Well skilled he was in regulating laws,
So as by law he could defend the cause
Of poor distressed plaintiff, when he brought
His case before him and for help besought.
Above all other men he loved those
Who gospel truths most faithfully unclose,
Who were with grace and learning fully fraught.
MORTON'S NEW ENGLAND'S MEMORIAL.
The ancient town of Plymouth has probably about as much resemblance to
what it was two hundred years ago, as an ante-diluvian at a like age
had to his boyhood. Were Governor Bradford, whose worth is more
quaintly than poetically delineated in the above lines, Captain Miles
Standish, Master Thomas Prince, or any other worthies of those days of
peaked hats and falling bands to revisit the scenes of their pilgrim
labors, I fancy that they would find it difficult at first to
recognize them. By the eternal features, only, of nature, the
sparkling waters of the bay, the waving line of its shore, and by the
eminences not wholly levelled, would the site be identified, and the
likeness traced. Only with memory, assisted by these marks, might they
be able, as the moonbeams fell upon their pale faces, and they stroked
their solemn beards, to exclaim--here stood _our_ Plymouth.
As it presented itself that day to the eyes of Sir Christopher
Gardiner, surrounded by his Indian escort, it seemed an inconsiderable
village lying on the slope of a hill, dropping towards the sea. A
broad street, some eight hundred yards long, led down the hill, and
was crossed nearly in the middle by another, the ends of which were
protected by gates made of solid planks--the fourth end, viz: that on
the hay, being without any barricade. The houses were rude and small,
constructed of hewn planks, and stood in areas, around which were
thrown fences made also of plank, serving as very effectual stockades
against any sudden attack, and bidding defiance to the simple enginery
of the natives. Near the centre was the Governor's house (built in
like manner), and in front of it, at the intersection of the streets,
a square block, answering the purposes of a fort, and mounted with
four patereros, or small cannon, commanded the streets and four points
of entrance. On the top of the hill, a large square edifice with a
flat roof, whereupon were placed six cannons, shooting balls of four
or five pounds, dominated the surrounding country. The upper part of
this building served for a fort, and the lower for public worship and
meetings generally. On the whole, as against arrows and tomahawks, it
was a very pretty fortified place, and would not have been found fault
with by Vauban himself, could he have had the good fortune to behold
it.
The Knight passed through one of the open gates, which were closed
only at night, and proceeded straight to the residence of the
Governor. Here he was delivered by the Indians to Bradford, who chid
them for wounding Sir Christopher. They excused themselves on the
ground of his resistance, declaring that the wound was trivial, and
had merely numbed his arm for a moment. (Such, indeed, proved to be a
fact, when, shortly afterwards, the broken piece of the arrow was cut
out.) The Indians were dismissed with the promised presents, Quecheco
being permitted to retain the coveted gun of the Knight as part of his
reward. A moment's digression to record the fate of the savage, and we
will return to Sir Christopher.
Proud was the Indian of his new acquisition, with its gold and silver
ornaments, so far surpassing in beauty all other pieces he had seen,
and affectionately he caressed it, calling it his week-su-buck otaw,
(sweetheart,) and often repeating, gee-wawee-fee-yi-ee, i.e., you are
welcome. He was alone in the forest, the others having departed in
different directions, and was on his way to Boston, where he expected
to get more of the powder and ball for which he had covenanted. It was
the day after his treachery, and he had nearly accomplished his
journey, only three or four miles remaining between him and his place
of destination, when he heard a rustling in the bushes, and saw
Towanquattick advancing. He had first been seen by the Pequot, who,
recognizing him, came unsuspiciously forward. Instantly saw Quecheco
the consequences of being found by Towanquattick in possession of the
gun, with which the latter was familiar as the property of Sir
Christopher, and this thought, combining with his hatred, made him
suddenly raise the weapon and fire at the approaching Pequot. The
forest rang with the report, and as Quecheco, unpractised in the use
of fire-arms, having discharged the piece but a few times, recovered
himself, he beheld Towanquattick fitting an arrow to his bow. Seizing
the tomahawk out of his belt, Quecheco hurled it at the Pequot as the
arrow whizzed from the string, but both weapons failed of their mark.
Drawing his own tomahawk, the Pequot in turn threw it at his foe, who
escaped by a sudden movement of the body.
