Penelope's Suitors
1639, Mo. 1,1. Long time hath over-past since I arrived in the colony of the Massachusetts, and long neglected hath been the keeping of a certain resolve made when first I set foot upon these shores. As we came hither on the good ship Susan and Ellen, I had much discourse with Madam Richard Saltonstall, who claimeth a sort of kinship with brother Herbert, through his wife, the sometime widow Walgrave, by reason of which she showed me great civility and gave me store of wise counsels. Amongst the many was one to keep a journal of what notable things should befall in this new world I was coming to. I repent me that I have not more speedily followed her valued advice, albeit no very great nor tragic event hath yet transpired.
Touching my first impressions of this same new world, truly I am not like to forget my grievous disappointment. I had fair imaginings of something like Arcady, but it seemeth not at all Arcadian on nearer view, while the poor little town of Boston filleth the beholder with neither awe nor admiration. I dare not declare my mind in this respect by reason of giving offense to the good people hereabout, who affect to find it a paradise. Sure I am that without the town it is indeed a very wilderness, — yea, and filled, too, with wild beasts and savages, as I am assured, and have indeed the proof of my own senses; for the former, I hear them roar o’ nights, and for the latter, I have beheld them walking the streets, and profess myself in such deadly terror if one do but so much as draw near me that I can scarce forbear to cry out. I am told, and can well believe it, that they have no scruple of making a meal of an Englishman, if they can but once beguile him into the forest. They have here, moreover, numbers of blackamoors, which are kept for slaves ; they are quite harmless and by no means of an aspect so terrible as the savages. But for all that, I care not for one of them to come too closely into my neighborhood, nor touch anything I am to eat; nor can I be persuaded but that soap and water might alter their hue. For the Bostoners themselves, the leaders in this little world, are, for the most part, folk of some birth and breeding, and affect, as they may, a little state. ‘T is odd to see the modes still in vogue here that are long time bygones at home. Certain of my own gowns which I have esteemed in no wise noteworthy have, I hear, caused a great buzzing among the worthy dames of Boston.
On landing, brother John and I went straightway to brother William’s plantation at Cambridge, which is three miles and over from the town. We found brother grown already to be a person of great consequence. They have here set up a small school, which they call a college, and have made Herbert treasurer thereof.2 He hath a large plantation and a fair house, with a troop of people, amongst which are several blackamoors. By reason of brother’s influence I have received much civility from everybody. Many ladies of the best fashion from the town have waited upon me, and I have returned their visits; amongst them I have made several friends, and thus no longer feel like a stranger on these remote shores.
Mo. 1, 7. To-day I repaired to town with brother, on a pillion, to wait upon Madam Winthrop, wife of the governor. While I sat discoursing quietly with the governor’s lady, on a sudden there arose a great tumult without, and anon came trooping into the house a horde of savages, with one of their most redoubted sachems at their head, Unkus by name. I had well-nigh swooned with terror but that Madam Winthrop seemed in no wise disturbed, and bade me not to fear. Indeed, when I had somewhat recovered I could not but remark the savages behaved with great decorum. The worshipful governor came presently downstairs to see them, attended by one of the magistrates. I know not what passed but that the sachem proffered some strings of Indian money, which the governor refused, by reason of some offense committed by the savages. Truly, the governor is a bold man who dare thus anger the heathen. When the powwow was over the governor came and spake graciously to me, and thereupon Madam Winthrop finished by craving a visit of several days. I could not refuse assent to such civility, and so ’t is concluded I shall come this day week. Brother Herbert presently appeared at the door, whereat I mounted behind him, and after some words of leave-taking we set forth homeward.
Mo. 1, 14. Yesterday, about four o’clock post meridian, brother Herbert brought me hither to Madam Winthrop’s, in answer to her gracious invitation. She welcomed me hospitably, and ushered me presently up to a large chamber, where I unpacked my portmanteau and set my dress in order. At supper the table was fairly set forth with store of good cheer, which I opine the worshipful governor loveth right well. There was I presented to the family, several daughters and sons, of whom Mr. WaitStill chiefly drew my attention, a grave and comely young man, who regarded me narrowly, and offered me divers civilities. The discourse was mostly of the wmekly lecture, which took place today, for which I arrived not in time. I marveled to hear that the teacher, the Reverend Mr. Cotton, therein inveighed loudly against wearing of lace veils over the face, which is newly the mode. Master Cotton, it seemeth, spake bitterly of the practice as sinful and abominable, arguing a corrupt heart. At all this I was much perturbed, as I came hither with a smart new veil cast over my tiffany hood ; and though in my blindness I perceive not that my heart is more corrupt, yet may I be deceived, and this mayhap prove a snare of the devil to lure us through vanity on to sin. Alack, how countless are the wiles of the tempter ! Nothing, surely, seemeth more innocent than this film of network; ’t is pity if it be a sin, for it marvelously enhanceth the comeliness of an indifferent face.
Mo. 1, 20. I become acquainted with the family, and rest well content. Here is much more astir than at home, for besides that the governor hath divers visitors upon ceremony and business daily, his dwelling is placed upon the chief street, where is much passing to and fro. It is a large house, quite plain without, but well-ordered within. Both the governor and madam are most gracious to me, and account themselves kinsfolk, it seemeth, with brother Herbert, through his wife. Yesterday Mr. Wait-Still came civilly and bade me forth for an outing. We walked upon the Centry Field, and thence by the seashore to Mr. Blackstone his garden, where we had good prospect of the sun’s setting.
Mo. 1, 23. Dined to-day at Mr. Increase Nowell’s ; the governor and lady, cousins Saltonstall, Mr. William Hibbins and lady, Mr. Richard Bellingham, made the company. The latter sat by my side and discoursed with me, a man of majestic port and face most proud. He fixed upon me a pair of gloomful eyes, deep set beneath shaggy brows, whose glance seemed able to search out my hidden thoughts. I found myself in great awe, and sat with downcast eyes, stammering like a fool. Indeed, in everything I behaved rather like a raw rustic wench than a young gentlewoman of breeding, for which I was grievously ashamed; but truly I have never yet encountered a man, of whatsoever rank, who hath wrought upon me such an influence. Opposite at the table sat Madam Hibbins,3 a sister, ’t is said, of Mr. Bellingham; she hath a shrewish face and keen eyes, which she kept, methought, more often than needful bent upon me, as marveling what qualities her brother could find in me worthy attention.
