The Knight of the Golden Melice: A Historical Romance

Chapter 18

Chapter 182,739 wordsPublic domain

When shaws beene sheene and shrads full fayre, And leaves both large and longe, Itt is merrye walking in the faire forrest, To hear the small birdes songe.

BALLAD OF ROBIN HOOD AND GUY OF GISBORNE.

The project of Governor Winthrop of sending an embassy to the Taranteens met with general favor among his councillors. All agreed that war with the ferocious savages was, if possible, to be avoided under any circumstances, but especially now when the English must appear to the natives to be stained with the crime of a dastardly breach of faith and murder unparalleled in atrocity. The conduct of Winthrop in returning a bold defiance to their threats, was also approved, (for in treating with them, an exhibition of a want of confidence would be considered a confession of weakness, and only serve to precipitate the calamity to be avoided,) but it complicated the difficulty, if that were possible, and embarrassed any attempt at reconciliation. The Taranteens were felt to occupy a position of great advantage, and likely to attract the sympathy of the Indians generally, and even to unite tribes before hostile to one another against the perfidious Owanux. To the Taranteens no blame could be attached. They had been guilty of no breach of faith; they had acted like brave and honorable men. Even after the outrage upon them they had respected their wild code of honor, nor would commence hostilities, until like the snake, whose warning rattles they sent, they had apprised the enemy of their intention. But the challenge had been given and accepted, and a state of war initiated. Soon might their war-parties be expected to fill the forests, cutting off stragglers and attacking any bodies of men which they should deem inferior in strength to their own. Hence the danger of traveling in the woods, and especially of attempting to penetrate into that remote region, the habitation of the hostile tribe, was greatly increased. Where was the man daring enough to encounter the peril unless supported by a military force, which would give the embassy more the appearance of a foray than of a tender of peace? Such an armed band would only invite attack. Besides it was inconvenient, and indeed of the highest detriment to the colony, to take off so many able-bodied men as would be necessary for the purpose, from the cultivation of the fields, and those other industrial pursuits upon which the existence of the colonists depended, even though they should all return safe to their homes--a result by no means to be expected.

When, therefore, Winthrop suggested Sir Christopher Gardiner as a proper person, from his familiarity with the habits of the natives, and his knowledge of their language, to undertake the enterprise, it is no wonder that the proposition was favorably received. All felt it to be a service of danger; it was highly desirable that it should be attempted; no one was so well fitted for it as the Knight; and were the effort at reconciliation to terminate fatally, the loss of no one would be less regretted by several of the Assistants. For there were among them some who were no friends of the Knight, and would gladly have had him out of the colony; either not liking his intimacy with the natives, or suspicious of the circumstance, that, although he had offered to unite himself with the congregation, he had, somehow or other, never done so, either in consequence of doubts entertained respecting the soundness of his faith, or some unknown cause. This feeling was heightened by a jealousy of the favor enjoyed by the Knight with Winthrop--a favor which, some declared, warped the better judgment of the Governor. In proof of this, they pointed to the remission (at the intercession of Sir Christopher) of a part of the punishment of one Ratcliffe, who had incurred the vengeance of the law, and also of the indulgence shown to Philip Joy. At the head of these malcontents was the Assistant Spikeman--one who, by his evil propensities and incapacity to appreciate the noble sentiments of Winthrop, stood to him in a certain relation of hostility. For there is no law more prevailing than that evil hates good, compelled thereto by the very constitution of its nature. Indeed, it is evil by reason of that hatred; when that ceases, evil ceases also.

By no one was the proposal to entrust the business to Sir Christopher, if he would accept it--for the cautious Winthrop did not allude to the understanding betwixt himself and the Knight--received with more favor than by Spikeman. He was eloquent in praise of the qualifications of the proposed envoy, and derided the danger, expressing a conviction that it would be easy for him, if he chose, to restore peaceable relations. The qualification in the speech of the Assistant was noticed by Winthrop, and he intimated astonishment at the suspicion, and wonder at the willingness of one who felt it, to entrust the commission in such hands. But the artful Spikeman easily extricated himself from so slight a difficulty, alleging, as the cause of the doubt, the want of that Christian bond on the part of the Knight, without which no one could be entitled to the entire confidence due to one in full communion.

