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THE KNIGHT OF THE GOLDEN MELICE
A Historical Romance
by
JOHN TURVILL ADAMS
The Author of "The Lost Hunter."
New-York:
Derby & Jackson, 119 Nassau-Street.
Cincinnati: W.H. Derby & Co.
1857
"One ... calling himself ... Knight of the Golden Melice."
_Winthrop's History of New England._
Alles weiderholt sich nur im Leben;
Ewig jung ist nur die Fantasie:
Was sich nie und nirgends hat begeben,
Das allein veraltet nie!
Shiller.
TO H.L.A.
To whom but to yourself; my H., should I dedicate this Romance, which
may be said to be the fruit of our mutual studies? With what delight I
have watched the unfolding, like a beautiful flower, of your youthful
mind, while instead of indulging in frivolous pursuits, so common to
your age, you have applied yourself to the acquiring of useful
knowledge as well as of elegant accomplishments, none but a parent can
know. Accept what I have written, my darling, as a tribute to a love
which makes the happiness of my life.
J.T.A.
INTRODUCTORY CHAPTER.
He cast, (of which we rather boast,)
The Gospel's pearl upon our coast,
And in these rocks for us did frame
A temple where to sound His name.
O let our voice His praise exalt
Till it arrive at Heaven's vault,
Which there perhaps rebounding may
Echo beyond the Mexic bay.
Thus sang they, in the English boat,
A holy and a cheerful note,
And all the way to guide their chime,
With falling oars they kept the time.
_Andrew Marvell's "Emigrants in the Bermudas."_
The beginning of the 17th century is an interesting epoch in American
annals. Although the Atlantic coast of that vast country now comprised
within the limits of the United States and Canada had previously been
traced by navigators, and some little knowledge acquired of the tribes
of red men who roamed its interminable forests, no attempt at
colonization worthy of the name had succeeded. The principal, if not
the only advantage derived from the discovery of North America, came
from the fisheries of Newfoundland and Labrador, frequented mostly by
the adventurous mariners of England, France and Spain. In these cold
seas, to the music of storms howling from the North Pole, and dashing
with ceaseless rage the salt spray against the rocky shore, they
threw their lines and cast their nets, at the same time enriching
themselves, and forming for their respective countries a race of hardy
and skilful sailors. The land attracted them not. The inducements
which led to the more speedy conquest and settlement of South America
by the Spaniards, were wanting. Gold and silver to tempt cupidity were
not to be found, and the stern, though not inhospitable character of
the Northern tribes was very different from the imbecile effeminacy of
the Southern races. The opposition likely to be encountered was more
formidable, and the prize to be won hardly proportioned to the hazard
to be incurred. While, therefore, the atrocious Spaniards were
enslaving the helpless natives of Peru and Mexico, and compelling them
by horrid cruelties to deliver up their treasures, the wild woods of
all that region to the north of the Gulf bearing the name of the
latter country, continued to ring to the free shout of the tawny
hunter. Not that attempts had not been made to obtain footing on the
continent, but they had all failed by reason of the character of the
emigrants, or the want of support from home, or of a thousand other
causes reducible to the category of ill luck, bad management, or
providential determination.
But the 17th century introduced a new order of things, beginning with
the arrival of the first permanent colony on the coast of Virginia in
the year 1607, indissolubly associated with the name of the chivalrous
Captain John Smith; followed in 1614 by the occupancy of the mouth of
the river Hudson, and of the island of Manhattan, the present site of
the city of New-York, by the Dutch; and, in 1620, of New-England, by
the English. The fulness of time had arrived, when the seeds of a
mighty empire were to be sown.
A diversity of opinion prevails with regard to the motives of the early
colonists to leave their homes. Without entering into an elaborate
discussion of the subject, and thereby invading the province of the
historian, it may perhaps be permitted me to say, that, in my
judgment, they were partly political, partly religious, partly
commercial, and partly adventurous.
One of the first acts of James the First of England, on his accession
to the throne in 1603, was the conclusion, by a peace with Spain, of
the long war so gloriously signalized by the destruction of the
Armada. The pacific policy wherewith he began his administration, he
never abandoned during the twenty-two years while he held the sceptre.
Hence the spirit of enterprise which exists in various degrees in
every flourishing nation, finding itself diverted from that warlike
channel wherein it had been accustomed to flow, was obliged to seek
other issues. The immense region beyond the sea claimed by England by
priority of discovery, offered a theatre for a portion of that spirit
to expend itself upon. Hither turned their eyes those who, in the
wars, had contracted a fondness for adventure, and were unwilling to
sink back into the peaceful pursuits of laborious industry. For such
men, the vague and the uncertain possess irresistible attractions. For
them, emigration was like the hazard of the gaming-table; ruin was a
possible consequence, but fortune might also crown the most
extravagant hopes. The merchant regarded with favor a scheme which
would furnish employment for his ships by the transportation of men
and stores. Besides, the fisheries had always been productive; they
might be largely extended, and a trade in furs and other products of
the country opened with the Indians. Perhaps the precious metals,
found in such quantities by the Spaniards at the South, might enrich
the North. Happily they found not that pernicious bane which is alike
the corrupter of private morals and the debaucher of nations. To these
considerations may be added a willingness at least on the part of the
government, to rid itself of idle profligates and unruly spirits.
