The Knight of the Golden Melice: A Historical Romance

by John Turvill Adams

"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.

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.