A gentle knight was pricking on the plaine.
SPENCER.
On the morning of a fine day, a fortnight after the occurrences above
narrated, a horseman was riding over the neck, or narrow strip of
marshy ground, which connects the peninsula on which Boston is
situated with the main land. The rider was a tall, handsome man, of
apparently some thirty-five years of age, who sat on his steed and
handled the reins with a practiced grace, as if the saddle and himself
were familiar acquaintances. Under a broad-brimmed, slouched hat, fell
curls of dark hair, down the sides of an oval though rather thin face,
embrowned by exposure to the weather. The nose was curved like the
beak of an eagle, the eyes bright and wild as those of the royal bird,
and a close beard curled over the face, including the upper lip, the
bold yet sweet expression of which it did not conceal.
The dress of the cavalier was in the fashion of the times, though
sobered down, either for the purpose of attracting less attention, or
out of deference to the customs of the people he was among. A close
fitting doublet or jerkin, of black velvet, over which was thrown a
light cloak of the same color, but of different material, and a
falling collar, shaped somewhat like those in Vandyke's portraits,
edged with a narrow peccadillo or fringe of lace, ornamented the upper
part of his person; his hands and wrists were protected by long gloves
or gauntlets, reaching half way up to the elbow, and opening wide at
the top; russet-colored boots expanded at the aperture and garnished
with spurs reached high up the legs, and a small cut and thrust sword,
suspended by a belt, which was also russet-colored, hung at his side.
The handle of the sword was exquisitely beautiful, worthy of being the
work of Cellini himself. It was mostly of massive gold, the hilt
smooth and shining, and the guard embossed with a variety of elegant
devices. But the part which first arrested attention and attracted the
most admiration was the head, whereupon was sculptured a gigantic
honey-bee, with wings expanded, as if about to fly from its perch; the
eyes were sparkling diamonds, the body was composed of different
colored metals, in imitation of life--and the whole so cunningly
wrought, that it seemed a living bee about to mount into the air. The
man rode and looked as if not anticipating, and incapable of fearing
danger, carelessly glancing round, while the noble animal he bestrode,
as if he had caught the spirit of his rider, stepped high and
gallantly along. But in truth there was little or no danger, the white
settlers being, at the time, at peace with the neighboring Indian
tribes.
It was a mere bridle-path the horseman was following, which wound
about in various directions, in order to avoid marshy ground, or
trunks of trees, or other obstacles, and appeared to be perfectly
familiar to the horse, who trotted on without any guidance from his
rider. As for the latter, as if to beguile the tediousness of the way,
he would pat at one moment the neck of his dumb companion, and address
a few words to him, and at the next, break out into snatches of song.
Thus he proceeded until he emerged from the woods, and an open space,
the site of the future city of Boston, once the cornfields of warlike
tribes, mysteriously removed by pestilence, in order as to the excited
imaginations of the early settlers it seemed, to make room for the
fugitives, lay spread before him.
The rider stopped his horse, and for some moments sat in silence
gazing on the scene. From the eminence, to whose top he had ridden,
declined before him the sloping hills, on whose sides open cultivated
spaces were interspersed with woods. On the waters' edge, for the most
part, were scattered the houses of the colonists, the majority of them
rude huts, made of unhewn logs, with here and there a frame building,
or a brick or stone house of less humble pretensions, while beyond,
rolled the sparkling waves of the bay, sprinkled with "a great company
of islands, whose high cliffs shoulder out the boisterous seas," as
the old chronicler Wood expresses it, and rocking a few small vessels
lying at anchor. He who viewed the region that morning, must have had
a brilliant imagination to dream of the magnificent cities destined to
stud those coasts, and of the millions to fill those extensive forests
within two hundred years. Westward, indeed, the star of Empire had
taken its way, and the wise men of the East were following its
heavenly guidance; but who knew it then?
At last, excited by the view and his thoughts, the rider rose in his
stirrups, and stretching out his arms, gave expression, in a low
voice, to his feelings--
"Well may these men, who hope to found a new dynasty, be proud of the
lovely land which they have chosen for a refuge! If iron resolution,
scorn of delights and contempt of death could do it, they would
accomplish the emprise--_mais l'homme propose et Dieu dispose_.