Guided by this chart, it is not difficult to understand why efforts
similar to those which had proved abortive, should now be successful.
The character of the first emigrants to the Virginia colony, and the
products of the country sent home, confirm these views. They are
described as "many gentlemen, a few laborers, several refiners,
goldsmiths, and jewellers," and the returning ships were freighted
with cedar and with a glittering earth, which was mistaken for gold.
Another party is spoken of by a chronicler of the times, as "many
unruly gallants sent hither by their friends to escape ill destinies."
Doubtless among those denominated gentlemen and gallants were some
noble souls, like, though _longo intervallo_, to the heroic
Smith.
While the Virginia colony was slowly struggling against adverse
circumstances, and attracting to herself the cavaliers who, in various
capacities and with different fortunes, had figured in those troubled
times, important changes were going on at home destined to exert a
mighty influence on the New World. That awakening of the intellect
occasioned by the speculations of Wyckliff, the morning star of the
Reformation, more than two hundred years before, and to which Luther
and Calvin had imparted a fresh impulse, was performing its destined
work. By the assertion of the right of private judgment in matters of
religion, the pillars of authority had been shaken. Nothing was
considered as too sacred to be examined. To the tribunal of the mind
of every man, however undisciplined and illiterate, were brought, like
criminals to be tried, the profoundest mysteries and most perplexing
questions of theology, and in proportion to the ignorance of the
judge, was the presumption with which sentence was pronounced. A
general love of dogma prevailed. The cross-legged tailor plying his
needle on his raised platform; the cobbler in the pauses of beating
the leather on his lap-stone; and the field-laborer as he rested on
his spade; discussed with serene and satisfied assurance problems,
before the contemplation of which, the ripest learning and highest
order of mind had veiled their faces. Dissatisfaction with the
condition of things spread more and more. All, in both Church and
State, was considered out of joint. The former had not sufficiently
cleansed herself from the pollutions of Rome, and lagging behind at a
wide distance from the primitive model, required to be further
reformed; the latter by encroachments on the liberties of the subject,
and assistance furnished to a corrupt hierarchy, had become odious,
and was to be resisted and restrained. The idea of abolishing the
monarchy had indeed not entered the mind of the most daring reformer;
but it is certain, that when his feelings were inflamed by brooding
over real and fancied wrongs from the established Church, his anger
would overflow upon the government, which, with no sparing hand,
wielded the sword to enforce pains and penalties, imposed, ostensibly
for the protection of religion, but in reality for the interests of an
ally and its own safety. It was this exasperation, partly of a
religious and partly of a political nature, that bore its legitimate
fruit in the execution of Charles.
Before that awful lesson, however, discontent had increased until the
unhappy zealots, too feeble to resist, yet too resolute to submit,
determined to leave their country. Hard fate! Self-banished from the
associations of childhood, from the memorials of their ancestors! But
whither should they fly? They had heard indeed of a country; far
beyond the sea, where a refuge might be found, and whither some of
their countrymen had gone; but those first emigrants were cavaliers,
men of the same creed as their persecutors, and who had been induced
to leave England by motives different from those which controlled
their minds. Their purpose would not be attained by joining the
Virginia colony. They were not merely adventurers, hunting after
earthly treasures, but pilgrims in search of the kingdom of heaven.
Their company consisted of delicate women and children, from whom they
could not part, as well as of hardy men; and such were unfit to
encounter the perils of a new settlement, in an untried climate, and
an unknown country, infested by savages. Their principal want was
religious liberty; that they could find in Holland, and to Holland
they went. It was close at hand, and should any favorable change occur
in England, it would be easy to return. But after an experience of
some dozen years, they found insuperable objections to remaining
there, and determined, no such changes having taken place as they
anticipated when they left their native land, to emigrate to America.
