The Knight of the Golden Melice Part 29

On the evening of the seventh day after their departure, they approached the village of the Taranteens. The whole company halted at a little distance from it, and the returning Indians shouted a peculiar cry, after which they proceeded more leisurely on their way.

The yell had been heard and understood, for soon were seen advancing, groups of men, women, and children. These, upon joining their friends, manifested none of that stolid indifference, which it has been the pleasure of certain writers to ascribe to the natives, forgetting that by nature the same feelings animate the hearts of all men, whatever may be the degree of their civilization, or the color of their skin.

On the contrary, there were smiling faces and tones of welcome, and other demonstrations, that proved the existence of affection. The squaws and children looked askance at the strangers, but their glances were rather timid than obtrusive, and augured no unfavorable prepossessions. Accompanied by a constantly increasing number, our friends were conducted to a lodge in the centre of the village, which they were told they would occupy during their stay. It was carefully covered with bark, and, as usual, skins were hanging on the sides, and lying on the ground for couches, and there were some cooking utensils, made of clay, on one side. Such were all the articles const.i.tuting the simple _menage_ of the child of nature, and completed his idea of necessary furniture. Here the strangers were left by their guides, though several of the tribe remained lingering around the wigwam.

"Thus far," said the Knight, stretching himself out on a skin, for in whatever circ.u.mstances he might be placed, he was always at his ease, "hath heaven breathed favoring airs into our sails. We will accept the omen and be hopeful for the future."

"No more skilful amba.s.sador, it seems to me," said Arundel, "ever mediated betwixt mighty governments than thyself, Sir Christopher.

Why, Ephraim Pike was right, and I did injustice to his hang-dog look when I distrusted him."

"What said he?" inquired the Knight.

"That our journey would be a mere pleasure flight, unattended with danger."

"He would have found it different had he undertaken it," muttered Sir Christopher. "And was it Ephraim who advised thee to a.s.sociate thyself with me?"

"He did not presume to advise. I scarcely know how it happened, but as I accidentally met the man, the conversation turned upon thy enterprise, of the dangers whereof he made light."

"There is some mystery," said the Knight, "connected with this. Be sure the obscure varlet would not have sought thee out for such a purpose of his own motion, but was instigated thereto by another."

"Who could that be, and with what motive?"

"Nay, I judge no man; but, perhaps, it so happened that they who intended harm conferred a favor."

At this moment they saw approaching through the opening in the lodge a couple of squaws, bearing in their hands earthen pots, from which a warm steam was issuing. These they brought straight into the wigwam, and, placing them before the white men, invited them to eat. After a few words from the Knight, which the smiling faces of the women showed were well received, they retired, and the two friends addressed themselves to a business seldom disagreeable, and specially pleasant to them. In the one vessel they found pieces of broiled venison, and in the other a composition at that time peculiar to the Indians, but which has since become a favorite in New England, and still retains its Indian name of "succotash." It is a dish consisting of sweet corn and beans boiled together, and savored with some kind of meat, according to the taste. The meat preferred by the vitiated taste of the whites is pork; but inasmuch as swine were unknown at the time in the country, except in the civilized settlements--the unclean animal having been introduced by the Europeans--its place in the present instance was supplied by the more wholesome bear's meat, for such the experienced palate of the Knight p.r.o.nounced it to be. At the completion of the meal, although it was early according to our habits, the unbroken silence that reigned around indicated that the Indians had retired to rest, and the two weary travelers, imitating their example, threw themselves on their couches.

Some hours had pa.s.sed since they laid themselves down to sleep, when the Knight arose, and, after glancing at his companion, started, with a light and noiseless step, to leave the wigwam. At the opening he found a Taranteen, whom his stirring had wakened. With him the Knight exchanged some whispered words, and then took his way in the moonlight toward a lodge situated near the centre of the village, and conspicuous for its size. He met no interruption, and having arrived at the entrance, drew aside the skin which served for a door. The first object which caught his eye was a flame proceeding from some pieces of a resinous wood, which were supported by a sort of iron trestle standing on a rude table in the centre, and sending up spirals of smoke to escape by an aperture above. By means of the light which this cast, he was enabled to take a view of the apartment.

