NCBERTIE-L Archives

Archiver > NCBERTIE > 2000-03 > 0952979974


From: Crilley <>
Subject: [NCBERTIE] Legends and Memories of St John's Chapel
Date: Mon, 13 Mar 2000 14:39:34 -0600


>Date: Mon, 13 Mar 2000 07:03:56 -0800 (PST)
>From: "Sally M. Koestler" <>

Legends and Memories of St John's Chapel -
Addressed to R. A. Riddick
by Major John W. Moore

Part XVII - published in the Windsor Ledger Oct 12, 1899
Cont. the saga of Thomas Blount

At Last he met his charmer
In the town of Edenton,
A fair belle of Williamsburg
On a visit there had gone,
He, one of the Royal Council
Would be there for weeks to come
And the Virginia beauty
Like some flower in fullest bloom
So won upon him day by day
That both agreed longer to stay.

He told of his lonely lodge
Far from civil neighborhood,
And so long she pondered o'er
His asking her to intrude
Upon that lonely seat of love;
That he well nigh desperate,
Gave up the hope that she would come
And sought home, where till of late
His happy days had all been sweet
But heavy then in sad defeat.

But true love is hard to kill;
He resolved not yet to yield,
There is ever hope of triumph
To the knight who keeps the field;
So unto the Old Dominion
He went armed from spur to plume
And confronted the proud beauty
Soon he made her change her tune.
So Christmas Day saw bride and groom
Safely ensconced in their sweet home.

I can't tell you neighbor, mine,
Of the festive scenes and joy
Old Christmas saw out-cropping,
Every man became a boy,
And women too went almost mad
In their wild festivities,
Showing how her new made neighbors
Wished the lovely bride to please;
Sir Toby Belch and Argue Cheek
Could not the record fairly break.

Rarely in this world of our's
Have a couple like them made
Friends of every soul in reach,
Yea, of every tint and shade,
And by linking closer ever
Bonds of love and interest,
Found their lives the brighter growing,
And not yet content to rest
With the good already round them,
Ere old age and care had found them.

So with such sweetness ever
> In their bearing, unto all;
>The white people, like the Indians,
> All were bound in silken thrall,
>Highest honors with their blessings
> Gave they unto such a friend,
>While their fervid love and praises
> To his wife had never end
>For once in human thinking
> A man was found from foeman free.
>
>But their joys culminated
> In a lovely family
>God was pleased to allow them,
> Already blest so bountifully;
>And they watched their sons and daughters
> As they grew in beauty there,
>In the midst of savage neighbors
> And wild beast in his lair,
>Knowing He could well defend them,
> And all who trust Him to the end.
>
>For fifty years friend Robert,
> There had been no trouble seen
>'Twixt the Indian and Whites,
> And it still so would have been,
>But one vicious Thomas Carey
> Was by chance made Governor,
>And from that day until his death
> There was trouble and uproar;
>Nothing would do but he again
> As Governor once more should reign.
>
>He cared not for King or men
> Deaf to mercy and the law
>Only Carey's wealth and station
> Valued he a single straw;
>So when the king's appointee came
> Carey had to yield his place
>But he got in so much trouble
> And was sunk in such disgrace
>He like some devil incarnated
> With blood and war was only sated.
>
>As fugitive from justice
> He took refuge 'mongst the tribes
>The Indian mind he poisoned
> And incited them by bribes
>To rise in bloody massacre
> And his helpless country-men
>To slay at sight like folded sheep
> Bound in slumber's golden chain
>And told them if they rose not then
> The chance would never come again.
>
>The Tuscaroras pondered
> Very long and doubtingly
>They and their buried fathers
> Had been so honorably
>Bound in a bond unbroken long
> So 'twas hard to strike a blow
>On friends like these so trustful e'er
> And who oft with them would go
>As allies in the tented field
> On battle's front oft locking shield.
>
>This Carey and his agents
> Tried hard in old Bertie
>To work his scheme of vengeance,
> Which he found elsewhere easy;
>But the Indian Chief had been too long
> The dear friend of him who lay
>In restful peace so closely by,
> And where oft he spent the day;
>Not only guest but honored friend
> Whose sports with his would often blend.
>
>He had taken too his name
> And was also Thomas Blount,
>Blood brothers in a covenant,
> And should he all this surmount,
>For he loved his lordly people
> And their records of the past;
>Bravest of the brave they had been,
> Was it true that coming fast
>Was the day when their proud station
> Should come to utter desolation.
>
>So said Carey and his crew
> And they almost broke his heart,
>Yet the stern old heathen king
> Scorned to play such shameful part
>All unmoved he was as of yore
> But guarding night and day
>And watching with his own true braves
> Lest the foe should come that way
>So stern and sorrowful he stood
> To guard a friend he knew was good.
>
>The oath that he had taken,
> The dark secret well to keep
>Kept him from plainly telling
> What great danger on did sweep,
>But his friend was warned in season
> And such watch and ward he kept
>That no foe would hope to heaven him
> As he still in comfort slept;
>The nights were wild with wind and snow
> Yet sleepless all the watchers go.
>
>It was a fearful trial
> To the chief's untutored soul,
>When his brothers came around
> And their mission fully told,
>Of the white man's vast aggressions
> On the land their fathers won
>By long and bloody warfare
> Whom they said would now disown
>Their weak and craven children
> Should they longer supine lie,
>And see their last places taken
> Without seeking once to try
>What virtue yet was in their bows
> Victorious so far o'er all foes.
>
>Should the Great Spirit see them
> Bowing down eternally,
>Low before these new intruders
> Upon men for ages free,
>And so they wait in dumb submission
> Till their last dear hunting grounds
>Were all fenced in by the stranger,
> And no room for them be found;
>Why not then rise in freedom's might
> And for themselves and country fight.
>
>The Chieftain loved his people
> And traditions of the past
>He loved the great wide forest
> And the rivers flowing fast
>But he'd sworn by the great spirit
> That came ever weal or woe
>His blood-covernant should bind him.
> And God willing should be so
>Whatever other chiefs might do
> He and his men would still be true.
>
> [To be Continued]
>
>
>--
>Sally Koestler
>Sally's Family Place
>http://www2.txcyber.com/~smkoestl
>
>
>
Virginia

This thread: