In a letter to prospective emigrants in England, dated November. 1621. Edward Winslow writes- "Bring paper and linseed oil for your windows." 846. To this day. The present hoase in Duxburv occupied by de- scendants of John Alden. stands on the original site, and there are traces of the original foundation. 858. Compare Proverbs xxxi: 10-28. 867. What is the classical allusion here? 872. Bertha the Beautiful Spinner. Bertha, the wife of Rudolph II of Burgundy, of which Helvetia was a part. After the death of Ru- dolph. 937 A. D.. the good queen governed the kingdom during the absence of their son Conrad, who passed his minority at the court of Otto I, Emperor of Germany. 434 Narrative Poems of Longfellow "Who has not heard of the humble gracious queen, who, mounteci on her palfrey, a spindle in her hand, went from castle to castlt from monastery to monastery, from farm-yard to farm-yard, doing everywhere deeds of piety and charity? One day the queen of Payerne — for that was her name in the traditions of Burgundy — met in the fields near Orbe a young peasant woman who was spinning while she watched her flock, Bertha, well-pleased, gave a valuable present to the girl. On the morrow, the ladies of her train all appeared before her, each with a distafT in her hand. But the queen smiled at sight of them. 'Ladies,' she said, 'the young peasant, like Jacob, came first« and she has carried away my blessing.' The rule of Queen Bertha and her husband, Rudolph II was distinguished by the laying of foundations for numerous pious and useful institutions, and the build- ing of churches, monasteries, bridges, roads, castles, 'and hostelries." (From Alexander Dagnet's History of the Swiss Confederation.) 877. Southampton. John Alden was added to the crew when the Mayflower stopped at Southampton for supplies. See note on line 15. 917. Compare Mark x: 9. 926. The gorgeous imagery of this passage is equalled only by the description that inspired it, — Exodus xxviii: 31-39. In what consists the appropriateness of the comparison? Analyze the figure in detail. 936. Ruth and Boaz. Read Ruth i. and ii. in the Old Testament. 939. Laudable custom of Holland. "May 12 was the first marriage in this place, which, according to the laudal)le custome of the Low- Countries, in which they had lived, was thought most requisite to be performed by the magistrate, as l)eing a civill thing upon which many questions about inheritance doe depende, with other things most proper to their cognizans, and most consonante to the Scripturs, Ruth 4. and no whcr to be found in the gospell to be layed on the ministers as a part of their office." (From Bradford's History of Plymouth.) The marriage referred to by Bradford was that of Edward Winslow to Mrs. Susanna White, May 12. 1021; their spouses had died in the preceding ^Slarch and February, respectively. It is likely that the mar- riage of John Alden and Priscilla was the second. 971. Adage. What is the dramatic force of this adage in the plot of this story? What does the second adage mean? 1013. Valley of Eschol. Compare Numbers xiii: 23-24. 1015. Rebecca and Isaac. Read the story of Isaac and Rebecca in Genesis xxiv. •^c» TALES OF A WAYSIDE INN PART FIRST PRELUDE THE WAYSIDE INN Line 1. Sudbury town. A little town in Middlesex County, Massa- chusetts, east of Cambridge, now easily reached by rail. Cf. line 21. Head the introduction for notes on the local setting. 9. Old Colonial day. The inscription on the first tavern sign read 1686, indicating the probable date of its erection. 22. Gleeds. Glowing coals. Compare Evangeline line 621. 32. Red Horse. The custom of pictures instead of words for signs goes back to the Middle Ages. Chaucer's "Tabard, faste by the Belle," Ls a famous illustration in English literature. Compare the inn in Irving's Rip Van Winkle. 53. Princess Mary. The daughter of James II, King of England, and wife of William. Prince of Orange. William and Mary became the joint rulers of England by the Revolution of 1688, which deposed James II. 62. Emblazoned. A heraldic word meaning adorned with splendid colors like the old armorial designs. Compare Evangeline, line 492. 63-66. These lines appeared, scratched on the pane of glass: What do you think f Here is a good drink. Perhaps you may not know it: If not in haste. Do stop and taste! You m,erry folk will show it. 65. Major Molineaux. The reference is to Hawthorne's tale My Kinsman, Major Molineux. Hawthorne wrote to Longfellow expressing his gratification at "finding his name shining in his verse." 68. The rapt musician. The poet's friend, Ole Bull, (1810-1880), Is the confessed model of this character. 94. The Landlord. "Some two hundred years ago, an English family, by the name of Howe, built there [m Sudbury] a country house, which has remained in the family down to the present time, the last of the race dying but two years ago. Losing their fortune they became innkeepers; and for a century the Red Horse Inn has flourished, going down from father to son. The place is just as I described it, though 435 436 Narrative Poems of Longfellow no longer an inn. All this will account for the landlord's coat-of-arms, and his being a justice of the peace, and his being known ar 'the Squire' — things that must sound strange in English ears." (From a letter of the poet's to an English correspondent WTitten in 1863.; 102-109. Terms in heraldry descriptive of shields and the designs on them. Gules. Red, or, where color was impossible, fine vertical lines of black that stood for red, alternating with the silver chevron. Chevron argent. Silver bars issuing obliquely from the tAvo edges of the shield and joining in the center. Crest. A device supported by a wreath or coronet displayed above the shield. The description of the crest here is that of a helmet surmounted by a winged dragon ( Wyvern), the whole appearing in a vertical bar through the middle of the shield, (part-per-pale.) 114. Concord. Near Cambridge in Middlesex County; the scene of the second battle of the American Revolution, April 19, 1775, Lexing- ton being the first. 116. A Student. The prototype of this character was Henry Ware Wales, a Harvard scholar who died early but left a memory of promise. Chaucer's "Clerk of Oxenford" is brought to mind by Longfellow's character sketch here. 139. Chronicles of Charlemagne. One of the four cycles of French Romances dealing with the deeds of Charlemagne, Alexander the Great, the Trojan heroes, and King Arthur and his Knights of the Round Table. These romances gave inspiration to the English writers of the period after the Norman Conquest. 140. Merlin. Prince of enchanters, maker of the famous round table around which sat Arthur and his knights. Mort d'Arthure. The name of Malory's famous work of the fifteenth century which, in recent times has furnished the inspiration for Tennyson's Idylls of the King and numerous other poems. 142. Characters in Boccaccio's Philopoco, one of the stories in the "Decameron;" see note on line 170. Chaucer gives a version of the same story in his Franklin's Tale. 143. "Ferumbras" is the name of an obscure Middle English romance of the Norman period. The character also appears in the Chronicles of Charlemagne as Fierabras. "Eglamour" is the name of a romance of the same period as "Ferumbras." 145. The names of knights figuring in Malory's collection of ro- mances, and in the romances preceding Malory. 146. A young Sicilian. The prototype of this character was Luigi Monti, who, after his exile from Sicily, took up his residence in America, becoming one of Longfellow's intimate friends. 151. Palermo. The siege referred to occurred in the revolution of Xotes on Tales of a Viayside Inn 437 1848. The city, on the northern coast of Sicily, was reduced by the Boui'bons in 1849. 153. King Bomba. Tlie nickname of Ferdinand II of Naples, given because of his riithless bombardment of Messina. 166. Immortal Four. Dante (1265-1321), Petrarch (1304-1374), Tasso (1544-1595), and Ariosto (1474-1533). 1 70. Decameron. The name of a collection of a hundred tales writ- ten or adapted by the Italian poet, Boccaccio. The setting is somewhat similar to Chaucer's and Longfellow's. A company of young men and women escaping from the plague, which is raging in Florence, gather at a country house in Fiesole, a mountain town near Florence^ and the hundred tales are supposed to be related by them during the ten days of their stay. The collection has furnished many poets since Boccaccio's time with material and inspiration. 180. Bucolic songs. Pastoral poems. The word, ftucrtZic, of ancient Greek origin, meant cowherd. Meli. A Sicilian poet. (1740-1815.) 184. Theocritus. A Greek poet of the Alexandrian age, famous for his Sicilian idylls. He WTote in the third century B. C. at Alexandria. 185. A Spanish Jew. Israel Edrehi, a Boston dealer in Oriental goods, was the original of this character. Alicant. A province in southeastern Spain. 188. Levant. A word now applied to the whole eastern world, but originally applied to the shores of the eastern Mediterranean, "the land of the simrise." 199-200. The Moluccas and Celebes are islands in the Malay Archi- pelago, the former being known as "The Spice Islands." 202. Pierre Aiphonse. A distinguished Spanish medical and theo- logical authority of the twelfth century, versed in Jewish lore. 204. The Parables of Sandabar. A collection of Hebrew tales of the Middle Ages. 205. The Fables of Pilpay. Pilpay (or Bidpay) was the supposed author of a collection of famous tales of ancient Sanscrit origin now reappearing in most languages of the west. The fables of LaFontaine are some of them borrowings from this source. 208. Talmud and Targum. The Talmud is the body of Jewish civil and canonical law not comprised in the Pentateuch. The Targum consists of paraphrases of various parts of the Old Testament in Ara- niaic or Chaldee. 209. Kabala. The mystic theosophy or philosophy of the Hebrews, originating about the second century A. D. Compare the word cabal and note its derivation and meaning. 213. . Sackbut. A primitive musical instrument, mentioned in Daniel iii: 10. 438 Narrative Poems of Longfellow 215. A Theologian. Daniel Tread veil, Professor of Physics in Harvard, is the original of this character ; he had a considerable interest in theology. 219. Golden Rule. Compare Matthew vii: 12. 226. Universal Church. Compare the meaning of Catholic Church. 229. A Poet. Thomas William Parsons, an American poet best known tlu-ough liis translation of parts of Dante's Divine Comedy, is the person the poet had in mind in this sketch. 240. Laurels of Miltiades. The fame of Miltiades, who won the battle of Marathon, was the source of great annoyance to the ambitious ^id jealous Themistocles. Plutarch says, "the trophies of Miltiades robbed Themistocles of sleep." 245. The Musician. The Saga of King Olaf, the first of the tales written, suggested bringing into the group his friend Ole Bull, a Nor- wegian violinist. 253-254. A celebrated picture of the Italian painter Raffaelle Sanzio d' Urbinoj (1483-1520). Raphael means angel. 259. Rtromkarl. The Norwegian genius of the river. 269. Elivagar's river. In Norse mythology the icy and poisonous streams that flow out of Niflheim, the world of fog and mist. 272. Cremona, Italy, was the home of the most famous violin- makers of the world, Andrea Amati, his son Antonio, and liis pupil 1 Antonius Stradivarius. ] 276. Tyrolean. Tyrol is an Alpine province now belonging to < Austria. { 287. Harp of Gold. Look up the story of Orpheus in a classical " dictionary and compare with the references in this passage. '. THE LANDLORD'S TALE I PAUL REVERE'S RIDE This poem first appeared in the Atlantic Monthly several years before the poet conceived the idea of a series of tales. The circumstances ,; under which it was written are best told by the entries in his diary: ^ "April 5, 1860. Go with Sumner to Mr. H , of the North End, , who acts as guide to the 'Little Britain' of Boston. We go to Copp's "; Hill burial-ground and see the tomb of Cotton Mather, his father and , his son; then to the Old North Church, which looks like a parish church \ in London. We climb the tower to the chime of bells, now the home i of innumerable pigeons. From this tower were hung the lanterns as 1 a signal that the British troops had left Boston for Concord." | "April 19. I wrote a few lines in Paul Revere's Ride, this being the | day of that achievement." i Xotes on Tales of a Wayside Inn 439 The popular form of the story was current shortly after the Revolu- tion, but there are documentary sources of the story in a letter of Paul Revere to Dr. Jeremy Belknap, now printed in the Proceedings of the Massachusetts Historical Society. In Frothingham's History of the Siege of Boston the story is given according to a memorandum of Richard Devens, the friend and associate of Paul Revere. Long- fellow's version differs slightly from the facts of liistory. The publication of Longfellow's poem was the occasion of much discussion as to which church was the "Old North Church" — North Meeting House, in North Square, destroyed during the siege of Boston, or Christ Church, which still stands and is popularly called "North Church." Boston historians have been divided in their opinion. A tablet bearing the following inscription was placed in front of Christ Cliurch by authority of the City of Boston, Oct()l)er 17, 1878: 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 Lexington and Concord. Other famous poems in American literature dealing with the historic date, April 19, 1775, are Emerson's* Concord Hymn and Lowell's Ode on the H undredth Anniversary of the Fight at Concord Bridge. 20-23. Compare with this passage the stanza from Coleridge's Ancient Mariner: "And straight the sun was flecked with bars, (Heaven's Mother send us gra(;e.) As if througli a dungeon grate he peered With broad and burning face." 72. Is it likely that the rider would distinguish the second light as it is told here? 83. The Mystic River flows between Charlestown and Chelsea. INTERLUDE 10-11. In the romances of chivalry it 'was the custom to name and personify the swords of heroes. La Joyeuse was the name of Charlemagne's sword; Colada was the sword of the Cid; Durindale belonged to Orlando, nephew of Charlemagne; Excalibur was the fa- mous sword of King Arthur; Aroundight belonged to Lancelot. 23. Escutcheon. Heraldic shield. 38. Ariosto. One of the "Immortal Four of Italy," 1474-1533. 49. Palmieri's garden. The scene of the story-telling of the De- cameron. 50. Fiametta. Maria, daughter of the King of Naples, was named Fiametta by Boccaccio. 440 Narrative Poems oj Longfellow THE STUDENT'S TALE THE FALCON OF SER FEDERIGO This story, as indicated in the Interlude, is from Boccaccio's De- cameron. It is much older, however, than Boccaccio, having been found in a collection of Sanskrit fables of very ancient origin. Versions of the story are common in western languages, some of them being these: a brief tale in the Gesta Romanorum; LaFontaine's Le Faucon inliis C antes ct Nouvelles; Tennyson's drama, The Falcon; and others. Line 8. The river Arno flows through Florence. 24. Falcon. A bird of the hawk family widely used for hunting in the Middle Ages. 84. Ilex. The holm-oak of central Europe. 86. Sylvan deities. Statues? 88. Val d' Arno. The valley of the Arno. 130. Pursuivant. A term in heraldry to designate a herald's at- tendant, or, by derivation, any follower or attendant. 151. Auroral. From Aurora, goddess of the morn. 193. Signor. The Anglicized form of the Italian signorc, used in respectful address to a gentleman. 210. licrgamut. A kind of pear, common in Europe. 221. Fanfares. Flourishes of trumpets. INTERLUDE Lines 8-19. The criticism here is just, but it would be impossible to estimate the influence of the Decameron in its inspiration to writers from Chaucer down. 26-29. Shakespeare's plots were commonly taken from such sources. Moor of Venice, — Othello. Jew,— Shylock, in The Merchant of Venice. 39. Talmud. The Talmud included not only the law, but also legends and tales of appropriate nature. THE SPANISH JEW'S TALE THE LEGEND OF RABBI BEN LEVI Longfellow, in all probability, received this story from his friend Emmanuel Vitalis Scherb. but the sources of the story may be found in the books Col Bo, Ben Sir a, and Ketuboth. Line 1. Rabbi. Teacher in contradistinction to priest, in Hebrew religious custom. The word now applies to a person holding a pastoral relation to a Hebrew congregation. Notes on Tales of a Wayside Inn 441 .3. Compare Exodus xxxiii: 20. 25. Celestial Town. Compare Bunyan's expression, Celestial City. 38. Son of Levi. The Levites were set apart for the priesthood in the earliest days, but after the centralization at Jerusalem, they were subordinate to the priests, according to the Law. INTERLUDE 21. Abate. Italian for abbot, but meaning an ecclesiastic of ow rank. THE SICILIAN'S TALE KING ROBERT OF SICILY The story of this poem is old and well-known, appearing in many forms and languages. The Gcsta Romanorum gives it as the story of Jovinian, a Cliristian Emperor of Rome in the fourth century. It appears in some legends of southern India. A middle English metrical romance, Robert of. Cysille, is practically the same in theme and devel- opment. The story dates back in some form to the history of Solo- mon. Longfellow probal)ly based his version of the story on Leigh Hunt's poem in A Jar of Honey from Mt. Ilybla. The story, deserv- edly popular, has been retold since Longfellow wrote his poem, one of the best versions being in William Morris's The Earthly Paradise. The poem is strikingly picturesqvxe and dramatic. The moral is neither added nor deduced but inheres as an essential element. The close of the poem, with its dignity and simplicity, possesses rare artistic beauty. 