Читать книгу The Knight of the Golden Melice - John Turvill Adams - Страница 4

Table of Contents

CHAPTER I.

Come on, Sir! now you set your foot on shore,

In novo orbe.

Ben Jonson's Alchemist.

Our tale begins within a few years after the end of the first quarter of the 17th century, at Boston, in Massachusetts, then in the infancy of its settlement.

On an evening in the month of May, were assembled some seven or eight men around a table, in a long, low room, the sides only of which were plastered, the rough beams and joists overhead being exposed to view; the windows were small, and the floor without a carpet; and the furniture consisted of the table, over which was spread a black cloth, whereupon stood several lighted candles in brass candlesticks, of a dozen chairs, covered with russet-colored leather, and of some wooden benches, ranged against the walls, and which were occupied by various persons. At one end of the apartment the floor was raised a few inches, and the chair standing on this elevation differed from the others in having arms at the sides, and in being of ampler proportions, as if by its appearance to vindicate a claim to superior position. But unpretending as was the room, it was a place of no little importance, being no less than the Court Hall and Council Chamber of the "Governor and Company of the Massachusetts Bay, in New England." At the moment of which we are speaking, it was appropriated to a meeting of the Court of Assistants of the Colony.

The person occupying the arm-chair, on the platform, was a man of not unpleasing appearance, somewhat less than fifty years of age, and dressed with considerable precision in the style prevailing among gentlemen of distinction at that day. His face was rather long, and surmounted by a high and well developed forehead, from the top of which, dark, parted hair fell in curls down the temples over a white ruff, fringed with costly lace, that encircled his neck. His eyes were blue; his eye-brows highly arched; his nose large; beard covered the upper lip and chin; and so far as an opinion could be formed, from his sitting posture, he was tall and well-made. The expression of his countenance was gentle, and there was an air of introspection and abstraction about it as if he were much in the habit of communing with his own thoughts. The upper part of his person, which only was visible, the rest being hid by the table and depending cloth, was clothed in a black coat or doublet, without ornament or even the appearance of a button, and at his side he wore a rapier, evidently more as a badge of his rank than for use.

Seated at his right hand, and below the platform, was a man a dozen years at least his elder, whose stout look and fiery glances indicated that if time had grizzled his thick and close cut hair, it had not quenched the heat of his spirit. Like the gentleman first described, he was dressed in sad-colored garments, differing but little from them, except that instead of a ruff, he wore a plain white band, falling upon his breast, cut somewhat like those worn by clergymen at the present day, but longer, and passing round the neck and covering the collar of the coat. Although the oldest of the company, he seemed to have himself the least under control, continually moving in his chair, drawing forward and pushing away the sheets of paper that lay before him, and now and then darting an impatient glance at the person in the arm-chair, from whom it would wander over his companions, and then fasten on the door.

The third and last gentleman whom we think proper to describe, was a man of about the age of the first, but utterly unlike him. His head was covered with a black skull cap, (probably to protect his baldness,) beneath which, rose ears more prominent than ornamental, being very little relieved by the hair, which was cropped short. His complexion was florid, and the parts of the face, about the chin and jaws, full and heavy, giving an appearance of great roundness to the countenance. His features were regular, the mouth small and compressed, and on the upper lip he wore a moustache, parted in the centre, and brushed out horizontally, balanced by a tuft on the chin, four or five inches long. An adventurous spirit gazed out of his clear steady eyes, and altogether he looked like a man of determined temper, and one who, having once formed a resolution, would find it difficult to relinquish it. Around his neck he also had a broad band, divided in the middle, and falling half way down his breast. The remainder of the persons around the table bore the same general resemblance to these three, in dress, that one gentleman ordinarily does to another, and all were engaged in conversation.

Presently the gentleman in the arm-chair, who was evidently the President, took up a small bell that was placed before him, and sounding it, the summons was replied to by the entrance of a man from a side-door. He was the servitor or beadle of the Court, and moving to the end of the table opposite the President, he stood facing him and waiting his commands.

"Bring in the prisoner," said the President, in a low tone, but so distinct that it was heard all over the room.

The beadle noiselessly glided out, and in a few moments returned, leading a man, whose wrists were fastened with gyves, whom he conducted to the end of the table he had just left, and placed so as to confront the President.

"Take off the irons," said the same, low, musical voice.

The man, thus unpleasantly introduced, was in the prime of life, certainly not more than thirty-five or six years of age, and from his bold and erect carriage, seemed (as was the fact) to have been bred a soldier. Upon the order to take off the shackles being complied with, he cast a look of acknowledgment toward the speaker.

