SONGS OF SONGS OF NEW-SWEDEN SONGS OF NEW-SWEDEN BY ARTHUR PETERSON NEW EDITION CAREFUIvIvV REVISED BY THE AUTHOR THE ENGBRRG-HOLMBERG PUB. CO. CHICAGO Copyright 1913 By ARTHUR PETERSON NOTE The first permanent settlement upon the banks of the Delaware was made, as is well known, by the Swedes; and the whole country from the falls of the river (where now stands Trenton) to the capes was -originally called New-Sweden. From the landing of Peter Minuit, in 1638, down to the time of William Penn (a period of nearly half a century) the lan guage and customs of Sweden held almost exclusive sway along the Delaware. Now, save the old church es at Philadelphia and Wilmington, and the Swedish names which still dot the chart of the river, scarcely anything remains to tell the modern inquirer of a time which has almost escaped the pen of the legend ary. Although the last four of these poems treat of events which occurred after the close of the Swedish dominion, and during the rule of the Knglish, it has not seemed inappropriate to include them under one head with the others. A. P. Red Gates Overbrook, Pennsylvania August 1. 1912 DEDICATION These to my father s memory, since He held them best of all my lays, I dedicate: these rhymes of days Whose hero was the doughty Printz; When on this shore the Northmen dwelt, And in these streams their shallops laved, While yet the primeval forest waved, And ere the form of Penn here knelt. Farewell, New-Sweden, quaint, to thee! Forerunner of that city fair Before whose gates the Delaware Rolls his dark waters to the sea. Farewell, ye children of the North! Forgotten are those earlier days, And few the pens, like mine, to praise Your simple lives, your pious worth. PROLOGUE I sing a time when o er this region waved The flag of Sweden; when the Delaware s flood Was yet unnamed by English tongue; when dwelt By many a creek, on many a sunny knoll, The fair-haired, sturdy children of the north. Three hundred years, almost, have come and gone Since on this strand, with banners waving bright, Fair Scandia set her foot. What shapes arise From out the past, and gather round me! What Forgotten sounds accost my ear! I see The log-built fort on Tinicum, the flag Which hangs so drowsily in the summer air, The sentries pacing to and fro, the flash Of bayonets in the sun. I see the quaint Costumes of Sweden as, on Sabbath days, The people gather to the church: a tongue Unknown by us they speak. Ah, like a dream, SONGS OF NEW-SWEDEN Useless to call to mind, that simpler time To the keen race which treads our streets to-day. These half-forgotten stories, culled with love From books scarce-known, take, you who care to read. 10 I. THE COMING OF PRINTZ John Printz, a Lieutenant-Colonel in the Swedish Army, (afterwards a General) was the ablest of the Governors of New-Sweden; and is altogether the most conspicuous figure in the history of the colony. During his administration (1643-1653) the settlement was in its most flourishing condition. Though haughty and domineering in his relations with the Dutch, his conduct toward the Indians was always of the most friendly character. In remuneration for his long and excellent services to the crown of Swe den, the Island of Tinicum, in the Delaware, was granted to him and his heirs; but he tired of the un eventful life of a colony; and, in 1653, returned to the mother country. What flag is that? What ships are they W T hich round Henlopen s cape, 11 SONGS OF NEW-SWEDEN And o er the blue waves of the bay, Their gallant courses shape? Tis warlike Sweden s banner bright; And hers these vessels three, Which long have stretched their wings in flight, "Fame," "Swan," and "Charity." Behind the old world looms in dreams, The new world lies before, A land like paradise it seems To Printz, the governor. A soldier he, with visage stern, And heart that knows not fear; He fights where er his colors burn, For queen and country dear. The light of seas is in his eyes, Bred from old viking blood; Like to those bright-haired sires he hies Unto the warmer flood. Strange scents come to him from the sands, And banks of salty sward, Where, on the Fame s high deck, he stands, Brown hand upon his sword. 12 SONGS OF NEW-SWEDEN Dark lies the night of winter o er Homes left behind the sea; But spring, upon this sunny shore, Already wakes the lea. In groups the Swedish farmers smile, And stroke the yellow beard; And rosy matrons lift, awhile, Sweet children to be cheered. Xo longer round the voyagers heaves The blue brine of the bay; Each prow the stately river cleaves, And drinks the freshening spray. Strange figures gather to the shore, Bedecked with skins and paint; Wild as that forest o er whose floor They range without restraint. But friendly is the martial hand Of Printz, the Governor; Like brother steps he on their land, Peace in his mien, not war. In ear-shot of the Swedish drum Dark sachems hunt and tilt; 13 SONGS OF NEW-SWEDEN And love the Isle of Tinicum, Where Printz s Hall is built. II PRINTZ S HALL "Printz seems to have come to America," says William C. Armor, in "Lives of the Governors of Pennsylvania," "with the expectation of holding court in the New World with all the formality and insignia of royalty preserved by the petty potentates of Europe. He is represented by De Vries, who came in a ship from New Amsterdam to visit him in October, 1643, as a man very furious and passionate, immense in person, weighing over four hundred pounds, and as drinking three drinks at every meal. (De Vries probably means three bottles.) He was difficult of access, requiring communication to be made to him in writing. He built himself a palace suited to his rank, in the midst of orchards and pleasure-grounds, the bricks used in its construction having been brought from Stockholm. These bricks, of a pale- yellow color, and quite small, are still found in the neighborhood." 14 SONGS OF NEW-SWEDEN "Printz s Hall," says Benjamin Ferris, in his "History of the Original Settlements on the Dela ware," "stood more than 160 years, and was at last burnt down by accident, since the commencement of the present (19) century." My heart goes back to rhyme Upon that olden time ! Three hundred years are fled, The ancient speech is dead, Since on the isle of Tinicum, Green as an emerald fair, Rimmed by the Delaware, Was heard the morning drum, Or evening church-bells chime. Eyeing the drowsy flood, A mighty mansion stood; Builded of brick and wood Carried from Sweden s shore By Printz, the Governor. Herein he drank his wine, Watching the river shine 15 SONGS OF NEW-SWEDEN Beyond the level fields. Here, proud and wild, The sachems filed, And found him just and mild. But never yields The sword he wields, Nor pales his brow of tan, Before the Holland man, Before Manhattan s clan. Gaily and gallantly, Symbol of victory, Fair Sweden s banner blows, Nor rival fears nor knows! Ill THE SETTLEMENT 1. Give, O ye Muses of Song, a sketch of old days in New-Sweden, When o er the Delaware floated, unchallenged, the flag of Christina. 16 SONGS OF NEW-SWEDEN 2. Peaceful and primitive, then, were the lives and homes of the people; Busily plowed the farmer, or hunted the deer in the forest; Busily flew the wheel when the thrifty housewife sat spinning. Built of logs was each house, and painted red, as in Sweden; Built of logs was the barn, with its stalls for horses and cattle; Round about, in the fields, where the land had been cleared of the forest, Ripened the Indian-corn, to be ground into meal for the winter. Six days labored the folk, but when rose the sun of the Sabbath, Rifle and plow were dropped, and the wheel stood still in its corner. Then, from near and from far, to the churches three of the province, One at Tinicuin, one at Wiccaco, one at Christina, 17 SONGS OF NEW-SWEDEN Gathered the congregations, God-fearing men and their households. Mostly by water they carne, avoiding the tortuous wood-paths, Loving the canvas and oar, and the sights and sounds of the river, Loving the lift of the wave, like their grim fore fathers, the vikings. Picturesque was the scene as the people entered the church-door, Bach one wearing the dress of his native parish in Sweden; Youths in embroidered jackets, and maidens in bodices scarlet, Here the farmer of Smaland, in buckskin waistcoat and breeches, There, in her Sunday attire, the Dalecarlian matron. 3. Hardly a league from the spot where now stands the city of Chester, Hardly a league from its mills, and the bustle and din of its ship-yards, 18 SONGS OF NEW-SWEDEN Lies the Island of Tinicum, dotted with picturesque homesteads. Three miles in length it extends, in width a mile and a quarter, Rimmed by the waters of Darby creek and the Dela ware river. Here, at the time of my tales, were the Swedish head quarters. A fortress, Fashioned of hemlock-logs, commanded the creek and the river; Back of it stood the church, where preached from the pulpit, each Sunday, Doctor John Campauius, he who likewise translated Into the Indian tongue the catechism written by Luther; While on the upland, its walls of yellow brick, carried from Sweden, Stood the mansion of Printz, that Governor doughty, who figures Always as friend of the Indian, and always as foe of the Dutchman. This, say the chroniclers old, was the handsomest house in the province, 19 SONGS OF NEW-SWEDEN Large, substantially built, and tastefully furnished within-doors. Printz s Hall it was called. Before it (a fashion from Holland) Stood an octagonal pleasure-house; round it a garden extended, Where, in symmetrical beds, bloomed hyacinths, tulips, and jonquils; Back, over slight undulations, orchards of apple and pear trees, Apricot, cherry and peach trees, spread with their bountiful harvests. Thus appeared Tinicum Island, thus passed the old days in New-Sweden, When o er the Delaware floated, unchallenged, the flag of Christina. 