2. Allemaine. The Allemanni were a German tribe living on the Rhine in the early Middle Ages. The modern French word for Ger- many is L' A llemagne. 5. St. John's eve. St. John's day is December 27. 6. The Magnificat. The hymn of the Virgin Mary, taken from Luke i: 46-55. named from the opening Latin word: Magnificat anima mea Dominum, etc. 12. Clerk. In the Middle Ages, anyone who could read or write was a clerk, so called because learning was generally confined to the clergy. Compare cleric, clergy. 56*. Seneschal. A steward in the house of a medieval prince. Page. A youth in training for knighthood ; a young attendant in the house of a medieval prince or nobleman. 63. Dais. (Two syllables) A platform with seat and canopy in royal and baronial halls. 82. Jester. A court fool, usually dressed in motley, who made sport for the king and court. 442 Narrative Poems of Longfellow 86. Henchmen. Subordinate attendants or servants. The literal meaning is probably "horse-men." 98. Cap and bells. The fool's insignia. 106. Saturnian reign. Saturn was the ancient Italic god of seed- time and harvest, the husljand of Ops, (plenty). He is said to have civilized Italy by teaching the inhabitants agriculture. His reign was therefore called the golden age. 110. Enceladus. In classical mythology the giant placed by Jupiter under Mt. Etna. Volcanic disturbances and earthquakes were attributed to his uneasy movements. 150. St. Peter's square. The open square in front of the great cathedral at Rome. 169. II ul]/ Week. The week of oiu- Lord's Passion, ending with Easter. 186. Salerno. A seaport of Italy in the province, of Campania, on the southeast coast. 187. Palermo. A city on the northern coast of Sicily. 189. Angelas. See note on Evangeline, line 49. INTERLUDE 2. Saga. See note on The Skeleton in .\rmur, line 20. 5. Norroway. An old form for Norway. 9. Saga-man or Scald. Scc note on The Skeleton in Armor, line 19. 10. Ilcimskringla. An Icelandic chronicle written in the thir- teenth century by Snorro Sturleson. See introductory note on the Saga of King Olaf. THE MUSICIAN'S TALE THE SAGA OF KING OLAF The series of lyrics constituting the Saga of King Olaf was written in the fall of 1860, a year or more before the poet thought of writ- ing a series of connected tales. The opening lyric. The Challenge of Thnr, had ])een written at least ten years before the completed Saga, and was intended by the poet as a prologue to the second part of Christus. The idea of using the picturesque Norse material for a poem had been in his mind ever since his second visit to Europe, when he spent a short time in Sweden and studied Scandinavian literature. Several entries at various times in his Journal indicate how the matter grew from its inception. "September 17. 1839. — First, I shall publish a collection of poems; then and The Saga of II akon J arl; a, Y>oem. "February 25. 1859. — The thought struck me this morning that a Notes on Tales of a Wayside Inn 443 very good poem might be written on the Saga of King Olaf. who con- verted the North to Christianity. Read the old Saga in the Heims- krintjla. Laing's translation. The Challenge of Thor will serve as a prelude." The next year he began work in earnest on the theme, and the whole poem of twenty-two lyrics was completed in less than a mouth. The work upon which Longfellow based his Saga is The Heims- kringla: or Chronicles of the Kings of Norway by Snorro Stiu-leson, d. 12.38; it passed through the Danish into the Latin during the sixteenth and seventeenth centuries, and was translated into English in 1844 by Samuel Laing. The word "Ileimskringla" is the first word of the Icelandic manuscript, and means "the world's circle." In the last part of the first volume (Laing's translation) occiu-s King Olaf Trygg- vcsson's Saga, the defuiite part that furnished Longfellow with the