In a season of the year as stern as the mood of their own minds, they
sought the stormy shores of New-England, and their example was soon
followed by others direct from the parent country. This first column
was composed exclusively of Protestants, who had refused conformity to
the established Church, or as they were called, Puritans. Later
arrivals brought more mixed companies, but still the Puritan element
always largely prevailed. Now separated by an ocean from, kings and
bishops, they resolved to realize the darling idea which, like the
fiery pillar before the wandering Israelites, had conducted them
across the sea, and that was the establishment of a commonwealth after
the model of perfection which they fondly imagined they had
discovered. And where should they find that perfect system, except in
the awful and mysterious volume wherein was the revelation of God's
will, and which, with a devotion that had impressed its every syllable
on their minds, they had day and night been studying? Was there not
contained therein a form of government which He had given to his
favored people; and what did both reason and piety suggest but to
accommodate it to their circumstances? All things favored the
undertaking. They were at too great a distance to be easily molested
by their enemies: the distracted condition of the government at home
afforded little opportunity for a strict supervision of their affairs;
and the few savages in their neighborhood left by the devastating
pestilence wherewith Providence had swept the new Canaan, in order to
make room for them, they soon found powerless before the terror of
their fire-arms. By excluding all whom it was their pleasure to call
lewd and debauched, or, in other words, who differed from them in
opinion, from participation in the government, they expected to avoid
confusion, and secure the blessing of heaven. It is absurd to suppose
that human pride, and ambition, and avarice did not intrude into these
visions of a reign of the saints on earth, but unquestionably notions
like these exerted a strong influence. They established their
commonwealth upon their theocratic model, and commenced the
experiment.
Soon, in logical and honest sequence with the principles which they
professed, followed a system of persecution rivaling that of which
they complained in England. To be true to themselves and creed, they
were obliged to adopt it. We may do as we please; we may say that the
fanatical notion, the horrid Erinnys, the baleful mother of woes
innumerable, that the dogmas of religion may rightfully be enforced by
the sword of the civil, power, dominated the world, and in this way
account for their conduct; or apologize for it by the necessities of
their situation, and the peculiarities of their creed; or combine
these causes, and so extenuate what cannot be defended.
I can well understand how a Puritan of 16--would justify his rigor.
His opinion of himself would be like that of the amiable Governor
Winthrop, as found in his first will, (omitted, however, in his
second,) as one "adopted to be the child of God, and an heir of
everlasting life, and that of the mere and free favor of God, who hath
elected me to be a vessel of glory." Such was the Puritan in his own
eyes. He was the chosen of heaven. He had, for the sake of the Gospel,
abandoned his country and the comforts of civilization, to erect (in
the language of Scripture which he loved to use) his Ebenezer in the
wilderness. He wanted to be let alone. He invited not Papists or
English Churchmen, or any who differed in opinion from him, to throw
in their lots with his. They would only be obstacles in his way,
jarring-strings in his heavenly antique-fashioned harp. Away with the
intruders! What right had they to molest him with their dissenting
presence? The earth was wide: let them go somewhere else. They would
find more congenial associates in the Virginia colony. He would have
no Achans to breed dissension in his camp. With bold heart and strong
hand would he cast them out. His was the empire of the saints; an
empire, not to be exercised with feebleness and doubt, but with vigor
and confidence.
It is obvious that a very wide difference existed between the
characters of the two colonies. The cavalier, sparkling and fiery as
the wines he quaffed, the defender of established authority and of the
divine right of kings, was the antithesis of the abstemious and
thoughtful religionist and reformer, dissatisfied with the present,
hopeful of a better future, and not forgetful that it was in anger God
gave the Israelites a king.
Meanwhile the Roman Catholics had not been idle. Their devoted
missionaries, solicitous to occupy other regions which should more
than supply the deficiency occasioned by the Protestant defection, and
confident of the final triumph of a Church, out of whose pale they
believed could be no salvation, had scattered themselves over the
continent, and with marvellous energy and self-sacrifice, were
extending their influence among the natives. No boundaries can be
placed to the visions of the enthusiastic religionist. His strength is
the strength of God. No wonder, then, that the Roman Catholic priest
should cherish hopes of rescuing the entire new world from heresy,
which he considered worse than heathenism, and should enlist all his
energies in so grand a cause. It is almost certain that extensive
plans were formed for the accomplishment of this object.
Such were the elements which the seething caldron of the old world
threw out upon the new. A part only of the materials furnished by
these elements have I used in framing this tale. It is an attempt to
elucidate the manners and credence of quite an early period, and to
explain with the license accorded to a romancer, some passages in
American history.
Thus much have I thought proper to premise. It is impossible to judge
correctly of the men of any age, without taking into consideration the
circumstances in which they were placed, and the opinions that
prevailed in their time. To apply the standard of this year of grace,
1856, to the religious enlightenment of more than two hundred years
ago, would be like measuring one of Gulliver's Lilliputians by
Gulliver himself. I trust that the world has since improved, and that
of whatever passing follies we may be guilty, we shall never
retrograde to the old narrow views of truth. If mankind are capable of
being taught any lesson, surely this is one--that persecution or
dislike for opinion sake is a folly and an evil, and that we best
perform the will of Him to whom we are commanded to be like, not by
contracting our affections into the narrow sphere of those whose
opinions harmonize with ours, but by diffusing our love over His
creation who pronounced it all "very good."