20 SONGS OF NEW-SWEDEN IV THE LADY ARMAGOT Arnigart (or, as it is generally written in the old records, Armagot) Pfintz, the daughter of Governor Printz, accompanied her father to America, resided with him on Tinicum Island, and there, in 1644, be came the wife of Lieutenant John Pappegoya. On the return of Printz to Sweden he left his son-in-law in temporary charge of the province, to await the ar rival of John Claudius Rising, the newly-appointed Governor. In the spring of 1654, Rising having ar rived, John Pappegoya likewise returned to Sweden; his wife, however, remaining in the province. Here, in the extensive mansion built by Governor Printz upon Tinicum, she continued to dwell for many years; alone, save for a few servants, and living an almost secluded life. Though sometimes called by the name of her husband, she was generally known, both to the Swedes and the Dutch, by her maiden name of Armagot Printz, which she herself always used. "She had no children," says Dr. George Smith, in his "History of Delaware County," and this fact renders 21 SONGS OF NEW-SWEDEN her long-continued solitary residence on the Delaware the more remarkable." PART FIRST. In her garden, where the river Round the Isle of Tinicuni Swings with stately movement ever, And the proud world s voice is dumb, Like some spirit of the spot, Kneels the Lady Armagot. Still and cold, in pale moonlight, Round about her statues stand; But as still her head so bright, And as cold her lily-hand; Strange thy heart is not more gay, Lady, on thy wedding-day! Daughter of the Governor, Of the gallant Printz, is she; Who in many a godly war Fought for Sweden, o er the sea; Here, to rule this gentle land, Came he by his queen s command. 22 SONGS OF NEW-SWEDEN On the hill, above the river, Stands the stately hall he made; Round it lights of revel quiver On the garden s leafy shade; In it, where the gay lamps shine, Smiles the bridegroom o er his wine. Pale John Pappegoya s face. In his life at camp and court, In his strife for wealth and place, He has burnt youth s candle short; But the yellow gold he sought Now a bonny bride hath brought. PART SECOND. Ten the years of mirth and tears Which across the world have flown; To the castles of his peers, To the palace and the throne, To his Sweden s sombre tints, Has returned the mighty Printz. Now John Pappegoya s hand, From the Isle of Tinicum, 23 SONGS OF NEW-SWEDEN Rules New-Sweden s fertile land; But each day the merry hum Of the court is in his ear; Little pleasure finds he here. Faded is the rosy cheek Of the Lady Armagot; And her blue eyes ever seek Resting-place where he is not; In his breast love s flame burns dim, Dead was aye her heart for him. In the spring-time of the year, Down the river, out the bay, For fair Stockholm s wit and cheer Lightly will they sail away: Gay his blood runs at the thought; She, soul- sickening, cares for naught. What to her the court, the dance? Dearer far the wild pine s sighing. Once, in girlhood, would this chance Have set golden fancies flying: Now the ashes of her heart Choke the roses that would start. 24 SONGS OF NEW-SWEDEN PART THIRD. In her chamber, stern and still, Stands she, looking o er the river; Tis to-morrow s winds will fill Those white sails which yonder quiver; Tis to-morrow s dawn so dim Which will see her hence with him. Sounds a step her spirit knows; Comes her husband in the door; From her face all color goes That has softened it before; With a voice whose accent seeks Naught but bitterness, she speaks. "On the morrow, when thou sailest, Wherefore need I go with thee ? Long my eyes have seen thou failest In thy promised love for me; But how can these lips reprove thee? Well thou know st I ne er did love thee. "In this house, which to my father Sweden gave, for him and his, 25 SONGS OF NEW-SWEDEN Let rne dwell, forever, rather Than thy home, whate er it is; True my life shall be to thee; True thou needst not be to rne." Somewhat paler with surprise Does John Pappegoya grow; Then, with cold light in his eyes, Bows gallantly, and speaks low; "Madam, I would hold you not; Farewell, Lady Armagot!" PART FOURTH. Yellow wave the autumn willows Round the Isle of Tinicurn; Save the river s little billows, Plashing ever, all is dumb; Rank has grown the garden s sod Since the mighty Printz here trod. Never, now, within his hall, Runs the wine and rings the laughter; Seems the ivy like a pall, Covering wall and covering rafter; 26 SONGS OF NEW-SWEDEN Only, in the silent spot, Dwells the Lady Armagot. Years have come, and years have gone, Since adown the turbid river, On that misty April dawn, Sailed John Pappegoya; never Knows she, now, a husband s claim; Armgart Printz once more her name. In the little church where meet Rich and poor, from far and near, For that sacred service sweet To the pious tongue and ear, Kneels she, with her head so bright Bowed beneath two cherubs sight. Gentle she to one and all, Though for friends she seems to care not, In her home no children call, Of her husband ask they dare not, They who, in her faded cheek, Read some grief she will not speak. 27 SONGS OF NEW-SWEDEN Comes a time in winter dreary When she sickens for the spring; Comes a night when home her weary Spirit heavenly angels bring; May the God who gives us rest Fold her closely to his breast! V BRITA PART FIRST. 1. A mighty hnnter of the deer, A fisherman in silent mere, A trapper by the river reed Was Olaf; his the huntsman s meed. Azure his eyes, yellow his beard, Seldom among men he appeared, But down within the piny wood, Somewhere, his habitation stood. 2. A daughter had he like himself In loneliness a forest elf, A fairy that all secrets knew 28 SONGS OF NEW-SWEDEN Of bird and herb and midnight dew, Born of a Lapland mother who Had died to give her baby birth: She scarcely seemed to be of earth. 3. She had her father s eyes so fair, His silent ways, his golden hair. A harp, nnto whose wondrous string A scald of ocean once did sing, She played upon, and could command Sweet music with her elfin hand. Sometimes, when by the river s flow To sell his game would Olaf go, Up to the fort on Tinicum, Brita, to hear the fife and drum, And see the soldiers proud and gay, Would trudge beside him all the way, With harp to help her roundelay, And to the homesick garrison Would sing old songs of booty won, Of love, and fame, And princely name, And glorious always was her pay. 29 SONGS OF NEW-SWEDEN 4. Strange was lier father, like a ghost Who came, then in the woods was lost; Strange had her Lapland mother been, Seer of visions few have seen; Stranger than either was the child, Singing her northern ballads wild. 5. Among the officers was one On whom she gazed like flower on sun, A courtly youth, with eyes of gray, Who had from Sweden sailed away With Printz, and would return some day. And when to him she sang, sometimes, Her voice would tremble on the rhymes; And cold her slender hands would grow, Which should be merry with youth s glow; And in her eyes, when he was near, There shone a light so sad and clear It almost trembled in a tear. 6. But to his mind the wild song brought Dreams of a maid whose hand he sought, 30 SONGS OF NEW-SWEDEN Who, in her castle o er the sea, Waited for him so faithfully. And when, at even-tide, he saw Brita, the harper, round her draw The poor and faded cloak of gray Which from her childish limbs did keep The cruel autumn winds away, He little knew what passionate sleep Was hers, down in the piny wood, Where Olaf s habitation stood. PART SECOND. 1. Spring lightly stepped across the land, Scattering wild flowers from her hand; And into sudden maidenhood Bloomed Brita, down in piny wood; But to the soldiers of the fort, And to the sailors of the port, Oft, still, she sang her songs; nor feared Insult while Olaf s yellow beard Behind her, like a flame, appeared. 31 SONGS OF NEW-SWEDEN 2. But one bright day, When summer lay Over the land like mother s smile, In a lone spot, Where men came not, She stayed for Olaf; (who, meanwhile, Unto the Upland people sold The booty of a forage bold) And spying, where it shone so blue, A flower that o er the river grew, Upon a high, outstretching bank, Whose narrow base the stream did flank, She left her harp (without whose string, Accompanying, she would seldom sing) Below, and quickly climbed till she The treasure clasped; then suddenly Round her the forest seemed to swim; Waves closed above her; sense grew dim. 3. Beside the river strolled, that day, An officer from Tinicum; He saw the jutting bank give way, 32 SONGS OF NEW-SWEDEN A cry he heard, then all was dumb. O bush and vine retard him not, He leaps, a rescuer, to the spot! Lo, by the river s brink, the harp Of Brita hers that cry so sharp ! Lo, in the deep and turbid stream, A figure hers he could but deem ! 