"There have been holy men who hid themselves
Deep in the woody wilderness."
BRYANT.
Arundel had now an opportunity to look round and observe the state of
things. Besides the Knight and himself, there were seven or eight
Indians in the little cavern, armed with bows and arrows; and he
remarked with pleasure that these persons were not stained with
war-paint, indicating that they were on no hostile expedition, but
engaged in hunting. So far from offering violence, or even rudeness,
the savages treated them with marked deference, keeping at a
respectful distance, and yielding to them the piles of hemlock
branches which they had arranged for couches. Arundel listened to the
conversation between the Knight and the Indians with that strained
attention with which one unacquainted with a language will sometimes
hang upon its sounds, as if by a concentration of the faculties to
wring a sense out of it; and if he was unable to make out the meaning
of the words, he at least satisfied himself, both from the intonation
of the voices and expression of the faces, that no immediate injury
was designed. To the appealing looks which Arundel from time to time
directed to him, the Knight at length replied:
"I know not, Master Arundel, whether we should consider ourselves more
fortunate or the contrary, in falling into the hands of these
copper-colored cavaliers. We are their prisoners, and, as such, bound
to obey their motions; but their presence will guard us from attack,
and in that way be a shield; and their treatment in other respects
will shame, I doubt not, the conduct of more civilized men in like
circumstances."
"Know you," inquired Arundel, "the name of their tribe, and their
intentions towards us?"
"They are Taranteens, and, as far as I can learn, mean to take us to
one of their villages. It was fortunate your shot took not effect;
for, otherwise, I know not what would have been the consequence."
"I confess now its rashness; but it is manifest that we were tracked,
and, in any event, would have been prisoners."
"Perhaps not prisoners. Perhaps, after making our acquaintance, they
would have offered us their company as an escort. As it is, we must
submit to close watchfulness on our journey, and, afterwards, take
what fate may come. I counsel thee (and speak as one knowing the
habits of these people) to betray no distrust or apprehension. We must
show that we rely with perfect assurance on our character as
ambassadors, not only for immunity from danger, but for courteous
treatment. And now," he added, disposing himself to rest, "we had
better court that sleep which will be so necessary to prepare us for
the fatigues of to-morow."
Arundel followed his example, and, as if it had been a signal for the
Indians, they all left the cave, with the exception of two, who
stretched themselves out by the fire at the mouth.
It was long after it had fallen upon the lids of Sir Christopher, that
sleep visited the eyes of Arundel; but tired nature at last yielded to
the solicitations of the drowsy influence, and he forgot both his joys
and his sorrows.
When he awoke, the daylight was streaming into his retreat, and,
sitting up on the hemlock boughs, he looked around. The couch of Sir
Christopher was deserted, and no Indian visible. Wondering what had
become of them, he rose and walked to the entrance, and beheld
standing on the margin of the brook, the Knight in conversation with
the savage, who, the night before, appeared to be the leader of the
party. They were so interested with their subject as not to notice his
presence, and he had an opportunity to observe their bearing to one
another. To judge from that, the Knight looked to Arundel more like a
conqueror than a captive, and rather giving than receiving orders. The
attitude of Sir Christopher was commanding, and he engrossed the
principal part of the conversation. From the frequency with which it
was repeated, Arundel, as he fancied, could make out one word, which
sounded like "Mesandowit," but its meaning he was unable to divine. He
stood looking at them until the Indian discovered him, who,
ejaculating the word "ahque," (beware) the Knight turned and also saw
him.
"Thy appearance dispenses with the necessity of asking how thou hast
passed the night, Master Arundel," cried Sir Christopher. "Well, there
is nothing like a trust in Providence, whereto I commend thee, to
inspire with courage. Courage may, in a certain sense, be said to be
piety."
"Truly, Sir Christopher," said Arundel, catching confidence from the
cheerful tone of the Knight, "I begin to regard thee as a sort of
Providence, for wherever you move, you seem to exercise a command. Now
would I give something to know the secret whereby you have tamed yon
savage."
"It is no astonishing mystery. I did but elucidate to him clearly our
sacred character and thy mistake in firing."