Without the directing mind and sustaining arm of the source of all
wisdom and power, in vain is the labor of man. Ruin and disgrace shall
overwhelm all undertakings not founded on the Rock of Ages. With what
great events teems the bosom of futurity? O, that my eyes could pierce
the misty distance; that my dim presaging soul could behold the
stately advance of the coming centuries, whose sounding feet I fancy
that I can hear! Bear they in their hands weal or woe to humanity?
Hath the creative energy set a limit, beyond which the tide of human
accomplishment, like the hidden power in yonder heaving ocean, may not
rise; but, having reached its destined apex, must, with hoarse
murmurs, recoil back upon itself in disordered fragments?--or in these
later times, when men were ripe for the blessing, revealed to the
world these virgin regions, separated from the vices of Europe and of
the East by a mighty sea, here to recommence that experiment which
hath partially failed elsewhere, and imparted sufficient measure of
His spirit to chosen instruments to work out the problem of human
happiness, and to conduct mankind to heights of felicity, beginning
here and never ending?--the bare contemplation whereof causes my flesh
to quiver with delight."
As he uttered these words, forgetful of his situation, he stuck the
spurs into his horse's flanks, and the astonished animal started with
a bound. It was then the consummate address wherewith the stranger
sat, his horse specially exhibited itself. As if the feeling of the
startled steed were instantly communicated to himself; and one spirit
animated both, his body bent gently forward in the saddle, catching at
once the motion, and accommodating itself thereto, so that the rider
appeared as firmly fastened, and as much at his ease, as though he
were a part of the animal. After half a dozen plunges, and some
soothing words, the excited horse having expressed his displeasure by
snorts, frequent and loud at first, but gradually decreasing in
rapidity and loudness, yielded to the strong arm of his master, and
reduced his pace to the long trot at which he had before proceeded.
"My noble Mourad," said the rider, patting the steed's neck, and
addressing him as if capable of understanding language--"I wonder not
at thine astonishment; but when these thoughts possess me, I am
oblivious of everything else. I will be more heedful henceforth, nor
allow splendid imaginations to prick thine innocent sides."
The flexible ears of Mourad moved backward and forward while his rider
was speaking, his dilated eyes glanced repeatedly back at him, and he
shook his head as if not half satisfied with the apology.
And now the stranger, leisurely advancing, soon reached the little
collection of houses. Guiding his horse carefully through the unpaved
streets, and avoiding the stumps of trees which were occasionally to
be met, he stopped at a house of somewhat more imposing appearance
than the rest. It was of wood, like most of the other dwellings, and
differed from them principally in being larger. It could not be said
to belong to any order or style of architecture, but bore a general
resemblance to buildings erected in England at the time. It stood with
its gable-ends, three in number, to the street, the roof rising up
steeply, and making a considerable garret, the side of the gable-ends
projecting over the second story, as did also that over the first. The
windows were of a square form, with small diamond-shaped panes,
opening by hinges at the sides, and there was but one entrance in
front, to protect which a small verandah or porch was thrown across
the building. Two men, in the ordinary dress and equipments of
soldiers of the period, their clumsy muskets leaning against the side,
were seated on a bench near the entrance, and by their presence
indicated the residence of Governor Winthrop.
"Is the right worshipful Governor at home so that he may be seen?"
inquired the stranger, as he dismounted from the horse, whose bridle
was held by one of the soldiers.
"He is at home, and may be seen, Sir Christopher," replied one of the
men, "I will conduct you to his presence."
So saying, the soldier opened the door, and preceding the visitor,
ushered him into a hall some ten feet wide, and thence into a small
ante-room, or room of reception, where he was entreated to be seated,
while his arrival should be announced. It required but a moment, which
was the whole time of the soldier's absence, for the stranger to take
a survey of the room wherein he sat.
It was not more than twelve or fifteen feet square, and destitute of
paper or hangings, and the floor, like that of the hall, was bare, and
made of coarsely-planed boards. It had two doors, one opening into the
hall and another into an adjoining room, and was lighted by a single
window. Its furniture consisted of only a few wooden chairs and
benches.
"The right worshipful Governor directs me to invite you to him," said
the messenger, throwing open the second door above mentioned.