4. Against young Axel s heart was pressed A bosom ne er before so blessed; And as, from out the flood, he bore Brita in safety to the shore, Rested upon her face his eyes In admiration and surprise. A dreamy child, old Olaf s lass, He oft, ere this, had marked her pass; Minstrel of wave-girt Tinicum, Whose songs the soldiery would hum; But in a few swift months had grown A woman, and a child had flown. 5. All pale, upon the mossy bank, He laid her, then beside her knelt; 33 SONGS OF NEW-SWEDEN His eyes her budding beauty drank, Within his heart love s joy he felt; While she, encircled by his arms, Rested as though beyond all harms. 6. At last, unto the soldier s ear Came wandering accents, growing clear, As on a face she oft had seen Gazed Brita, with half-conscious mien. How like the blue forget-me-not Those eyes which shone upon him now! How like the rose those blushes hot Illuminating cheek and brow! Then, suddenly rising, she put off (So doth a flower its calyx doff) The cloak of blue which he had thrown About her, and, in faltering tone, The flame still burning on her cheek, She tried her gratitude to speak. 7. A snap as of a broken bush- Then through the underwood did push, 34 SONGS OF NEW-SWEDEN With hunter stride, and shouldered gun, Olaf, his Upland business done. A cloud came o er his blue eyes gleam, Much mystified he, too, did seem, To see, together, by the stream, The officer of Tinicuni, And Brita, standing wet and numb. But when the story he had heard, Told in his daughter s gentle word, A look came into his strange face Such as had seldom lit the place; And, with a moisture in his eye He left for the soft breeze to dry, He clasped the soldier s youthful hand And spoke his thanks; though, all unmanned, Scarce could he speak the words he planned. 8. Then from his shoulders broad he drew A cloak, which he o er Brita threw, And, while in silence Axel stood, They disappeared within the wood. 35 SONGS OF NEW-SWEDEN PART THIRD. 1. East of the river Delaware, Between it and the ocean s wave, There is a land which now dotli bear The title England later gave, In honor of that loyal lord Who held fair Jersey s island-sward : A land once covered by the sea It is, o er whose reality Still broods the ocean s mystery: A region wild and desolate, Left by the waters to its fate: A seemingly-haunted tract: a land Of low pine-wood, and gray sea-sand, And dismal pools, and marshes old, And ancient sea-things turned to mold Beneath the sand s o er- sweeping fold: Here once the Atlantic billows rolled. 2. Hidden in the depths of the pine-wood, Here, now, the home of Olaf stood. 36 SONGS OF NEW-SWEDEN 3. A lamp is set in Brita s room, It glimmers through the midnight gloom: Is it to. guide Him to her side Who through the forest now doth ride ? If tis for that woe will betide ! 4. How pale her elfin face to-night ! How trembles she, as if with fright! Far off is Olaf; wassail s sound The sough of the wild pines has drowned; To Printz, the merry Governor, He sells his game, a goodly store, And till the morrow will be gone. Doth Brita fear to be alone? Answer ye eyes Which to the skies Like stars more beautiful arise! 5. A shadow cometh from the wood, It is a horse and rider good; 37 SONGS OF NEW-SWEDEN An eye doth heed the lonely light, Shining, like Hero s, through the night; A hand doth knock upon the door, Which never rested there before; A kiss doth fall on Brita s cheek, For which would Olaf vengeance wreak. PART FOURTH. 1. Immortal Venus, queen of Love, What life is theirs whom thou dost move ! What ecstasies! What blinded eyes! What hearts which naught save dalliance prize! What sweet forgetfulness of things Terrestrial, and of Time s swift wings! 2. Tis midnight often since that hour When first the pines did round him lower, Borne on by Love, has Axel come, A secret guest, to Olaf s home; Unbidden unseen save by the one Who in her chamber waits alone When up to Tinicum hath gone 38 SONGS OF NEW-SWEDEN Her father, or, upon the mere, By torch-light, hunts the antlered deer. 3. Tis midnight and, from Brita s room, A light shines on the forest s gloom; Within how blissful is the air To him who beauty s bower doth share; There are some jewels in her hair Which Axel s hand hath twisted there, But plaintively her fingers pass Over her harp, as if, alas, She felt some shadow drawing near, Whose breath did fill her soul with fear. Beside her, at her gentle feet, So fair to see, so frailly fleet To wander into paths unmeet, Sits Axel, winding tresses sweet. 4. Unto her music listening, He does not speak he does not move; But ever holds those locks of love, About his fingers glistening. 39 SONGS OF NEW-SWEDEN Then, as the strange chords die away, And she her harp doth cease to play, Around her elfin shape he flings His arm, and to her thus he sings: SONG. "Brita, with her golden hair, Plays for me a wizard air; Dressed in white Is she to-night, Like a spirit strange and fair; Or enchantress who, from lands Where no human foot ere stands, Draws the fairy By the eerie Music of her milk-white hands. u As the room her music fills, As the sweet, fantastic trills Wander out into the night, Flying spirits hear aright: Tis no melody of earth Which thus lures them from their mirth; Tis the magic of a hand 40 SONGS OF NEW-SWEDEN Skilled to rule the fairy band; From their singing, Ether winging, Come they at the sweet command. "Circling round me, as I sit, In the window spirits flit. Goblins flying past the moon Hear the potent prelude soon And, in cloaks of green and gray, Merrily proceed this way. Each upon a broomstick good, Ride the witches from the wood; Peaked cap and scarlet shoe, Much the damage they can do; But no mischief-making flight Meditates this throng to-night. Now, afloat on perfumed wind Blowing straight from fairy-land, All her nymphs a train behind, Comes some queen with wand in hand. Spirits dark and spirits bright, Inky imps whose day is night, Naiads who with wave-drops gleam 41 SONGS OF NEW-SWEDEN Fresh from the pellucid stream, Ghosts of cobwebbed corridors Where naught human treads the floors, All the mystic beings we Dream about but seldom see, Revel in this room to-night, (Round and round, As in a swound) Where the elf -queen plays in white. "Brita, O thou knowest well How to weave the conjurer s spell ! In what kingdom of the air Didst thou, with thy golden hair, Learn those things that few would dare? From what hag, or wizard old, Heardst thou first this witch-call bold, That from off the silent wold, And from out the dripping cave, Brings these sprites that round thee rave? "Brita, with thy magic art Thou hast won my wandering heart; In the mesh of thy sweet hair 42 SONGS OF NEW-SWEDEN Thou dost hold it, sorceress fair; By the music thou dost make Charmed, I have no wish to wake; But, as now, in sight of thee, Dressed in white, With jewels bright, Playing in the summer night, Fain would lie eternally." 5. A tear doth shine in Brita s eye, She trembles as his accents die, Perhaps tis but the night-wind chill, Perhaps his singing suits her ill, But closer to him she doth draw, As if a ghost she felt or saw. 6. What ails the air to-night? What woe Impending will the morrow show? What thoughts oppress young Axel s heart, And make him from his dreaming start? What cruel words, alas, are they His faltering lips now strive to say? 43 SONGS OF NEW-SWEDEN 7. To-morrow, ere the close of day, For Sweden will he sail away, To-morrow, broken-hearted, she For the last time his face will see, To-morrow, at the set of sun, For them will love s sweet dream be done. PART FIFTH. 1. It is a night in early March, The moon looks down from heaven s great arch Upon a spot where few e er come, Olaf the hunter s forest home. The spring is lengthening fast the day, But wintry, still, the winds which play With ancient pine, and cedar dark, That on the sand wild shadows mark; And cold the waters of the pool, For hard has been the winter s rule. 2. Into the sight Of Luna bright There comes a figure dumb and white; 44 SONGS OF NEW-SWEDEN From Olaf s door, The gray sand o er, Toward the dark wood it takes its flight; Tis Brita; hers that golden hair, That pallid face, distraught yet fair. 3. Deep in a gloomy grove of pine, Where resinous odors ever float, There is a pool unknown to line, And never crossed by hunter s boat. A horror round it seems to dwell, Why, those who pass it ne er can tell, But rumor whispers tis a place Where evil spirits show the face. Shunned was it in the red man s day And the New-Sweden of my lay. 4. Upon its sullen waters deep, A figure floats in death s last sleep; Beautiful as in a swoon, All silvered by the silent moon; Closed are those eyes, as wild-flowers blue, Still is that heart love s power o erthrew; 45 SONGS OF NEW-SWEDEN Never again, within this world, For her sad human mysteries; Above her angels wings are furled, Which soon shall bear her to the skies. 5. At daybreak, when the east was red, By prescient dream, or instinct led, There came a being desolate Unto this shore and pool of fate. Yellow his beard, azure his eyes, After a daughter sweet he flies, Brita the name of this dear life, Born to him by a dying wife, Where hath she wandered in the night? Where doth she lie, in some sad plight? 