Chapter 2

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!"