"Master Nowell," said the President, "read the accusation."

The person addressed, who was the Clerk or Secretary, rose hereupon from his seat near the centre of the table, and read "the information," which it is unnecessary to give at length, charging the prisoner with using most foul, scandalous, indecent, defamatory, and unseemly invectives, reproaches, and passionate speeches, toward and against the worshipful magistrates and godly ministers of the colony, thereby contriving and designing to bring into contempt, all law, order, religion, and good government, &c., and to subvert the authority of the magistrates and undermine the wholesome influence of the godly ministers, &c., to the disgrace and ruin of the colony and scandal of true religion, &c.

When the paper had been read, the President demanded—"Are you guilty or not?"

"I am as innocent as the worshipful Governor himself, and whoever wrote those lies, is a villain and a foresworn knave," replied the prisoner.

"Enter that the prisoner says he is not guilty," said the President, addressing the Secretary; "and do thou, Philip Joy, remember where thou art, and express thyself in a manner more becoming this presence."

"It is hard to be tied up like a mad dog and not get angry," replied the accused.

"Sirrah!" cried the gentleman, whose appearance was described next after the President, "dost thou bring a contumacious spirit here to bandy words with the right worshipful Governor? Silence, and answer peremptorily to the questions of thy betters."

"Nay, worthy Deputy Governor Dudley, the poor man is, I doubt not, already sensible of his error, and sinned more out of ignorance than design," observed the President.

"The honored Governor," spoke an assistant from near the bottom of the table, "is, I fear, disposed to be too lenient in respect of these foul-mouthed carrion."

"Our law condemns no man unheard; nor will I be more stern," answered the mild Governor Winthrop, (for it was he). "It seems to me to be the part of a judge to allow no harsh suspicions to enter his mind, lest they throw baleful shadows over his decisions. Philip Joy," he added, turning to the prisoner, "thou hast declared thyself innocent; wilt thou be tried by a jury, or art content to trust thy cause to the judgment of the honorable Court of Assistants?"

"I care not who tries me," replied Joy. "I am a true man; and, though I don't belong to the congregation, am as honest as a great many who do, and he is a horrid villain, who—"

"Enough," interrupted the Governor, "a quick tongue often prejudices, while a slow one seldom doth. Do I understand that it is thy desire to be tried by the Assistants?"

"It is not my desire to be tried by any one," said Joy; "but, sith I am to be put on my deliverance, I think that I shall stand a better chance in the hands of honorable gentlemen, some of whom have been soldiers, than in the dirty paws of tinkers, and cobblers, and mere mechanicals."

No smile mantled over the faces of his grave judges, but it was obvious, from the twinkling of eyes and glances shot by one to another, that the speech of Joy had done him no harm with those who, even thus early, began to feel annoyed at the approach of the clouted shoe.

"Art thou prepared for thy trial? inquired the President.

"At any moment, and the sooner the better, your worship. I had rather mount guard, for a week, in steel helmet and corselet, with breast, back, culet, gorget, tasses, sword, musket and bandoliers, in the hottest sun that ever roasted a blackamoor, or stand up to my knees, six months, in snow, without my mandilion, than lie a day longer in that ace—I mean that kennel of a lock-up."

"It, meseems, thou art in a hurry to have justice done thee, good fellow," said, with a grim smile, the gentleman who was the third one described, stroking, with his embroidered glove, the tuft of hair that hung below his chin.

"You are a soldier, Captain Endicott, and can look a man straight in the eyes," paid Joy; "and, though people give you credit for a hot temper, I will trust you."

Endicott elevated his eye-brows at this ambiguous compliment, and for a moment seemed at a loss how to take it, especially as he remarked a peculiar expression on the faces of his colleagues.

"Being a soldier thyself," he replied, fastening his eyes sternly on the face of the prisoner, "thou art bound to know that it becomes not one in the ranks to prattle."

Joy made no answer, but returned a cool and unabashed look to the gaze of the other.

"If the witnesses have been called, let them appear," said the President.

Two men, of a rather moan appearance, now stepped forward; an oath by the uplifted hand was administered, and one commenced his testimony.

The substance of his story was, that Joy, on a certain occasion, and, at a certain place, in his presence and hearing, had declared, with a profane exclamation, that there were men in the colony, wiser, and more learned, than either the magistrates or ministers; and that, between them both, what with their long prayers and intermeddling in every body's affairs, they were like to ruin the plantation.

