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

Part XVIII - published in the Windsor Ledger Oct 19, 1899

It will never be forgotten,
Till the Earth's last day has come,
What a fearful season followed,
When in Winter's deepest gloom,
A cry arose that reached the stars
And thrilled over all the land
Of the slaughtered, helpless people,
And of some fresh, furious band
Still bent on wiping out in blood
All traces of where white men had stood.

Helpless mothers with their broods,
Found no mercy in their eyes,
And the frenzied savages
Joyful grew to hear their cries,
Over many a plain and river
Flew the messengers of death,
And the butchery continued,
Scarely taking time for breath,
Until all south of Albemarle
Was wrapt in death and ruin's pall.

Our fathers stood astounded,
Half-way ruined and appalled,
How should they meet their foemen,
From whence could help be called;
And too, the mighty Iroquois
Might upon them also come;
Surely never darker shadows
Brought on men profounder gloom;
But Thomas Blount down in Bertie,
Stood as true as true could be.

The broad expanse of the Sound
Guarded well their southern line,
And along the Roanoke
No ingress the foe could find;
King Blount with his hundred braves,
Supplemented comrades white,
And they slew each straggling band
Found therein by day or night,
Until a wall of fire no more
Had safety brought to Bertie's shores.

We all know the story well,
Of old King Blount's future days,
How our people honored him,
Filled his life with gifts and praise;
But they largely over-looked it,
Over looked how much his friend,
By his noble life of kindness
Made possible such an end;
When faith well-kept between the two
Became a shield for all the crew.

I do not know mon ami,
If you ever heard the name
Of old King David Braswell,
Who attained no little fame
By reason of his cognomen,
Likewise his huge proportions,
And in addition to these,
He had such ways and notions,
That the whole region round him bent
Unto his will as on he went.

A rare and ready talker,
Was King Davy in his day,
Whatever round him happened
He was sure to have his say,
And to say it with an unction,
That left ne'er a doubt behind,
As to how the subject matter
Might appear unto his mind,
And if perchance it stirred his bile,
All knew that fact within the mile.

For his voice was in keeping
With his tall, gigantic frame,
It was also wonderful
How in using of the same,
He could make it serve his purpose
To attract or to repell,
Rarely failed he to accomplish,
Every purpose kind or fell;
In fact Sir Giles Over-reach
Was not to him half a match.

He had a temper too, Sir,
That was swift to show its might,
Woe to the adversary
Who in daring to do right
Incurred King Davy's hatred,
For it lasted many a day
As he gave unto his enmity,
An unbounded scope and play;
And thus he made both foes and friends
Subserve his purposes and ends.

His huge proportions made him
A thing of dread to many;
But there was a black-eyed maid,
Who did not care a penny
For all his loud and bitter words,
Nor for all his wrathful allies
She had a way of laughing down
His mountains into valleys
And making things that he held great
As undeserving of debate.

And thus this huge autocrat
Who had ruled the neighborhood,
Soon before this laughing minx,
In dumb subjection stood;
The wonder grew each passing day,
What might be the magic spell,
That thus upon his majesty,
So mysteriously fell,
And greater still it grew when he
Was known her suitor sure to be.

Long and racy was the tale,
Told of how the giant wooed
This mischievous vixen fair,
How she worried and subdued,
One whom all the folk beside her
Held in terror and in awe
Who has thus become so altered
As to take from her the law,
As to all he should be doing
While this maid he was pursuing.

After much tribulation,
His royal highness had his way,
Even with this perverse beauty,
And upon their wedding day,
Made feast and welcome unto all,
Known to him both far and near,
And the fame of his espousals
Lingered on from year to year;
For long and merry was the season,
Joyous almost beyond all reason.

For almost a full year,
Big King David held in check
The fierey ebulitions
Which his former peace did wreck,
The huge bride-groom waited on her,
On his wife with love and trust,
Even she became astonished
That he never raised a fuss,
And hoped the day would never come
To change their present halidom.

But sweet love with all its strength
Cannot restrain forever
The mighty throes of such a man,
Spite of his strong endeavor,
And though he was loving, kind and true,
At last it so befell him,
That he felt a foe had wronged him
And he must meet and quell him,
Such a duty he must tackle,
However women folk might cackle.

It appears King Davy's sheep
Had been worried by the dogs,
Of an ancient enemy
Down in Cutta Wiska bogs,
And so far from making amends,
He insulting message sent
To his dethroned majesty
And unto such measures went
Because he thought David would bow
To almost any wronging now.

Robin Rix was sore mistaken,
The old ruler who of yore
All opposition round him,
So the earth so quickly bore
So his vengeance on his neighbor,
Was accomplished full and fast,
He was once again himself
And the glamour from him passed;
And from that time King Davy's way
Was intact  to his dying day.

First he got  legal damage
For the work of Rix's dogs,
And one day when Rob was hauling
On the high way load of logs,
King Davy met him suddenly
And he then and there repaid
Any small amount still due him,
On account of canine raid;
And for insolence thereafter
Rix had made a theme of laughter.

Now 'twas not customary
In those days to prosecute,
Or to go to law for vengeance,
Even by bringing civil suit;
It was held a thing uncivil,
For a grown up man to do;
This appealing to the court house,
Thereby to help a fellow through
Any quarrel his own muscle
Should decide in such a tussle.

But Robin said his beating
Was not at all in reason;
Old King Davy had not stayed
His avenging hand in season,
But had striped his opponent
On that day from head to heel;
And a chastizement like to this
Outraged Rix could but feel
Cried aloud for measures fitting
To such an agravating beating.