Mo. 1, 24. The Lord’s Day. I was taken into the church on confession of faith, signing and accepting the covenants thereof. With me were one Mistress Elizabeth Allen and another. May the Lord Jesus Christ justify me through faith, and endue me with grace to keep his holy ordinances. Went thrice to meeting; strove sedulously to mortify the flesh and keep my thoughts on heavenly things. Bare in mind Mr. Cotton his words at the lecture, and left behind my veil, yet noted several in the congregation who seem not in awe of their teacher’s wrath in this respect. Query whether it be sinful or no.
Mo. 1, 25. Madam Hibbins came betimes to wait upon me. Despite the sharpness of her visage and the keenness of her black eyes, she hath at call some honeyed looks, and these she spared not to bestow lavishly upon me. She hath engaged my attention withal more than any person I have yet encountered. She seemeth a woman of uncommon parts ; her wit is admirable, and her countenance, once seen, not to be forgotten. I had much discourse with her, which truly is no great effort, as she maintaineth the chief part thereof. I noted Madam Winthrop grew somewhat grave and quiet in presence of this visitor. Madam Hibbins was dressed in more splendor than I have yet anywhere seen in the town.
Mo. 1, 26. To-day went with the governor and his lady to the lecture at Dorchester ; afterwards dined with Mr. Dudley, the deputy, who hath a goodly house and a fine garden. Returning betimes, I wait upon Madam Hibbins, who dwelleth a stone’s throw southward of the governor’s mansion. She received me with much favor. I deem myself happy to draw thus far only sunshine from those glittering eyes, which show such good capacity for lightning. As we discoursed there went some one past upon the highway, whom madam, looking from the window, espied, and speedily sent a servant to recall. Directly, thereupon, came in a stranger, whom she presented to me as Mr. Edward Buckley, a young gentleman lately arrived from England, who is a kinsman of her own, and lodgeth with her brother, Mr. Bellingham. He hath excellent breeding and much ease of deportment, He was very civil, and presently quite at home with me. Madam herself was full of gayety : amongst the many droll things she recounted was the history of the new stocks, lately built for the town by one Goodman Palmer, who yet, by reason of demanding too great a price for his handiwork, was himself the first culprit to be thrust in them.
Mo. 1, 27. Came back to Cambridge with brother Herbert, who took me up on his way from market. Bade adieu to Madam Winthrop and her family with regret. It seerneth very dull and dead at home now, after so much bustle and variety of life in town.
Mo. 7, 7. To-day came cousins Saltonstall with Madam Hibbins, who made some pretext for bringing Mr. Buckley in place of her husband, all to dine with us after the lecture. The dinner was boiled fowls, bacon and greens, with store of fresh vegetables and dessert of a gooseberry tart, all washed down with brother William’s best madeira; but had I let slip the secret that the whole repast was cooked by a blackamoor brother hath lately installed in the kitchen, much I fear the gorge of many would have risen, howbeit brother hath no patience with this whimsey of mine.
Mr. Buckley, methought, lent but an indifferent ear to the discussion of the lecture, which was upon the necessity of due recognition of sin in the heart before repentance availeth. The young gentleman busied himself casting sheep’s glances at me, which I affected not to note, but maintained ever a grave and discreet countenance. Nothing daunted by my demeanor, he came straightway dinner was over and set himself to discourse with me. And truly I remarked not before how proper a man he is at all points. He lingered when Madam Hibbins rose to go as be would fain have stayed longer, and on bidding adieu craved the privilege of coming again, which I saw no good ground for gainsaying.
Mo. 7, 10. Yesterday I repaired to town to pay divers visits of ceremony and go about among the shops. There is a monstrous stir among the Boston dames by reason of a law yesterday enacted by the General Court, forbidding all wearing of lace as “ tending to little use or benefit but the nourishing of pride and exhausting men’s estates, and also of evil example to others.” But what seemeth more grievous tyranny is that short sleeves and wide sleeves are likewise frowned upon, it being declared that in no case shall sleeves be made more than half an ell wide in the widest part, which, as every mantuamaker knows, is of no seemly proportion. Many of the dames are outspoken in their vexation, and truly it will go far to make frights of us all.
Going through the market-place, I encountered by chance the worshipful Mr. Bellingham, who very graciously turned about to go with me out of the press. Hardly had we taken a half score steps, however, when forth from some neighboring shop ran Madam Hibbins, with eyes snapping like coals. In her great volubility I know not clearly what she said, but that she told her brother of something demanding his instant attention, and herself carried me off, despite some urgency in my affairs, to dine with her. It was in vain I essayed to refuse ; she hath a manner that overrideth all opposition. At the table was her spouse, who is a man of few words, — I had wellnigh said of none at all, for he spake but once, and that from necessity. Thither came also Mr. Buckley, by chance as they would have it appear, but I suspect from certain looks between them that madam sent him warning on the sly. He seemed, methought, unduly rejoiced to see me, and betrayed an elation which the short sum of our acquaintance doth not warrant. It is hard to quarrel with too great kindliness, but I deemed it proper to summon up a little air of reserve to the young gallant, lest he should deem my acquaintance a thing too lightly to be come by. He failed not to note my change of demeanor, and straightway became anxious to discover the cause : thereto he studied my countenance with such evident concern that I found it most awkward, howbeit I strove to seem unheedful as I discoursed with Madam Hibbins. I had much ado on taking leave to restrain him from coming along with me to Cambridge, a thing not to be thought of.
Mo. 10, 6. A woman, one Dorothy Talbye, was this day hanged upon the Centry Field for killing of her child. There went out a great throng of people to behold the spectacle. I had not warning in time, and so made not one of the number.
Mr. Buckley came, not backward, it seemeth, to avail of the privilege I yielded to wait upon me. I could not but be gracious in my own house, and so made what effort I might to amuse him. He hath good store of knowledge, and converseth with such great propriety and ease as I have not often heard in a young man. He hath, moreover, a merry vein ; he abounds in quaint conceits quite out of the common. I know not when my attention hath been so enthralled ; two hours overpast so speedily I was quite amazed when supper-time came. Brother William civilly bade the young gentleman stay and eat with us, to which, indeed, he seemed nothing loath.
Mo. 10, 10. Yesterday came to town to visit with Madam Saltonstall. She calleth me cousin (which is only by compliment), and is in every way most cordial. I weut with her to the lecture ; saw many acquaintances. Madam Hibbins well-nigh embraced me. She walked some part of the way home with us, and on parting Madam Saltonstall extracted from her a promise to come soon and sup with us. It was due to this encounter, no doubt, that I was honored in the evening by a visit from Mr. Buckley. I was much put out of countenance at first, lest Madam Saltonstall should suppose I had connived at his coming, or secretly bidden him hither. I was therefore most grateful when presently he announced that he had been surprised to hear from his cousin of my being in town. He put me further to the blush by protracting his stay till eleven o’clock. I was greatly scandalized, and madam had much ado to suppress her yawns in his face, which he heeded not at all. For all of that, madam commended him this morning, and said, with a sly glance at me, " He hath a very persuasive way,” which I affected not to hear.
Mo. 10, 12. To-day, it being warm, we went a short voyage upon the water, to wit, to Governor’s Island : Mr. Richard Bellingham, Mr. Bradstreet, two of the magistrates, Madam Bradstreet, and the Saltonstalls, being of the party. We visited the fortifications ; were received with great respect by reason of the magistrates. I was in causeless dread lest they should discharge guns in our honor. On the homeward way it so fell out my seat was beside Mr. Bellingham, and quite too close to please me. I am not yet cured of my awe of him, and find it quite impossible, in such trepidation, to hold any reasonable discourse. Indeed, I made such inconsequent answers to his queries as must needs have persuaded him I was fresh escaped from a madhouse.
The same evening, as it chanced, came Madam Hibbins and her husband to sup with us ; she said her brother spake of meeting me upon the boat, and of pleasant intercourse betwixt us. ’T is a marvel he should remember so small a circumstance, unless indeed he mocks at me, which I can hardly suspect in one of such gravity. I noted Madam Hibbins narrowly scanning my face while recounting the above, as finding in it I know not what matter of suspicion. Cousin Saltonstall saith she keepeth ever a jealous eye upon her rich brother, lest his marriage should destroy a certain fair prospect she hath of becoming his heir.
Mo. 10, 15. This day I waited upon divers of ray acquaintances, Madam Saltonstall accompanying. Later came Mr. Buckley, and invited me forth to climb the Tramount and behold the sunset. I sought a pretext for denial, but. while I strove to fetch forth something worthy by way of excuse Madam Saltoustall (I know not what evil spirit prompted her) cut off all chance of retreat by crying out, “ Truly, cousin Penelope, if you mind not the toil of ascent, ’t is a sublime spectacle, I am told, and one not to be matched hereabout. ’T will soon be covered with snow, when your chance will be cut off till another year. You may easily be back against supper, when perchance Mr. Buckley will give us his company also.” Hereupon I had no other resource but to set forth. ’T is a mountain of three peaks, the middle one monstrous steep : up the latter part thereof Mr. Buckley fairly dragged me with both hands ; but once upon the summit I could not withhold a cry of joy and admiration. The whole earth, sea, and land seemed outspread beneath us. In my transport I had well-nigh forgot my young gallant, but was soon made aware of his presence by his odd behavior, Standing a short distance apart and gazing at me with rapt attention, by reason, no doubt, of my ecstasy.
“ Madam Saltonstall saith well,” I cried at length : “’t is indeed a sublime spectacle! ”
“ ’T is,” returned he, with eyes still fixed upon me, and heeding not the prospect.
“ Truly there can be nothing else so beautiful in the land ! ”
“ Nothing ! ” reëchoed the swain, still staring.
“ I marvel all the world cometh not hither to admire.”
“So i’ faith they would, could they but see with my eyes,” still glaring boldly into my very face, which now for the first time I became aware of, and perceiving his intent straightway reddened like a rose. ’T is a marvel what hardihood men have to stare thus at a person, till she must e’en lose countenance if she be not altogether brazen ; and this Mr. Buckley is by no means the meekest of his sex. I sat me down anon upon a stone, and strove to regain my lost ease by comments on the scene.
“ Truly,” I said, giving vent to the first reflection that came to hand, albeit somewhat trite, “ nature hath multifarious aspects, and all beautiful.”
“ And yet,” returneth my gentleman, fetching a sigh as he threw himself on the hard ground at my feet, — “yet is there something more beautiful still than nature.”
“ I can conceive of nothing such upon the earth.”
“ Yet one there is, beyond all cavil.”
“ I am curious to learn it.”
“ ’T is the sight of the one we love,” saith he, eying me askance. I marvel I waxed not angry at such persistent returning upon so delicate a topic, but I found myself strangely forbearing even when he went the length, which he presently did, of plying me with questions.
“ Think you not so ?” quoth he.
“ I have never yet had occasion for such a thought,” I answered discreetly.
Then sighed he again, and said he knew not whether to deem me fortunate or unhappy. By dint of turning a deaf ear to his innuendoes and discoursing only of the prospect I presently gave him a hint of my displeasure, and saved myself from further tormenting. Yet otherwise must I in fairness confess he was most duteous and concerned for my comfort; and ended by climbing the beacon for my diversion, vowing he would even fire the pot of tar at my bidding, at the risk of the stocks for himself. He hath a figure full of grace and a countenance hard to pick a flaw in, all of which I find more apparent than at first.