THE KNIGHT OF THE GOLDEN MELICE.
CHAPTER I.
Come on, Sir! now you set your foot on shore,
_In novo orbe_.
BEN JONSON'S _Alchemist_.
Our tale begins within a few years after the end of the first quarter
of the 17th century, at Boston, in Massachusetts, then in the infancy
of its settlement.
On an evening in the month of May, were assembled some seven or eight
men around a table, in a long, low room, the sides only of which were
plastered, the rough beams and joists overhead being exposed to view;
the windows were small, and the floor without a carpet; and the
furniture consisted of the table, over which was spread a black cloth,
whereupon stood several lighted candles in brass candlesticks, of a
dozen chairs, covered with russet-colored leather, and of some wooden
benches, ranged against the walls, and which were occupied by various
persons. At one end of the apartment the floor was raised a few
inches, and the chair standing on this elevation differed from the
others in having arms at the sides, and in being of ampler proportions,
as if by its appearance to vindicate a claim to superior position. But
unpretending as was the room, it was a place of no little importance,
being no less than the Court Hall and Council Chamber of the "Governor
and Company of the Massachusetts Bay, in New England." At the moment
of which we are speaking, it was appropriated to a meeting of the
Court of Assistants of the Colony.
The person occupying the arm-chair, on the platform, was a man of not
unpleasing appearance, somewhat less than fifty years of age, and
dressed with considerable precision in the style prevailing among
gentlemen of distinction at that day. His face was rather long, and
surmounted by a high and well developed forehead, from the top of
which, dark, parted hair fell in curls down the temples over a white
ruff, fringed with costly lace, that encircled his neck. His eyes were
blue; his eye-brows highly arched; his nose large; beard covered the
upper lip and chin; and so far as an opinion could be formed, from his
sitting posture, he was tall and well-made. The expression of his
countenance was gentle, and there was an air of introspection and
abstraction about it as if he were much in the habit of communing with
his own thoughts. The upper part of his person, which only was
visible, the rest being hid by the table and depending cloth, was
clothed in a black coat or doublet, without ornament or even the
appearance of a button, and at his side he wore a rapier, evidently
more as a badge of his rank than for use.
Seated at his right hand, and below the platform, was a man a dozen
years at least his elder, whose stout look and fiery glances indicated
that if time had grizzled his thick and close cut hair, it had not
quenched the heat of his spirit. Like the gentleman first described,
he was dressed in sad-colored garments, differing but little from
them, except that instead of a ruff, he wore a plain white band,
falling upon his breast, cut somewhat like those worn by clergymen at
the present day, but longer, and passing round the neck and covering
the collar of the coat. Although the oldest of the company, he seemed
to have himself the least under control, continually moving in his
chair, drawing forward and pushing away the sheets of paper that lay
before him, and now and then darting an impatient glance at the person
in the arm-chair, from whom it would wander over his companions, and
then fasten on the door.
The third and last gentleman whom we think proper to describe, was a
man of about the age of the first, but utterly unlike him. His head
was covered with a black skull cap, (probably to protect his
baldness,) beneath which, rose ears more prominent than ornamental,
being very little relieved by the hair, which was cropped short. His
complexion was florid, and the parts of the face, about the chin and
jaws, full and heavy, giving an appearance of great roundness to the
countenance. His features were regular, the mouth small and
compressed, and on the upper lip he wore a moustache, parted in the
centre, and brushed out horizontally, balanced by a tuft on the chin,
four or five inches long. An adventurous spirit gazed out of his clear
steady eyes, and altogether he looked like a man of determined temper,
and one who, having once formed a resolution, would find it difficult
to relinquish it. Around his neck he also had a broad band, divided in
the middle, and falling half way down his breast. The remainder of the
persons around the table bore the same general resemblance to these
three, in dress, that one gentleman ordinarily does to another, and
all were engaged in conversation.
Presently the gentleman in the arm-chair, who was evidently the
President, took up a small bell that was placed before him, and
sounding it, the summons was replied to by the entrance of a man from
a side-door. He was the servitor or beadle of the Court, and moving to
the end of the table opposite the President, he stood facing him and
waiting his commands.
"Bring in the prisoner," said the President, in a low tone, but so
distinct that it was heard all over the room.
The beadle noiselessly glided out, and in a few moments returned,
leading a man, whose wrists were fastened with gyves, whom he
conducted to the end of the table he had just left, and placed so as
to confront the President.
"Take off the irons," said the same, low, musical voice.
The man, thus unpleasantly introduced, was in the prime of life,
certainly not more than thirty-five or six years of age, and from his
bold and erect carriage, seemed (as was the fact) to have been bred a
soldier. Upon the order to take off the shackles being complied with,
he cast a look of acknowledgment toward the speaker.
