During the passage of the Sea Gull up the harbor, no one seemed to
enjoy the genial influences of the day more than Pompey: there was
something in the very atmosphere, he said, which gave him life and
freedom, and he blessed the good land where a man might speak his mind
without fear of a cuff or a whip. His fancy revelled in new dreams of
liberty, and his exclamations of delight were so frequent and loud,
that Walter at last sent him below. Presently, however, his head peered
above the companion-way, and on his promise of silence and decorum,
Walter permitted him again to come on deck--but it was all in vain.
Pompey was in too warm a glow to keep still, and becoming once more a
little too garrulous, Capt. Wing seized a rope, but before he had a
chance to apply it, Pompey, who saw his purpose, was up the ratlings
and on the cross-trees, where, although he had a better view of the
blessed land, his raptures soon subsided, and he was enabled to keep
silence long enough to insure his safety when he came down.
The schooner soon reached the wharf, which at that time was the great
depôt of trade and commerce. As Walter passed by the long ranges of
wooden buildings which then occupied the ground, the merry cries of
the market men, the grand display of merchandise, and the bustle of
wagons and carts, formed a scene so full of novelty and attraction,
that he lingered for an hour or more, surveying the different objects
with lively curiosity and interest. Pompey was utterly amazed. 'What
sort of world be this, Massa?' was his exclamation, as he stood at
the termination of King street, from whence, at that time, all the
business part of the town was visible. 'Mind your business, Pompey,'
said Walter, 'and follow me with the luggage; if you stare at this
rate, they will have you up for a vagabond, and with good reason.'
Walter kept on, but in a moment or two, he heard a shout of merriment
and glee, which had the effect of stopping all business within its
circle. Pompey had just met with one of his own color, and when the two
friends rushed together, it caused such an explosion of good nature,
as sent the laugh up and down the street: the idlers came out to gaze,
and a stout drayman, who saw the ludicrous attitude of the two blacks,
tripped them both into the gutter, when Pompey, covered with shame and
choked with dust and passion, rose on his feet and gave the drayman
a violent blow, which nearly felled him to the ground; he was then
seized by an officer and carried to prison on the charge of fighting
in the streets; a serious crime, and one for which the fathers of New
England had provided due punishment, which was usually inflicted in
full measure on the culprit; for the rigid justice of those days was
not often tempered by the mild pleadings of mercy.
Walter saw how the affair was going, and wishing his servant to have
the full benefit of such a lesson, did not choose to interpose, but
directing a porter to take his luggage, he saw Pompey move off to
prison, with no regret that the ridiculous farce, in which he had
acted, was likely to meet its proper rebuke. On his arrival at the
hotel he was provided with suitable lodgings, and spent the remainder
of the day in walking about town, and viewing the various objects of
interest it contained.
The morning of the next day was occupied in visiting some of the
gentlemen of the town, to whom Walter was furnished with letters.
Among these were Mr. Stoughton, Judge Sewall, Rev. Mr. Willard, and
Mr. Winthrop, the latter a distinguished practitioner at the bar. He
was welcomed with the warm hospitality of those days, and assured of
their kind offices and best efforts for his welfare. He related to
Mr. Winthrop the affair in King street, between the two Africans, who
caused an immediate examination of the case before a magistrate, which
resulted in the release of Pompey, who followed his master home. His
dream of liberty had by this time nearly vanished, and the poor negro
was deeply concerned at his disgrace.
'It was a great breach of good manners, Pompey, to make such a noise in
the street and tumble about in the gutter,' said Walter; 'I thought you
intended to act the gentleman.'
'So I did, Massa, and many is the gentleman I have seen in the gutter,
besides me.'
'Very well, he is no gentleman while there, especially if he clamors
and fights as you did. That was too vulgar even for a gentleman's
servant, and I was ashamed to have the public see you had not been
better trained.'
'It is hard to get into jail, Massa, for being so glad to see an old
friend. Is it one of the laws, Massa?'
'It is every where a law, to pick up vagabonds in the gutter,' said
Walter; 'if you put me to this trouble every day, I shall send you back
to Virginia.'
'Right glad to go, Massa; homesick enough,' said Pompey.