It was of an oblong shape, some forty feet long by twenty wide, and coming to a line at the top, and at first seemed dest.i.tute of furniture and of occupants. As the Knight stood hesitating, a voice from the remotest part of the wigwam addressed him.

"Welcome!" it said, in French, "true son of the Church! valiant soldier of the Cross! servant of Heaven! My soul hath been in travail to see thee; and now, _laus Deo_, its desire is gratified."

The Knight advanced in the direction whence the voice proceeded, and when he had pa.s.sed on so far that his back was to the light, could see the speaker. He was one who, whatever were the mistakes of his creed, seems to have been animated by a purpose lofty to himself, and an ardent faith in its truth, and, therefore, honor be to his memory, as well as to all other brave spirits, who, like him, (though erring,) forget themselves for others. But he is worthy of description.

He was a man of about sixty years of age, somewhat under the middle size, but strongly made, and evidently capable of enduring great fatigue. His eyes were black and piercing, his complexion so dark as to be almost olive, and his features regular, the mouth being small and sharply chiseled and compressed. Thick, long, white hair covered his whole head, with the exception of a small round spot on the crown which was bare, revealing the mark of the priest, and fell upon his shoulders. He was habited in a long, closely-fitting robe of some coa.r.s.e material, which had once been black, but was now faded and tarnished by time and exposure, and a hempen rope to keep it in place was girded about his loins. Such, as we have described him, was the famous Father Le Vieux, one of the most active and devoted among the French Jesuits in America.

Father Le Vieux had risen from his seat, and was advancing toward his visiter, when the latter first beheld him. As the two men drew nigh, the Knight sunk on his knees at the feet of the priest.

"_Salve fili mi!_" said the father, laying his hands on the head of the kneeling Sir Christopher. "_Beatus qui venit in nomine Domini_.

Arise, my son!" he continued, in French, taking the Knight by the hand, and a.s.sisting him. "Thy companion, I trust, sleeps soundly."

"He is asleep, reverend father," answered the Knight, in the same language, "like one who has made a covenant with his eyes not to open them before morning."

"May the blessed angels press their palms thereupon, that he awaken not. Now, then, disclose to me what, for our mutual purpose, it is meet that I should know."

With these words, he led the way into that part of the lodge whence he came, and was followed by Sir Christopher, who sat down by his side on a sort of bench.

"First, reverend father," said Sir Christopher, "would I confess my sins and obtain absolution. It is long since my bosom's stains were wiped out by authority of Holy Church, and my soul languishes for forgiveness."

"Kneel, then, and on peril of thy salvation keep nothing back."

Sir Christopher, with bowed head, knelt by his side, and, in low-murmured tones, while the priest bowed down to him his ear, made his confession. It lasted some considerable time, for which reason the good father betrayed a little impatience, either because he thought that the sins were too trivial to be dwelt upon so long, or because he was anxious to hear the communication of his penitent on other matters. At its conclusion, he placed his hand on the Knight's head, and said:

"The sins which, with a penitent heart and lively faith, thou hast confessed, not having wilfully concealed anything, and determined by G.o.d's grace to commit them no more, do I, a servant of Holy Church, commissioned for that purpose by the successor of blessed St. Peter, whose are the sacred keys, and unto whom and his fellow-servants it was promised by the Head of the Church, 'whatsoever ye bind on earth shall be bound in Heaven, and whatsoever ye loose on earth shall be loosed in Heaven,' absolve thee from, and unbind and remit unto thee, both in time and in eternity, _in nomine Patris, Filii, et Spiritus Sancti_. Amen. Rise and sin no more. And now, make thy report."

The Knight rose from his knees and resumed his seat, whereupon ensued a long conversation.