"Is he content with the explanation?"
"He seems to be. The natives are not so unreasonable as is sometimes
represented. Difficulties between men do often arise from an ignorance
of each others intentions; and one grand cause of contention is,
doubtless, an inability to comprehend their diverse languages. Now, I
suffer under no such disability. I can impart my ideas, and receive
their own in return, and thus is language a bridge of reconciliation
betwixt us. Believe me--a common cord vibrates through the hearts and
minds of all men, and skilful words are the fingers wherewith to touch
it."
"Thou art a skilful musician in more than one sense," said Arundel, as
he turned to the brook to wash his hands and face.
No very strict, certainly not obtrusive surveillance, was exercised by
the Taranteens over their captives. They were allowed to move about
where they pleased, and their escort began to assume the appearance of
a guard of honor, rather than a band of suspicious enemies; nor did
the savages seem at all disposed to hurry, or take any measures to
prevent a surprise, feeling, probably, a consciousness of security in
being on their own hunting grounds. Their breakfast, of which the two
white men partook with them, was leisurely prepared, and eaten with
equal deliberation, and the sun was high when they resumed their
journey. All these circumstances were noticed by Arundel, and tended
to increase his confidence. However, he made no remark respecting
them.
But when, soon after the commencement of their march, their guns were
returned, he could not forbear from uttering his surprise.
"They know not how to use the weapon," replied Sir Christopher, "and
it suits them not to carry loads not their own. Besides, I have
pledged our honors that the pieces shall not be used against them.
Methinks, moreover, were we inclined to play false, it were fruitless,
in view of their superior number."
Nothing of importance occurred during the couple of days longer their
journey lasted, and before it was completed, both the prisoners lost
all apprehension of violence. They were even permitted to shoot the
game which was started, and the Indians manifested no little pleasure
when the shots proved successful. They watched closely the loading of
the pieces and priming, and the manner in which the lock trigger was
raised, and sometimes took the guns into their own hands, and brought
them up to the shoulder, as they had seen the white men do, as if
desirous to be taught their use. Something also, in reference to the
subject, they said to the Knight, but he shook his head, and showed no
disposition to instruct them. An unlucky experiment made with the
piece of Sir Christopher, by one of the Taranteens, at length put an
end to their importunities.
The Indian took the gun, after he had seen it loaded by Sir
Christopher, and imitating his actions, discharged it at a bird
sitting on a bough, at no great distance.
He had failed to remark that the Knight placed the piece firmly
against his shoulder when it was fired, and ignorant of the propriety
of doing so, held it with a natural feeling of timidity at a little
distance from his body. The consequence was, that the recoil
prostrated the savage on his back, and the gun dropped from his hands,
while the fortunate bird seemed to deride the unskilful marksman, and
to challenge him to another trial, by paying no other heed than
hopping on another bough. His companions gathered round the fallen
savage, and two or three took hold of the white men, as if to prevent
escape; but when they saw no wound upon his person, nor expression of
pain in his face, (for the pride of the unfortunate warrior forbade
the betrayal of what he felt,) their words of sympathy and intentions
of revenge were converted into jeers and laughter. As for the unlucky
fellow himself, on rising from the ground, he retreated a little way
from the gun, and regarding it with a look, wherein awe and aversion
were combined, took care not to approach nigh to it again.
On the evening of the seventh day after their departure, they
approached the village of the Taranteens. The whole company halted at
a little distance from it, and the returning Indians shouted a
peculiar cry, after which they proceeded more leisurely on their way.
The yell had been heard and understood, for soon were seen advancing,
groups of men, women, and children. These, upon joining their friends,
manifested none of that stolid indifference, which it has been the
pleasure of certain writers to ascribe to the natives, forgetting that
by nature the same feelings animate the hearts of all men, whatever
may be the degree of their civilization, or the color of their skin.