'Well, you must get over it, and behave in better fashion for the
future. I am not without hopes, you will learn good manners in due
time. This lesson will help you a little, and so will I, if you will
try to help yourself. I want you now at my lodgings, and will there
show you what you have to do.'
Pompey followed Walter to the inn, in better spirits; for a word of
encouragement always gave him a glow of happiness, and he tossed his
head with a new sense of his importance, as he entered the hotel to
receive the orders and wait upon the movements of his young master.
In a few weeks, Walter was received into the family of Mr. Gardner,
a highly respectable merchant, who was a friend and correspondent of
his father. In this situation he was favored with the best literary
advantages and possessed every facility for social enjoyment. He was
committed to the special care of Mr. Cheever, one of the best teachers
New England has ever produced, and made rapid proficiency in his
studies; in less than two years, he was fully prepared for college;
the usual examination was passed with singular credit, and he entered
Harvard University in the year 1688. The social and moral influences
which had surrounded him in Boston had done much to check his too
volatile disposition, and to inspire him with a high respect for the
consistent and exemplary piety which so much prevailed in those days;
he was freely admitted to the best circles, where elegance without
ostentation, cheerfulness without frivolity, and refinement without the
despotism of fashion, were the natural and graceful ornaments of the
social character.
Walter was not slow in improving the advantages he enjoyed. It is
true, he sometimes thought the bow was bent too long, and that the
demands of religious duty might be somewhat relaxed, yet he had the
good sense to perceive in the state of the community around him,
the best illustration of the excellence and moral force of that
education in which science and religion acted in concert and moulded
the temper and habits by their combined influence. Walter, however,
was not religious in the true sense of the term. His understanding
admitted the excellence of the moral precepts that were taught him,
and his conscience confessed their power. He wanted neither light nor
conviction on the subject, but he had no special love for the strict
requirements of religion and had no experience of its renovating power
on the heart.
We must now pass over the first years of college life, and pursue the
train of incidents up to the period which introduced our narrative.
Walter had attained his senior year in college, and had proceeded
thus far with credit to himself and the esteem and confidence of his
instructors. He had now reached that period when the character is
rapidly developed, and new forms of good or ill are daily stamped
on its features. At the age of twenty years, with a graceful person,
pleasing manners, and confessedly in the highest literary ranks, his
prospects were too flattering to escape the fears of his friends, that
the temptations of life might prove too strong for his principles; but
those fears were groundless. Although every distinction which wealth or
talents could bestow were at his command, yet Strale was never unduly
elated; there was no affectation of superiority, no arrogant assumption
of rank, no pride of distinction. His whole course at Cambridge had
been marked by a strict regard to his moral and social duties. He had
even declined the personal services of Pompey, who was left in the
family of Mr. Gardner, and chose to perform himself the little drudgery
of college rooms, and to live in commons upon the ordinary college
fare. The uniform kindness of his temper, his liberality to his fellow
students, and his strict regard to every point of order and discipline,
procured for him an enviable and well deserved reputation.
It was happy for Strale that among his youthful associates he possessed
such a friend as Lyford. It was still more happy that the female
society to which he was introduced, possessed every moral ornament, as
well as the graces of refinement and good breeding. Among the ladies
of New England he found very much to respect and admire. A scrupulous
regard to the delicacy and dignity of the sex was almost universal,
nor is it to be denied, that in personal attractions and all the truly
valuable ornaments of character, they have not been surpassed by any
succeeding generation.
It is pleasant to call up the beautiful pictures of simplicity and
grace which adorned the dwellings of our ancestors; to look back upon
those groups of maidens, who breathed the air of moral purity, and
bounded in the full tide of health and happiness, over the gardens and
among the forests of this very spot, where the city now spreads its
marts of business, its solid piles of masonry, its 'streets of palaces
and walks of state.' If the beauty of that moral painting was sometimes
marred and defaced, it was as often retouched by many a simple, yet
unconscious artist, and its calm and beautiful outline is still visible
as a blessed vision of the past, and a sure beacon to future eminence
and glory.
It was common among the students of Harvard College in those days,
with the approbation of the faculty, to make frequent visits to Boston
for purposes of social and religious improvement. This practice was
encouraged in the belief that the early habits of the students would
be formed on the best models, and that the moral feeling which then
prevailed, was just the atmosphere in which they should live and
breathe. The elder Mather, at that time President of the College,
was himself a resident of Boston, and in connection with his College
duties, was pastor of a large congregation in town. The students were,
of course, when in Boston, much under his supervision, and any instance
of misconduct would hardly escape the notice of this vigilant guardian
of the public morals.