On coming home, Madam Saltonstall renewed her entreaty. Mr. Buckley, nothing averse, as it would seem, joined us at supper, and thereafter stayed for the evening, in course whereof it came out that I am in thought to depart homewards to-morrow, if brother Herbert come to town. Thereupon it transpireth “ most opportunely,” as he saith, that Mr. Buckley goeth himself to Cambridge to-morrow upon pressing affairs of business, and offereth me his company upon the way, if so happen brother come not. Whiles I hesitate what to say Madam Saltonstall chimeth in again, and straightway plucketh from me all semblance of reasonable excuse, till there is no decent ground for negation.
Mo. 10, 16. This morning, contrary to our expectations, brother Herbert duly appeared, and thereupon I was thrown into a most strange and inconsequent frame of mind. There was (item) a mixture of triumph that Mr. Buckley should for once be thwarted, and (item) a mixture of chagrin — very odd, to be sure — that I am to lose his society. But as we stood leave-taking at the door, lo and behold, there cometh my gallant along the street, and not to be discountenanced proposeth himself a member of our party, which brother Herbert very graciously accepteth. Upon the road he so beguileth the time by arts he is well skilled in that brother bid him come to us to dine ; and thereafter, a storm threatening, it needeth small persuasion to decide him to stay the night; nor yet is there any appearance of the weighty matters upon which he came hither.
Mo. 10, 17. By the coming in of a ship yesterday we have letters from home. Sister Betty talketh of coming hither to join us. Sister Helena condemneth herself to a life of virginity — needlessly, methinks — by reason of her black-pudding arm. There is yet no talk of brother Anthony being contracted in marriage, while sister Catherine hath been lately brought to bed with a fine boy. These news awaited us coming home from an excursion which hath occupied the day. Brother Herbert took us to visit his new plantation at Sudberry, where he hath a house already set up. Took along a servant with a hamper, containing wherewithal to dine. Cousin Walgrave and lady of the party ; likewise Mr. Buckley, still strangely forgetful of the momentous affairs which brought him hither. No one hath been of such cheerful mien nor so full of quaint and careless discourse as he the livelong day. We were so late coming home that the young gentleman scrupled not to lodge with us again. Thereto I was constrained to add my voice to brother William’s, as it seemed not fit he should make the journey to Boston alone, with the night coming on.
1640, Mo. 3. 14. Mr. Buckley hath been twice within the week to visit us. I marvel he findeth it worth while to come so far for the fleeting pleasure of a little talk ; brother and I. however, discourage not his comings, as he bringeth ever news of the latest doings in town.
Mo. 3, 18. To-day, after the lecture, came Mr. Increase Nowell and lady and Mr. Bellingham, the worshipful deputy, upon brother’s invitation to dine with us. I was dismayed again to find Mr. Bellingham at my side, with the obligation upon me of holding converse with him. I plucked up my drooping courage to look him at least in the face, which causeth me ever a sensation I cannot describe ; he hath eyes so dark, penetrating, and mournful. I studied him askance when he addressed brother Herbert, and was amazed to find a kind of grand beauty to his countenance, — a nose, a mouth, ay, and chin, that might well have been chiseled forth from marble, so fine, so massive, they are, and withal so inflexible ; a mien of power he hath, and such as I have never before beheld. I recall not one word of all that was said ; I yielded a silly assent to every question, without the smallest heed to the matter thereof. Despite my craven air and great awkwardness, Mr. Bellingham bestowed upon me the most of his attention, so that ere the repast was over I had somewhat recovered my assurance.
Mo. 5, 10. Twice in the course of the past week hath Mr. Buckley been here, and thus by degrees brought things to such a point of intimacy that he no longer deemeth it worth while to frame pretexts for coming.
Mo. 7, 2. Brother hath lately built a small ketch for sailing upon the river, and yesterday we all essayed an expedition to town therein. With a favoring wind we had a speedy passage. Cousin Walgrave and lady met us. Mr. Buckley took upon him the conduct of the ketch, and showed great dexterity. Brother thinketh to make it of much use in traffic to the town. Returning, the wind was adverse, and we were several hours beaten hither and thither by the waves, so ‘t was long after nightfall when we came ashore. Then befell an accident, which, albeit not at all tragical, hath yet given me much food for reflection. As brother hath not yet a proper landing, we were constrained to come ashore near some large stones, by which we thought to step dry-shod to land. It so chanced that in the dark I missed my footing, and thinking myself about to fall uttered a cry ; whereupon Mr. Buckley, without more ado, leaped at once into the water, seized me tightly in his arms, and bore me safely to the shore; exhibiting such great solicitude and concern for my safety as I was not prepared for. Thereafter he left not my side, but made me lean upon his arm as we walked through the dark woods, the others following. As we went I conceived it meet in me to express my gratitude for his good offices.
“ Thank God,” he cried with emotion, “ that no harm hath befallen you ! ”
‘‘Nay,” I returned, “my silly fright impelled you into needless peril.”
“ There is no peril I would not encounter for your sake. Oh, Mistress Pelham,”he cried ardently, the while I trembled lest he was about to seize me in his transport, — “ oh, if I could but in some way prove my devotion to you ! ”
“ Surely,” I replied, without much regarding the purport of my words, “ there needeth no stronger proof than this of to-night.”
“ Say you so ? ” he exclaimed, stopping suddenly and looking down upon me through the gloom, “ Oh, that I dare think myself worthy your regard!”
“ Truly,” I made answer in all honesty,
“ I know no sufficient cause why you are not.”
“ Penelope,” cried he then, in seeming ecstasy, clutching the while fast hold of my hands, “may I — do you mean — Oh, can I believe that yon love me, then ? ”
“ Nay,” I began, taken all aback and seized with a sudden trembling, “ I cannot say. It” —
“ What! what! Speak ! ” he broke in, with the greatest vehemency.
“ It taketh my breath,” I gasped. “ I must have time to think.”