On the contrary, there were smiling faces and tones of welcome, and
other demonstrations, that proved the existence of affection. The
squaws and children looked askance at the strangers, but their glances
were rather timid than obtrusive, and augured no unfavorable
prepossessions. Accompanied by a constantly increasing number, our
friends were conducted to a lodge in the centre of the village, which
they were told they would occupy during their stay. It was carefully
covered with bark, and, as usual, skins were hanging on the sides, and
lying on the ground for couches, and there were some cooking utensils,
made of clay, on one side. Such were all the articles constituting the
simple _ménage_ of the child of nature, and completed his idea of
necessary furniture. Here the strangers were left by their guides,
though several of the tribe remained lingering around the wigwam.
"Thus far," said the Knight, stretching himself out on a skin, for in
whatever circumstances he might be placed, he was always at his ease,
"hath heaven breathed favoring airs into our sails. We will accept the
omen and be hopeful for the future."
"No more skilful ambassador, it seems to me," said Arundel, "ever
mediated betwixt mighty governments than thyself, Sir Christopher.
Why, Ephraim Pike was right, and I did injustice to his hang-dog look
when I distrusted him."
"What said he?" inquired the Knight.
"That our journey would be a mere pleasure flight, unattended with
danger."
"He would have found it different had he undertaken it," muttered Sir
Christopher. "And was it Ephraim who advised thee to associate thyself
with me?"
"He did not presume to advise. I scarcely know how it happened, but as
I accidentally met the man, the conversation turned upon thy
enterprise, of the dangers whereof he made light."
"There is some mystery," said the Knight, "connected with this. Be
sure the obscure varlet would not have sought thee out for such a
purpose of his own motion, but was instigated thereto by another."
"Who could that be, and with what motive?"
"Nay, I judge no man; but, perhaps, it so happened that they who
intended harm conferred a favor."
At this moment they saw approaching through the opening in the lodge a
couple of squaws, bearing in their hands earthen pots, from which a
warm steam was issuing. These they brought straight into the wigwam,
and, placing them before the white men, invited them to eat. After a
few words from the Knight, which the smiling faces of the women showed
were well received, they retired, and the two friends addressed
themselves to a business seldom disagreeable, and specially pleasant
to them. In the one vessel they found pieces of broiled venison, and
in the other a composition at that time peculiar to the Indians, but
which has since become a favorite in New England, and still retains
its Indian name of "succotash." It is a dish consisting of sweet corn
and beans boiled together, and savored with some kind of meat,
according to the taste. The meat preferred by the vitiated taste of
the whites is pork; but inasmuch as swine were unknown at the time in
the country, except in the civilized settlements--the unclean animal
having been introduced by the Europeans--its place in the present
instance was supplied by the more wholesome bear's meat, for such the
experienced palate of the Knight pronounced it to be. At the
completion of the meal, although it was early according to our habits,
the unbroken silence that reigned around indicated that the Indians
had retired to rest, and the two weary travelers, imitating their
example, threw themselves on their couches.
Some hours had passed since they laid themselves down to sleep, when
the Knight arose, and, after glancing at his companion, started, with
a light and noiseless step, to leave the wigwam. At the opening he
found a Taranteen, whom his stirring had wakened. With him the Knight
exchanged some whispered words, and then took his way in the moonlight
toward a lodge situated near the centre of the village, and
conspicuous for its size. He met no interruption, and having arrived
at the entrance, drew aside the skin which served for a door. The
first object which caught his eye was a flame proceeding from some
pieces of a resinous wood, which were supported by a sort of iron
trestle standing on a rude table in the centre, and sending up spirals
of smoke to escape by an aperture above. By means of the light which
this cast, he was enabled to take a view of the apartment.
It was of an oblong shape, some forty feet long by twenty wide, and
coming to a line at the top, and at first seemed destitute of
furniture and of occupants. As the Knight stood hesitating, a voice
from the remotest part of the wigwam addressed him.
"Welcome!" it said, in French, "true son of the Church! valiant
soldier of the Cross! servant of Heaven! My soul hath been in travail
to see thee; and now, _laus Deo_, its desire is gratified."
The Knight advanced in the direction whence the voice proceeded, and
when he had passed on so far that his back was to the light, could see
the speaker. He was one who, whatever were the mistakes of his creed,
seems to have been animated by a purpose lofty to himself, and an
ardent faith in its truth, and, therefore, honor be to his memory, as
well as to all other brave spirits, who, like him, (though erring,)
forget themselves for others. But he is worthy of description.
