th Mr. Hull, "since Satan is spoken of as the
prince and power of the air."
"The profane writers of old time do make mention of such sorceries,"
said Uncle Rawson. "It is long since I have read any of then; but
Virgil and Apulius do, if I mistake not, speak of this power over the
elements."
"Do you not remember, father," said Rebecca, "some verses of Tibullus,
in which he speaketh of a certain enchantress? Some one hath rendered
them thus:--
"Her with charms drawing stars from heaven, I,
And turning the course of rivers, did espy.
She parts the earth, and ghosts from sepulchres
Draws up, and fetcheth bones away from fires,
And at her pleasure scatters clouds in the air,
And makes it snow in summer hot and fair."
Here Sir Thomas laughingly told Rebecca, that he did put more faith in
what these old writers did tell of the magic arts of the sweet-singing
sirens, and of Circe and her enchantments, and of the Illyrian maidens,
so wonderful in their beauty, who did kill with their looks such as they
were angry with.
"It was, perhaps, for some such reason," said Rebecca, "that, as Mr.
Abbott tells me; the General Court many years ago did forbid women to
live on these islands."
"Pray, how was that?" asked Sir Thomas.
"You must know," answered our host, "that in the early settlement of
the Shoals, vessels coming for fish upon this coast did here make their
harbor, bringing hither many rude sailors of different nations; and the
Court judged that it was not a fitting place for women, and so did by
law forbid their dwelling on the islands belonging to the
Massachusetts."
He then asked his wife to get the order of the Court concerning her stay
on the islands, remarking that he did bring her over from the Maine in
despite of the law. So his wife fetched it, and Uncle Rawson read it,
it being to this effect,--"That a petition having been sent to the
Court, praying that the law might be put in force in respect to John
Abbott his wife, the Court do judge it meet, if no further complaint
come against her, that she enjoy the company of her husband." Whereat
we all laughed heartily.
Next morning, the fog breaking away early, we set sail for Agamenticus,
running along the coast and off the mouth of the Piscataqua River,
passing near where my lamented Uncle Edward dwelt, whose fame as a
worthy gentleman and magistrate is still living. We had Mount
Agamenti
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