The others here suddenly coming up, there was an end of it. How we came home I know not, only I know sleep visited not my pillow the livelong night thereafter. I could not by any means still my perturbed nerves, nor calm the beating of my heart. What passed between us may indeed prove to me of very tragical import. Accordingly have I examined well my heart upon the master, and find there without doubt a very tender consideration for this young man. This I can trace in some small measure back to our first acquaintance, but since he spake out last night it hath flamed up prodigiously. Beyond a doubt this must be love. Then if it be, my content will depend on its continuance. But what said I to him ? Not a word of hope. Will he gather discouragement from that, and forbear further following up the matter ? I tremble to think of such a possibility. Yet can I not in maidenly modesty break silence. Whatever construction he putteth upon it, that must I accept.
Mo. 7, 3. Yesterday the long day passed, and there came to me no token. To-day I snatch myself away from these sharp anxieties and biting cares of suspense, and go with brother to Sudberry on matters concerning the plantation. Howbeit, I carry with me a grievous load which will not be left at home. I was indeed so distraught that brother rallied me, which brought me a little to my senses.
We arrived home not until nightfall, and great was my chagrin to learn that Mr. Buckley had been here and waited long for my coming; seeming, ’t is said, in great anxiety.
Mo. 7, 4. To-day a serving-man brought me early a ‘letter from Mr. Buckley ; in my eagerness I snatch it and run away to my chamber, without a thought of bounty to the poor Mercury, who doubtless cursed me for a niggard. Lest any mischance ever come to this precious missive, I here set it forth in my journal; — BELOVED MISTRESS PENELOPE, - Thus I make bold to call you, and leave the future to disclose my warrant. I was grievously disappointed and sore at heart indeed not to find you yesterday at home. I waited till constrained to return by some pressing affairs of state Mr. Bellingham hath confided to my hands. These hold me even now, else should I be at your side wherever you may be found, to say what I must here poorly set forth in these dumb characters. I bitterly reproach myself for my vehemency, that so in the darkness aud the forest I should have no more forethought but to terrify you with the suddenness of my avowal. I deeply repent I had not chosen some more fitting scene for opening my heart to you, but pray you to excuse what was due to the violence of my emotions, and vouchsafe now to listen graciously while I declare how the feeble language I then held cometh far short of expressing the depth and fervor of my great affection for you. All the whole world is now naught to me compared with one little object, and that object I leave you to divine. Indeed, I know not what a barren and arid waste this fair earth would be to me without you. But I will not yet torment myself with such thoughts. I beseech you only consider what anguish aud wretchedness and despair ’t would be to me to know you cannot hearken to me. Upon advisement I have confided my passion to my kinsman Mr. Bellingham ; he so commendeth it as to show that he too hath taken note of the many excellences of your character. Adieu ! I shall fly to you with the first moment of freedom. In the mean time neglect not, I pray, to think of me and prepare your heart to accord me a gracious word.
May God, in his divine surpassing mercy, hold you harmless and incline your heart to favor
Your obedient servant and eternal lover,
EDWARD BUCKLEY.
By oft conning this epistle I have it learned by heart. It must be most engrossing affairs of state, methinks, that can hold one so fixedly to town. ’ T is true the deputy is called a stern taskmaster, but such business concerneth the day, and I mind me’t was by night Leander swam the Hellespont.
Mo. 9, 5. Came to town yesterday with brother John. Dined at Madam Nowell’s, went to cousin Saltonstall after; she holdeth me for a visit. John is to send in my portmanteau. Madam Hibbins heareth of my coming, and hasteneth this morning to wait upon me ; saith Mr. Buckley is gone on some affairs of state to Plymouth. She craveth a visit from me. I think it not seemly, in view of the late passages betwixt the young gentleman and me, to accept, but appease her insistence by promising to go to-morrow and sup.
Mo. 9, 6. Madam Hibbins waiteth not for my going, but eometh betimes to fetch me. Cousin Saltonstall excuseth herself. Madam saith her kinsman is not yet returned. I am content he should be gone, on the score of propriety ; but having cherished a sneaking hope he might be there, go not now with much zest to the supper. Arriving, I was greatly put out of countenance to find the worshipful deputy seated at his ease awaiting us. But my discomfiture was as nothing to that of madam, who stood staring for some moments, quite at a loss for words.
“ I expected not the honor of your company to-night, brother, " she saith at length, with some asperity.
Mr. Bellingham, mayhap accustomed to his sister’s humors, showed no surprise at this ungraciousness, but answered with his wonted dignity, “Nay, you had no cause. Buckley is not yet returned. I like not to eat alone, and so made bold to come unbidden.”
“ I would T had received some warning of it,” saith his sister, with brow still lowering.
“ I trust, at least, sister Hibbins, I am not unwelcome.”
“ I do not grudge you meat and drink, as you know, but it putteth me somewhat about,” quoth madam, with unchanged front.
“ It needeth not, when I bid you change in no respect the ordering of your household for me.”
“ When had you news of my company ? ” queried madam, whirling suddenly, and fixing the worshipful deputy with her keen, snapping eyes.
“ Nay,” replied the deputy, not at all abashed, “ I knew not you were to be honored with so fair a visitor, but I deem myself doubly fortunate in encountering Mistress Pelham.”
Madam Hibbins said no more, but withdrew presently about her household matters. She was gone but two or three minutes, when she returned so suddenly as to make me start in my seat. In this brief space her mood had wholly changed. Now she was all smiles and gayety, all graciousness to her brother, drawing him aside in conversation, to my great content. Thus I had leisure to regard him. His grand looks and majesty of bearing cause everything else to be forgotten where he cometh. He seemeth a man of few words, with a manner of saying these which causeth them to be remembered. Never any human being have I yet encountered who so filled the imagination that naught can be recollected after but his words and looks. When at length I rose to go for the night he offered to attend me, but though I would fain have gone with a servant I dared not deny him. On the road we came to a pool of foul water, too deep for my pattens : without a word he put forth his arm and lifted me over as I had been a child; and truly, in his strong grasp I felt like nothing more. Happily he spake not of his kinsman, albeit I had great qualms lest he should.