incidents for his Saga. The period embraced by the Ileimskringla is from the earliest mythic period to the year 1 1 77. The most interesting part of this early legendary history deals with the latter years of the tenth century and the earlier years of the eleventh, diu-ing the reigns of Hakon Jarl, ( 977-995 j, Olaf Tryggvesson. (905-1000). and their immediate successors. The period was made noteworthy by Olafs zeal for the establishment of Christianity in the North and the perse- cution of the old paganism. This constitutes the theme of Longfellow's poem. The viking spirit is characteristic of the poem, and the Cliris- tiiaity displayed is of a rather wild and barbarous type. Line 1. Thor was the Scandinavian god of war, thunder, and agri- culture, son of Odin 'the Woden of German mythology). Thor was likewise known in German mythology. The name is preserved in Thursday, i.e. Thor's-day. 10. Miolner. The name of Thor's hammer, the Crusher. Compare note on Excalibur, first Interlude, line 11. 19. The light. Aurora Borealis. 36. Thor's day. Not Thursday, but the Age of Force. 38. Galilean. Christ. Note the striking bringing together of Thor, Jove, and Christ. 48. Drontheim. The modern Trondhjem on the western coast of Norway. The word signifies "Thronder's home." 55. His father. Trjggve, slain by Gunhild. 66. Hakon. Friend of Astnd's father, to whom the deposed queen fled with her infant children. 70. Vikings. See note on The Skeleton in Armor, line 17. 74. Esthonia. A province of western Russia south of the Gulf of Finland. 444 Narrative Poems oj Longfellow 79. Allogia. Queen of Russia. 83. Valdemar. Vladimir, Grand Prince of Russia d. 1015. 86. Hebrides. Islands to the northwest of Scotland. 87. ScilUf s rocky shore. Islands to the west of Cornwall, England. 1 06. Smalsor Horn. A promontory southwest of Trondhjem, called Horn61en. 131. Jarl Hakon. Jarl is the equivalent of earl, which is derived from it. and meant in those days a petty or local king. Olaf s influence in Norway began with his deposition of Hakon. Hakon's friends, however, formed the nucleus of an opposition that ended in Olaf's death. 1 42. Orkadale. On the river Orka, a tributary of Trondhjem Fiord. 169. Nidarholm. An island in the river Nid, opposite Trondhjem. 175. Sif/rid. Queen of Sweden in the latter part of the tenth century. 190. An old story in Norse mythology of one of the Valkyries punished by Odin. 193. Ring of gold. The gift of Olaf wiiicli he had taken from the heathen temple at Lad6 (near Trondhjem) at the time he destroyed it in the interests of Christianity. 232. Angvalds-ncss. A cape on the southwestern coast of Norway. 237. Skerry. Scandinavian for "isle of rocks.'' The Skerry of Shrieks is just off' the Norway coast a little to the northv/est of the southern peninsula. 274. Eyrind Kallda. One of the sorcerers (warlocks) whom Olaf summoned in order to destroy them. This one escaped up the chimney with the smoke. 288. Wilch of Endor. Compare I Samuel xxviii: 7-25. 329. The refrain at the end of the stanzas suggests the theme of the poem. It is an imitation of the old ballads. 361. Havamal. Odin's chief song. 388. Wraith. A phantom of a living person, ominous of his death. 393. Hus-Ting. The English word, husting, means assembly. So here. Compare Storthing, great -meeting, the name now applied to the Norwegian Parliament. 397. A noted peasant landlord who opposed Christianity. 405. Hodden-gray. Rough, coarsc, homespun material. Compare Burns's lines: 'What tho' on hamely fare we dine, Wear hodden-gray, an' a' that." 416. Hymer. A giant whose very glance split the rocks. 434. Men of prominence among the peasants. Notes on Tales of a Waysulc Inn 445 460. Gudrun. Daughter of Iron-Beard, wedded by Olaf as atone- ment for her father's death. 474. Cairn. A mound or heap of stones erected as a sepulchral monument. 508. Thangbrand. According to the narrative in the 11 eimskrinala a Saxon priest of good scholarship but of wicked, ungoverna))le, hal)its. Olaf refused to have iiim in his house, and, to get rid of him, sent him to Iceland in the interest of Christianity. 510. Chrysostom. One of the Christian Fathers of the fourth cen- tury, of the Greek church at Constantinople, famed for his oratory. 584. On the Evangelists. On the books of the Bible, called the Gos- pels. 603. Godoe Isles. They lie off the Norwegian coast of the Skerry of Shrieks. 