No wound, which warlike hand of enemy
Inflicts with dint of sword, so sore doth light,
As doth the poisonous sting which infamy
Infixeth in the name of noble wight;
For by no art, nor any leeches might,
It ever can recovered be again.
SPENSER'S FAERY QUEEN.
The reader is introduced, once more, into the company of the assembled
magnates of the Massachusetts Bay, in New-England, and into the same
room where we beheld them before. Governor Winthrop, upon the elevated
dais, in his elbow chair, presides, while, ranged around the central
table, is a full attendance of the Assistants. Not as before, however,
are spectators admitted. Saving the honorable Council, no person is
present, for the business before them has reference to concerns of
State, as well as to a judicial examination, and it is considered
expedient to conduct it in secrecy. The members, at the moment we
enter, are engaged in an earnest discussion, and it is the rough voice
of Deputy Governor Dudley which first salutes the ear.
"It were of little avail," he said, as if objecting to something which
had been proposed. "Let us not, like the ancient Pharisees, lay upon
the shoulders of the people burdens too heavy to be borne."
"Thy comparison," said Endicott, in reply, "is somewhat unpleasing,
and the shoe fits us not; but in vain hath been our pilgrimage hither,
if we continue to imitate the unhappy model we left behind."
"Call you," said Dudley, "the accidental shaping of a ruff, or the
manner of disposing of the folds of my galligaskins, an imitation of a
prelatical model?"
"And call you," retorted Endicott, "the requiring of people vowed to
the Lord, to dress themselves in a plain and unpretentious manner, a
burden too heavy to be borne?"
"Gentlemen," said Winthrop, "ye be both in the right, _Procul dubio_,
it becomes us, of all men, to apparel ourselves in a sober manner, as
thus protesting against the foolish vanities of the world, and yet is
it in some sort a burden, to be required to change the fashion of our
garments."
"I perceive, already, with much sadness of heart," said Endicott, "a
declension in that strictness of regimen which marked the earlier
time. Have ye not heard of the godly man who, long time, had been
prisoner at Norwich for the cause, and was by Judge Cook set at
liberty? Now, this man, desiring to go into the Low Countries by ship
from Yarmouth, did turn into the house of an ancient woman in the
city, who had been very kind and helpful to him in his sufferings, in
order to return thanks, and she knowing his voice, made him welcome.
But when he was ready to depart, she came up to him and felt of his
band, (for her eyes were dim with age,) and perceiving it was somewhat
stiffened with starch, she was much displeased, and reproved him very
sharply, fearing God would not prosper his journey. Yet was the man a
plain countryman, clad in grey russet, without either welt or guard,
(as the proverb is,) and the band he wore scarce worth three pence,
made of their own homespinning. What would such professors, if they
were now living, say to the excess of our times?"
"Thy tale," said Dudley, a little sarcastically, "reproaches thine own
band."
"I did instance this case," replied Endicott, slightly abashed, "not
as acknowledging myself literally bound to accept it as a guide for
mine own conduct, but for the wholesome admonition therein contained."
"That is to say," returned Dudley, "inasmuch as it jumps not with thy
humor, thou wilt none of it; but being fitted, as thou conceivest, to
reproach us withal, thou dost accept it." But having sufficiently
annoyed the other, he added, by way of makepeace, "there is one custom
which my soul abhors, and against the which I desire with thee, Master
Endicott, to bear my testimony, and that is the coming of women
unveiled into the congregation. I remember that the venerable Countess
of Lincoln had a falling veil to conceal her features, when she came
into the house of the Lord, to worship with his people."
In spite of himself, a smile passed over the face of Winthrop, as it
did also over those of several Assistants.
"What excites your risibles, gentlemen," asked Dudley, severely. "I
trust that I am not the subject of your mirth."
"For me, sir," said Master Simon Bradstreet, on whom the eyes of the
deputy happened to rest at the conclusion of the sentence, "if thou
desirest an answer, I will crave permission first to inquire, if this
discreet lady, who, from thy epithet, I infer to be somewhat advanced
in life, was preëminently distinguished for beauty?"
"Although of a gracious presence, I cannot say that she greatly
excelled in that respect," answered Dudley.
"Then," replied Master Bradstreet, "I see not how the view of her face
could disturb the devotions of the congregation."
"Ye smile, my masters," said Dudley, looking round, "as though ye had
me at advantage; but ye consider not the importance of the example of
a lady so high in station, and so exemplary in her Christian calling.