It referred to the condition of the colony under Winthrop, and of the elder settlement at Plymouth; the prospect of their increase; the dissensions among them; the relations maintained with the savages, and influence exerted over them; and, in short, to whatever bore upon the present circ.u.mstances and probable destiny of the two races. The occurrences at the reception of the Taranteen emba.s.sy were also detailed--the appearance of Sa.s.sacus, the excitement of the Indians, and the consequences which followed.

"I found it hard," said Sir Christopher, "to allay their wild pa.s.sion on the discovery of the Pequot Chief. I had to urge upon them that they were committed to my care by you (I had before received your missive from one of them) and that instant destruction would follow any act of violence. I reminded them that their mission was one of peace, and endeavored to shame them for exhibiting so much feeling at the sight of a single warrior. Nor was I blinded by their apparent submission, but strove to remove the Pequot out of their way. With how little success you know."

Father Le Vieux listened with profound attention, and from time to time made memoranda in his tablets of those parts of the communication which possessed for him the deepest interest. At its conclusion, he continued silent awhile, looking thoughtfully on the ground, as if deliberating over what he had heard.

"The thoughts of man are vanity," he said, at length. "In a way that we dreamed not of hath Almighty Wisdom delivered us from this peril.

Vainly, in our ignorance, we strove to prevent a meeting between the Taranteens and the English heretics; and lo, it was the very thing to be desired! They were brought together only to be more widely divided, and a commencing friends.h.i.+p has ended in a confirmed enmity. Blessed be the Pequot, and mitigated be the pains of purgatory to the poor savages who fell in the night attack, for the good they have done. We are now safe from this danger."

The father paused, as if reflecting, and then again spoke.

"It would be strange," he said, "and the thought itself seems impious, if this goodly land, with its thousands of immortal souls, should be delivered over into the hands of these accursed heretics. My heart is troubled, and a sacred horror invades me when I think thereupon. This is a time of tribulation, and our faces gather blackness. Holy Mary!"

he continued, (crossing himself and raising his eyes to Heaven,) "intercede with thy glorified Son to quicken our faith and shorten the days of our trouble. Let not these insatiable locusts from the pit of darkness, whose end is destruction--these deceivers and deceived, who would tear down thy church, and defile her altars, have, even in seeming, their will! O, let a strong wind arise and cast them into the sea, that they may devour thy heritage no more!"

"Amen, and Amen!" responded the sweet voice of Sir Christopher. "So may all the enemies of the church peris.h.!.+ But O, holy father, sad is it to see so much heroism in men, so much resigned fort.i.tude in delicate women, such wonderful courage, such patience wasted, in promoting error."

"_Quam diu Domine!_" exclaimed the father. "The days of man are but as a shadow and a tale that is told. He cometh out of darkness, and returneth thither again. But thy years, O Lord, are everlasting, and thy counsels like the great deep. O, stamp this truth on our hearts, and it shall cure our impatience. How long Divine Wisdom shall permit the raging waves of this pestilential heresy of the arch-deceiver, the licentious Luther, to beat against His church, threatening as with the jaws of h.e.l.l to devour her, it is not for man to know; but we do know that they cannot prevail, for she is founded on a rock, and bought with a great ransom, and the Word of G.o.d is pledged to her triumph.

But it becomes every true son of Holy Church to have his loins girded, and to let no weakness of the flesh or fainting of the spirit interfere, to delay that hoped-for time when this miserable delusion shall disappear. Verily, heavy is the task imposed on feeble shoulders; but in the strength of One who can supply strength, will we prevail."

"Has any information," inquired Sir Christopher, "been received respecting the new colony to be planted under Lord Baltimore, in Maryland, or promise of a.s.sistance from our friends at home?"

"The English Catholics," answered Father Le Vieux, "are lukewarm. The air of their foggy isle is tainted. Not much do I expect from this Cecil, Lord Baltimore. He is, forsooth, a philosopher--a man who stands half the time upon his head--for he is one of them who are puffed up with conceit of worldly knowledge, and who, in contradiction of Holy Scripture, a.s.sert, with Galileo Galilei, that this world is a ball which daily turns round. His company has not arrived, and never may arrive. Not on the timorous and doubting English Catholics, but on my own brave countrymen and the faithful Spaniards, must we rely for the accomplishment of the heaven-inspired thought of our great founder, the immortal Loyola."