It was at the house of Mr. Hallam, a gentleman of intelligence and
wealth in town, that Strale first met with the young lady whom we must
still call Miss Graham. She was the intimate friend of Miss Caroline
Hallam, a beautiful and accomplished girl of the same age. The early
friendship they had formed was of a character not readily to be
interrupted, and the interchange of visits between Boston and Salem
was kept up, as often as the circumstances of the two friends would
allow. There was, however, a strongly marked difference between the
two young ladies. Miss Graham was sincere, confiding, and transparent
in her character. Miss Hallam was somewhat vain, unusually gay in her
temper, and strongly inclined to suspicion and jealousy; yet these
points of character were not sufficiently developed, to interrupt the
harmony which had prevailed for several years. In the summer of 1690,
at a small musical party at Mr. Hallam's, Walter was first introduced
to Miss Graham, and the sudden and powerful interest she then acquired
in his affections, had never been subdued. From that time, when Mary
was in town, the house of Mr. Hallam was Walter's chosen resort. His
attentions, however, were cautiously shunned, and while she never
failed in all the forms of politeness, there was a manifest reserve
in her manners, which, though it checked his hopes and increased his
respect and admiration, did not at all diminish his love.
It was not surprising, however, that Mary should feel some interest
in a young gentleman of so many accomplishments, as were possessed
by Strale. But, while she was careful not to betray any special
attachment, or discover to her friends that her affections were at all
involved in the matter, and while perhaps she was herself unconscious
of the power he was gaining over her feelings, the reserve of her
manners gradually softened, and she engaged with lively interest
in that sportive and animated conversation, for which both were
distinguished. But her natural seriousness of manner inclined her
rather to subjects of graver import, and she never concealed the fact
that religion and its kindred themes, were those upon which she most
delighted to dwell. Indeed, this was so obvious to Strale, that he
often regretted that his own heart refused its sympathy with a subject,
which was uppermost in the heart of the object of his love. It was
plain, however, that the acquaintance of the parties was becoming
every day more agreeable, and the general opinion was, that, if the
holy bands of matrimony did not finally unite such kindred tastes and
tempers, no predictions, touching these matters, could ever be trusted
again.
This state of things between the parties continued for about a year,
when it gave occasion for the conversation which Lyford held with
Strale on their return from a hunting excursion. A few days after this,
Walter informed Lyford he had written his father of his attachment to
Mary, and desired permission to make known his feelings, and, if she
did not object, he requested his consent to their future union. This
letter was accompanied by one from Mr. Gardner, in which he assured
Mr. Strale that Miss Graham was every way worth of Walter's love, and
possessed all those graces and accomplishments which would reflect the
highest credit on the family.
This declaration on the part of Strale was entirely satisfactory to
Lyford, and he no longer objected to the occasional intercourse which
had been kept up between the parties. It is not improbable, however,
that Walter was a little in advance of his father's consent, and that
some of those visions, which glittered on his eye, would reflect a
portion of their brilliancy on the mind of Miss Graham. But nothing
was said of a definite character, and the two friends were left to the
pleasure attending the consciousness of mutual love and the occasional
sadness of 'hope deferred.'
Mary Graham was a decided favorite in Boston. Her personal attractions
were surpassed by none, and her manners and conversation were scarcely
rivalled by any of her associates. Yet she was simple and unpretending
in her demeanor; her religious character, from long reflection and
deep conviction, was firm and decided; but she was no enthusiast, and
though even Walter, at times, thought her more precise and severe
than necessary, yet there was a charm of inexpressible beauty,
interwoven with her every movement, a purity of mind and purpose, a
visible communion with things unseen and eternal, which commanded the
unvoluntary homage and respect of all who knew her.
It was not strange that a young lady thus gifted, should have many
admirers, nor that love of equal strength with that of Strale's, should
be kindled in the affections of others. Such was the fact in regard
to Mary, and its consequences will be unfolded in the progress of our
narration. But it is a law of our nature, most beneficent and wise,
that but one response can be given, and, when given in sincerity and
truth, it is done with no divided heart.