623. Salten Fiord. The arm of the sea projecting inland opposite Godoe Islands to the south. 667. Apocalypse. The revelation to John on the Island of Patmos. Compare Revelation I. and following. 669. Isle of Gelling. South of Godoe Islands. 717. Yule-tide. The Yule festival was held generally by the primi- tive peoples of the north in the mid-winter season. 720. Berserks. See note on The Skeleton in Armor, line 53. 746. An epithet applied to Olaf's sword. Quern means millstone. 749. Hakon's strong guard. 785. Host. The sacramental wafer used in celebrating the Lord's Supper. 789- This poetic conceit of the cross formed of the sword-hilt has been appropriately applied to Charlemagne and Alfred the Great. 792. Was-hael. See note on The Skeleton in Armor, line 49. 799. The viking ships were commonly decorated with a figurehead of some such design; hence the name. 864. How long would this be? The remains of the Viking Ship found at Gokstad show a typical boat of about seventy-nine feet in length. 886. Ulf. Scandinavian for wolf. 939. Gorm was the first king of united Denmark. Harold Blue- Tooth was his son. 944. Sweiji Fork-Beard, son of Harold Blue-Tooth, was the father of Canute the Great. Both are connected with the Danish conquest of England. 950. Burislaf. The heathen king of the Vends, living south of the Baltic. 446 Narrative PoemS of Lonnfellow 959. Weald and wold alike mean forest; wold is probably derived from the older weald. 988. Drottning. A Norwegian title equivalent to queen. 1003. Angelica. An aromatic plant. 1023. Gormson. Son of Gorni. Adding the termination "son" is a common Norwegian mode of word-formation. 1084. Isle of Svald. Probably an island near the island of Rugen. 1094-1097. Compare line 222. 1 122. Erie. Son of Hakon and enemy of Olaf. 1 125. The most northern portion of the Scandinavian peninsula. 1130. Earl Sigvald. A relative of Burislaf, pretending friendship to Olaf but in reality acting as a spy. 1145. Stct-haven. A bay on which is situated the modern city of Stettin in Prussia. 1197. Brume. Fog, mist. 1200, Regnarock. In Norse mythology, the twilight of the gods, the end of the universe; hence, "day of doom." Compare the German expression Goticrdammerung. 1250. Poetic for clashing of the figiu'e heads. 1267-1268. Verses composed on the death of Hakon, written by Skaldaspiller. were found in the Ileimskringla. 1302. Kamper. Norwegian for fight. 1310-1311. Compare Revelation xii: 7 and Isaiah xiv: 12. Satan was identified with Lucifer by the church fathers, under the imi)res- sion that the passage in Isaiah referred to him rather than to the king of Babylon. 1350. The passing of King Olaf thus gives hope of the triumph of his cause in spite of the present failure. 1378. Astrid the Abbess. The making of Olaf's mother an a)j])ess gives the idea of the victory of Olaf's cause. This concluding poem of the Saga is not based on the Heimskringla, but is a creation of the poet's. It gives unity and consistency to the general theme, and is a remark- able climax in its answer to The Challenge of Thor. INTERLUDE 15. Heresies. Beliefs and even thoughts opposed to the orthodox faith. 16-25. Longfellow had lived to see the stern Puritan doctrines of New England modified by the milder and more humane teachings of Unitarianism. 25. Read the sermon on the Mount in Matthew v., vi., vii. 26. Calvin. A French Protestant reformer of the sixteenth cen- tury, noted for his stern doctrines of original sin and foreordination. Xotes on Tales of a Wayside Inn 447 The whole stanza coutrasts forms and verbal expressions of faith with the real essence of Christianity. 27. Athanasian creeds. The Athanasian or Nicene Creed became the standard of orthodoxy for Christendom as a result of a fierce con- tention between Arius and Athanasius and their followers, who had been summoned to a council at Nicaea in 325 A. D. to settle doctrinal disputes and to define heresy. 30. Decrees of Trent. The Council of Trent, which sat at intervals from 1545 to 1563, was held for the purpose of extirpating heresies and reforming morals. It was the result of a movement within the Roman church, known as the Counter- Reformation. 34. Litanies. Penitential supplicatory prayers, forming part of the church service. 35-36. Compare Luke xviii: 10-13. 