CHAPTER XXXVI.
Sir William Phips and Lady Mary.
When Mistress Dulcibel Burton, in company with Master Philip English andhis wife, arrived at Boston jail, and were delivered into the care ofKeeper Arnold, they received far better treatment than they hadexpected.
The prison itself, situated in a portion of Boston which is nowconsidered the centre of fashion and elegance, was one of those cruelBridewells, which were a befitting illustration of what some suppose tohave been the superior manners and customs of the "good old times." Itwas built of stone, its walls being three feet thick. Its windows werebarred with iron to prevent escape; but being without glazed sashes, thewind and rain and snow and cold of winter found ready access to thecells within. The doors were covered with the large heads of ironspikes--the cells being formed by partitions of heavy plank. And thepassage ways of the prison were described by one who had been confinedin this Boston Bridewell, as being "like the dark valley of the shadowof death."
But the jailers seem to have been more humane than the builders of theprison; and those awaiting trial, especially, were frequently allowedrooms in the Keeper's house--probably always paying well, however, forthe privilege.
Thus, as Captain Tolley had said, Captain Alden was confined in KeeperArnold's house; and, when the party in which the readers of this storyare especially interested, arrived late at night from Salem, they weretaken to comparatively comfortable apartments. The jailer knew thatMaster Philip English was a very wealthy man; and, as for Dulcibel,Uncle Robie did not forget to say to his old crony Arnold, among otherfavorable things, that she not only had warm friends, among the bestpeople of Salem, but that in her own right, she possessed a very prettylittle fortune, and was fully able to pay a good price for any favorsextended to her.
The magistrates in Salem had refused to take bail for Captain Alden; butMaster English was soon able to make an arrangement, by which he and hiswife were allowed the freedom of the town in the daytime; it beingunderstood that they should return regularly, and pass the night in thejail--or, speaking strictly, in the Keeper's house.
For things in Boston were different from what they were at Salem. InSalem the Puritan spirit reigned supreme in magistrates and inministers. But in Boston, there was, as we have said, a stronganti-Puritan influence. The officials sent over from England weregenerally Episcopalians--the officers of the English men-of-warfrequently in port, also were generally Episcopalians. And though thepresent Governor, Sir William Phips, was a member of the North Church,the Reverend Cotton Mather taking the place of his father, the ReverendIncrease Mather--and though the Governor was greatly under the influenceof that dogmatic and superstitious divine--his wife, Lady Mary, wasutterly opposed to the whole witchcraft delusion and persecution.
Sir William himself had quite a romantic career. Starting in life as oneof the later offspring of a father and mother who had twenty-sixchildren, and had come as poor emigrants to Maine, he was a simple andignorant caretaker of sheep until eighteen years of age. Then he becamea ship carpenter; and at the age of twenty-two went to Boston, workingat his trade in the day time, and learning how to read and write atnight. In Boston he had the good fortune to capture the heart of a fairwidow by the name of Mistress Hull, who was a daughter of CaptainRobert Spencer. With her hand he received a fair estate; which was thebeginning of a large fortune. For, it enabled him to set up a ship-yardof his own; and by ventures to recover lost treasure, sunk inshipwrecked Spanish galleons, under the patronage of the Duke ofAlbemarle, he took back to England at one time the large amount ofL300,000 in gold, silver and precious stones, of which his share wasL16,000--and in addition a gold cup, valued at L1,000 presented to hiswife Mary. And such was the able conduct and the strict integrity he hadshown in the face of many difficulties and temptations, that King Jamesknighted him, making him Sir William.
Now, through his own deserts, and the influence of the Reverend IncreaseMather, agent in England of the colony, he was Governor-in-Chief of theProvince of Massachusetts Bay, and Captain General (for militarypurposes) of all New England. And he was living in that "fair brickhouse in Green lane," which, years before, he had promised his wife thathe would some day build for her to live in.
Lady Mary was a very sweet, nice woman; but she had a will of her own,and never could be persuaded that Sir William's rise in the world wasnot owing entirely to her having taken pity on him, and married belowher station. And really there was considerable truth in this view of thematter, which she was not inclined to have him forget; and Sir William,being a manly and generous, though at times rather choleric gentleman,generally admitted the truth of her assertion that "she had made him,"rather than have any controversy with her about it. One of the firstacts of Sir William on arriving to fill his position as Governor, was toorder chains put upon all the alleged witches in the prisons. In thisorder might be very plainly traced the hand of his pastor, the ReverendCotton Mather. Lady Mary was outraged by such a command. One of herfirst visits had been to the jail, to see Captain Alden, whom she knewwell. Keeper Arnold had shown her the order. "Put on the irons," saidLady Mary. The jailer did so. "Now that you have obeyed Sir William,take them off again." The jailer smiled, but hesitated. "Do as I commandyou, and I will be accountable to Sir William." Very gladly did KeeperArnold obey--he had no faith in such accusations, brought against someof the best behaved people he ever had in his charge.