1641, Mo. 4, 2. To-day came off the election, and to the surprise of many Mr. Bellingham is made governor. I know not what ground there should be of surprise ; he seemeth a man most fitted for authority, and I marvel only he hath not before come to it. Brother saith he lacketh the arts to ingratiate the multitude, which is easy to understand ; and that, moreover, he maintaineth too lofty a bearing upon all occasions to please suitors. In the evening came Mr. Buckley, who was ushered quite unawares into the room where we all sat. His first visit since the letter. He seemed at a loss for speech, and stammered forth I know not what. I followed suit, reddening like a village wench ; happily ’t was the gloaming, and the candles not yet brought in. The poor young gentleman tried divers devices of getting speech privately with me. He called me forth to see a strange star, but all the family came trooping after. Howbeit, anon, when the children were gone to bed, there arose some disturbance among the cattle at the barn, and brothers William and John went forth to inquire the cause. Then had we a brief space together. Without further ado he cast himself on his knees, seized upon my hands, and though I implored him to rise, lest we be discovered, he was quite reckless of all consequences. He rehearsed what is set forth in the letter above with much more, very eloquently said. I listened with no comfort, however, but the greatest agitation, lest every moment brothers should return ; and this my perturbation he would seem to have construed into disdain of his suit, and thus continued his passionate imploring that I should not be so cruel. Truly, I had never any intention to say him nay, only he left me no occasion to show him my mind ; and thus it happed brothers’ footsteps were heard at the door before I had ever a chance to assure him what good cause he hath for hope.
Mo. 4, 6. There cometh to-day news that Mr. Buckley is ill, and cannot go forth. I felt some pangs of conscience, and straightway sat me down and writ a letter, giving assurance of my sympathy and remembrance.
Mo. 4, 8. More news from Mr. Buckley : he is thought worse, and there be fears he will not escape a fever. I am grievously anxious, and have writ several letters advising him of my great concern. I sent him the former time a nosegay of wall-flowers, and to-day some jelly of apricocks.
Mo. 4, 10. Madam Hibbins hath writ me a kind letter, giving tidings of her kinsman, who is thought to be mending. She is nurse, as it seems. She saith he would be talking of me constantly, and would have letters writ every half hour. I returned by the hand of the messenger some knots of English lavender and a comfiture of rose leaves sent me out of England by sister Catherine.
Mo. 4, 12. A strange occurrence. To-day, while brothers were both at Sudberry, I was surprised by a visit from the governor.
“ Brother is away,” I murmured faintly-
“ ’T is well,” he replied. “ I came not to see your brother; I came to see you, Mistress Pelham.”
I was greatly abashed, and as helpless in speech as ever. That the first magistrate of the colony, and such a personage as Mr. Bellingham withal, should leave affairs of state to visit in person a simple maiden was indeed enough to paralyze my faculties. For some space I was dumb, but anon bethought me happily to ask for his kinsman. He said his cousin had sent me a message, to wit: that he yearned to speak with me, and hoped soon to gain strength to come hither. I noted the governor regarded me keenly, as he would read my thoughts, whenever I spake of his kinsman. We discoursed of divers indifferent matters for a space, when on a sudden he turneth, and, transfixing me with those deep, piercing eyes, said, — “ Mr. Buckley seemeth greatly enamored of you, Mistress Pelham.”
’T is a marvel I did not redden and cast down my eyes and play the fool as heretofore, but to my much comfort I answered with dignity, —
“ Yes ; he hath told me so.”
Hereupon there was so long a pause I presently uplifted my eyes, and found the governor gazing at me as he would read my soul.
“ Love you him, then, in equal degree ? ” queried he, staring as before.
“ Nay, Mr. Buckley hath not yet examined me as to that point, and till he doth I must be pardoned for keeping my own counsel,” I replied, with a spirit which now I marvel at.
“ Answer me yet one question,” pursued the governor, unheeding my manner. “ How long hath my cousin sought your society ? ”
“ For the matter of a year, or thereabout.”
“ And in that time hath seen much of you, no doubt,” he said, as speaking to himself.
I answered not, and he presently rose. I courtesied, supposing him about to depart. But he suddenly took my hand, and said, looking the while into my eyes in a way I cannot describe, “ Penelope, my child, I pray you may be happy ; ” then, gazing long in silence, while he held my hand with a grasp that gave me pain, he finished in a thrilling tone : “ Make no mistake ; think well ere you conclude this matter. It toucheth your happiness for life.”
His visit hath left me in a tumult. I know not what to think of his mysterious warning, his strange demeanor, his burning eyes, his tender accents, and the dread grasp in which he held my hand.
Mo. 5, 6. Yesterday, at Madam Hibbins’ urgent bidding, I went to town, albeit with extreme reluctance, to wait upon her at the governor’s house, where Mr. Buckley is now well-nigh recovered, and demandeth to see me. ’T is a fine house, on a hillside; a noble aall of entrance, with a window at the bottom thereof, looking upon the garden rising in terraces behind, and filled with a goodly store of fruit and flowers. I arrived betimes. Madam came straightway to embrace me; said her cousin awaited me ; led me presently upstairs to a large chamber, where I found him dressed, sitting in a sick-chair, with a pitiable aspect, his countenance both pale and meagre. He smiled at my approach, and held out his hand, much pleased, as it seemed, at my coming. I presently brought forth a little offering of homemade cates, and he thanked me heartily. I was moved with pity at his appearance, and would fain have embraced him; but he made no offer thereto, though madam had discreetly withdrawn to the window, and made pretense of looking out.