The stranger rose, and crossing with a stately step the ante-chamber,
followed the soldier into the adjoining apartment.
"Welcome, Sir Christopher," exclaimed the Governor, rising from a
desk, at which he had been writing, and advancing with extended hand
to his visitor, "I am honored in seeing you again in my poor house."
"He may deem himself a minion of fortune," courteously replied the
stranger addressed as Sir Christopher, grasping the offered hand, "who
either in this far wilderness or in the proud streets of London, is
privileged to exchange salutations of friendship with so worthy and
every way accomplished a gentleman as the honored chief magistrate of
this colony."
"Alas! I fear," rejoined Winthrop, taking a seat, after first formally
seating the other, "alas! I fear that my shoulders are too weak for so
great a burden. Were it not for the prize of the high calling set
before me, and the sweet refreshment sometimes breathed into me by the
Spirit, I should faint beneath its weight."
"We are commanded neither to faint nor to be weary of well-doing,"
said Sir Christopher, "with comfortable assurances that as is our
need, so shall our strength be. But, honored sir, I much mistake the
nobility of your mind, if you would be willing to exchange your high
place for a meaner lot. I thank God that you are placed upon an
eminence to be a tower of strength to those who do well, and a terror
to the evil."
"Better," replied Winthrop, "is the humble cottage than the lordly
structure whereunto your poetical and extravagant politeness hath
likened me. Remember," he added, with a smile, wherein there was some
bitterness mingled with its melancholy, for he had of late been
annoyed by the rougher nature of Dudley, and the jealousy of some of
the Assistants, "_altoe turres cadunt dum humiles casoe stant_."
"Noble sir," said Sir Christopher, "be not cast down. The foundations
of your house are built upon a basis too broad and firm to be blown
down by the disorderly breaths of lackeys and trencher-scrapers.
Pardon me, if in my zeal I apply ignominious terms to your enemies."
"There be those to be ranked in that category who yet in no wise
deserve such epithets," answered the generous Governor. "Were
opposition to come only from so base a quarter, little should I heed,
and rather consider it an incitement to keener action; but there are
also choice spirits, elect vessels, pillars of the congregation, men
inspired with godly zeal, who are persuaded themselves, and would
persuade others, that I am lukewarm in the cause, and bear the sword
in vain."
"If the peevish captiousness of these persons is greatly to influence,
I will not say over-awe you, noble sir," said Sir Christopher, "I
tremble lest the errand of mercy whereon I come should fail of its
purpose."
"Ever true to the principle of the [Greek: Melissa]," said the
Governor, smiling "what can the Knight of the Golden Melice crave
which John Winthrop can deny?"
The Knight of the Golden [Greek: Melissa], or Melice, as he was
commonly called, meaning thereby the Knight of the Golden Honey-Bee,
and who, by wearing conspicuously about his person the device or badge
adopted when he received the order of knighthood, only complied with
the fantastic notions of the times, gazed a moment at the figure of
the bee on the handle of his sword, before replying:
"The golden bee does indeed remind me," he said, "that even as he, in
the summer of his days, collects the yellow treasure which is to
sustain him in the death of winter, so should I, while the day is
mine, be busy to perform the will of Him who hath called me to a post
in his creation, that I be not ashamed in the grave. I came to ask a
favor in behalf of the soldier Philip Joy."
The eyes of Winthrop, which, while the knight was speaking, had been
fastened on his face, fell upon the rich Turkey carpet that, with its
intricate figures and varied dies, covered, in place of a modern
cloth, the table supporting the desk whereat he had been writing.
"The soldier," he said, sit last, slowly, "is enduring the punishment
awarded to him by the Court of Assistants."
"A harsh and cruel sentence," said the knight, "and one at the
infliction whereof I know your noble nature relucted."
"I may not, without censure of my own conscience, hear those who are
associated with me in the government blamed."
"I would not trespass on the bounds of courteous license, but cannot
believe that your gentle temper approves of proceedings at once severe
and impolitic."
"It becomes me not," said Winthrop, modestly, "to set up my sentiments
against the opinion of a majority. This is not the government of one
man, and I am, as I may say, it being properly understood, only
_primus inter pares_."