"Master Nowell," said the President, "read the accusation."
The person addressed, who was the Clerk or Secretary, rose hereupon
from his seat near the centre of the table, and read "the
information," which it is unnecessary to give at length, charging the
prisoner with using most foul, scandalous, indecent, defamatory, and
unseemly invectives, reproaches, and passionate speeches, toward and
against the worshipful magistrates and godly ministers of the colony,
thereby contriving and designing to bring into contempt, all law,
order, religion, and good government, &c., and to subvert the
authority of the magistrates and undermine the wholesome influence of
the godly ministers, &c., to the disgrace and ruin of the colony and
scandal of true religion, &c.
When the paper had been read, the President demanded--"Are you guilty
or not?"
"I am as innocent as the worshipful Governor himself, and whoever
wrote those lies, is a villain and a foresworn knave," replied the
prisoner.
"Enter that the prisoner says he is not guilty," said the President,
addressing the Secretary; "and do thou, Philip Joy, remember where
thou art, and express thyself in a manner more becoming this
presence."
"It is hard to be tied up like a mad dog and not get angry," replied
the accused.
"Sirrah!" cried the gentleman, whose appearance was described next
after the President, "dost thou bring a contumacious spirit here to
bandy words with the right worshipful Governor? Silence, and answer
peremptorily to the questions of thy betters."
"Nay, worthy Deputy Governor Dudley, the poor man is, I doubt not,
already sensible of his error, and sinned more out of ignorance than
design," observed the President.
"The honored Governor," spoke an assistant from near the bottom of the
table, "is, I fear, disposed to be too lenient in respect of these
foul-mouthed carrion."
"Our law condemns no man unheard; nor will I be more stern," answered
the mild Governor Winthrop, (for it was he). "It seems to me to be the
part of a judge to allow no harsh suspicions to enter his mind, lest
they throw baleful shadows over his decisions. Philip Joy," he added,
turning to the prisoner, "thou hast declared thyself innocent; wilt
thou be tried by a jury, or art content to trust thy cause to the
judgment of the honorable Court of Assistants?"
"I care not who tries me," replied Joy. "I am a true man; and, though
I don't belong to the congregation, am as honest as a great many who
do, and he is a horrid villain, who--"
"Enough," interrupted the Governor, "a quick tongue often prejudices,
while a slow one seldom doth. Do I understand that it is thy desire to
be tried by the Assistants?"
"It is not my desire to be tried by any one," said Joy; "but, sith I
am to be put on my deliverance, I think that I shall stand a better
chance in the hands of honorable gentlemen, some of whom have been
soldiers, than in the dirty paws of tinkers, and cobblers, and mere
mechanicals."
No smile mantled over the faces of his grave judges, but it was
obvious, from the twinkling of eyes and glances shot by one to
another, that the speech of Joy had done him no harm with those who,
even thus early, began to feel annoyed at the approach of the clouted
shoe.
"Art thou prepared for thy trial? inquired the President.
"At any moment, and the sooner the better, your worship. I had rather
mount guard, for a week, in steel helmet and corselet, with breast,
back, culet, gorget, tasses, sword, musket and bandoliers, in the
hottest sun that ever roasted a blackamoor, or stand up to my knees,
six months, in snow, without my mandilion, than lie a day longer in
that ace--I mean that kennel of a lock-up."
"It, meseems, thou art in a hurry to have justice done thee, good
fellow," said, with a grim smile, the gentleman who was the third one
described, stroking, with his embroidered glove, the tuft of hair that
hung below his chin.
"You are a soldier, Captain Endicott, and can look a man straight in
the eyes," paid Joy; "and, though people give you credit for a hot
temper, I will trust you."
Endicott elevated his eye-brows at this ambiguous compliment, and for
a moment seemed at a loss how to take it, especially as he remarked a
peculiar expression on the faces of his colleagues.
"Being a soldier thyself," he replied, fastening his eyes sternly on
the face of the prisoner, "thou art bound to know that it becomes not
one in the ranks to prattle."
Joy made no answer, but returned a cool and unabashed look to the gaze
of the other.
"If the witnesses have been called, let them appear," said the
President.
Two men, of a rather moan appearance, now stepped forward; an oath by
the uplifted hand was administered, and one commenced his testimony.
The substance of his story was, that Joy, on a certain occasion, and,
at a certain place, in his presence and hearing, had declared, with a
profane exclamation, that there were men in the colony, wiser, and
more learned, than either the magistrates or ministers; and that,
between them both, what with their long prayers and intermeddling in
every body's affairs, they were like to ruin the plantation.