Not so much on account of herself, but for other's sakes, was it done
by the godly and honorable lady."
"I see no foundation therefor in Scripture," said an Assistant.
"Surely married women have no pretext to wear veils as virgins,
neither would married nor unmarried choose to do so from the example
of Tamar the wanton, nor need they do it for such purpose as Ruth did,
in her widowhood."
"We claim no certain warrant of Scripture for the practice," said
Endicott, coming up to the rescue of the deputy, "but only as being
based on the propriety and fitness of things."
"Fall you not then into the very condemnation of the Scribes and
Pharisees, who imposed upon the people burdens enjoined neither by
Moses nor the prophets?" said the same Assistant, using the deputy's
own argument.
"Nay," said Master Increase Nowell. "If we confine ourselves strictly
to what we find in the Scripture, I fear it might strike, in some
respects, at the proceedings of our government. The sounder rule, it
appears to me, is to follow Scripture as far as we may, having regard
to the difference of the circumstances."
"Such hath been our endeavor," said Endicott. "The manner of our
dealing with the vile and pernicious weed, tobacco, sufficiently
illustrates the principle of our government. The wisdom of the godly
founders of the plantation at Salem, the charge whereof was entrusted
to my weak hands, did clearly perceive the lamentable effects, both to
the souls and bodies of the users, hebetating the former, and
debauching the latter, likely to arise from an indulgence therein, and
they did therefore, both in their first and second letter of
instructions to myself and the Council, straightly enjoin that no
tobacco should be planted by any of the new planters under our
government, saving under close restrictions, and that the same might
be taken by ancient men and none other, and that privately. Now, there
were those affecting to be pinched with tender consciences, who said
that this was an infringement of their natural liberty, authorized by
no rule of Scripture, to whom we made answer that the said abominable
weed, the smoke whereof may fitly be compared to the vapor from the
bottomless pit, was not known in those primitive days, and for that
reason, no rule regarding it was to be found, showing at the same time
that other things, less objectionable, (as it would seem,) were
prohibited, and thus by parity of reasoning, establishing our point.
Concerning this matter, as I understand, there is little difference of
opinion among us, although a report hath of late reached my ears, that
certain men in high position, even elders, having become addicted to
the use thereof, are beating about for reasons to excuse their
backsliding."
"A calumny, doubtless," said Winthrop. "But touching the principle
involved in matters of government, I will deliver my opinion. Of
things coming within the scope of government, I judge there are two
classes; whereof, the one class may be said to consist of things _mala
in se_--that is, of those which, by an inner quality or essence, are
evil; and the other, of such as are _mala ab extero_, or what may be
connected with them and made evil only by a positive law of the State,
in which is vested the duty of watching over the common good. The
fantastic notions of certain libertines, who, setting at naught the
experience of the world, and fondly imagining that wisdom will die
with themselves, have insinuated a doubt of the rightful power of the
law-giver in this latter particular, I condemn, and see not how
government can exist without it. Now, as for things embraced in the
former category--such, for example, as those prohibited in the
decalogue--there can be no doubt of the duty of every Christian State
to see that the prohibition be sustained and enforced even by extreme
penalties, if otherwise the end cannot be reached. But as for those
contained in the latter category, a wide latitude of opinion may and
doth exist among brethren with regard to the extent whereunto the
Sovereign power should go in imposing restraint. Some, with queasy
consciences, are for making most of the duties of life to be
practised, whether of a civil or religious nature, and also the vices
to be avoided, matters of public enactment; while others as honestly
hold, that the cause of virtue is not thereby promoted, but that,
contrariwise, the very prohibition, when not based either on the law
of God or the plain and unequivocal reason of the thing, doth act
oft-times as a stimulus or uneasy incitement to the breach of law,
besides making men hypocrites and time-servers. I may not dilate, but
merely hint this much, not doubting that your quick-conceiving minds
have already sounded the depths of the subject. And now, touching the
matter more immediately in hand, which is the proposition of Master
Endicott concerning apparel, and also the expediency of females
wearing veils in the congregation, it seems to me to belong plainly to
things indifferent, and not to be of instant or pressing importance,
requiring present action; and as there is a difference of opinion in
the Council respecting it, I propose that it be postponed, and
meanwhile referred to the grave judgments of the elders, more
especially as the wearing of veils is a thing connected with the
assembling together of the congregation in the Lord's house."