Upon the conclusion of the testimony, the witness was sharply cross-questioned by Governor Winthrop, and some inquires were made by various Assistants, but nothing further was elicited. As for Joy, he disdained to ask a question, declaring that his accuser, Timpson, had already been in the stocks for leasing; and, besides, had been cudgelled by himself for stealing.

Hezekiah Timpson, a villainous, lean, crop-haired fellow, with a hang-dog look, and sanctimonious air, upon hearing himself charged with delinquencies, which were notorious to the whole Court, raised to heaven his eyes, which, until now, he had kept fastened on the floor, and, sighing deeply, exclaimed:

"I do confess my iniquities and my sins are ever before me. Verily, was I thus given over to Satan to be buffeted but by free-grace have I been snatched, as a brand from the burning, even as I yet hope to see thee, Philip."

"Canting rogue, I want none of thy hopes, good or bad," said Joy.

"Cease thy reviling," cried Dudley, starting from his seat. "What! are we to sit here to listen to malapert railings against men of godly life and conversation?" he added, addressing himself to Winthrop. But before the Governor could reply, one of the Assistants interposed.

"Let the poor man unbosom himself freely," he said, "that the whole truth may come to light."

"Our worshipful brother Spikeman," answered the Deputy Governor, with a sneer, (which he did not attempt to suppress,) "was not always ready to allow such free-speech, as witness the case of Martin Wrexham, banished for speaking to his disparagement."

"I trust that I shall be able to give the worshipful Deputy Governor such reasons for my conduct, as will satisfy him," said Spikeman.

Dudley threw himself back into his chair, as if not half satisfied; and Winthrop, who had calmly listened to the colloquy, took advantage of the pause that ensued, to direct the other witness to testify.

From the examination, it appeared that he had been present at the conversation referred to by Timpson, that, indeed, it was between Joy and himself, and that the former had not been aware of the presence of the informer, until on turning round, when Timpson was standing at his elbow. He recollected nothing said by Joy about the ministers, except that he had, any day, rather listen to one of Corporal Joly's songs, than Mr. Cotton's long sermons; nor respecting the magistrates, but that there were better judges in England.

The testimony being concluded, the prisoner was asked what he had to say for himself, to which he replied:

"Only that Hezekiah Timpson was an eves-dropping, lying villain, and that the other witness had told the truth. He meant no harm by anything he had said."

"Dost think it advisable to retract anything?" inquired Spikeman.

"I know not why I should deny the truth," answered Joy.

"Remand the prisoner, and clear the court-room," cried the President; and Joy was accordingly led out, followed by the spectators.

As soon as the members of the Court were left to themselves, Winthrop began to collect the opinions of the Assistants, commencing with the youngest, who were placed most remote from him. At first, a considerable diversity of sentiment prevailed, several seeming disposed to discredit Timpson, and to acquit Joy. They pronounced their opinions shortly and pithily, giving their reasons in a few words, until it came to Spikeman's turn, who spoke more at length.

"The vice," he said, "of backbiting godly ministers, and maligning magistrates, had risen, in consequence of the mistaken leniency of the Court, to an alarming height, so as to threaten the very foundations of their government. There was not a Satan-instigated railing Rabsheka, who did not now have his daily fling at the servants of the Lord, engaged in much tribulation in planting his vineyard, and there were many saints who were already calling out, O Lord, how long! They had themselves just been witnesses of the audacity, wherewith, in the very presence of the right worshipful Governor, and the worshipful Assistants, the prisoner had assumed to sit in judgment upon a member of the congregation, and to foul him with abuse. Never had he dared to exhibit such topping insolence, had he not supposed himself supported by a mutinous spirit from without. It was a dangerous spirit which, if inflamed by indulgence, would become a deadly boil to poison the whole body politic. Prick therefore the imposthume at once, and, like wise surgeons, let out the offensive matter. He was not surprised at the indignation of the worthy Deputy. It was a zeal unto godliness, and devoutly did he wish, that himself, and all, were more inspired with it. When he had asked that the prisoner might be permitted to speak freely, it was that every Assistant might be convinced by his own ears of the boldness wherewith rebellion to constituted authority, impudently bursting from the bottomless pit, ventured to obtrude into a court of justice, and to boast of its misdeeds. Was a child of the covenant of grace, and our brother in Christ, to be reproached with the sins which he had committed when in the gall of bitterness and bonds of iniquity, and which had been washed out by the blood of the New-Testament? Nay, then, give a universal license to every lewd fellow, to rake up the sins of your youth, and let him send to England—that England which spewed us out of her mouth, as if we were not the children of her bowels—to obtain the proofs. Had there been no word of evidence, the bare conduct of the prisoner before them was enough to satisfy them of his dangerous character, and he should feel his conscience accusing him of failure in his obligations to the Church and the Colony, were he not to advise exemplary punishment, whereof banishment would be a necessary but the slightest part."