41. Compare Revelation i: 4. 44-47. Compare Revelation ii: 17; iii: 21; ii: 28. 51. Phaniasiasts. A sect of the Monophysites holding that the body of Christ was always incorruptible, and that he died only phan- tasmally. 52. Man of Sorrows. Compare Isaiah liii: 3. 61. Old Fuller. Thomas Fuller, an English author and divine of the seventeenth centiu-y.' 62-63. Compare Luke iii: 22. THE THEOLOGIAN'S TALE TORQUEMADA This tale is based on the Spanish authority of Guillen de Castro, the historian of Spanish Protestantism. Longfellow speaks of his progress with Torqtiemada, and of his debt to De Castro, in his Journal of 1862. "November 29, 1862. At work on a tale called Torquemada for the Sudbury Tales." "December 5, imidnight . Finished Torquemada, — a dismal story of fanaticism; but in its main points historic. See De Castro, Protes- tantes Espanolas, page 310." The Inquisition, called the Holy Office, was established by Pope Gregory IX in 1235 to suppress heresy and pimish heretics. It was most active in Spain, Italy, and Portugal, and their dependencies. In Spain it attained its height during the latter years of the fifteenth cen- tury, and the term Spanish Inquisition has become famous in the polit- ical and religious history of Europe. Torquemada (1420-1498) was the first Spanish Inquisitor-general. The methods of the Inquisition appear to have been very severe. Longfellow's tale, Torquemada, is 448 Narrative Poems of Longfellow true to the spirit of the times and has the additional merit of represent- ing accurately the historic character, the Grand Inquisitor. 1-2. Ferdinand. King of Arragon, and Isabella, Queen of Castile, by their marriage, 1469, paved the way for the union of the two leading states of Spain. By 1492, this was accomplished ajid the basis of the Spanish monarchy was laid. 5. Valladolid. A city in a province of Old Castile. Columbus died there in 1506. 8. Hidalgo. A Spanish nobleman, not of the highest class, but en- titled to 1)0 called Don. 22. Wild beasts at Ephesiis. Compare I Corinthians xv: 32. 23. Lent. The annual church fast of forty days, from Ash Wed- nesday to Easter. 25. Plays of Corpus Christi. Miracle plays and pageants accom- panying the celebration of Corpus Christi Day, Thursday after Trinity Simday. Look up Miracle Plays in Bates's The English Religoua Drama, or in any history of E^nglish Dramatic Literature. 26. Palm Sunday. The Sunday preceding Easter, celebrating Christ's triumphal entry into Jerusalem. Compare Matthew xxi: 1-1 1 . 32. The Jews and Moors were treated with especial cruelty during the days of the Spani.sh Inquisition. Compare line 118. 125. Mystic horn. Torquemada is said to have kept the horn of a unicorn always with him, thinking it had some mysterious power of protecting him from harm. His fears were also responsible for the guard of the fifty horsemen, (line 114), 130. Compare Genesis xxii: 1-19. 175-180. The scaffold here described is probably the one still stand- ing in Seville. INTERLUDE 21. Compare line 8 of the first Interlude. 22. Night of Straparole. Straparola was an Italian novelist of the sixteenth century. A collection of his stories is popularly referred to as "Straparola's Nights." 23. Machiavelli's Belphegor. Machiavelli, an Italian statesman and writer (1469-1.527), in his Marriage of Belphegor, tells of an arch- fiend, formerly an archangel, who came to earth to spy out the unhap- piness of married life. Notes on Tales of a Wayside Inn 449 THE POET'S TALE THE BIRDS OF KILLINGWORTH This is one of the few tales in this series entirely original with the poet. It has however, been traced to a slight suggestion taken from a personal recollection of Mr. Henry Hull, a resident of Killingworth, Middlesex County, Connecticut. Some years ago, "the men of the northern part of the town did early in the spring choose two leaders, and then the two sides were formed; the side that got beaten should pay the bills. Their special game was the hawk, the owl. the crow, the blackbird, and any other bird supposed to be mischievous to the corn. Some years each side would bring them in by the bushel. This was followed up for only a few years, for the birds began to grow scarce." For Ijeauty of theme and wholesomeness of sentiment, the poem is one of the best in the present series. 4. Saxon Ccedmon. An English poet, living in the mi