Upon the conclusion of the testimony, the witness was sharply
cross-questioned by Governor Winthrop, and some inquires were made by
various Assistants, but nothing further was elicited. As for Joy, he
disdained to ask a question, declaring that his accuser, Timpson, had
already been in the stocks for leasing; and, besides, had been
cudgelled by himself for stealing.
Hezekiah Timpson, a villainous, lean, crop-haired fellow, with a
hang-dog look, and sanctimonious air, upon hearing himself charged
with delinquencies, which were notorious to the whole Court, raised to
heaven his eyes, which, until now, he had kept fastened on the floor,
and, sighing deeply, exclaimed:
"I do confess my iniquities and my sins are ever before me. Verily,
was I thus given over to Satan to be buffeted but by free-grace have I
been snatched, as a brand from the burning, even as I yet hope to see
thee, Philip."
"Canting rogue, I want none of thy hopes, good or bad," said Joy.
"Cease thy reviling," cried Dudley, starting from his seat. "What! are
we to sit here to listen to malapert railings against men of godly
life and conversation?" he added, addressing himself to Winthrop. But
before the Governor could reply, one of the Assistants interposed.
"Let the poor man unbosom himself freely," he said, "that the whole
truth may come to light."
"Our worshipful brother Spikeman," answered the Deputy Governor, with
a sneer, (which he did not attempt to suppress,) "was not always ready
to allow such free-speech, as witness the case of Martin Wrexham,
banished for speaking to his disparagement."
"I trust that I shall be able to give the worshipful Deputy Governor
such reasons for my conduct, as will satisfy him," said Spikeman.
Dudley threw himself back into his chair, as if not half satisfied;
and Winthrop, who had calmly listened to the colloquy, took advantage
of the pause that ensued, to direct the other witness to testify.
From the examination, it appeared that he had been present at the
conversation referred to by Timpson, that, indeed, it was between Joy
and himself, and that the former had not been aware of the presence of
the informer, until on turning round, when Timpson was standing at his
elbow. He recollected nothing said by Joy about the ministers, except
that he had, any day, rather listen to one of Corporal Joly's songs,
than Mr. Cotton's long sermons; nor respecting the magistrates, but
that there were better judges in England.
The testimony being concluded, the prisoner was asked what he had to
say for himself, to which he replied:
"Only that Hezekiah Timpson was an eves-dropping, lying villain, and
that the other witness had told the truth. He meant no harm by
anything he had said."
"Dost think it advisable to retract anything?" inquired Spikeman.
"I know not why I should deny the truth," answered Joy.
"Remand the prisoner, and clear the court-room," cried the President;
and Joy was accordingly led out, followed by the spectators.
As soon as the members of the Court were left to themselves, Winthrop
began to collect the opinions of the Assistants, commencing with the
youngest, who were placed most remote from him. At first, a
considerable diversity of sentiment prevailed, several seeming
disposed to discredit Timpson, and to acquit Joy. They pronounced
their opinions shortly and pithily, giving their reasons in a few
words, until it came to Spikeman's turn, who spoke more at length.
"The vice," he said, "of backbiting godly ministers, and maligning
magistrates, had risen, in consequence of the mistaken leniency of the
Court, to an alarming height, so as to threaten the very foundations
of their government. There was not a Satan-instigated railing
Rabsheka, who did not now have his daily fling at the servants of the
Lord, engaged in much tribulation in planting his vineyard, and there
were many saints who were already calling out, O Lord, how long! They
had themselves just been witnesses of the audacity, wherewith, in the
very presence of the right worshipful Governor, and the worshipful
Assistants, the prisoner had assumed to sit in judgment upon a member
of the congregation, and to foul him with abuse. Never had he dared to
exhibit such topping insolence, had he not supposed himself supported
by a mutinous spirit from without. It was a dangerous spirit which, if
inflamed by indulgence, would become a deadly boil to poison the whole
body politic. Prick therefore the imposthume at once, and, like wise
surgeons, let out the offensive matter. He was not surprised at the
indignation of the worthy Deputy. It was a zeal unto godliness, and
devoutly did he wish, that himself, and all, were more inspired with
it. When he had asked that the prisoner might be permitted to speak
freely, it was that every Assistant might be convinced by his own ears
of the boldness wherewith rebellion to constituted authority,
impudently bursting from the bottomless pit, ventured to obtrude into
a court of justice, and to boast of its misdeeds. Was a child of the
covenant of grace, and our brother in Christ, to be reproached with
the sins which he had committed when in the gall of bitterness and
bonds of iniquity, and which had been washed out by the blood of the
New-Testament? Nay, then, give a universal license to every lewd
fellow, to rake up the sins of your youth, and let him send to
England--that England which spewed us out of her mouth, as if we were
not the children of her bowels--to obtain the proofs. Had there been
no word of evidence, the bare conduct of the prisoner before them was
enough to satisfy them of his dangerous character, and he should feel
his conscience accusing him of failure in his obligations to the
Church and the Colony, were he not to advise exemplary punishment,
whereof banishment would be a necessary but the slightest part."