"Now, do the same to all the other prisoners!" commanded the spiritedlady.
"I may as well be hung for a cow as a calf," said the jailerlaughing--and he went gravely with one pair of fetters all through thecells, complying literally with the new Governor's orders.
Of course this soon got to the ears of the Rev. Cotton Mather, who wentin high indignation to the Governor. But the latter seemed to be verymuch amused, and could not be brought to manifest any great amount ofindignation. "You know that Lady Mary has a will of her own," said he tohis pastor. "If you choose to go and talk to her, I will take you to herboudoir; but I am not anxious to get into hot water for the sake of afew witches." The minister thought of it a moment; but then concludedwisely not to go. For, as Lady Mary said to her husband afterwards, "Iwish that you had brought him to me. I would have told him just what Ithink of him, and his superstitious, hard-hearted doings. For me, Inever mean to enter North Church more. I shall go hereafter to SouthChurch; Masters Willard and Moody have some Christian charity left inthem."
"I think you are too hard on Master Cotton Mather, my dear," repliedSir William mildly.
"Too hard, am I? What would you say if those girl imps at Salem shouldaccuse me next! Your own loving wife,--to the world."
"Oh, my dear wife, that is too monstrous even to think of!"
"No more monstrous than their accusation of Mistress English of Salem,and her husband. You know them--what do you think of that?"
"Certainly, that is very singular and impossible; but Master Mathersays--"
"Master Mather ought to be hung himself," said the indignant lady; "forhe has helped to murder better people than he is, a great deal."
"My dear, I must remonstrate--"
"And there is Captain Alden--he is a witch, too, it seems!" And LadyMary laughed scornfully. "Why not you too? You are no better a man thanCaptain Alden."
"Oh, the Captain shall not be hurt."
"It will not be through any mercy of his judges then. But, answer myquestion: what will you do, if they dare to accuse me? Answer me that!"
"You certainly are not serious, Lady Mary?"
"I am perfectly serious. I have heard already a whisper from Salem thatthey are thinking of it. They even have wished me warned against theconsequences of my high-handed proceedings. Now if they cry out againstme, what will you do?"
We have said that Sir William was naturally choleric--though he alwaysput a strong constraint upon himself when talking with his wife, whom hereally loved; but now he started to his feet.
"If they dare to breathe a whisper against you, my wife, L
ady Mary, Iwill blow the whole concern to perdition! Confound it, Madam, there arelimits to everything!"
She went up to him and put her arm around his neck and kissed him. "Ithought that before they touched me, they would have to chain the lionthat lies at my door," she said proudly and affectionately; for,notwithstanding these little tiffs, she really was fond of her husband,and proud of his romantic career.
But--coming back to our sheep--Dulcibel not having the same amount ofwealth and influence behind her as Master English had, was very wellcontented at being allowed a room in Keeper Arnold's house; and was onthe whole getting along very comfortably. Master Raymond had seen hersoon after his arrival, but it was in company with the jailer; theprincipal result being that he had secretly passed her a letter, and hadassured himself that she was not in a suffering condition.
But things of late were looking brighter, for Master Raymond had madethe acquaintance of Lady Mary through a friend to whom he had lettersfrom England, and Lady Mary had begun to take an interest in Dulcibel,whom she had seen on one of her visits to Mistress English.
Through Lady Mary, in some way, Dulcibel hoped to escape from theprison; trusting that, if once at large, Master Raymond would be able toprovide for her safety. But there was one great difficulty. She, withthe others, had given her word to the Keeper not to escape, as the priceof her present exemption from confinement in an exposed, unhealthy cell.How this promise was to be managed, neither of them had been able tothink of. Keeper Arnold might be approached; but Dulcibel feared not--atleast under present circumstances. If brought to trial and convictedthen to save her life, Dulcibel thought he might be persuaded to aidher. As to breaking her word to the Keeper, that never entered the mindof the truthful maiden, or of her lover. Death even was more endurablethan the thought of dishonor--if they had thought of the matter at all.But as I have said, they never even thought of a such thing. Andtherefore how to manage the affair was a very perplexing question.