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."