After some interchange of queries, there seeming little purpose to the visit, I expressed again my good wishes, and withdrew. Truly, I hope my coming hath afforded him comfort, the rather that it hath given me a nameless pain. Going out, I encountered the worshipful governor in the doorway. He saluted me with great respect, and paused to speak. Hardly had we exchanged greetings, however, when Madam Hibbins came flying down the stairway, with a countenance of wrath, which most singularly changed to a smiling aspect as she came along the hall and in between us like a flash of light. She sweepeth me like a feather down upon the outer step, and under pretext of some parting message from her cousin poureth into my ear a hot torrent of incoherency, whereat I well-nigh gasped. Then presently she brake forth again into smiles, and bestowed some cheerful words of pleasantry upon her brother and me. The governor gave no sign of heeding her, but demanded of me gravely whether I had in mind to repair straightway to Cambridge. I replied I purposed lodging with cousin Saltonstall for the night, which I noted caused Madam Hibbins again to bite her lip.
Presently after supper came the governor to wait upon me at cousin Saltonstall’s. I was abashed, as before ; howbeit, much to my comfort, he had no occasion for private speech with me. On his departure, cousin failed not to bestow upon me many quizzical looks, saying, “ Doth the worshipful governor come often to visit you, cousin Penelope ? ’T is long, indeed, since he hath honored our poor house with a visit.”
“ I have seen him on occasion at brother William’s,” I replied.
“ Mayhap ’t is in honor of cousin William he cometh, then,” she said, meaning, as I well knew, to rally me.
“ Truly, I cannot divine,” I made answer, somewhat peevishly, whereupon she forbore.
Betimes in the morning came one of Mr. Bellingham’s serving-men with a fine basket of fruit and his duty to Mistress Pelham. I bestowed the fruit upon cousin Saltonstall to stop her mouth, and by summoning up a grave aspect checked her raillery. Directly thereafter set forth for home.
Mo. 5, 20. To-day brother went alone to lecture, and came bringing home to dinner Mr. Nowell and lady and the governor, whose coming hither so soon after my visit to town seemed of intent, and wrought a strange effect in me. An impulse of audacity seized and carried me away. At table I talked without stay. I laughed immoderately and without cause. Brother looked amazed, and little knew I was all the time on the point of blubbering. When dinner was over Mr. Bellingham found occasion to speak apart with me.
“ I bring news of my cousin,” quoth he.
“ I would fain hear, if they be good news,” I said.
“ He findeth himself of better cheer, and sendeth his duty to you.” There was a pause, which I knew not how to fill. Mr. Bellingham anon brake silence himself.
“ I suppose,” he said, regarding me with most intent look, “ as soon as he cometh to his feet it will be published.”
“ What will be published ? ”
“ That you are contracted to each other.”
“ Nay, but we are not contracted,” I made answer, with much pride.
“ I pray God, then, you never may be ! ” brake he forth in a sudden transport, the while his voice shook as I believed nothing could have made it. “ Penelope, Penelope, my darling, my sweet child, stay ! bethink you ! Carry it no further ! There is one loves you, adores you, craves you, with a passion yonder sick boy hath no capacity of ! ”
All this, like the outpouring of a volcano, with such a mighty torrent of emotion and such a wondrous change of countenance as I never beheld in any man. Anon, before I saw his intent, he snateheth me up like a straw or feather, claspeth me to his bosom, toucheth my lips with a kiss like scorching fire, and was away as the passing of a tempest.
I sat scarce alive. The vast throbs of my heart brake upon my ear with awful clamor. I was giddy. The floor uplifted beneath my feet. I rose anon and sought my chamber, reeling like one in liquor. My hands and feet, methought, were lumps of ice, my head was a coal of fire, and so have they ever since remained. I am, indeed, like one bereft of wits. I heed not what passeth, eat nothing, answer at random, and so neglect every reasonable pursuit that brother hath drawn me apart in great concern to inquire into my state, and would fain fetch the doctor but for my strenuous denial.
Mo. 5, 23. Three days are overpast, yet’t is all in vain I strive to bring any cool judgment to bear upon my state. In vain I try to pray. I know not for what I should pray, nor how I should feel, nor how, again, I should act. Methinks I have been hitherto living in a dream, and am but now awaked to a reality, which yet is too large and momentous, too full of mighty raptures and pains, for my weak being. Anon cometh a dread feeling of guilt, as of having entered upon some pathway of crime which leadeth, yet strangely, to a blissful state beyond, whither fate driveth me ever on. Alas, my conscience is confounded, and serveth me no longer at need. I dare not, though sore tempted, take counsel of my teacher in a matter concerning one of such rank, and so stand darkling and amazed.
Mo. 5, 25. A letter cometh from Mr. Buckley, He hath been thrice already to take the air. Hopeth soon to attempt the journey hither. Rehearseth his affection, bespeaketh my fidelity. Truly, I am cast into a most strange and woful perplexity. I would reason of this matter, but find no clear or safe ground. This letter cometh to me like a message out of the past, as it were, long left behind. Yet hath it aroused within a voice that crieth ever, “ Art thou not in honor contracted to him that writ it ? What though not in deed and word, yet in fair dealing and intendment ? ”
Mo. 5, 30. The governor cometh to Cambridge on some matter of the college, and is brought by brother hither to dine. I fly to my chamber, and come not down to table, quaking with terror lest I be summoned. Brother excuseth me on the score of my late illness. Mr. Bellingham seemed concerned, ’t is said, and made many inquiries.