He was a man of about sixty years of age, somewhat under the middle
size, but strongly made, and evidently capable of enduring great
fatigue. His eyes were black and piercing, his complexion so dark as
to be almost olive, and his features regular, the mouth being small
and sharply chiseled and compressed. Thick, long, white hair covered
his whole head, with the exception of a small round spot on the crown
which was bare, revealing the mark of the priest, and fell upon his
shoulders. He was habited in a long, closely-fitting robe of some
coarse material, which had once been black, but was now faded and
tarnished by time and exposure, and a hempen rope to keep it in place
was girded about his loins. Such, as we have described him, was the
famous Father Le Vieux, one of the most active and devoted among the
French Jesuits in America.
Father Le Vieux had risen from his seat, and was advancing toward his
visiter, when the latter first beheld him. As the two men drew nigh,
the Knight sunk on his knees at the feet of the priest.
"_Salve fili mi!_" said the father, laying his hands on the head of
the kneeling Sir Christopher. "_Beatus qui venit in nomine Domini_.
Arise, my son!" he continued, in French, taking the Knight by the
hand, and assisting him. "Thy companion, I trust, sleeps soundly."
"He is asleep, reverend father," answered the Knight, in the same
language, "like one who has made a covenant with his eyes not to open
them before morning."
"May the blessed angels press their palms thereupon, that he awaken
not. Now, then, disclose to me what, for our mutual purpose, it is
meet that I should know."
With these words, he led the way into that part of the lodge whence he
came, and was followed by Sir Christopher, who sat down by his side on
a sort of bench.
"First, reverend father," said Sir Christopher, "would I confess my
sins and obtain absolution. It is long since my bosom's stains were
wiped out by authority of Holy Church, and my soul languishes for
forgiveness."
"Kneel, then, and on peril of thy salvation keep nothing back."
Sir Christopher, with bowed head, knelt by his side, and, in
low-murmured tones, while the priest bowed down to him his ear, made
his confession. It lasted some considerable time, for which reason the
good father betrayed a little impatience, either because he thought
that the sins were too trivial to be dwelt upon so long, or because he
was anxious to hear the communication of his penitent on other
matters. At its conclusion, he placed his hand on the Knight's head,
and said:
"The sins which, with a penitent heart and lively faith, thou hast
confessed, not having wilfully concealed anything, and determined by
God's grace to commit them no more, do I, a servant of Holy Church,
commissioned for that purpose by the successor of blessed St. Peter,
whose are the sacred keys, and unto whom and his fellow-servants it
was promised by the Head of the Church, 'whatsoever ye bind on earth
shall be bound in Heaven, and whatsoever ye loose on earth shall be
loosed in Heaven,' absolve thee from, and unbind and remit unto thee,
both in time and in eternity, _in nomine Patris, Filii, et Spiritus
Sancti_. Amen. Rise and sin no more. And now, make thy report."
The Knight rose from his knees and resumed his seat, whereupon ensued
a long conversation.
It referred to the condition of the colony under Winthrop, and of the
elder settlement at Plymouth; the prospect of their increase; the
dissensions among them; the relations maintained with the savages, and
influence exerted over them; and, in short, to whatever bore upon the
present circumstances and probable destiny of the two races. The
occurrences at the reception of the Taranteen embassy were also
detailed--the appearance of Sassacus, the excitement of the Indians,
and the consequences which followed.
"I found it hard," said Sir Christopher, "to allay their wild passion
on the discovery of the Pequot Chief. I had to urge upon them that
they were committed to my care by you (I had before received your
missive from one of them) and that instant destruction would follow
any act of violence. I reminded them that their mission was one of
peace, and endeavored to shame them for exhibiting so much feeling at
the sight of a single warrior. Nor was I blinded by their apparent
submission, but strove to remove the Pequot out of their way. With how
little success you know."
Father Le Vieux listened with profound attention, and from time to
time made memoranda in his tablets of those parts of the communication
which possessed for him the deepest interest. At its conclusion, he
continued silent awhile, looking thoughtfully on the ground, as if
deliberating over what he had heard.