The two Indians now stood regarding one another with looks of rage,
and took the knives off their necks. Neither spoke a word. Each
understood the other, and with flashing eyes watched to take an
advantage. They were both powerful men, well matched in size and age,
and equally armed, so that upon fortune and skill, more than upon
brute strength, the result was likely to depend.
Presently, each grasping the knife in his right hand, and bending
over, ready for a spring, they began, with eyes fixed on one another,
to move round and round, watching for a favorable opportunity to make
the fatal dart. Thus, occasionally increasing the rapidity of their
movements, then relaxing their swiftness again, they moved in circles
several times, but without drawing within striking distance. The
thought occurred to both of throwing the knife, which, if skilfully
done, might terminate the contest, but the consideration that if the
stroke failed, the unsuccessful combatant would be left at the mercy
of the other, deterred from the hazardous experiment. After various
feints and stratagems foiled, by mutual cunning the two foes stopped,
as if by agreement, to devise more effectual schemes of destruction.
In this truce of a moment, the eyes of Quecheco fell upon a tomahawk
lying near the feet of his opponent, and unobserved by him. His
efforts were now directed to getting possession of the weapon, and he
re-commenced the system of attack he had practised. It was no
difficult thing, by a series of retreats and advances, and constant
changes of position, to entice the Pequot, ignorant of the other's
design, from the place whereon he stood, and presently the foot of
Quecheco touched the missile. The movement of his foe's limbs in
searching for the tomahawk had caught the notice of Towanquattick, and
before it was touched by Quecheco's foot he had seen it. At the sight,
throwing aside the caution he had practised, the Pequot sprung
straight at his enemy, and, without seeking to protect himself,
plunged his knife into the breast of Quecheco. The force of the blow
threw the stooping savage upon his back, and before he could rise, the
tomahawk, caught from the ground by the hand of the Pequot, crashed
into the brain of the dying traitor. Drawing out, then, the knife, the
Pequot, with a rapid turn that indicated a practised hand, passed it
round the head of his foe, and tearing off the bloody trophy, hung it
at his girdle. A little while the Pequot stood contemplating the body,
and as his eyes wandered from the corpse to the gun, which lay on the
ground, and back again to the corpse a ferocious gleam of gratified
revenge, like the lurid gleam of fires at night, swept over his
swarthy face. Picking up, then, the gun, the knives and tomahawks, and
stripping the corpse of the articles containing the powder and
bullets, the Indian started in search of Joy.
Meanwhile, the Knight had been entertained with all humanity and honor
by the Governor of Plymouth; nor was other treatment to be expected
from the learned and accomplished Bradford. In appearance he was
somewhat less than fifty years of age, with a mild and thoughtful
expression of countenance, which revealed to the close observer as
much of the meditative student as of the man of action. A thorough
receiver and admirer of the principles of the sect to which he
belonged, it was the business of his life to illustrate them by his
learning, and enforce them by his example.
That strange charm of manner for which the Knight of the Golden Melice
was so distinguished, his persuasive voice and intellectual
cultivation, failed not to exert their wonted fascination over one so
likely to be influenced by exactly such qualities and acquirements as
Bradford, and, indeed, nowhere were they calculated to exercise so
great a power as in a country where they were uncommon.
The two gentlemen had met before, but the interview had never ripened
into acquaintance; and now, that fortune had thrown them together in
relations which might seem none of the most agreeable, but which the
kindness of the one and the polish of the other hid in flowers, it
appeared as if they were welcome to both.
"We have become acquainted under singular circumstances, Sir
Christopher," said Bradford, a day or two after the Knight came to
Plymouth; "and, although wishing they were somewhat different, I can
scarcely regret the providence which has brought so every way
accomplished a gentleman to honor my roof. Your mind, wonderfully
imbued with the gentler humanities, sweetly accords with mine own, and
when you are gone I shall look back with refreshment and a sad longing
to our thoughtful conferences. Never have the strains of the divine
harper of Israel, whether exulting in the favor of Jehovah or
sorrowing for sin, so affected my spirit as when read by you in the
original speech of Eden."
"For your kind expressions, right worshipful sir," answered the
Knight, "and the delicate attentions which make my imprisonment sweet,
receive my unforgetting gratitude. I, too, whatever unjust suspicion
may inflict, will revert to these our religious and philosophic hours,
wherein we discussed questions nobler than those which, in the shades
of Tusculum, engaged the minds of the great Roman orator and of his
friends, with a satisfaction which shall not run out with the sands in
the hour-glass of time."