"Then avouch yourself to some purpose to be truly primus, and by your
kingly mercy not only put to silence the unruly tongues of men
complaining of harshness not without reason, but also take away the
occasion for reproach."
"Hitherto," said Winthrop, "you have spoken in riddles, though they
are not hard to be guessed; but, nevertheless, let me entreat you to
explicate, in plainer phrase, your meaning, and reveal your full
desire."
"I came, then," answered the knight, "to solicit the full pardon of
Joy."
"It may not be. Though the right to pardon would seem inherent in him
to whose hands is entrusted the power to punish, that the sorrow of
inflicting pain might be balanced by the joy of conferring pleasure,
and so his office be not wholly converted into that of an executioner,
yet were I ever so much disposed, I could not, in the present case,
grant your request. It would raise a storm which, however little to be
regarded for its consequences to myself, might be seriously injurious
to the budding interests of our infant state."
"I pray you to consider," said the knight, "the good character of the
man accused, ever approving himself brave and faithful in all trusts
confided to him; no drone, but an active honey-bee, laying up store in
your hive, with no fault charged but speaking too freely, and if that
be true, only imitating therein, his betters. Next reflect upon the
opposite reputation of his accusers, and I venture to say malingers,
though in truth there is but one, not sustained by the other. Men are
murmuring at your sentence, and holding your justice for naught, a
sure presage of troublous times; and be assured, that a commonwealth
not founded in righteousness cannot stand, for on it rests not the
blessing of Heaven."
"Sir Christopher Gardiner," said Winthrop, "you have spoken boldly,
and but that I believe in your honesty, and am assured of your
friendship, I should be offended. But you belong not to the
congregation, your notions differing from our faith; the light which
illuminates the minds of the chosen remnant which Providence hath
planted in this far off land, this ultissima Thule, not yet having
penetrated your understanding; Your freedom of speech, therefore,
because in favor of mercy, shall not prejudice, though it might injure
you were it to reach the ears of some of whom we wot. But know, Sir
Christopher, that your zeal makes you unjust, and that you have
defamed a God fearing Commonwealth, and one in covenant with God. Not
without His guidance did we trust ourselves to a waging sea, calmed
for our sake by His breath; and not without His inspiration are we
building up a State, after His own divine model, which shall be the
admiration of the world. The kings of the earth may rise up, and the
heathen rage, and the people imagine a vain thing; but know, Sir
Christopher, that the gates of hell shall not prevail against us."
As the usually calm Winthrop concluded his prophecy, he smote the
table with his hand, as if to give emphasis to his words.
"My wise, and prudent, and most valued friend," said Sir Christopher,
rising and approaching the Governor, "pardon me, if with sacrilegious,
though unwitting hand, I have touched the sacred ark of your faith.
But I were meaner than a stock or a stone; I were duller than an
insensible clod; I were worse than an idolatrous heathen or a beast,
if I were unwilling to encounter any danger, even to the hazard of
losing your friendship, for the sake of a man, who, at the risk of his
own life, saved mine."
"I heard not of your debt before," said Winthrop.
"It was in Moldavia, on the bloody field of Choczim, where the Poles
defeated the Turks. I was then but a stripling, and the impetuosity of
youth, or the fiery temper of my horse, had borne me in advance of my
friends, when I was surrounded by the infidels and hard bested, and my
life beyond peradventure had paid the penalty of my rashness, and my
bones been left cleaned by the wolf's teeth to whiten on the sand, but
for this valiant soldier. Disregarding danger, he leaped among the
foe, and so lustily plied his blows, that together we bore the turbans
down, until his bridle-hand was struck. Then was it time to fall back,
for verily we had need of both hands, with the one to guide out
horses, and with the other to defend our heads. I seized his rein, and
with our flashing swords, side by side, we fought our way through the
throng. Judge, then, if I were not an ingrate to forget the service."
"It is a pity, for the sake of the prisoner," said Winthrop, "that
either Standish or Endicott is not in my place: a tale of daring were
sure to win their ears, and upon its recital, the cause were as good
as gained; but much as I admire the valor of the soldier and respect
your feelings, I, who was bred a lawyer, and not a warrior, see not
therein a motive to grant your request."
"If friendship for me, and personal merit in the man, avail not to
move you, at least listen to the voice of humanity. You intend not
surely to murder him."