6. In other regions is her soul, Already hath she passed death s goal, It is not she that drifts, so white, Among the reeds before his sight, Tis but a body born of earth, Though beautiful in grief or mirth, 46 SONGS OF NEW-SWEDEN She breathes, methinks, iu shape more fair, Celestial, not terrestrial air! 7. Where sighing pines their branches wave Was made, with stricken hands, a grave. Over it still, spring after spring, Their liquid hymn, the thrushes sing; And in the sand sweet blossoms grow, Marking her dust that lies below. But never more, in wood-path wild, Or clearing where the harvest smiled, Or in the fort, or in the town, Or by the river, swollen and brown, Was Olaf seen, or heard his deed, By Indian swart, or fair-haired Swede. VI ERIC THE ARCHER PRELUDE 1. A hostelry in Upland town; l 1 Now Chester, Pennsylvania. The name was changed from Upland to Chester by William Penn. 47 SONGS OF NEW-SWEDEN Outside the rain was pouring down; Within the night With mirth was bright, And wassail did the tempest drown; The fire was warm, the ale was good, The landlord in a jovial mood, And merrily ran the Norsemen s blood. 2. Grouped round the blazing logs of Yule, Tales of their forefathers they told; Of vikings who the seas did rule, Skillful in storm, in battle bold; Of one whose boat, Tis said, did float Once on this broad South River s breast: Whose men did land Where now doth stand The Hall of Printz; whose life was quest; Who, eagle-like, espied the West Long ere the illustrious Genoese Sensed land upon the Haytian breeze; Whose galleys sailed from Norway down, Tost thither by tempestuous seas, 48 SONGS OF NEW-SWEDEN Unto a spot before ne er told, The Vinland of the Sagas old, 1 A region, henceforth of renown The Paradise of Leif the bold; Unto a fair and fruitful land Where, though implanted by man s hand, The purple grape filled all the wood, And, though unsown, from green to gold, 1 It has never been definitely settled, and probably never will be, just where the Vinland of the Sagas was situated; but the writer here make? a plea for the shores of the Delaware River and Bay as being the site of Leif s original landing and Thorfmn s colony. Labrador, Newfoundland, Nova Scotia and various places on the coast of New England have been mentioned, but there seems to be no locality which fits the brief descrip tion given in the Saga generally preferred by scholars (commonly called Hauk s Book/ so well as the shores of the Delaware. The name given to the country by Leif indicates clearly that one of the things which impressed him most was the profusion of grapes growing wild in the forest, and this feature is more than confirmed by the reports of the Swedish and English settlers of the ijth Century. Rising, the Swedish governor, and Kalm, the naturalist, both speak of the abundance of wild grapes and the good wines (red and white) to be made from them; and William Penn, in his letter of 1683 to the Free Society of Traders, Lon don, makes special mention of the profusion of wild grapes, "of divers sorts"; and recommends that a French wine-maker be sent out to the province. Watson, in his celebrated "Annals", (a veritable storehouse of information relating to the early Swedish and English settlers) quaintly says: "Numerous incidental intimations and facts evince the expectations originally entertained for making this a flourishing grape and wine country. Before Penn s arrival, the numerous grapevines, everywhere climbing the branches of our forest trees, gave some sanction to the idea that ours may have been the ancient Wineland so mysteri- 49 SONGS OF NEW-SWEDEN Ripened the corn npon the wold, And every thing, save man, seemed good; Unto that land beyond the seas Where now, amidst primeval trees Embowered, stands fair Upland town, A new- world gem in Sweden s crown. 3. Last spoke, with details long drawn out, A learned burgher, hale and stout; His hair and beard with years were gray, But red his cheeks as apples gay, And bright his eyes As though youth s skies Danced over him but yesterday. A man of mark was he, and bore ously spoken of by the Norwegian writers. Almost all the navigators, on their several discoveries, stated their hopes, from the abundance of grape-vines, with exultation. But neglecting these we have substituted whiskey! " The "self-sown grain" was probably the maize, or Indian corn. As to the climate, the Saga says: "No snow came there, and all of their live stock lived by grazing, and thrived." Does that sound like a Nev.- England winter? In Southern Delaware and Maryland, however, in the neighborhood of the Delaware and Chesapeake Bays, it is quite common to have a winter with practically no snow. The latitude of Lewes, ft the mouth of Delaware Bay, is farther south than that of "V/ashington, D. C.; and the sea air has a tendency to prevent the snow from lying on the ground. 50 SONGS OF NEW-SWEDEN A name well-known on Sweden s shore, For of his blood those brothers twain Who figure in great Vasa s reign, Divines both bold and erudite, Born or to reason or to fight. 1 4. Their chairs his listeners nearer pull; He drains the glass which has been full, And, while the lights and shadows flit Over the groups that round him sit, Relates the tale which here is writ. ERIC THE ARCHER PART FIRST. There was a king in Norroway, Whose name was Gorin the Red ; His beard was like a sunrise gay, 1 Olaf and Lawrence Peterson, who, in the reign of Gustavus Vasa, introduced Protestantism into Sweden. They were born in Orebro, Sweden, and studied in Germany under Luther. Olaf was rector of the church in Stockholm, and afterward High Chancellor of the Kingdom. "By his preaching and publications, and the composition of the Church Manual," says Professor Butler, in his History of the Reformation in Sweden, "Olaf gave shape and organization to the church." Lawrence was elected Archbishop of Upsal by the Assembly of Bishops in 1531, at the age of 32, and was the first Protestant Archbishop in Sweden. He administered the metropolitan See of Upsal (which corresponds to that of Canterbury in England ) for forty years. He was ennobled, and married a cousin of the King. 51 SONGS OF NEW-SWEDEN And like the north-light dread His royal head. Of fir the banquet hall was built Where oft he wassailed long; When on the waves his ships did tilt, Served was he, right or wrong, By vikings strong. Round the far Mediterranean s capes His white-winged galleys flew; And like phantasmagoric shapes Rose from the waters blue. Whence? No man knew. For here were famous cities old, Whose treasures none could tell; But each and all before the bold Stroke of the Norsemen fell, From fiord and dell. And here were dark-eyed maidens sweet, With lips like fruit divine: O booty for a viking meet, When, homeward-bound, in line His galleys shine! 52 SONGS OF NEW-SWEDEN And here, to mark his warlike flight, A banner Gorni had made; Whereon, upon a field of white, A raven was displayed, Worked in black braid. It was the bird of Odin great, His ancestor divine; From Heaven it bore the word of Fate, And victory did assign, ^ O 7 Or woe condign. A raven o er his helmed brow Perched in auspicious ease; A raven decked his galley s prow, Sitting above the seas, Where swept the breeze. A mighty and a merry king, In sooth, was Gorni the Red; And, next to battle, loved the ring Of song, or dancer s tread; Gloom from him fled. Like Solomon of old he sipped The sweets from many a flower; 53 SONGS OF NEW-SWEDEN Kach sea wherein his galleys dipped Saw maids with beauty s dower Culled for his bower. But grizzled grew the mighty Gorm, And grim his merry face, And came a time when woman s form Suffered he not to grace His dais-place. Where did the Goddess Freya stay, Where did she roam or rest, That nevermore in Norroway Was maid meet to be pressed To kingly breast? So gloomily, in the banquet-hall, He sat and bit his beard; And by him when he strode, so tall, No woman s face appeared; Shunned was he and feared. At last, howe er, a viking bold Sought out the king and said That in a Lapland village old, 54 SONGS OF NEW-SWEDEN Lived one whom Thor might wed, Or Odin dread. A maiden gentle as the fawn, And chaste as the new moon, And beautiful as summer-dawn; The gods of Asgard soon W T ould grasp such boon. Far up the coast of Norroway, Where red the Aurora rolled, Nestled this fishing-village gray, Within the azure fold Of fiord so cold. Then Gorm bethought him of a youth Ready to do or die, And in his simple word was truth, And in his frank blue eye Shone honor high. Eric the Archer was he called; So swift and sure his arrow That, lightning-like, so sang the scald, Armor, flesh, bone and marrow Its fang would harrow. 55 SONGS OF NEW-SWEDEN To him then spoke King Gorm the Red: "Take thou good galleys three, And, that to her I may be wed, This maiden o er the sea Bring back to me." PART SECOND. Sped the archer Eric then, Gathered ships and arms and men, Sailed away into the north, Where the beard of Thor streams forth, Sailed away unto that land Ruled, twas said, by warlock s hand, Land of Lapp and Finn, whose shape Endeth in the polar cape. Bright the ships of Eric shone In these waters gray and lone; Golden-headed , Ocean- wedded, Stared his dragons o er the deep. Save when anchored, Or age-cankered, Ne er the Norseman s horses sleep! 