The speech of Spikeman was evidently acceptable to a majority of the Assistants. It appealed to the fanaticism of some, and to the fears of others; but there were some on whom it produced no such effect. Captain Endicott, fierce zealot as he was, found in it something disagreeable. As his manner was, he stroked with his hand the long tuft on his chin, before he commenced speaking:

"There are things," he said, "in the speech of the worshipful brother whereof I approve, and others, again, whereunto I may not give my assent. Though it may savor of worldly pride, and be proof of the old Adam lingering in me, I will say, that however guilty in the sight of God, before whom I acknowledge myself the chief of sinners, I challenge before man an examination of my life, and fear no evil report from England or elsewhere. But for this self-boasting, I crave the pardon and prayers of my brethren. Touching the prisoner, which is the matter in hand, I find him somewhat bold, and not altogether in other respects what I desire, but yet not worthy of severe punishment, or likely to be a dangerous person in the Commonwealth. Where need requires, I trust, with preventing grace, never to be deficient in prompt and energetic action, but no necessity therefor hath, in my judgment, at present arisen. For, as for this young man, ye are to recollect that he is a soldier, and that a stout one, and may yet do the Commonwealth service in her defence, whereunto I doubt not his willingness, and that his free speech doth proceed rather from the license of camps than from malignity of temper. Moreover, I find not the rule of Scripture whereby we are bound that by the mouth of two or three witnesses every word shall be established altogether complied with, meaning not, thereby, to impugn the statement of our brother of the congregation, worthy good man Timpson, but only that his words are not confirmed as our law requires."

Thus spoke Endicott, who was afterwards so notorious for his severities against dissidents; but these sentiments found no echo in the mind of the Deputy Governor.

"I thank God," he said, "that however gross and innumerable my errors and backslidings, I am no libertine." (Here Endicott's eyes flashed, but he contented himself with stroking, in a musing manner, the long tuft of hair on his chin.) "The evil we are called upon by the united voice of the suffering saints in this wilderness to suppress," continued Dudley, "demands, I trow, sharper practice than has hitherto been applied, and I do admire at the milk-and-water temper of the worthy Assistant at this present. Not thus is he wont to speak, but in the common is zealous even unto slaying. What incantation or witch of Endor hath blinded him, I know not."

The blood mounted into the face of Endicott, for he, as well as the others present, understood the remark to refer to the young and gentle wife of the ex-Governor of Salem, and who was supposed to exert a great influence in soothing the fierceness of his disposition, (alas, if it were so; how short a time that influence lasted!) and many were the smiles that circled the table, but Winthrop, apprehensive of a storm, interposed.

"My worthy friend," he said, "can surely intend no disrespect toward one of the stoutest champions of our Israel. Doubtless he will be able so to explain his words, as to make their meaning innocent."

"I complain not," burst forth Endicott. "If it were lawful to try conclusions in the manner of the Gentiles, and he a fit man for me to deal with, his lips should never repeat such vituperations;" and as he concluded, he threw one of his embroidered gloves violently on the table before Dudley, who sat opposite.

"Peace, gentlemen," cried Winthrop, rising with dignity, and looking alternately at one and the other. "Forget not that ye are brethren, and that upon your harmony depends the prosperity of our Zion, If ye who are of the household of faith permit idle bickerings to divide your hearts, how can ye expect the blessing of Heaven on your labors? If the cement to hold together the stones of the temple be untempered mortar, must not the fabric fall, and bury the worshippers in its ruins? If you love me, Captain Endicott, my brave and generous, but hasty friend, take up your glove; if you have respect for the high station you so worthily fill, noble Dudley, extend your hand in token of amity, and assure our brother that no offence was designed."

The time occupied by the governor had afforded opportunity for the passions of the two gentlemen to cool, and for them to become sensible of the unbecoming parts they were playing. As if they had at the same instant arrived at a like conclusion, Endicott reached forward to pick up his gauntlet, while Dudley stretched out his open palm. It was grasped by the other, and the two men wrung each other's hand as if whatever might be their private quarrels, they were resolved to stand by one another against the rest of the world.