The speech of Spikeman was evidently acceptable to a majority of the
Assistants. It appealed to the fanaticism of some, and to the fears of
others; but there were some on whom it produced no such effect.
Captain Endicott, fierce zealot as he was, found in it something
disagreeable. As his manner was, he stroked with his hand the long
tuft on his chin, before he commenced speaking:
"There are things," he said, "in the speech of the worshipful brother
whereof I approve, and others, again, whereunto I may not give my
assent. Though it may savor of worldly pride, and be proof of the old
Adam lingering in me, I will say, that however guilty in the sight of
God, before whom I acknowledge myself the chief of sinners, I
challenge before man an examination of my life, and fear no evil
report from England or elsewhere. But for this self-boasting, I crave
the pardon and prayers of my brethren. Touching the prisoner, which is
the matter in hand, I find him somewhat bold, and not altogether in
other respects what I desire, but yet not worthy of severe punishment,
or likely to be a dangerous person in the Commonwealth. Where need
requires, I trust, with preventing grace, never to be deficient in
prompt and energetic action, but no necessity therefor hath, in my
judgment, at present arisen. For, as for this young man, ye are to
recollect that he is a soldier, and that a stout one, and may yet do
the Commonwealth service in her defence, whereunto I doubt not his
willingness, and that his free speech doth proceed rather from the
license of camps than from malignity of temper. Moreover, I find not
the rule of Scripture whereby we are bound that by the mouth of two or
three witnesses every word shall be established altogether complied
with, meaning not, thereby, to impugn the statement of our brother of
the congregation, worthy good man Timpson, but only that his words are
not confirmed as our law requires."
Thus spoke Endicott, who was afterwards so notorious for his
severities against dissidents; but these sentiments found no echo in
the mind of the Deputy Governor.
"I thank God," he said, "that however gross and innumerable my errors
and backslidings, I am no libertine." (Here Endicott's eyes flashed,
but he contented himself with stroking, in a musing manner, the long
tuft of hair on his chin.) "The evil we are called upon by the united
voice of the suffering saints in this wilderness to suppress,"
continued Dudley, "demands, I trow, sharper practice than has hitherto
been applied, and I do admire at the milk-and-water temper of the
worthy Assistant at this present. Not thus is he wont to speak, but in
the common is zealous even unto slaying. What incantation or witch of
Endor hath blinded him, I know not."
The blood mounted into the face of Endicott, for he, as well as the
others present, understood the remark to refer to the young and gentle
wife of the ex-Governor of Salem, and who was supposed to exert a
great influence in soothing the fierceness of his disposition, (alas,
if it were so; how short a time that influence lasted!) and many were
the smiles that circled the table, but Winthrop, apprehensive of a
storm, interposed.
"My worthy friend," he said, "can surely intend no disrespect toward
one of the stoutest champions of our Israel. Doubtless he will be able
so to explain his words, as to make their meaning innocent."
"I complain not," burst forth Endicott. "If it were lawful to try
conclusions in the manner of the Gentiles, and he a fit man for me to
deal with, his lips should never repeat such vituperations;" and as he
concluded, he threw one of his embroidered gloves violently on the
table before Dudley, who sat opposite.
"Peace, gentlemen," cried Winthrop, rising with dignity, and looking
alternately at one and the other. "Forget not that ye are brethren,
and that upon your harmony depends the prosperity of our Zion, If ye
who are of the household of faith permit idle bickerings to divide
your hearts, how can ye expect the blessing of Heaven on your labors?
If the cement to hold together the stones of the temple be untempered
mortar, must not the fabric fall, and bury the worshippers in its
ruins? If you love me, Captain Endicott, my brave and generous, but
hasty friend, take up your glove; if you have respect for the high
station you so worthily fill, noble Dudley, extend your hand in token
of amity, and assure our brother that no offence was designed."
The time occupied by the governor had afforded opportunity for the
passions of the two gentlemen to cool, and for them to become sensible
of the unbecoming parts they were playing. As if they had at the same
instant arrived at a like conclusion, Endicott reached forward to pick
up his gauntlet, while Dudley stretched out his open palm. It was
grasped by the other, and the two men wrung each other's hand as if
whatever might be their private quarrels, they were resolved to stand
by one another against the rest of the world.