Mo. 5, 31. To-day came Madam Hibbins, quite unlooked for, who hath embraced me I know not how many times, and smiled so continuously that I have never known her so gracious. .She discoursed most eloquently of Mr. Buckley and the desperate degree of his affection for me ; extolled his family, his character and person ; proffered me openly congratulations: and all in so voluble a tone that I could not once break in to set her right. When at last I had occasion and would declare the truth, she hastened, by smiles and winks and nods, to silence me, and would nothing but that it is an affair concluded betwixt her cousin and me. Suddenly she artfully brake off in the midst of some harangue, demanding if we had her brother to dine with us yesterday. Taken so unawares I reddened ere I could frame a reply, which was the proof she would put me to, and presently went on to discourse of her brother in no very flattering vein, to the effect that he hath of late waxed stern and morose, beyond all bearing ; is quite given over to worldly ambition ; thinketh only of himself, and is of no fit society for anybody ; that, moreover, he is much older than he seemeth, and, in fact, in his very dotage; that he is fickle and heartless, and meaneth nothing by his fair speeches ; that he hath already addressed himself to several dames of character and respectability in the town, raising in them fair hopes only to be crushed and defeated : all this with some show of commendation that naught may be set down to malice. This recounted she fiieth away, after more smiles and embraces, before I could so much as utter a protest. In truth, it needeth a nimble wit to follow madam, who hath ever the air of pursuing some hidden purpose, and whose words are designed as oft to cloak as to disclose her meaning.
Mo. 6, 5. Alas, it would seem I am foredoomed to live in the midst of tragedy. I know not what is left that can befall me. What followeth here must be as the recounting of a dream, albeit every smallest event is branded forever upon my memory. ’T was yesterday, though seeming ages ago. I had repaired to the arbor at the bottom of the garden, there to be alone. Anon, as I sat. there is a noise upon the gravel. I look up and behold Mr. Bellingham only a short distance from me. I would fain fly ; there is no way of escape. I sink back and wait, my heart in my month. He cometh presently and seateth himself at my side. I speak not, nor raise my eyes. Truly, I seem bereft of all power of locomotion.
“ Penelope ! ” saith he, after a pause. I answer not.
“ Penelope, my darling ! ”
I essay to speak. I fain would pronounce a word of entreaty, but in vain.
He pauseth a moment; anon he putteth forth his hand and gently uplifteth my head till he can look into my eyes. Then straightway I burst into violent weeping. He taketh my hands and would soothe me.
“ Nay, nay,” I cried, starting to my feet and stopping my ears, “ I may not hearken to you ! I am contracted to another.”
“ Said you not ” —
“ Ay, ay ! ” cried I, sobbing bitterly ; “albeit I spake not the words, yet am I contracted in honor. He believeth in me; ’t is sin to deceive him. Oh, go! go ! I may not hearken to you ! ”
“Ay, but you must, you shall, hearken to me ! ” cried be, clasping me in his arms with a terrible vehemency. “ Since you made no promise you are not contracted. Honor is not in question. You are mine. God hath sent you to me. Yonder silly boy will outgrow his fancy ; ’t is but a fever of his blood. You were foreordained for me. Since I beheld you I have thought of naught else. My peace is at stake. You shall not go from me. You are my happiness, my life, my all. Penelope, child, dearest, look up into my eyes, nay, closer, nearer, — now speak ! Say you are mine ! ” God he knoweth I had no power to say aught else, Be it sin or no, I know not. I looked into his eyes. I heard his voice, and straightway my heart was filled with a thrilling ecstasy, such as it hath never known the like before. All care for any earthly creature beside was lost or forgotten, and anon as I lay at rest upon his bosom a strange surpassing peace fell upon me. Yet in the very fullness of my joy was I doomed to pay its bitter price. A figure darkened the doorway of the arbor. All unawares I looked up, and cried aloud. ‘T was Buckley, come from town, all pale and wan, stood gazing down upon me with dumb reproach. I know not what came after. My wits gave way straightway : I swooned. When I revived Richard alone was there, chafing my hands and kissing my cold lips. Methought I awoke then to a new world, wherein he was sole sovereign and ruler. Surely he was, and ever henceforth will be, sovereign and ruler of my heart and life. Presently he raised me tenderly in his arms and bare me to the house. Before the door, upon horseback, sat Buckley, with Madam Hibbins on a pillion. I turned away my head. Madam, in a fury, springeth from the horse and barreth our way. Never beheld I a countenance so terrible with passion. Bitterly she upbraided us twain with unchose epithets of scorn, spake of dishonor and discredit Richard hath brought upon his high office, threatened to discover all to the elders and publish it to the church, and what else I know not. I cowered before the blast, but Richard sternly bade her hold her peace and begone, and when she heeded not swept her from the way, and placed me at shelter within. Before he went he bade me not to fear; that he would find a way to establish my peace. He hath kept his word. To-day came he again, bringing from Buckley this declaration of dismissal: —
MISTRESS PELHAM, — My worshipful kinsman hath been at the pains, in your behalf and his own, to bestow upon me some explanation of the strange spectacle I yesterday beheld in your garden. He saith, in brief, upon examination of your heart, you find it not inclined to me as you had made me believe, but wholly knit to him. What hath wrought this sudden and marvelous conversion he vouchsafed not to disclose, and ’t is indeed bootless to inquire. If it be true, as from the evidence of my own eyes I can make no doubt, then shall I not esteem so lightly my own self-respect, nor the fervency of my true passion, as to persist in any further claim upon you ; nor shall I needlessly waste your time nor squander my feeble energies in preferring vain reproaches. It remaineth, then, only that I subscribe myself, dear madam,
Your very obedient humble servant.
EDWARD BUCKLEY. Edwin Lassetter Bynner.
- “ The governor, Mr. Bellingham, was married. [I would not mention such ordinary matters but by reason of some remarkable accidents.] The young gentlewoman was ready to be contracted to a friend of his who lodged in his bouse, and by his consent bad proceeded so far with her, when, on the sudden, the governor treated with her and obtained her for himself. He excused it by the strength of his affection.” (Winthrop’s History of New England, vol. ii.)↩
- The young gentlewoman here mentioned was Penelope Pelham, sister of Herbert Pelham, who came to New England in 1638, and took an important part in colonial affairs until his return to England in 1647, being at one time treasurer of Harvard College, and at another one of the assistants. He became a member of Parliament after his return to England. Penelope was married to Governor Richard Bellingham in 1641, and survived him nearly thirty years, dying in Boston, in 1702.↩
- A slight anachronism. Herbert Pelham was not made treasurer until 1643.↩
- Ann Hibbins, afterwards, in 1656, hanged as a witch.↩