"We are content that it should take that course," cried several
voices. And such, accordingly, was the disposition made of Master
Endicott's sumptuary motion.
"Time doth wear," said Sir Richard Saltonstall. "Were it not well to
proceed to the examination of the woman?"
"If no objection be offered, I will consider such to be your minds,"
said the Governor. A silence following, the servitor was ordered to
conduct the person calling herself Lady Geraldine De Vaux to the
presence.
While awaiting her arrival, the conversation re-commenced upon a
subject which seemed to possess peculiar interest for Endicott.
"I cannot abide it," said he to his next neighbor.
"May I inquire what excites your indignation, master Endicott?" said
Winthrop.
"The detestable fashion of wearing long hair, after the manner of
ruffians and barbarous Indians, which is beginning to invade our
Canaan, contrary to the rule of God's word, which says that it is a
shame for a man to wear long hair, and contrary also to the
commendable custom generally of all the godly of our nation, until
within these few years."
"You have flushed a new covey," said Winthrop, with a smile.
"Nay; it is a chicken of the same brood," said an Assistant.
"Call it what you will," answered Endicott. "It may be a chicken, if
you please, or a hawk, or whatever else your learnings may call it,
but I do declare and manifest my dislike and detestation of such
wearing of long hair, as against a thing uncivil and unmanly, whereby
men deform themselves, and offend sober and modest persons, and
corrupt good manners."
"This is but a thing indifferent," broke in Dudley. "It will be time
enough to think thereof, when no business of moment is before us."
"Call you that a thing indifferent," demanded Endicott, "which is
plainly reprobated in Scripture?"
"I would have you notice," answered the Deputy, "that the custom is
nowhere prohibited. The apostle doth merely speak of it as of
something contrary to usage in his days."
"Brother Dudley--Brother Dudley," said Endicott, "I read not so the
Epistle of Paul. Thus speaks he: 'Doth not nature itself teach you
that if a man have long hair it is a shame unto him?'"
"Spoke Paul in this wise," inquired Dudley, "as Paul the inspired
messenger, or as Paul the fallible man?"
"Have a care, brother Dudley," said Endicott. "These be dangerous
distinctions. What is written is written for our learning, and I will
not curiously inquire into the amount of inspiration therein, having
no gauge whereby to determine its measure."
The conversation, much to the relief of Dudley, who found himself,
somehow or other, speaking in opposition to Endicott in a matter
wherein the opinions and feelings of the two did not after all
materially differ, was here interrupted by the opening of a door and
the introduction of the lady. She was clothed entirely in black, with
a veil of the same color covering her head, and falling so low as
completely to conceal her features. With a modest mien she followed
the servitor, and, at a courteous wave of the hand and inclination of
the body from Winthrop, took a seat near the Secretary, a little aback
from the table.
"She is attired," said an Assistant to another, "as if she did divine
the thoughts of Endicott. For the sake of her veil she ought to find
favor in his eyes."
"Yet see how he doth eye her, as if his fiery glances longed to burn
up the envious screen. He would tell us, I fancy, that he confines his
rule to meetings of the congregation, and would consider it an
invasion of his Christian liberty to be denied the sight of beauty
elsewhere, to compensate his self-denial."
"Madam," said Winthrop, "it pains me and every member of the Council
that we meet under these circumstances. Let me trust that you will be
able to dispel certain suspicions, and that the frankness of your
answers to the questions to be propounded will lighten for you and
make less onerous for us the sad duty we are performing."
The lady said something in reply, but either on account of the the low
tone in which she spoke, or of the interposition of the veil, the
words were inaudible.
"I hear not what she says," cried Dudley. "Let her throw back her
veil. Master Endicott," he added, turning to the Ex-Governor of Salem,
"here hast thou evidence that thy rule is not of universal
application."
Endicott turned his steady eyes upon the Deputy, and began to caress
his chin beard with his hand, but, before he could speak, Winthrop's
voice was heard.
"Do us the favor, madam," he said, "to remove the covering from your
face."
"Allow me," said the lady, with a voice which trembled a little, "to
keep hid a face which ye would cover with shame."
"Think not so evil of us," answered Winthrop. "Nought would more glad
our hearts than your innocence."
He waited an instant, as if to see whether she would comply with his
request, and, upon her failing to do so, added, "for myself, I will
not press what I see is unpleasant."