"I crave forgiveness," said Dudley, at the same time resuming his seat and speech, "of the honorable Assistants in general, and of my excellent brother Endicott in particular, and beseech them to ascribe the vehemency of my speech to no want of respect for them, but to my zeal in the common service, and to a natural impetuosity. I solemnly protest that my observation pointed at nothing offensive, and that come whence it might, I would resent a wrong to my honored brother as quickly as to myself. Yet I will say, that I marvel that one so familiar with the nature of wounds as my honorable and dear friend, the worthy founder of our infant commonwealth, (and this is an ancient and increasing evil,) should not know that old wounds require rather vinegar than oil, the cautery instead of unguents. As a member of the persecuted Church, I will not allow the declarations of a brother of that holy and mystical body to be overborne and set at naught by an ill liver like this Philip Joy. I say that men have become too free in uttering their licentious imaginations about those who are placed by God's Providence above them for their soul's good and bodies' health, and that an example should be made to repress the gossip of light tongues and evil thinkers. In punishing this Joy, (who might more properly be called mourning,) we exalt the honor of the congregation, one of whose sons, even in your presence, and with intent to dishonor you, he has abused with perverse epithets, while at the same time we strike a wholesome terror into others in like case to offend."

He ceased, and looked around as if to gather the suffrages of his associates, but since the little interruption to their harmony, the wary Assistants were too politic, by word or sign, to betray a bias, so that he beheld only downcast eyes, and countenances purposely vacant, in order to conceal the thoughts of their owners.

It was now the turn of the Governor to express his opinion, and as he opened his lips, all eyes were fastened on him. His manner was grave, yet soft and persuasive, and a desire was manifest to pursue a course which should offend none, but reconcile differences by yielding something to all.

"Tumultuosa libertas", (he said, commencing his remarks a Latin quotation,) "tranquilitati probrosœ anteponenda est, and in the lively observations we have heard, I mark not the signs of dissension, but of free thought, having in view the honor of God and the welfare of his little flock scattered abroad in a strange land. But the good shepherd will yet gather the dispersed into his arms, and gently lead them through green pastures and by still waters. Our Israel owes you thanks, brethren, for the vigilance wherewith ye watch the walls of Jerusalem, and are quick to spy the lurking wolf and ravening bear. If the watchmen sleep, what shall become of the city? But her strong towers of defence and bulwarks are ye, emulous only to show your love.

"It hath been said—to come more immediately to the matter in hand—that the vice of evil speaking of dignities had greatly increased, and needed to be repressed. It is so, and cannot be denied; and I would thereupon note a caution to my brethren, and that is, the necessity of rather discouraging that democratical spirit which is threatening to sweep away all distinctions, and to strip the Assistants themselves of necessary power. It is an insubordination, whereof foul breaths, licentious imaginations, and undisciplined tongues, are the inciters and fomenters. Now, if one can legitimately be proved guilty of the offence, I would be forward as well for the salutary discipline of the offender as highest weal of the state, to visit him with a due measure of punishment. But it behooves the court to see that the charge is proved.

"In the present case, even although the testimony of the principal witness were thrown out, which, howbeit, cannot be done, he standing unimpeached before us, yet there remains sufficient from the testimony of the second, the truth of which is not denied by the prisoner, to convince us that something light and trivial has been uttered reflecting upon the godly Mr. Cotton, whose edifying discourses were degraded beneath the value of a song. This is in a manner to impeach the sanctity of religion, by making light of the character of her ministers. As for what the prisoner said touching the magistrates, I trust that it is true, and am disposed to connect no evil intent therewith. My judgment is to pronounce him guilty of using indecorous language respecting a minister of the gospel, and to condemn him therefor in a light fine, to help replenish our lean treasury."

"Did not the right worshipful Governor remark the profane exclamation of the prisoner even in this presence?" inquired Spikeman.

"None, Master Spikeman," answered Winthrop. "I did indeed observe that the prisoner, in one instance, commenced what I supposed was the word 'accursed,' but checked himself in mid utterance as if sensible that it was unmeet to be spoken, which rather savors of respect than of the contrary."

But the Assistant shook his head. "I have seldom seen," he said, "a more stiff-necked and perverse offender, and one more deserving of many stripes."

Hereupon followed a discussion of some length, which terminated favorably to the opinions of the Deputy Governor and of the Assistant Spikeman, and it was finally agreed that Joy should be found guilty, generally, and condemned to be confined for the space of one month, in irons, to a fine of £5, and to banishment from the colony. This result was not attained without strong resistance from Winthrop, who strove to mitigate the punishment to a fine, and from Endicott, who endeavored to obtain remission of the banishment; but in vain—the vehemence of Dudley, and the insinuations of Spikeman, overbore all opposition.

Upon the conclusion being arrived at, Joy was placed again before the Governor, who, with a grieved look, pronounced sentence, and immediately dismissed the Court.

CHAPTER II.