"What?" exclaimed Winthrop. "Speak plainer, Sir Christopher."
"I say, honored sir, that the treatment of this Joy, for an offence
which can rank as a crime only by reason of some peculiarity in your
situation, justifying extraordinary severity, is unworthy of you as
the Vicegerent of his Majesty in this colony.
"Methinks," said Winthrop, coldly and formally, "you have already, in
other phrase, said the same thing."
"But I aver now that this hapless, and, but for me, unfriended man,
(alas that my influence in his behalf is less than nought,) is likely
to escape the greater part of his sentence, by perishing on your
hands, if not soon released from confinement."
"Is he ill?"
"Ill unto death. I fear. Surely you cannot be acquainted with the
cruelties practised upon him. I have not beholden them with mine own
eyes; but my knowledge is this--as soon as I heard of Philip's
misfortune, in whom, why I feel an interest you now know, I hastened
to his prison, and there, with some difficulty learned, that not only
is he manacled, and his ancles chained, but also is confined by a band
of iron around his body, to a post erected in the centre of his
dungeon, so as to be unable to lie down, under a pretext of the
desperation of the man and the weakness of his dungeon."
"Believe me, Sir Christopher, I knew not this; but the thing shall be
looked into, and if there be no error in your information, I will
venture to brave the resentment of my colleagues and the rest, and
release this Joy for the present, taking such order in other respects
that the remaining sentence of the Court shall not remain a nullity."
"I pray you, excellent sir, of your bounty, to be speedy in the
inquiry into this matter," urged the knight, "being well assured that
you will find my information verified."
"Rest satisfied with my peremptory promise," replied Winthrop. "And
now, Sir Christopher, that this business which you have so much at
heart is in a fair train to arrive at a result to content you, tell me
something of your doings at the Mount of Promise, as it is your
pleasure to call your retirement. How fares it with your kinswoman,
the lady Geraldine? Time, I trust, doth blunt the edge of her
melancholy."
"Alas, no! she still continues to grieve with an unreasonable grief.
Time brings no balm."
"It should not be so. The sooner we become reconciled to the
afflictive dispensations of Providence (under which I understand she
suffers,) the better for both soul's and body's health."
"There are some natures, whereupon, when an impression is once made,
it is not readily effaced, and the lady Geraldine's is such. Yet do I
not despair of her restoration to tranquillity."
"I must request godly Mr. Eliot to visit her. There is no soother so
effectual as the soft voice of the Gospel. But for yourself, Sir
Christopher, tire you not of the monotony of your forest life?"
"So far therefrom, I love it hourly more. My early days were wild and
stormy, of some particulars whereof I have possessed you; and although
I have not reached my meridian, yet am I satiated with vanity. I am
like a ship, whose tempest-beaten sides rest sweetly in a haven. As
contentedly she hears the winds howling without, so I listen from afar
to the uproar of the world, and pleased, contrast my calm therewith."
"Man was not made for inaction," said Winthrop.
"I shun no honorable labor. Instruct me how to be useful to the little
State which enjoys the happiness to call you father and ruler, and no
toil or danger but shall be welcome."
"You know there is but one difficulty that stands in your way to
occupy the position due to both your rank and merit."
A shadow passed over the face of the knight.
"We will not speak thereof," he said. "When I offered to join the
congregation, who would have thought that so trifling a difference
could close your bosoms against me?"
"Call not the difference slight, nor our bosoms closed," answered
Winthrop; "but I trust that further reflection, your spirit being
lighted by beams of grace, will convince you that in our exposition we
erred not."
At this moment a slight rustling was heard at the other end of the
apartment, and the knight turning, beheld a man having the appearance
of a servant advancing.
"How now, sirrah," cried Winthrop, "what means this intrusion?"
"I thought I heard the Governor call," said the man.
"I called not," said Winthrop; "but being here, bring refreshments.
His presence opportunely reminds me," he added, turning to the knight,
"of my breach of hospitality, occasioned by my interest in the
conversation."
In a short time the servant returned bearing a silver salver, on which
were placed wine and a venison pasty, (for the robuster appetites of
our ancestors would have scorned more delicate viands,) which he
placed on a sideboard.
