What seeks Megone? His foes are near * Grey Jocelyn's eye is never sleeping, And the garrison lights are burning clear, Where Phillips'† men their watch are keeping. He starts- there's a rustle among the leaves : With Indian blood on his English sword? Has Scammon, versed in Indian wile, For vengeance left his vine hung isle ? § How lights the eye of Mogg Megone! The owner and commander of the garrison at Black Point, which Mogg attacked and plundered. He was an old man at the period to which the tale relates. † Major Phillips, one of the principle men of the Colony. His garrison sustained a long and terrible siege by the savages. As a magistrate and a gentleman, he exacted of his plebeian neighbors a remarkable degree of deference. The Court Records of the settlement inform us that an individual was fined for the heinous offence of saying that "Major Phillips' mare was as lean as an Indian dog." Captain Harmon, of Georgeana, now York, was, for many years, the terror of the Eastern Indians. In one of his expeditions up the Kennebec river, at the head of a party of rangers, he discovered twenty of the savages asleep by a large fire. Cautiously creeping towards them, until he was certain of his aim, he ordered his men to single out their objects. The first discharge killed or mortally wounded the whole number of the unconscious sleepers. § Wood Island, near the mouth of the Saco. It was visited by the Sieur De Monts and Champlain, in 1603. The following extract, from the journal of the latter, relates to it. "Having left the Kennebec, we ran along the coast to the westward, and cast anchor under a small island, near the main-land, where we saw twenty or more natives. I here visited an island, beautifully clothed with a fine growth of forest trees, particularly of the oak and walnut; and overspread with vines, that, in their season, produce excellent grapes. We named it the island of Bacchus."- Les voyages de Sieur Champlain. Liv. 2, c. 3. A smile gleams o'er his dusky brow Out steps, with cautious foot and slow, And nought of English fashion on; For he hates the race from whence he sprung, "Hush let the Sachem's voice be weak; The water-rat shall hear him speak The owl shall whoop in the white man's ear, A flush, as of shame, is stealing now: * John Bonython was the son of Richard Bonython, Gent., one of the most efficient and able magistrates of the Colony. John proved to be "a degenerate plant." In 1635, we find, by the Court Records, that, for some offence, he was fined 40s. In 1640, he was fined for abuse toward R. Gibson, the minister, and Mary, his wife. Soon after, he was fined for disorderly conduct in the house of his father. In 1645, the "Great and General Court" adjudged "John Bonython outlawed, and incapable of any of his majesty's laws, and proclaimed him a rebel." [Court Records of the Province, 1645.] In 1651, he bade defiance to the laws of Massachusetts, and was again outlawed. He acted independently of all law and authority; and hence, doubtless, his burlesque title of "The Sagamore of Saco," which has come down to the present generation in the following epitaph: "Here lies Bonython; the Sagamore of Saco, He lived a rogue, and died a knave, and went to Hobomoko." By some means or other, he obtained a large estate. In this poem, I have taken some liberties with him, not strictly warranted by historical facts, although the conduct imputed to him is in keeping with his general character. Over the last years of his life lingers a deep obscurity. Even the manner of his death is uncertain. He was supposed to have been killed by the Indians; but this is doubted by the able and indefatigable author of the history of Saco and Biddeford. Part I. p. 115. As far about as my feet can stray In the half of a gentle summer's day, From the leaping brook to the Saco river- There's a sudden light in the Indian's glance, Shall feel the knife of Mogg Megone; But the fawn of the Yengees shall sleep on my breast, "But father!"-and the Indian's hand Falls gently on the white man's arm, As the deep voice is slow and calm- And that his word is good and fair; The dark, stern eye of Bonython Flashes over the features of Mogg Megone, ; Remains where the trace of emotion has been. "Does the Sachem doubt? Let him go with me, And the eyes of the Sachem his bride shall see." *Foxwell's Brook flows from a marsh or bog, called the "Heath," in Saco, containing thirteen hundred acres. On this brook, and surrounded by wild and romantic scenery, is a beautiful waterfall, of more than sixty feet. Cautious and slow, with pauses oft, Hark!—is that the angry howl On his leafy cradle swung?- Indistinct, in shadow, seeming For its lamps of worship gleaming! In the pine leaves fine and small, By the fingers of the air, For the anthem's dying fall Lingering round some temple's wall! Hath it not a voice for us In the thunder, or the tone Words of blended love and fear, Of the mighty Soul of all? Nought had the twain of thoughts like these As they wound along through the crowded trees, Where never had rung the axeman's stroke Breaking the mesh of the bramble fine, Yet, even that Indian's ear had heard Shook from his soul the fear of harm, And trampled on the Powwaw's charm; A cottage hidden in the wood Red through its seams a light is glowing, A narrow lustre throwing. *Hiacoomes, the first Christian preacher on Martha's Vineyard; for a biography of whom the reader is referred to Increase Mayhew's account of the Praying Indians, 1726.. The following is related of him: "One Lord's day, after meeting, where Hiacoomes had been preaching, there came in a Powwaw very angry, and said, 'I know all the meeting Indians are liars. You say you don't care for the Powwaws;'-then, calling two or three of them by name, he railed at them, and told them they were deceived, for the Powwaws could kill all the meeting Indians, if they set about it. But Hiacoomes told him that he would be in the midst of all the Powwaws in the island, and they should do the utmost they could against him; and when they should do their worst by their witchcraft to kill him, he would without fear set himself against them, by remembering Jehovah. He told them also he did put all the Powwows under his heel. Such was the faith of this good man. Nor were these Powwaws ever able to do these Christian Indians any hurt, though others were frequently hurt and killed by them."- Mayhew's Book, pp. 6, 7, c. 1. |