"The thoughts of man are vanity," he said, at length. "In a way that
we dreamed not of hath Almighty Wisdom delivered us from this peril.
Vainly, in our ignorance, we strove to prevent a meeting between the
Taranteens and the English heretics; and lo, it was the very thing to
be desired! They were brought together only to be more widely divided,
and a commencing friendship has ended in a confirmed enmity. Blessed
be the Pequot, and mitigated be the pains of purgatory to the poor
savages who fell in the night attack, for the good they have done. We
are now safe from this danger."
The father paused, as if reflecting, and then again spoke.
"It would be strange," he said, "and the thought itself seems impious,
if this goodly land, with its thousands of immortal souls, should be
delivered over into the hands of these accursed heretics. My heart is
troubled, and a sacred horror invades me when I think thereupon. This
is a time of tribulation, and our faces gather blackness. Holy Mary!"
he continued, (crossing himself and raising his eyes to Heaven,)
"intercede with thy glorified Son to quicken our faith and shorten the
days of our trouble. Let not these insatiable locusts from the pit of
darkness, whose end is destruction--these deceivers and deceived, who
would tear down thy church, and defile her altars, have, even in
seeming, their will! O, let a strong wind arise and cast them into the
sea, that they may devour thy heritage no more!"
"Amen, and Amen!" responded the sweet voice of Sir Christopher. "So
may all the enemies of the church perish! But O, holy father, sad is
it to see so much heroism in men, so much resigned fortitude in
delicate women, such wonderful courage, such patience wasted, in
promoting error."
"_Quam diu Domine!_" exclaimed the father. "The days of man are but as
a shadow and a tale that is told. He cometh out of darkness, and
returneth thither again. But thy years, O Lord, are everlasting, and
thy counsels like the great deep. O, stamp this truth on our hearts,
and it shall cure our impatience. How long Divine Wisdom shall permit
the raging waves of this pestilential heresy of the arch-deceiver, the
licentious Luther, to beat against His church, threatening as with the
jaws of hell to devour her, it is not for man to know; but we do know
that they cannot prevail, for she is founded on a rock, and bought
with a great ransom, and the Word of God is pledged to her triumph.
But it becomes every true son of Holy Church to have his loins girded,
and to let no weakness of the flesh or fainting of the spirit
interfere, to delay that hoped-for time when this miserable delusion
shall disappear. Verily, heavy is the task imposed on feeble
shoulders; but in the strength of One who can supply strength, will we
prevail."
"Has any information," inquired Sir Christopher, "been received
respecting the new colony to be planted under Lord Baltimore, in
Maryland, or promise of assistance from our friends at home?"
"The English Catholics," answered Father Le Vieux, "are lukewarm. The
air of their foggy isle is tainted. Not much do I expect from this
Cecil, Lord Baltimore. He is, forsooth, a philosopher--a man who
stands half the time upon his head--for he is one of them who are
puffed up with conceit of worldly knowledge, and who, in contradiction
of Holy Scripture, assert, with Galileo Galilei, that this world is a
ball which daily turns round. His company has not arrived, and never
may arrive. Not on the timorous and doubting English Catholics, but on
my own brave countrymen and the faithful Spaniards, must we rely for
the accomplishment of the heaven-inspired thought of our great
founder, the immortal Loyola."
"Expect you," inquired Sir Christopher, "to convert these English
colonies into dependencies of France or Spain?"
"To you and to me, and every true Catholic, it is of little
consequence whether they be French, or Spanish, or English colonies,
so they be gathered into the bosom of Mother Church. Of how little
moment are the transitory things of time, our poor distinctions of
nationalities, our weak prejudices, our loves and hates, in comparison
with eternity and its determinations. Then, in that other world, there
will be neither French, nor English, nor Spanish, but 'the blessed of
the Father,' to enter the kingdom prepared for them; or howling
heretics, whose doom is fire unquenchable."