Before the knight addressed himself to the pasty, which he soon did,
with an appetite sharpened by his morning ride, he filled two goblets
with wine, and presenting one to his host, begged to pledge him in a
health to the prosperity of the infant Commonwealth.
"The building up of our Zion lies nearest my heart, and unceasingly do
my prayers ascend on her behalf," answered Winthrop; "but--think me
not discourteous--I may not, without sin, comply with your request in
the drinking of healths."
"How!" exclaimed the knight, "is there any forbidding thereof in Holy
Scripture?"
"Nay, I find no interdiction therein, but manifold cause in the reason
of the thing itself for the suppressing of a vain custom. Thus do I
argue: Every empty and ineffectual representation of serious things is
a way of vanity. But this custom is such; for it is intended to hold
forth love and wishes of health, which are serious things, by
drinking, which neither in the nature nor use it is able to effect,
for it is looked at as a mere compliment, and is not taken as an
argument of love, which ought to be unfeigned. Or the same proposition
may be proved diversely, as thus: To employ the custom, out of its
natural use, without warrant of authority, necessity or conveniency,
is a way of vanity. But this custom doth. Or, again; such a resolution
as frees a man from frequent and needless temptations, to dissemble
love, _et cetera_, (quatenus it doth so,) is a wholesome resolution.
But this resolution doth. _Ergo_, Sir Christopher, pray have me (with
protestation of no discourtesy) excused."
"Although your scruples appear strange, yet will I respect them, my
honored host, as it becomes me to, any opinion entertained by you,"
replied the knight; "but if the tongue be tied, the spirit, at least,
is free to indulge in wishes for your welfare."
So saying, he raised the goblet to his lips, and drained it of its
contents. Nor did the Governor, though refusing to join in the idle
custom of drinking healths, which, by his influence, had been pretty
generally banished from the tables of the principal inhabitants,
decline a draught, therein bearing in mind the advice of Paul to
Timothy, and considering it an allowable solace and strengthener to
enable him the better to bear the cares of state. Upon the conclusion
of the interview, the knight courteously took leave, after thanking
the Governor for his promise in behalf of the imprisoned soldier, and,
mounting his horse, returned the way he came.
When he was gone, Winthrop fell into a fit of musing.
"What am I to think of this man?" (such was the tenor of his
reflections.) "Is he what he appears? Doth the garniture of his spirit
conform to the polished and attractive surface? Is he, as sometimes
from his language might be surmised, one who, though young in years,
is old in experience, and hath already discovered how unsatisfactory
are the vanities of the world? There be such men in these strange
days. And yet, how wonderfully hath he preserved his cheerfulness, and
though chastened, is not cast down! That he hath been a cavalier, I
plainly see, and he doth admit; that he is fit at present to be one of
us, I doubt; that he will be, I hope. The jealous Dudley, the
suspicious Endicott, and the subtle Spikeman, are disposed to regard
him as one who, under the mask of an angel of light, doth conceal
dangerous designs; as a plotter of mischief; some cunning tool of our
enemies, who have sent him hither to creep into our confidence, that
he may the better detect our weakness and confound our plans. I cannot
harbor these latter notions. There is that about the knight which
gives the lie to suspicion. Who can look upon his noble countenance
and listen to the tones of his sincere voice, and not be satisfied of
his truth? Did he not, on his arrival, communicate to me his views,
which, however romantic, are consistent both with the training of his
previous life and the change which hath been effected in his feelings?
And doubtful myself, lest the gracious impression he made upon me
might pervert my judgment, did I not set a watch upon his motions, and
find them all to harmonize with his frank and gallant bearing? I see
no cause to alter my conduct or withdraw my confidence. Yet will I be
guarded in our intercourse. If I err, it shall be on the side of
prudence; but this matter whereunto he hath called my attention, shall
forthwith be searched. It were shame if the cruelty whereof he
complains has been practised. Ah me, the eye of the ruler cannot be
everywhere! There be those who already term our justice tyranny, and
who would be glad to be furnished with another occasion of complaint.
Nor can I conceal from myself that the sentence of the soldier is
harsh. It was against both my feeling and my judgment. How often am I
compelled to practise a severity over which my softer, and perhaps
weaker nature, mourns!"