When the Assistant left the Council, he debated with himself how, if Sir Christopher accepted the service, he might join Arundel, and the soldier Joy with him. Could he succeed, he considered that he would be in a fair way to rid himself at once of three persons who interfered with his designs. The heat of his animosity was directed indeed principally against Arundel and Joy, the Knight coming in for a portion as their favorer and abettor. But in the pursuit of an object, no scruples of conscience ever interfered with the plans of Spikeman, willing to involve alike friend and foe in one common destruction, if so only his purposes could be accomplished. He calculated somewhat upon the bold temper of Arundel, and also upon his regard for the Knight, by whose side he doubted not the young man would be willing to defy any danger to which the other would expose himself.

With this view he took care, by means of his spy, Ephraim Pike, to acquaint Arundel with the honor intended for Sir Christopher. The expedition was represented by Pike as a mere party of pleasure, and as affording fine opportunities for observing the tribes in their native haunts. The good sense of the young man, and the experience he already had, taught him better than to regard it exactly in the light wherein the spy exhibited it; but, though conscious that there must be danger, in the excited condition of the Taranteens, he could not believe it to be great, else neither would Winthrop ask such exposure of life, nor would the Knight accept of the enterprise. As for what danger was to be encountered, it rather stimulated than deterred in the desire to partake of it, as the lion hunt has greater attractions for the hunter than the chase of the deer. Some words dropped from Pike about the woodcraft of Joy, and his bravery; but he dared not speak plainer for fear of betraying himself.

The information of Pike, it seems, was not without effect, for early on the morning of the following day, Arundel started for the habitation of his friend, taking with him what he considered necessary for a distant journey in the woods. The distance was passed over in a couple of hours; but, early as it was, he found that a messenger had anticipated him. This he discovered, as well from the language of the Knight, who stood in the porch of his house with a letter in his hand, as from the appearance of the man with whom he was conversing, whom Arundel perceived was one of the soldiers who ordinarily mounted guard before the door of the Governor.

"This," said the Knight, handing the letter to the messenger, "to Governor Winthrop, and a fair return to thyself."

The man took the letter, and, after making the military salute of the period, turned on his way to Boston.

"Here has come," said Sir Christopher, after the usual greetings, "a request from the Governor that I would undertake an embassy to the Taranteens, to soothe their excited minds and prevent an outbreak."

"May I inquire what is your reply?" asked Arundel.

"How canst thou doubt? Surely, where honor and good deeds invite, no true knight can turn back."

"I am to understand, then, that you have accepted the office of mediator?"

"I have accepted the trust, hoping that good may grow out thereof."

"And when is it you purpose to depart?"

"Incontinently. The matter brooks no delay."

"Then have I a petition to prefer, which, I hope, will meet with the same favor as the Governor's. Let me attend thee on this journey."

The suddenness of the request appeared to embarrass the Knight for an instant; but it was only for an instant.

"Hast thou fully considered," he asked, "the perils whereunto thou dost expose thy young life? What would be the condition of Eveline Dunning shouldst thou never return?"

"My life is not more valuable than thine, and the situation of Eveline would be no worse than that of thine own relative."

"Aye, but consider the difference in our positions. Glory, duty, summon me irresistibly; whereas, thou hast no calling other than curiosity."

"Say not so," exclaimed the young man, with feeling. "I will not deny the motive assigned; but believe me there are others, whereof you would not disapprove."

"May I know them?"

"Needs it that I should say how greatly I admire thee; how gladly I would follow in thy knightly footsteps; how any peril would be welcome, if partaken with thee?"

Sir Christopher turned away. "I did not think," he said to himself, "his affection was so great."

"Master Arundel," he replied, walking back, "I do prize thy friendship more than precious jewels; but I were untrue to that love, should I expose thee to danger. For myself, I were a recreant, and no knight, could I, because of danger, refuse to obey a call to benefit my fellow-men; but, for thee, it is a reckless and unneeded temptation of peril. Deem me not unkind, but think it is my love and anxiety that speak in your behalf."

"It is the first request I have made to thee," said Arundel, "and, if refused, it shall be the last. I shall be compelled to believe you consider me unworthy of your friendship, too effeminate to bear a walk of a few days in the forest, and unreliable in the hour of trial."

The voice of the young man trembled, and his whole manner betrayed his wounded feelings.