But this concession appeared not to meet with general approval.
Murmurs circulated about the table, and presently Dudley spoke.
"It is contrary to the custom of every civilized court," he said, "to
permit a witness or an accused person to conceal his features. The
reason thereof is too patent to need explication."
"We do entreat you, madam," said Sir Richard, "to pleasure us thus
far, and to believe that no want of consideration is designed."
Again a pause followed, which was broken by the impatient Dudley.
"It were painful," he said, looking sternly at the lady, "to use
force."
"It shall not need," she replied, with a tremulous voice, which,
however, acquired steadiness as she proceeded. "I am in your power,
and will obey your commands."
So saying, without raising her eyes, she withdrew the veil, and
exposed her pale face to view. It was seen for the first time by most
of the Assistants, and it was obvious, from the whispered comments,
that no unfavorable impression had been made.
"A modest looking gentlewoman enough," quoth Sir Richard.
"Discreet in her bearing," said another.
"All is not gold that glitters," said Dudley. "The beautiful skin of
the snake covers, after all, a snake."
"For shame, Master Deputy," said Bradstreet.
"We desire to learn of you your knowledge of the person calling
himself Sir Christopher Gardiner," said Winthrop. "Know you by what
right he doth assume the title?"
"I will answer your question," replied the lady, "protesting against
the coercion exercised over me. He is a worthy and honorable gentleman
of my own personal knowledge, and of the family of the Gardiners, of
whom Stephen Gardiner, Bishop of Winchester, was an illustrious
scion."
"How know you of the relationship?" inquired Winthrop.
"Sir Christopher hath himself told me so," answered the lady.
"A manifest invention," said Endicott, in a low voice to Dudley, "to
raise himself in the estimation of his paramour."
"Our minds do meet in the same conclusion," said Dudley, in a like
tone. "Hear, too, the boasting manner in which she rolls the word
'bishop' over her tongue."
"When and where became you first acquainted with the Knight?" inquired
Winthrop.
"From early youth, at Boirdly, in Salopshire, England."
"Know you when he was knighted?"
"I know not," answered the lady.
"What is the relation," inquired Winthrop, with some hesitation,
"wherein you stand to him?"
"I apprehend not the meaning of your question."
"Hath he not been your protector since leaving England?"
"He hath," answered the lady.
A look of intelligence passed between Dudley and Endicott at the
answer.
"For what purpose came ye into these parts?"
"Am I at a confessional," demanded the lady, "that I am bound to
expose the secrets of my soul?"
"If, madam," said Endicott, "you are familiar with the popish device,
practice will enable you to answer the more glibly."
"Have pity upon me, gentlemen," said the lady. "I am quite deject and
wretched. Take not advantage of your power to humiliate me into the
dust."
"The question doth still remain unanswered," exclaimed Dudley, looking
at Winthrop.
"Be not hasty, Master Deputy," said Winthrop. "Give the gentlewoman
time to frame her answers."
"I ever liked a quick and unpremeditated response," said Endicott. "It
is more like to savor of the truth."
"Madam," said Winthrop, "we await your reply."
"How can I make answer thereto?" she said; "for what know I of the
private motions of the mind of Sir Christopher?"
"At least, you can tell the purpose wherefor you came?"
"It was with no evil intent. I had no motive wherefor I need be
ashamed before God or man."
"Then why hesitate to avow it?"
"I came influenced by like motives to those which have brought others
to this land."
"Know you aught of a report that the father of this Sir Christopher
did disinherit him, by reason of his long-continued travels in various
parts of Europe?"
"Supposing him to be dead," said the lady; "I cannot deny it, and
therefore will not."
"What know you of any wife or wives he may have had?"
"I know nothing of them."
"What!" interrupted Dudley: "hath he not confessed unto thee that he
married a wife on his travels, from whom he was divorced, and that she
is long since dead?"
"Ye do strive to put words into my mouth, and to entangle me in my
talk," said the lady. "Call you this justice?"
"We are the interrogators, madam," said Dudley. Looking at Winthrop,
he saw that the Governor had fallen back in his seat, with his eyes
cast upon the floor, and was silent, as if tired of his part of the
examination, and willing to relinquish it to others. Observing this,
the Deputy proceeded.
"May it please you, madam, to answer the question?"
"Heaven help me," she said. "My poor brain is so bewildered that I
hardly know what it is."