"I crave forgiveness," said Dudley, at the same time resuming his seat
and speech, "of the honorable Assistants in general, and of my
excellent brother Endicott in particular, and beseech them to ascribe
the vehemency of my speech to no want of respect for them, but to my
zeal in the common service, and to a natural impetuosity. I solemnly
protest that my observation pointed at nothing offensive, and that
come whence it might, I would resent a wrong to my honored brother as
quickly as to myself. Yet I will say, that I marvel that one so
familiar with the nature of wounds as my honorable and dear friend,
the worthy founder of our infant commonwealth, (and this is an ancient
and increasing evil,) should not know that old wounds require rather
vinegar than oil, the cautery instead of unguents. As a member of the
persecuted Church, I will not allow the declarations of a brother of
that holy and mystical body to be overborne and set at naught by an
ill liver like this Philip Joy. I say that men have become too free in
uttering their licentious imaginations about those who are placed by
God's Providence above them for their soul's good and bodies' health,
and that an example should be made to repress the gossip of light
tongues and evil thinkers. In punishing this Joy, (who might more
properly be called mourning,) we exalt the honor of the congregation,
one of whose sons, even in your presence, and with intent to dishonor
you, he has abused with perverse epithets, while at the same time we
strike a wholesome terror into others in like case to offend."
He ceased, and looked around as if to gather the suffrages of his
associates, but since the little interruption to their harmony, the
wary Assistants were too politic, by word or sign, to betray a bias,
so that he beheld only downcast eyes, and countenances purposely
vacant, in order to conceal the thoughts of their owners.
It was now the turn of the Governor to express his opinion, and as he
opened his lips, all eyes were fastened on him. His manner was grave,
yet soft and persuasive, and a desire was manifest to pursue a course
which should offend none, but reconcile differences by yielding
something to all.
"_Tumultuosa libertas_", (he said, commencing his remarks a Latin
quotation,) "_tranquilitati probrosoe anteponenda est_, and in the
lively observations we have heard, I mark not the signs of dissension,
but of free thought, having in view the honor of God and the welfare
of his little flock scattered abroad in a strange land. But the good
shepherd will yet gather the dispersed into his arms, and gently lead
them through green pastures and by still waters. Our Israel owes you
thanks, brethren, for the vigilance wherewith ye watch the walls of
Jerusalem, and are quick to spy the lurking wolf and ravening bear. If
the watchmen sleep, what shall become of the city? But her strong
towers of defence and bulwarks are ye, emulous only to show your love.
"It hath been said--to come more immediately to the matter in
hand--that the vice of evil speaking of dignities had greatly
increased, and needed to be repressed. It is so, and cannot be denied;
and I would thereupon note a caution to my brethren, and that is, the
necessity of rather discouraging that democratical spirit which is
threatening to sweep away all distinctions, and to strip the
Assistants themselves of necessary power. It is an insubordination,
whereof foul breaths, licentious imaginations, and undisciplined
tongues, are the inciters and fomenters. Now, if one can legitimately
be proved guilty of the offence, I would be forward as well for the
salutary discipline of the offender as highest weal of the state, to
visit him with a due measure of punishment. But it behooves the court
to see that the charge is proved.
"In the present case, even although the testimony of the principal
witness were thrown out, which, howbeit, cannot be done, he standing
unimpeached before us, yet there remains sufficient from the testimony
of the second, the truth of which is not denied by the prisoner, to
convince us that something light and trivial has been uttered
reflecting upon the godly Mr. Cotton, whose edifying discourses were
degraded beneath the value of a song. This is in a manner to impeach
the sanctity of religion, by making light of the character of her
ministers. As for what the prisoner said touching the magistrates, I
trust that it is true, and am disposed to connect no evil intent
therewith. My judgment is to pronounce him guilty of using indecorous
language respecting a minister of the gospel, and to condemn him
therefor in a light fine, to help replenish our lean treasury."
"Did not the right worshipful Governor remark the profane exclamation
of the prisoner even in this presence?" inquired Spikeman.
"None, Master Spikeman," answered Winthrop. "I did indeed observe that
the prisoner, in one instance, commenced what I supposed was the word
'accursed,' but checked himself in mid utterance as if sensible that
it was unmeet to be spoken, which rather savors of respect than of the
contrary."
But the Assistant shook his head. "I have seldom seen," he said, "a
more stiff-necked and perverse offender, and one more deserving of
many stripes."
Hereupon followed a discussion of some length, which terminated
favorably to the opinions of the Deputy Governor and of the Assistant
Spikeman, and it was finally agreed that Joy should be found guilty,
generally, and condemned to be confined for the space of one month, in
irons, to a fine of £5, and to banishment from the colony. This result
was not attained without strong resistance from Winthrop, who strove
to mitigate the punishment to a fine, and from Endicott, who
endeavored to obtain remission of the banishment; but in vain--the
vehemence of Dudley, and the insinuations of Spikeman, overbore all
opposition.
Upon the conclusion being arrived at, Joy was placed again before the
Governor, who, with a grieved look, pronounced sentence, and
immediately dismissed the Court.