"Hear me, my young friend," urged the Knight; "hast thou well weighed the terrors thou wouldst seek? It is not merely death thou dost defy; but, holy Mary, holy angels, what a death! Canst thou endure to have thy tender flesh pierced with splintered sticks; thine eyes torn from the sockets; the flames greedily dashing over thy head, and licking up, as with the forked tongues of serpents, thy blood, hissing as it drops upon the glowing brands? And this for the poor satisfaction of being with me; for thou canst not afford protection, should the Indians attempt outrage. Alas! how bitterly would the sorrow of my own fate be enhanced by the consciousness of thine!"

"I have considered all these things, and they move me not. I admit the possibilities of the painting, but no more. The conduct of the Taranteens proves how high stands with them the point of honor and the sacred estimate wherein they hold an embassy; else never would they have ventured upon one like the second, after the unhappy termination of the first. I partake not of thy fears."

"Then, if not with the unthinking heat of youth, but with thoughtful deliberation, thou hast well weighed the matter, I will not deny thee, and thou shalt visit with me these savages, if Providence spares our lives to reach them. But I start this day, within a few hours; the time is short; thou canst not be ready."

"I am ready. I came prepared, anticipating all things save thine objections."

"Enter, then, my poor house, my dear young friend, and refresh thyself," said Sir Christopher, leading the way.

The persistency of Arundel having thus wrung a consent from the Knight, the subject was not again referred to by either of them; but both considering the matter settled, addressed themselves to the preparations remaining to be made. A small quantity of dried deer's flesh, and corn parched and pounded, was packed up, sufficient, as was supposed, to supply the wants of the travellers, should they be at any time unfortunate in procuring game, upon which their chief reliance rested. The guns were carefully cleaned, the locks seen to be in order, and store of bullets and powder was provided. These preparations being completed, refreshed with the noonday meal, Sir Christopher called on Arundel to follow him. An Indian was to go with them as far as it was judged safe for him to proceed into an enemy's country. The journey it was calculated would require a week to accomplish to the principal village of the Taranteens; so that, allowing an equal length of time for coming back, and the necessary delay among the Indians, a period of at least three weeks might be expected to elapse before their return. The two white men, then, habited in closely-fitting hunting garments, made of dressed deer-skin, as pliable when dry as silk, their guns slung over their shoulders, followed the Indian, dressed in native costume, with bow and quiver, and carrying the provisions, and commenced their journey.

The first two days were unmarked by any incident. Their course lay over the hills and through the valleys of the pleasant State of Massachusetts, now blooming under the hand of culture, ornamented with cities and villages, and supplying the world with the products of her joyful and free industry; then, an interminable forest, roved by fierce animals, and by red men scarcely less savage, divided into tribes sparsely scattered, living in mutual distrust, incapable of labor, supporting themselves by the uncertain issues of the chase, already daunted by the whites, and perhaps dimly descrying the fate that awaited them.

Crevecoeur, in the description of his journey in Upper Pennsylvania, tells us how accurately the native sagacity of the wiser Indians could discriminate between their own characteristics and those of the white strangers, and foresee the consequences that must follow.

"Seest thou," said one of them, "that the whites subsist on grain, while we depend on flesh; that the flesh requires more than thirty moons to mature, and is often scarce; that each of those wonderful grains which they deposit in the ground gives back more than a hundredfold in return; that the meat whereon we subsist has four legs to run away, while we have only two to catch it; and that the seeds planted by the strangers remain and increase, and never run away? That is the reason why they have so many children, and live longer than we do. I say unto each one of you who will listen, that, before the cedars of our village shall die of age, and the maple-trees of the valley cease to yield sugar, that the race of the sowers of little seeds will have exterminated the race of the flesh-eaters, provided our hunters do not also resolve to sow."

Through the vast solitude, impressive by its silence and its loneliness, guiding their course by day by the position of the sun and the mosses on the trunks of the trees, and at night by the stars, the three men pursued their way. On the afternoon of the third day, the Knight, after a conversation with their guide, came to the conclusion that it was better the Aberginian should return, as they had now approached too nearly to the haunts of the Taranteens to suppose that they should long remain undiscovered. Accordingly, the Indian took his departure, leaving to the white men all the dangers of a further advance, and to find their way as best they might.