56 SONGS OF NEW-SWEDEN Red the warriors shields did ride All along each dragon s side; Scales impenetrable seemed When athwart the coast they gleamed. Thus, with banner and with spear, Bringing wonderment and fear, Sailed the archer Eric forth, Till the Arctic seas he felt; Far away into the north, Where the maiden, Signe, dwelt. Ronnd and round the polar sun, Like a wheel, each day did run; Never sank in all his flight, But, when it should be midnight. Over earth and ocean he Cast a light of mystery, Wherein all things seemed to be Things of unreality; Cast a preternatural light, Like the ether which makes bright Dreamland to a dreamer s sight. Last his galleys Eric brought Safely to the haven sought, 57 SONGS OF NEW-SWEDEN And right garrulous found the folk, When of Signe fair he spoke. Ne er was such a lovely face Seen before in all this place; Such a charming foot and hand In this or any other land; Freya, with her golden hair, Than this maid was not more fair. From his galleys and their men Went the archer Eric then, And the maiden Signe found In her simple raiment gowned. When she heard his steps draw near, Quickly she, in sudden fear, Turned, as does the startled deer: Sure a king was he who came, Red his mantle as a flame, Round his neck a golden torque, Beard divided like a fork, On his helm a raven sat, And upon the shield he bore, Outlined on its surface flat, Likewise perched the bird of war. 58 SONGS OF NEW-SWEDEN Low he bowed before the maid, W 7 ho her heart did thus upbraid: Heart, why shouldst thou be afraid Of a prince so fair and tall? May be at my feet his all Lays he as, by beauty won, Kings in sagas old have done. Then the word of Gorm the Red Eric spoke; but nothing said Of the love which filled his heart As he watched the blushes start On the maiden s cheeks and brow; Not for him was Signe noAv; Said no word, and made no sign Of the heart which in him bled; But, across the bitter brine, Bore her to King Gorm the Red. PART THIRD The king was drinking in his hall, The day was growing dim, When, ere the autumn night did fall, This word was brought to him. 59 SONGS OF NEW-SWEDEN The ships had come; no longer he A fitting mate should lack; Bold Eric, with his galleys three, Had brought the maiden back. Like snow was Signe s forehead fair, Her eyes like sapphires bright, And fays had spun her golden hair Out of the fine sunlight. If but the king this maid would place Before his royal eyes, He d own such loveliness would grace Valhalla s companies. Then loudly laughed King Gorm the Red; For many a night and day; Not thus had wagged his grizzled head, Nor been his mood so gay. "Go bid my bride be fitly dressed; And bid her wear the ring Of that dark princess I did wrest From Sicily s proud king; 60 SONGS OF NEW-SWEDEN "Ay, bid her choose whatever silk Is fairest to her taste; And rubies red, and pearls of milk, Which now their beauty waste; For if right well she pleases me, And well she will, I ween, Ere sinks to-morrow in the sea This girl shall be my queen." He swore, with wagging head, an oath; By Odin great he swore; And one and all, to laugh not loath, Joined in the merry roar. The sun of morning- tide had run Full half-way up the sky When, fairer than that morning sun, Rose Signe with a sigh. She chose a silk of blue to grace Her young and slender form, And in her golden locks did place The jewels of King Gorm. 61 SONGS OF NEW-SWEDEN A monarch great was he who brought Such treasures o er the sea; "But rather would I live unsought, Than be his bride," said she. Now with the brooch that suits her best, And in her silk of blue, Her gentle body she hath dressed, Though sad her spirit true. And to the king s house she doth go, Where, in his banquet-hall, Already walks Gorm to and fro, And for his bride doth call. Admiringly the vikings stare, Opens the scald his eyes; So beauteous she the very air Seems smitten with surprise. Right down before the monarch s feet Her loveliness she throws; Ah, surely, such a suppliant sweet Friends round her finds, not foes! 62 SONGS OF NEW-SWEDEN <( O king," she cries, "O royal Gorm, Who rulest all this land, Fairer than mine should be the form Of maid who seeks thy hand. "Free then, I pray, this peasant life, Decked now in raiment gay; One nobler take thou for thy wife, And bid me go my way!" The king in mute surprise did stare, While, moveless, on the floor Yet Signe knelt; a sight so fair Gorm ne er had seen before. He spoke at last. "What, dost thou fear The king, my pretty one? Fear not, but listen. Far and near, In climes of snow and sun "I ve roamed, an eagle strong and fleet; But ne er beheld my eyes, In any land, a maid so meet To be my queen. Arise!" 63 SONGS OF NEW-SWEDEN He stooped above her golden head, He took her hand so white; Her face was like that of one dead, It was a piteous sight. ( O king," she said, "my lips are cold, I cannot marry thee; There is another who doth hold The heart thou seek st from me." Watching the scene with troubled eye, Not far off, Eric stood; A sudden joy, he scarce knew why, Thrilled, at these words, his blood. Then dropped King Gorm his manner bland, And Signe s gentle cheek, Though lightly, struck with angry hand, She standing wan and weak. Like frightened deer, that scents the chase, But knows not where to fly, Then, suddenly, with wild eyes, a place Of refuge doth descry. 64 SONGS OF NEW-SWEDEN The maiden gazed upon the throng Of strange and bearded men Until, a friend her foes among, The archer she did ken. Toward him whose face she knew so well Straight flew this quarry sweet; Then, with a cry distressful, fell, Unconscious, at his feet. "Ho, ho," the monarch, scowling, cried, 1 All now, methinks, I know; To steal his king s intended bride My bowman was not slow ! Spoke out the archer Eric then: "O king, wrong is thy thought; This maiden, with my ships and men, From Lapland s shore I brought; But never uttered I one word, Nor, knowingly, made sign, \Vhich could with love for me have stirred Her heart, that should be thine." 65 SONGS OF NEW-SWEDEN "Thou liest," roared the enkindled Gorni, His face convulsed with rage; Round them the berserkers did swarm, And saga- tellers sage: "Thou liest, and if thou hadst not blood Of Odin in thy veins, This night a wheeling raven s food Thou shouldst be for thy pains. "Howbeit, since one of my kith Thou art, if not my kin, And I a warrior bargain with, This maiden thou may st win. "Right oft have I thy merry jest At other bowmen heard; Thy boast that thou, of all the best, Couldst wing the flying bird, "And (so unerring that dart s flight Which thou on string dost lay) Couldst pierce with ease an apple bright, Paces three- score away. 66 SONGS OF NEW-SWEDEN "Seek, therefore, cunning for thy hand, And teach thy heart to dare, For on the morrow thon shalt stand Before this maiden fair "And, ere her beanty thou dost wed, An apple ronnd and gay Shalt shoot from off her golden head, Paces three-score away." PART FOURTH. Bright rose the morning O er Norway s mountains, Hamlets and blue fiords, And on Gorm s dwelling Fell the sun s lances. Outside the great-hall Touched they the helmets Of captains and warriors, Standing accoutered, Waiting in silence For the king s order. Gay the men s mantles, Blue like the ocean; 67 SONGS OF NEW-SWEDEN But, like the inoor-land In dreary mid- winter, Sad were their faces. Soon from his prison Were they to lead forth Eric the Archer; Him whom they all loved , Him who in battle Oft-times had led them. When in mid -welkin The sun shone at noontide, Then would the monarch s Word be accomplished, Mandate most cruel. Then with his long-bow, Yew tipped with silver, Won from the Briton, Eric the Archer At a red apple Placed on the golden Tresses of Signe Daringly would shoot. May mighty Odin Guide the swift arrow! 68 SONGS OF NEW-SWEDEN Pale from his prison Came forth the archer, But in his bosom Stoutly his heart beat, And in his glances Glittered a purpose. Only when saw he Signe the maiden Standing so calmly Under the linden, Clad in the gray gown As he first met her, Over his blue eyes (Dim for a moment) Passed he his fingers, And unto Odin, Blessed All-Father, Rose a prayer fervent. Then on her bright head Placed he an apple, And her eyes covered, Lest she should tremble 69 SONGS OF NEW-SWEDEN When from his longbow Flew the swift arrow. No word of passion, No word of parting, Spoke he unto her; No kiss between them Passed for a token; But without language (So tis with lovers) Held they last converse; And without kisses Each knew the other. On a black stallion, Splendid with trappings, Sat the Red Monarch. Stern was his visage, Cruel his gray eye, As on the people Gazed he at noontide; Noting fair Signe Under the linden, And, in his red cloak, Eric the Archer, 70 SONGS OF NEW-SWEDEN Who from his quiver Drew forth two arrows. Silent the people, Silent the soldiers. Scarce breathed the women. Deftly the archer One of the arrows Stuck in his girdle, Fitting the other Into his long-bow; Then, with aim steady, Shot toward the maiden. Cleft was the apple. Down on the green sward Tumbled the bright halves. But like an aspen Trembled the maiden. She who so calmly Waited the arrow, Standing like statue Carved out of marble, Motionless, silent; 71 SONGS OF NEW-SWEDEN Now felt her bosom Rising and falling, Heaving like ocean, Heard her heart beating Hard as a hammer, And o er her blue eyes Pressed her slim fingers, Shivering and weeping. Shouted the people, Wept all the women, Swore every gray-beard Ne er was such shooting, Laughed the grim vikings With pride and with pleasure, Better than Eric Never lived bowman. Only the old king Crimsoned with anger, Wherefore that arrow Stuck in thy girdle? One would have done thee." Answered the archer: "King, for thy bosom 72 SONGS OF NEW-SWEDEN That was intended, Had my hand failed me." Then to the cruel Eyes of the other Hate flew and fury; Demons of Nastrond Glared from those windows; And, as if stricken By the fierce lightning Of his own passion, Down from his saddle, Dead on the greensward, Rolled the Red Monarch. Few there were loved him; Tyrant imperious He in his winter; Stern, unrelenting. But he a viking Wonderful had been; And like a viking s His mausoleum. 