"Thou hast a treacherous memory," answered Dudley; "but I will repeat
it. It was concerning certain confessions about this Gardiner's wife."
"What confessions?" said the lady.
"Prevaricate not, nor think to blind me," he answered. "The facts are
of public notoriety, and it will not profit to deny them."
"If I deny them I am not to be believed, and the denial would only
bring down upon my head additional insult; then why tempt so hard a
fate? Tell me what you would have me say, and I will endeavor to
conform to your wishes."
"Woman!" said Dudley, sternly, "trifle not. Answer me--aye, or nay."
"Thou hast thine answer," said the lady, with some spirit, as if
goaded into resistance by the severity of the treatment.
"I am content," said Dudley. "Thou knowest that falsehood were in
vain."
"Madam," now took up Endicott the word, "we have not as yet been
favored with your name."
"It is Geraldine De Vaux."
"Hast never another?"
"What mean you, sir!" she exclaimed, with a startled air. "What other
name?"
"I mean, plainly--is not thy name Mary Grove?"
At the question, the lady, unable longer to control herself, burst
into tears. Quickly recovering herself, however, and drying her eyes,
she said:
"The wicked man who first insulted me with the name and the infamy
connected therewith is dead. Dread ye not a like judgment on
yourselves?"
"Thou dost ill to remind us," observed an Assistant, "that thou art,
according to thine own opinion, in some sort, a cause of the death of
our brother, Spikeman, and to threaten us with his fate."
"I threatened not. I did but repel a wrongful accusation," said the
lady, more humbly.
"Yet dost thou not deny the name?" persisted Endicott.
"If it availed, I would deny it; but I see that ye are all leagued
together to persecute me unto the death. Not my will," she sighed,
folding her hands and looking up, "but Thine be done!"
"Wilt thou say nothing more touching this subject?" inquired Endicott.
"I desire to say nothing thereupon, except to protest against the
injurious constructions you seem determined to put on all that I can
say."
"How hath it happened," continued Endicott, "that you have never
appeared with the congregation, in the Lord's house?"
"Consider the distance we did live in the woods, and the difficulty of
the travel," answered the lady, deprecatingly. "But, has not Sir
Christopher attended?"
Endicott paid no attention to the question, but went on.
"What is thy profession of faith?"
"I am a Christian, and most miserable sinner."
"Aye, but Protestant or Catholic?"
"Protestant," answered the lady, with an inflexion of the voice which
made it difficult to decide whether the word was intended for an
ejaculation, a question, or a declaration. "Holy Virgin!" she
murmured, so low as not to be overheard, "forgive me this half lie.
Not for my own sake do my lips utter it, and my heart abhors it."
The answer seemed to take Endicott by surprise.
"Have heed to thy words," he said. "We are well advised that this
runnigadoe and thyself were, until of late at least, at Rome."
"You seem to know all things," said the lady, scornfully, "and I
wonder why ye trouble yourselves with anything that an ignorant woman
can say. Have it as you will."
"Hath not our examination proceeded far enough?" asked Sir Richard.
"Is there aught else ye expect to elicit?"
"The woman, I think, hath confessed the whole," said Dudley. "She
openly admits that this Gardiner, or whatever else be his name, is her
paramour; and, for the remainder, what hath been wrested from her by
her own contradictions, sufficiently confounds her."
"Base man, it is false!" cried the lady, roused into indignation by
the charge. I have confessed to naught whereof a woman should be
ashamed. There is no infamy attached to my name; and as high as Heaven
is above the earth, so far is Sir Christopher above thy craven
nature."
"Heyday!" said Dudley; "it thunders and lightens. I bandy not words
with thee, but the record of the Secretary will show."
"I find not the exact word," said the Secretary, Master Nowell, after
examining his minutes, "but she doth acknowledge this pretended Knight
as her protector since they left England, and the terms are
equivalent."
"I meant it not so. I have acknowledged nothing to my disgrace,"
exclaimed the lady. "Ye have enveigled and entrapped me by artful
questions, and then put constructions on my answers which do not
belong to them. A worthy business, truly, for grave and learned men to
be engaged in, to set their wits to work against a forlorn woman, to
pervert her language into shameful meanings."
"Madam," said Winthrop, "you have permission to retire. Bring with
thee," he added, addressing the beadle, "the little Indian girl,
without letting her come to speech with this gentlewoman, and also
Sassacus, properly guarded."