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

Part III - published in the Windsor Ledger July 6, 1899

And thus it was a village
  That had been a guiding light,
Year by year did cease to be
  The chosen home, clean and bright;
Of all the pure amenities,
  Alas for her changed estate,
St  Johns had now at last become
  Of ignoblest trade a seat, 
And for such paltry gathering
  Of people as the day might bring.

Losing thus her precedence,
The old church was left alone
  To maintain its hold upon
Men and women yet its own;
  Then as the wasting years went by
Ruin came with steady stride;
No surpliced priest was ever seen
After Parson-Gurley died;
The good man slept with all the just,
His treasures safe from moth & dust.

In the loft no organ swelled
  On the twilight ne'er a prayer,
Came as balm unto the weary,
 No sweet music thrilled the air;
Bell and tower alike had fallen,
 On lichened walls slow decay
Crept on until a shrine once fair,
  Stood a ruin gaunt and gray;
No sound was heard, no steps came near,
  God's house became a thing of fear.

Thus the village passed away,
 And a ruined hamlet stood
As sad token left behind
  Of the beautiful and good;
I dearly loved to seek its shadows,
  When I, in my sunny youth,
Rambled with my dear lost brother,
 And young uncle bossing both,
To spend the long bright summer day
  In our boyish romps and play.

Well I loved the old place then,
  With its silence and its shade;
Loved the sunny nooks close by
 Where the boys of old had played,
And the roads so broad and level,
   Along which the bugles loud
Were blown by coachmen with the mail
  When the people in a crowd
Passed North and South on this highway
   Before the railroads came our way.

When Robert Montgomery
   Gave way to General Wynn,
And when old Major Carter
   Up in Raleigh first was seen,
There were many things to cheer them
   The folks of Ahoskie Ridge;
For they had both peace and plenty,
   From Bertie to Benthall's Bridge;
And one and all for Major Carter,
   Had always tricks and jokes to barter.

This Major Isaac Carter
   Cut a figure in his day,
As justice and at musters
   He a leading part did play;
But his courtship and marriage,
   Told in humble rustic song
How he triumphed o'er his rival,
   Will be remembered long;
For he won a belle and beauty
   To win whom he thought his duty.

With lovely Winnie Mary
  At the wedding feast we're told,
He sat in state and glory;
   But a rival late so bold
Stood there weeping in a corner
   While still on the dancers sped,
And amid the flowing pleasure
   Only wished that he was dead;
The old song adds that one and all
   Remembered long that wedding ball.

Captain Cotten ever stern,
   Had a son so kind and true
That all the country round him
   Came to call him when they knew
His goodness all -- Uncle Godwin;
   Two daughters had he both so fair
That soon their names were known afar
   And toasted oft as beauties rare;
These both were wedded, but alas!
   Their hour of sorrow followed fast.
  
This Godwin won a maiden
  Who was winsome too and fair
But so youthful were the couple,
   The bride's father for a  year
Kept them waiting on his pleasure,
   That old war-worn Major Brown;
But the veteran relented;
   When that time was haply gone
The Culloden hero pressed,
   The happy Sarah to his breast.

Long ago in the "twenties"
   There was a wicked murder done,
By a bad man who already
   Shame and infamy had won;
This fellow was one Aaron Moore
   Who fit penalty paid;
But taint of blood hung on his house,
   And the ghost could not be laid;
But both his sons fled from this land
   And blood was on each guilty hand.

Twas told me of a couple
   Who were wedded near St Johns;
How the bride and groom at midnight
   Had unto their chamber gone;
For the revel all was over,
   And the crowd had gone to rest;
When there came a sound of horror
    Putting fear in every breast;
Men and maids in terror wild
   Went screaming like some frantic child.

From a not distant grave yard
Came this cause of maddened fear,
   My great-grandfather told it
After lapse of many a year;
  How all parties swarmed upon him
As he roused to learn the cause;
   But no one knew from that day on
What made them so dread a noise;
   It came as if a whirwind bore
Destruction in its fearful power.
  
The house shook to its bases,
   Doors and shutters opened wide,
And it seemed some hugh body
  Rushed against the Western side;
Showed no damage high or low;
  So the source of so much terror
Not a man could ever know,
  But lips grew pale and hearts felt chill
When they to friends the facts would tell.
  
Neighbor Bob, do you recall,
   The oak tree beside the store?
Under which in days of yore,
   Many a windy orator
Would address the gaping people,
    And where ballots oft were cast,
What a grand old tree it was then?
    The man should be an outcast
Who felled that monarch of the grove
   That long had been our pride & love.

Many scenes still dear to me, 
  I recall from far-off-youth,
Many men I loved and valued
   For their honesty and truth;
Men who cheered my sunny boyhood
   Both in spoken word and deed,
And the hour when I forget them
   Will be very late indeed:
God bless them in each humble grave
   Those men I knew so true & brave.