73 SONGS OF NEW-SWEDEN On a high mountain, Covered with forests, Save where it lifted, Clear of all mantle, Sternly its bare head Which like a war-god Sat by the ocean , Stars on his forehead, Pines in his right hand, Dreaming of battle Here, on the summit, Laid they the monarch. Then, in the temple Holy of Balder; One day were wedded Eric the Archer, Signe the maiden. Merry with music The bridal procession; Mighty the banquet When in the great-hall Eric held wassail. Heir to the throne he, 74 SONGS OF NEW-SWEDEN Royal his race was, Offspring of Odin. High in the king s seat Drank he the brown ale; Round him his warriors Jovially teasted; And close beside him, Fair as a lily In a wild forest, Or as a bright star Shining mid storm-clouds, Sat his Queen, Signe. FINALE. The clock in Upland s inn struck one; The burgher s old-world tale was done; He ceased; and for a moment s space, None speaking, silence filled the place; Broken only by the sound of rain And wind in tree and on the pane; Then, and its warmth the tempest drowned, The applause of hand and voice went round. But in the narrator s bearded face, Fired by this saga of his race, 75 SONGS OF NEW-SWEDEN Lingered a look, as though, in dreams, Still he rehearsed Odinic themes, And, from this peaceful Upland far, Wandered within that past of war. And, truly, like a viking old, Skillful in storm, in battle bold, He seemed: one born on this late stage, But made for that heroic age, When Harold scoured the Hebrides, And Rolf the Ganger sailed the seas. VII. THE FALL OF FORT CHRISTINA The capture of Fort Christina, by the Dutch under Stuyvesant, September 25, 1655, ended the Swedish dominion on the Delaware; but the bulk of the popu lation, including the principal land-owners, were still Swedes; and down to the coming of William Penn there was little change in the general aspect of the colony. After the advent of the English, however, the Swedish tongue gradually fell into disuse, though the old customs and manners of dressing lingered for 76 SONGS OF NEW-SWEDEN many years along the river. Down to the close of the Revolution, a period of almost a century and a half from the founding of the colony, ministers were reg ularly sent from Sweden, at the expense of the crown, to supply the spiritual w r ants of the churches in Pennsylvania, Delaware and New Jersey. The last of these clergymen was Nicholas Collin, who arrived in the colony in 1770, and who, for a period of 45 years, presided over the church of Gloria Dei, at Wic- caco, Philadelphia. It was not until his death, in the year 1831, that the Swedish mission can really be said to have ceased. PART FIRST. 1. When Sweden sent bold Minuit out, With soldiers brave, and farmers stout, To plant, prepared for peace or war, A colony on new- world shore, His ships into this river burst, Upon this shore he landed first, And, built of logs of hemlock wood, Here was it his gallant fortress stood. 77 SONGS OF NEW-SWEDEN 2. Christina, fort and woodland green He named, in honor of his queen; 1 Christina, too, he named the stream Which wandered by, with purl and gleam, Till in the brown flood of the river Its gentler waves were lost forever. Here many a year that banner hung Beneath whose folds the scald once sung; Here, with his blue eyes filled with dreams Of what wise science folly deems, At night the Swedish soldier saw In heaven fair Freya s distaff shine, And, like a flame, great Odin draw Across the north his beard divine. 3. But came a time when wrath did stir The bosom of the Hollander, And, like a toper from his dram, Awoke to arms New- Amsterdam. 1 Queen Christina of Sweden, the daughter of Gustavus Adolphus. The stream is now called Christiana, a name which, to the writer, seems not so good as the original title, being entirely without historical significance. 78 SONGS OF NEW-SWEDEN Between its burghers red and stout, And the fair Swede of Tinicum, Had rattled many a warlike drum, Precursor of the coming bout. But while from Scandinavian air, Still echoed, like a trumpet s blare, The sound of Lutzen round the world, And Sweden sat with flag unfurled, And o er these far domains yet shone The glory of Gustavus throne, The captains of New-Netherlands, Drank down their ale with bloodless hands, Nor sought to try their valiant flints Against the haughty sword of Printz. Dimmed now, however, was the fame Which gallant Sweden then had won; Less potent, with each passing sun, The prestige of the Scandian name. No more to godly strife marched forth The bearded conquerors of the north, But Stockholm s palaces of state Re-echoed oft with revels late. Gone was the great Gustavus now, And on Christina s wayward brow 79 SONGS OF NEW-SWEDEN (Though child she was of genius true) Irksome the cares of empire grew, Till came a time when (none too soon, For wreckage had her path bestrewn) Lightly the daughter cast aside The crown for which her father died. And now who knows what will betide? So in the brain of Stuyvesant, The gallant governor of Manhattan, Was borne a wondrous scheme to plant Proud Holland s flag where now did fatten, On many a rolling river-mead, The sheep and cattle of the Swede; And when, his spirit to inflame, News of another insult came, Of sons of Holland forced to bow Before the haughty Northmen low, He swore, by many a warlike sire, Vengeance immediate and dire. 4. A chief as terrible was he As ever led by land or sea. Blue was the lordly coat he wore, 80 SONGS OF NEW-SWEDEN And bright with buttons down before, And by his trousers, gay and wide, Dangled a sword of temper tried. In battles fierce and memorable Well had he fought, so ran the fable, And many an insolent head laid low When governor of Curacao. There was it, by the tropic seas, In combat with the Portuguese, That he had lost the valourous leg, Replaced, now, by a silver peg. 5. Extensive was the preparation: Unprecedented the sensation: From morn till night, In raiment bright, Strutted the warriors of the nation. Keen were the weapons which they twirled; Fierce were the oaths they from them hurled; Never before, this side the world, Was mightier host, nor huger ration. At last, with twice four hundred men, And seven staunch ships, a gallant sight, 81 SONGS OF NEW-SWEDEN Beyond the wondering city s ken Sailed Stuyvesant unto the fight. PART SECOND. 1. Over New-Sweden s gentle land, Its fertile fields, its river strand, Where dwelt, in many a peaceful home, The children of the Baltic s foam, Whose fathers to these self-same shores, With gleaming prow and brawny oars, Old legends tell us once did roam; Over this land of loveliness, This land which summer now did bless With waters sweet, and fragrant air, And all things bounteous and fair; Ruled Rising, the new governor, With men-at-arms perhaps three- score. 2. From Fort Christina s ramparts old Floated his flag with aspect bold; Listlessly, in the summer s heat, Bach stalwart sentry paced his beat; 82 SONGS OF NEW-SWEDEN Silent for many a year had been Those cannon glowering o er the scene. Only when up the river came Some trading Dutchman, full of wine, How fiercely, threatening awful flame, Frowned each and all along the line. 1 Naught dreamed the jovial chief of ill As, on this afternoon so still, His glass with Malmsey he did fill. 3. Like meteor unforeseen and dire, Hurled by a superhuman ire, Came Stuyvesant upon the land; Ere once his cannoneers did shoot, Fort Casimer, with richest loot, Fell low before his mighty hand; Then, while his hosts with triumph burned, He on Christina swiftly turned. 4. From fugitives, who bore the word, Brave Rising had the tidings heard; 1 All ships ascending the river were obliged to lie to, and secure a. permit from the Governor, before they were allowed to proceed. 83 SONGS OF NEW-SWEDEN And strove his men, by day and night, To fit the fortress for the fight. Few were they at the drum s stern call, A round or two had they in all, And when the frowning battery old Once had pronounced its challenge bold, Silent each gun must stand and cold; But when fair Sweden called to arms, Welcome were toil and war s alarms. 5. With trumpets playing loud and fierce, And glittering steel, the Swede to pierce, And deafening drums, and gaudy flags, And booty rich, which somewhat lags; With war-ships gay and terrible, Whose guns the strongest forte could fell, Whose sailors, veterans of the seas, The highest wall could scale with ease; Taking all things their hands could touch To Fort Christina came the Dutch. 6. Loudly they laughed, Deeply they quaffed, 84 SONGS OF NEW-SWEDEN Fiercely was clutched each weapon s haft, As, through the sweet September air, When eve had hushed their trumpets blare, They saw the banner of the Swede, Waving above the river reed. But more than empty scoff and rant Intended Peter Stuyvesant; And, with the morning drum, was sent A message from his lordly tent; The salutations of the sender, And summons to a swift surrender. 7. Arrayed in coat so blue and bright, And trousers red, a gallant sight, And bearing high an ensign white, Went forth the messenger of truce; Scarce could the summons have been heard, Scarce time was there to bring the word, When back he came, like a game-bird Strutting, whose warlike ire is loose. 