"Expect you," inquired Sir Christopher, "to convert these English colonies into dependencies of France or Spain?"

"To you and to me, and every true Catholic, it is of little consequence whether they be French, or Spanish, or English colonies, so they be gathered into the bosom of Mother Church. Of how little moment are the transitory things of time, our poor distinctions of nationalities, our weak prejudices, our loves and hates, in comparison with eternity and its determinations. Then, in that other world, there will be neither French, nor English, nor Spanish, but 'the blessed of the Father,' to enter the kingdom prepared for them; or howling heretics, whose doom is fire unquenchable."

"Holy Father," said the Knight, "I pray you to forgive me; but, in my ignorance, I by no means approve of your design, nor have I confidence in its success. Consider the consequence, should even a suspicion of it be entertained by the Government of England. These colonies are now regarded as only nests of wild sectaries, who have fled from restraint at home to indulge fanatical imaginations in a wilderness. At present, they are neglected and despised by the general, none, save those of their own infatuated faith, thinking of, or countenancing them; but, let it be once surmised that France or Spain is attempting, either by fraud or violence, to set foot among them, and you will see the whole force of the kingdom in arms to counteract your plot, and thousands of heretic emigrants will arrive, where now only a few make their appearance."

"My son, it is easier to crush error in the egg than in the full-grown serpent. But forget you not that you are only a secular coadjutor, and therefore bound simply to obey?"

"_Peccavi_," said the Knight, bending his head.

"_Absolvo_. I espied this weakness in the confession of sins, and now solemnly warn thee against it. Attend, my son, and be my words remembered. I perceive in thee a jealousy of the political power of other nations, when they conflict with thine own. This, to the untutored mind of the vulgar, seems commendable, yet do I reprehend it, and say unto it, '_Apage, Sathanas!_' as the fruitfull seed of discord betwixt nations, and an impediment in the march of the Church.

As high as the concerns of Heaven transcend those of earth, do the interests of the true and universal Church those of the petty kingdoms which, for their own good, she subjects to her control. They are not to be thought of when her magnificent voice is heard. Who is it speaks from the chair of St. Peter, but the Vicegerent of G.o.d? Who is Vitalleschi, our chief, but another accredited instrument to accomplish the salvation of the nations? And if it be the duty of every Catholic to set the welfare of the Church before all other considerations, and to die a thousand deaths before abandoning it, how much more is it the life-business of each member of the Society of Jesus to sacrifice all things for her! Power, wealth, fame, life, and honor, which some value more than life, what are they all when weighed against that one duty and the reward that awaits its observance? The principles of the blessed Company of Jesus are not the crude fancies of some crazy heretic, nor suggestions of man's unguided reason, but they are conclusions of wise men inspired by the Holy Spirit, and infallibly directed to truth! Such thou and I have acknowledged them to be by becoming members of the Order, and thereby a.s.suming its obligations. My faith burns daily brighter--each obstacle but inflames my zeal. If, by my martyrdom, I could advance our cause one hour, how gladly would I lay down a life worthless, if not spent in the service of the Church."

Father Le Vieux paused, his fine face beaming with enthusiasm, while the Knight bent again his head, and, kissing the priest's hand, murmured "_Peccavi_."

"Thy faithfulness I commend," resumed the father, "but as thy spiritual guide, I warn thee against human weakness. It is a mighty discourager of great undertakings. Only by faith and remembrance of what thou art vowed to, can it be overcome. Nor doubt, though thou dost not clearly understand, and but little progress seems to be made.

Remember that though we must soon depart, the Society of Jesus remains. Our Order may be as the drops of water perpetually falling on a rock, which are dashed into fragments by the fall; yet is the fate of the repelling body inevitable, and, after centuries, it is doomed to be washed away."

"Reverend Father," said the Knight, "I will bury thy words, in my mind, and often meditate upon them."