"Holy Father," said the Knight, "I pray you to forgive me; but, in my
ignorance, I by no means approve of your design, nor have I confidence
in its success. Consider the consequence, should even a suspicion of
it be entertained by the Government of England. These colonies are now
regarded as only nests of wild sectaries, who have fled from restraint
at home to indulge fanatical imaginations in a wilderness. At present,
they are neglected and despised by the general, none, save those of
their own infatuated faith, thinking of, or countenancing them; but,
let it be once surmised that France or Spain is attempting, either by
fraud or violence, to set foot among them, and you will see the whole
force of the kingdom in arms to counteract your plot, and thousands of
heretic emigrants will arrive, where now only a few make their
appearance."
"My son, it is easier to crush error in the egg than in the full-grown
serpent. But forget you not that you are only a secular coadjutor, and
therefore bound simply to obey?"
"_Peccavi_," said the Knight, bending his head.
"_Absolvo_. I espied this weakness in the confession of sins, and now
solemnly warn thee against it. Attend, my son, and be my words
remembered. I perceive in thee a jealousy of the political power of
other nations, when they conflict with thine own. This, to the
untutored mind of the vulgar, seems commendable, yet do I reprehend
it, and say unto it, '_Apage, Sathanas!_' as the fruitfull seed of
discord betwixt nations, and an impediment in the march of the Church.
As high as the concerns of Heaven transcend those of earth, do the
interests of the true and universal Church those of the petty kingdoms
which, for their own good, she subjects to her control. They are not
to be thought of when her magnificent voice is heard. Who is it speaks
from the chair of St. Peter, but the Vicegerent of God? Who is
Vitalleschi, our chief, but another accredited instrument to
accomplish the salvation of the nations? And if it be the duty of
every Catholic to set the welfare of the Church before all other
considerations, and to die a thousand deaths before abandoning it, how
much more is it the life-business of each member of the Society of
Jesus to sacrifice all things for her! Power, wealth, fame, life, and
honor, which some value more than life, what are they all when weighed
against that one duty and the reward that awaits its observance? The
principles of the blessed Company of Jesus are not the crude fancies
of some crazy heretic, nor suggestions of man's unguided reason, but
they are conclusions of wise men inspired by the Holy Spirit, and
infallibly directed to truth! Such thou and I have acknowledged them
to be by becoming members of the Order, and thereby assuming its
obligations. My faith burns daily brighter--each obstacle but inflames
my zeal. If, by my martyrdom, I could advance our cause one hour, how
gladly would I lay down a life worthless, if not spent in the service
of the Church."
Father Le Vieux paused, his fine face beaming with enthusiasm, while
the Knight bent again his head, and, kissing the priest's hand,
murmured "_Peccavi_."
"Thy faithfulness I commend," resumed the father, "but as thy
spiritual guide, I warn thee against human weakness. It is a mighty
discourager of great undertakings. Only by faith and remembrance of
what thou art vowed to, can it be overcome. Nor doubt, though thou
dost not clearly understand, and but little progress seems to be made.
Remember that though we must soon depart, the Society of Jesus
remains. Our Order may be as the drops of water perpetually falling on
a rock, which are dashed into fragments by the fall; yet is the fate
of the repelling body inevitable, and, after centuries, it is doomed
to be washed away."
"Reverend Father," said the Knight, "I will bury thy words, in my
mind, and often meditate upon them."
"Do so, my son, and by the aid of Holy Mary, and the Saints, and
blessed Evangelists, doubt not they will profit. But I charge thee to
beware of laic reason and human impulses. Refer all things to the
standard whereby thou hast been taught, for so only will it be well.
Farewell; morning approaches, and I depart, for I would not have the
presence of a white man suspected by thy companion. I will communicate
further with thee as opportunity presents, and, meanwhile, I will
consider how thy mission may be made to redound most to the honor of
the Church. If, by restraining the ferocity of the Taranteens, the end
may be accomplished, gladly will I exert my influence therefor; but,
on the contrary, if I see that a union among the tribes can be
effected, whereby these intrusive Philistines can be driven from the
land, I will put myself at the head of our savage friends, and
Winthrop and his unhappy followers shall be doomed."
He ceased, and bowed, and the Knight reverently bending his body, took
leave.