8. When he the governor addressed, Bold Rising knew not what he meant; 85 SONGS OF NEW-SWEDEN And when he further spoke, expressed Amazement at the fell intent. Peace ruled on the South River s shore; Wherefore did Holland threaten war? But still, as to capitulation, Twas not the habit of the nation. Wondered the chief that he a Swede Should ask to do so weak a deed; Without the firing of a gun, Before the passing of a sun. No; to the head from whom he came, A captain not unknown to fame, He must return; and here should wave, Forevermore proud Sweden s banner. Thus spoke, with scorn, the governor brave; Curt was his word, and curt his manner. 9. Then rose the hosts of Stuyvesant, And batteries on the hills did plant; And round Christina, through the night, Blazed the invaders camp-fires bright. Fat were the swine they stole, I wis; Fair were the maids they sought to kiss; 86 SONGS OF NEW-SWEDEN A land so bountiful as this Not often lay before their sight, Not often fell before their might. PART THIRD. 1. vSilent, beside a silent gun, John Rising stood, the governor. Food for his soldiers there was none, Gone was his powder long before. Hard fate. It was the fourteenth day Since, all accoutred for the fray, The hosts of Netherland had burst Upon this valley, never cursed Before by war and warrior s wit Since Sweden s flag had sheltered it. It was that day when, dark with shame, To Sweden s shore should fly his name. 2. Uprose his eyes unto the spot Where, like a beauteous sunset cloud, The banner of his country shone. To-morrow s dawn would see it not. 87 SONGS OF NEW-SWEDEN Upon his breast his head was bowed. He heard the Holland trumpet blown. 3. With arms and kit, As did befit Men who in glory s book had writ Their names on Lutzen s field of blood, His soldiers marched out of the fort, And home to Gottenburg s far port Were sent, across the ocean s flood. 4. Then all the fair South River lands Lay low beneath the invader s hands, And proud the flag of Holland flew Above sad hearts to Sweden true. But years of triumph were there few. For England, conquering land and sea, Soon brought the Dutchman to his knee, And to great Penn s benignant hand Was given this bright and goodly land. 88 SONGS OP NEW-SWEDEN VIII. BLACKBEARD. The exploits of the pirate Blackbeard, in the early part of the eighteenth century, form a narrative almost as thrilling as those of his fellow-corsair Kidd. His real name was Edward Teach, and he was a native of Bristol, England; but he was commonly known, on account of his long black beard (which he used to cherish by tying it up with ribbons), by the title of Blackbeard. He was as renowned in love as in war, and is said to have had, at one time, as many as fourteen wives, scattered about in his various rendez vous. He haunted the coast of the colonies from New Jersey to Florida, and the Islands of the West Indies were among his favorite resorts. He also fre quented the Delaware River and Bay, along the shores of which he was thought to have buried immense quantities of treasure; and at one time he is said to have contemplated an attack on Philadelphia. Many of his revels took place in the house of an old Swedish woman at Marcus Hook. He was killed in a conflict off the coast of Virginia in the year 1717. 89 SONGS OF NEW-SWEDEN PART FIRST. Down the Delaware, some miles From the salt air of the Bay, Where the mighty stream still whiles Slumberingly along his way, vStands the little town which took Somehow the name of Marcns Hook. Founded by the blue-eyed Swede Was it in the days of old, When o er forest, flood and mead Ruled John Printz, the governor bold, And the music of the drum Echoed over Tinicum. Empty is the village street On this wild September night, All deserted by men s feet, Though the winds are in their might, When, in groups of three or four, Come some figures up the shore. From the misty river-places, Where the fish-hawk has his home, 90 SONGS OF NEW-SWEDEN With their cloaks about their faces, Like conspirators they come, Striding through the rainy night Toward the tavern s glimmering light. How the equinoctial blows! Down about the salty capes, Where the wrecker s beacon glows, Early morning shipwrecked shapes Shall discover, cold and wan, Thinks Dame Rambo of "The Swan." Daughter of a Norseman she, Who with Minuit sought this shore, Wandering over land and sea, As his sires had done of yore, And by Delaware s brown flood Learned to calm his viking blood. Little cares she for the gale, Slam of shutter, dash of rain, Drawing for her patrons ale Thor himself would not disdain, Such as once, mid song and story, Foamed o er Thule s hills in glory. 91 SONGS OF NEW-SWEDEN Later points the ancient clock, Standing grimly by the wall; "Ten" its wizard bells now knock In their tower so dark and tall; Few the guests that still remain, When a sound comes from the rain: Steps and voices those of men- Shaking out of storm-drenched cloaks On the tavern porch and then In the door, with beard which smokes From the wet, tempestuous night, Walks a figure to the light. Tall and most fantastic dressed Round his shoulders drawn a cape- Scarlet had it been at best, Now, about his lusty shape, Like a sea-waif, breaker flung, Faded by the wave it hung. Tied in knots with ribbons gay Was the sable beard he wore; Bright he smiled (so gleams the day Through dark clouds when tempests roar) 92 SONGS OF NEW-SWEDEN Bowed and from his low-bent head Took a cap bizarre: then said: " Madam, to your goodly cheer Could I bring- my comrades in? Wild the night outside and drear. From the storm s on-coming din Took we refuge in the bay. Sailors are we, frank and gay." From the tables where they sat, Hard the village gossips stared; In their hands the ale grew flat, But no word nor sign they dared As Dame Rambo to the tall Guest replied: u Be welcome all!" Then, in costumes bright and strange, With a foreign air about them, As though, in their merry range, Few the seas had been without them, Came these mariners, no man Knew from whence, into "The Swan." 93 SONGS OF NEW-SWEDEN PART SECOND. How they drank the bitter ale! How their bonny beards did wag! Like the berserks, bold and hale, Who beneath some forebear s flag Once held Yule-tide revelries, Seemed they to Dame Rambo s eyes. Midnight struck the old Norse clock; Louder rang the jovial laugh; More than any of his wild flock Did the gay first-comer quaff; Sitting near the fire-place wide, With a beaker by his side. Red the flames shone on his face; Lit a belted dagger s hilt; "Madam," quoth he, "by your grace I a sailor s song will lilt." Then, with pantomime which ran With his singing, he began. 94 SONGS OF NEW-SWEDEN SONG. 1. "Down in the sea-sands, Where the gull screams, Buried by my hands, Bright treasure gleams. O er it a pale ghost Hovers for ever; Him from his mammon Death cannot sever; Where his gold glittered Aye was his soul; Therefore I killed him To guard it from mole- Killed him to guard it From man and from mole. 2. < < I a gallant am For whom doves wrangle; In my beard s meshes Sweet hearts I tangle. Far in Barbados, Where grows the cane, 95 SONGS OF NEW-SWEDEN Seven lovely lady-birds Deck I with gain. Five in the Carolines, Three here I kiss; Wedded with priest-book Each one, I wis Wedded with candles And priest-book, I wis. 3. "I am the pirate, Blackbeard, the rover. Under my red nag I skim the seas over. Keen is my cutlass, Cold as my heart When against foemen Bear I my part. But when from fair hands Bubbles the cheer, Who more benign Than the bold buccaneer? Gay and benign Than the bold buccaneer? 1 96 SONGS OF NEW-SWEDEN Silent for a moment s space Was the tavern when he ceased, Save that still, outside the place, Roared the tempest from the east, Then a bacchanalian sound Went the rovers plaudits round. Pale the villagers with fright. This the Blackbeard and his crew, Of whose deeds the pitchy night Was the only emblem true? This the pirate who along All the coast had stamped his wrong? But in old dame Rambo s eyes Calmly shone their wonted light; Terror weak she did despise; Courage was her race s right; Something even did she ken Which she loved in these wild men. And when from his fire-lit seat While the others round him stand- Rose the captain to his feet, With a beaker in his hand, 97 SONGS OF NEW-SWEDEN Smiled she, as each sea-dog hale Drank her health in nut-brown ale. Then, while every gossip wondered, From beneath his scarlet cape Blackbeard drew a bag, and sundered All its tightly- twisted tape. Lo, what gold and silver bright Lay before Dame Rambo s sight! " Madam, ere once more we fly O er the deep, take this souvenir; Never, under any sky Have we tasted better cheer I and my bold corsair band." Thus he spoke, with cap in hand. Low he bowed, as when he entered: "Now, my merry men, away!" On them were all gazes centered Till were gone their figures gay; And "The Swan s" lamps dimly shone On the villagers alone. 