"If outraged, by I scarcely know what wild reports, for the moment,"
replied Bradford, "I entreat you to forgive it, and to believe me that
I believe them not. Remember that David fled before his enemies, yet
the Lord delivered him and brought him to great honor."
"I am not worthy to be joined in thought with the Shepherd King, who,
to the ringing strings of the harp, warbled inspiration," said the
Knight. "Yet, noble sir, do I accept your words of cheer, and they
shall be a buoy to bear me up as I cross this tempestuous Jordan. When
is it your purpose that I should depart? Accompany you me, or go I
melancholy, alone?"
"As for the first question, you shall remain at your pleasure, or
until Governor Winthrop requires your presence; as for the latter,
though unable to leave home at present, I hope shortly to be at
leisure. Thus generally can I answer, but present or absent, my best
wishes shall attend you."
The above conversation is sufficient to give an idea of the relation
of the Governor and Knight to one another, and of the feelings of
both. In truth, the enjoyment of Sir Christopher was almost as great
as Bradford's, and neither manifested any desire to shorten their
intercourse. Every leisure moment devoted the Plymouth Governor to his
agreeable companion--their conversations turning more on questions of
literature than on political matters. These latter, the Knight
avoided, seeking thereby to impress the other with the opinion, that
he felt but little interest in them.
In this manner passed the time, until one morning the Governor
announced that messengers had arrived from Winthrop, commissioned to
wait on Sir Christopher to his presence.
"I grieve," said Bradford, "that I cannot go with you. Matters of
instant importance demand my presence here, but so far as friendly
words in a letter may avail they shall not be wanting. May it please
you to be ready at your convenience, and meanwhile I will prepare my
epistle."
At the time appointed, four armed men appeared at the Governor's house
to receive the prisoner. To them Sir Christopher was delivered by
Bradford, who, at the same time, handed them a letter for Winthrop.
Upon the departure of one whose presence had imparted so much
pleasure; from whom no unguarded word of censure or impatience had
escaped, and who had revealed a mind adorned with such rich stores of
culture, the scholastic Bradford sought his study, a small room, or
closet, well supplied with books, to meditate on what had happened and
to pursue his studies. Absorbed in his books, hours passed away
unheeded, and he remarked not the opening of the door and entrance of
a serving-man, who, seeing his master engaged, waited respectfully
until he should be noticed. At length Bradford looked up and demanded
his business.
"This," said the man, "was found in the chamber of Sir Christopher
Gardiner." So saying, he handed to the Governor a small leathern
pocket-book, such as were used for making memoranda, and withdrew.
Bradford, on being left alone, turned the book several times in his
hand with a doubting air, then placing it at a little distance before
him, leaned his head on his elbow, and began to muse.
"_Publico utilitati cedet jus privatum_," he said at last aloud, and
opened the book. He had hardly glanced his eyes at the page, when they
lighted up, and he seemed to read with intense interest.
"Ha!" he exclaimed, after reading through several leaves: "was ever
man worse deceived? Here have I been harboring in my house and taking
to my bosom a concealed Papist, as this writing sufficiently
discloses. Nor yet a born Papist either, laboring under a delusion
sucked in with mother's milk, but a recreant Protestant, a voluntary
seeker after error; for here are written down the memorial of his
shame, the very time and place where and when he struck hands with
Anti-Christ, the name of the university where he assumed the scapula,
as the blinded errorists call two woollen bands, the one crossing the
breast and the other the back, one of those ridiculous mummeries
whereby, with other devices and unseemly grimaces, they have contrived
to bring the cross itself of the Redeemer into disrespect, and the
degrees in superstition taken by this wretched backslider. Woe is me!
How can the arch-deceiver assume the form of an angel of light! Yet is
here no name written. The memorandum may refer to some-one else. But
that cannot be. Himself is meant. Why should he carry about with him a
note of this kind respecting another? This betrayer of treachery, this
touchstone of truth, shall off forthwith to Winthrop, and be the
antidote to the bane of my letter."
Thus murmured Governor Bradford, grieved as well as vexed at the
deceit, as he supposed it to be. With a rapid hand, he wrote an
account of his discovery, and entrusting it, with the note-book, to a
messenger, commanded him to hasten after the soldiers from Governor
Winthrop, and deliver to them the package.