98 SONGS OF NEW-SWEDEN IX THE DREAM OF ISAAC THE QUAKER While Isaac and His wife were under exercise and concern of mind about so weighty an undertaking (removing to America), and desirous that best wis dom should direct, Isaac had a dream or vision to this import: That having landed with his family in America, he traveled a considerable distance back into the country until he came to a valley, through which ran a pretty stream of water. The prospect and situation of the place seemed pleasant a hill ris ing on the north and a fine spring issuing near its foot; and in his dream he thought that there he and his family must settle, though then a wilderness and unimproved. Records of Friends Meeting, London- grove, Chester Co., Pennsylvania. O spirit of that Quaker sire of mine, To whom God gave these lovely Chester lands, These fertile fields, where golden harvests shine, These meadows green, where the herd, grazing, stands, 99 SONGS OF NEW-SWEDEN Be with me now, and stretch thy blessing hands Above me, that I may have grace to tell That story which thy children love so well! Born of a martyr race whose suffering veins Had poured their life out under Mary s rule, Within his soul that trust which never wanes, That zeal which persecution cannot cool, Isaac loved God, and through the bitter school Of harsh intolerance held the Father s hand, And heard the music of the better land. And on one night in summer, when the moon Made all the landscape like a phantasm seem, And earth lay hushed, as though an angel soon Would step from Heaven, like those in Jacob s dream, There came to Isaac, down a mystic beam Of moonlight, or in some diviner way, A vision beautiful as Eden s day. Appeared a peaceful vale, (through which a stream, Meandering flowed, sparkling beneath heaven s light;) 100 SONGS OF NEW-SWEDEN Sheltered upon the north, so seemed his dream, Ity a green hill, some future homestead s site; Thence issued, from a spring, the streamlet bright. And even as Isaac gazed a voice he heard Like that which once to Moses spoke the Word. "Arise, there is a home beyond the seas, Which thou hast seen this night, for thee and thine; There, through the depths of the primeval trees, My sun shall light thee, and iny moon shall shine; Still shalt thou, of my omnipresence sign, Behold the stars of midnight blazon me; Fear not, but know that ever I am with thee." When Isaac woke he saw above the lea, Descending in the occidental sky, Morning s pale moon; and heard the psalmody Of the early birds, in joyous choirs on high; And in his soul he knew that God was nigh; And knelt; and round him, in that hour divine, He felt the glory of Jehovah shine. 101 SONGS OF NEW-SWEDEN Then toward that spot, forever, seemed to point The hand of God where Penn s sweet wisdom ruled; That spot which L,ove and Freedom did anoint As refuge for all men, however schooled; Where from the fires of scorn the Quaker cooled His mystic brows; and in whose peace, anew, Dwelt seer and scholar, infidel and Jew. So Isaac, reverent, rose; and, with his home, Beloved wife and children, round him still, Crossed, as had others, those wild fields of foam, Those wind-swept waters, where the sea-bird shrill Chanted to ears which loved the sky-lark s trill. At last, one summer evening, lo, the Capes! The smell of land! The visions fancy shapes! Came next the broad- spread river, and the shores Of oak and hemlock, and the red-brick town; And boats of landing, on whose dripping oars The sunshine turned to gold the waters brown. But in his soul a voice he could not drown Spoke unto Isaac ever: "Not yet, not yet; On, till thine eyes the promised spot have met!" 102 SONGS OF NEW-SWEDEN Then through the depths of the primeval trees, As God had bidden him, the Quaker went; From unknown lands he felt the western breeze Blow fresh and fragrant, as by kind Heaven sent To lead him onward; and when evening blent The glories of the sunset for her crown, Through silent woods the thrush s song came down. Few homes where here, but hospitable hands Recalled, in each, the England of his sires; And on the third night came he to some lands Whose aspect woke within him prescient fires; And when, above the forest s mighty spires, Uprose the morning sun, he saw the stream, The spring, the hill, the valley of his dream! Then on the soul of Isaac fell a light As from the everlasting throne of God; And, to the world external blinded quite, He knelt, in silent prayer, upon the sod. Lifted, henceforth, was persecution s rod; While ample harvests bounteous nature bore. Still from these hills his children Heaven adore! 103 SONGS OF NEW-SWEDEN X KELPIUS S HYMN John Kelpius, the well-known hermit and mystic of the Wissahickon, was a believer in the near approach of the Millennium; and, according to Watson, once told Alexander Mack, the Tunker preacher, of Ger- mantown, that he expected to live to see it. In a letter to a friend he speaks of observing carefully all celestial phenomena, such as "meteors, stars, and va rious colors of the sky; if, per ad venture, you may be hold at last an harbinger." 1. O God, thy moon is on the hills, Thy stars are in the sky, Thy Spirit this mortal vessel fills, I feel the end is nigh; Swift meteors flame across the north, The golden planets wheel and sink, Soon steps thy trumpet-angel forth From Heaven s eternal brink; Then peace illumes these warlike ways, Christ s joyful chiliad has its birth, 104 SONGS OF NEW-SWEDEN A round of Eden s perfect days, Thy kingdom conies upon the earth! 2. My eyes are dim, my hands are weak, My soul is scarred with sin, But day and night thy Word I seek, That I a crown may win; Cleanse thou and make my spirit pure As are the spirits of thy saints, Like them in bliss would I endure, When earthly body faints; Far up on Heaven s resplendent height I hear the circling cherubs sing, As downward to this world of night The New- Jerusalem they bring! XI. INDIAN ROCK: WISSAHICKON. 1. Far from the troubled city s sights and sounds, I lay upon a rock in dreamful mood; Where voice of man the silence seldom wounds, And flows the Wissahickon s winding flood. 105 SOXGS OF NEW-SWEDEN Round me the green-leafed forest seemed to brood. And on the rock, facing the golden west, The figure of an Indian, carved of wood, With bow in hand, and like a warrior drest, Stood, gazing o er the vales lying beneath at rest. 2. The sunset streamed upon him: round the rock The warm light lay, and lit the gap, and shot Long lances in the wood on bush and stock. He stood as in the days which now are not, Of mighty hunts, and tourneys long and hot, And seeming almost human in the glow, Aye, superhuman, in that heaven his lot Of fierce, accoutred ghosts who, to and fro, Chase ever over mystic hills the antlered foe. 3. A legend of a time of dwindling tribes, And dying camp-fires up and down the land, And loss of all the savage mind imbibes As dearest, and the flight of many a band Toward prairie vast, or distant desert s sand; Of spiritless hunts by broken-hearted men 106 SONGS OF NEW-SWEDEN W T ho, hunting, stopped and pressed with sullen hand The branches back, and saw the stranger s den, Then quickly sought their native wilderness again. 4. Here, through the early twilight of the wood, Followed by braves who loved the green oak tree, And, after intervals, by more, who stood About the place, all waiting silently, Came he, the king, who felt the breezes free Blow from the sunset o er lands once for him, Proud chieftain of the L,enni-Lenape, And went up on the rock, from spaces dim, Into a place sun-lit, nor masked by bush nor limb. 5. The forest of his fathers slumbered round him, And far below the waters met his gaze Of Wissahickon, that sweet stream which bound him Unto her like her child: down the steep maze Looking, through branches of the oak, and sprays Of ancient hemlock, tipped with summer green, He saw the river of his boyhood days: Gently he saw her flow and then, unseen Awhile, run out, and far away, long hills between. 107 SONGS OF NEW-SWEDEN 6. The dying sun burned on his swarthy face, Then sank and left him, standing stern and still, Like that red figure which, in this lone place, Now broods and watches, set by some kind skill. Behind, in groups upon the wooded hill, With war-paint painted, and for battle drest, His braves, long-limbed; and there the women fill A verdant niche, and with the children rest - Last remnant of the tribe to seek the boundless West. 7. The chieftain turned, the vales looked up and saw His figure moving from them mournfully. A new moon glittered on his hatchet s claw, Then kissed the crag where ne er again stands he. They rose, his band of Lenni-Lenape, They followed him, they crossed the woods by night, In single, silent file like ghosts that flee; They disappeared for ever from the sight Of these fair hills and vales and streams, so long their right. 108 EPILOGUE The sunset burns upon the river, Its glories fade and die, But up the paths of night come ever The children of the sky. So, when the light of olden days Sinks from before men s eyes, Fair visions, up the spirit s ways, Like stars of Heaven, arise. O vernal land! O river strand, Beside whose waving reed, Three hundred years ago, did stand The cottage of the Swede! Would that these lips, alas, so dumb, Could sing your minstrelsy As, from the distant past, doth come Its music unto me! 109 SONGS OF NEW-SWEDEN Page Dedication 7 Prologue 9 I. The Coming of Print/. ........ 1 1 II. Printz s Hall 14 III. The Settlement 16 IV. The Lady Armagot 21 V. Brita 28 VI. Eric the Archer 47 VII. The Fall of Fort Christina 76 VIII. Blackbeard 89 IX. The Dream of Isaac the Quaker .... 99 X. Kelpius s Hymn -4 XI. Indian Rock: Wissahickon 105 Epilogue I0 9 1111 111 Illl Ill II HIM Hill IIMI in ii in 11 " A 000 752 680 9