CHAPTER X
Treaties
The girls of the plantation were gathered together in Stephen Hopkins'shouse. The logs on the hearth were ash-strewn to check their burning yetto hold them ready to burn when the hour for preparing supper was comeand the ashes raked away.
Dame Eliza Hopkins had betaken herself to William Bradford's house, thebaby, Oceanus, seated astride her hip in her favourite manner ofcarrying him; she protested that she could not endure the gabble of thegirls, but in truth she greatly desired to discuss with MistressBradford, of whom she stood somewhat in awe, the events portending. Shewas secretly elated with her husband's coming honour, and wanted toconvey to Mistress Bradford that, as between their two spouses, StephenHopkins was the better man.
Constance, sitting beside the smothered hearth fire, might beconsidered, since it was at her father's hearthstone the girls weregathered, as the hostess of the occasion, but the gathering was forwork, not formalities, and, in any case, Constance was too preoccupiedwith her task to pay attention to aught else.
Only the older girls were bidden, but little Damaris was there by rightof tenancy. She sat at Constance's feet, worshipping her, as she turnedand twisted their father's coat, skilfully furbishing it with newbuttons and new binding.
"May Mr. Hopkins wear velvet, Constance?" asked Humility Cooper,suddenly; she too had been watching Constance work. "Did not ElderBrewster exhort us to utmost plainness of clothing, as becomes thesaints, who set more store upon heavenly raiment than earthlysplendour?"
Constance looked up laughingly, pushing out of her eyes her waving lockswhich had strayed from her cap; she used the back of the hand that heldher needle, pulled at great length through a button which she wasfastening upon her father's worn velvet coat.
"Oh, Humility, splendour?" she laughed. "When I am trying hard to makethis old coat passing decent? Isn't it necessary for us all to wear whatwe have, willy-nilly, since nothing else is obtainable, garments not yetgrowing on New World bushes? I do believe that some of the brethrendiscussed Stephen Hopkins's velvet coat, and decided for it, since itstood for economy. It stood for more; till a ship brings supplies fromhome, it's this, or no coat for my father. But since he has beenselected, with Mr. Edward Winslow, to make the treaty with Massasoit, heshould be clad suitably to his office, were there choice between velvetand homespun."
"What does he make to treat Mass o' suet, Constance? What is Mass o'suet; pudding, Constance?" asked Damaris, anxiously, knitting her brow.
Constance's laugh rang out, good to hear. She leaned forward impetuouslyand snatched off her little sister's decorous cap, rumpled her sleekfair hair with both hands pressing her head, and kissed her. PriscillaMullins laughed with Constance, looking sympathetically at her, but someof the other girls looked a trifle shocked at this demonstration.
"Massasoit is a great Indian chief, small lass; he is coming in a day orso, and Father and Mr. Winslow will make a treaty with him; that meansthat Massasoit will promise to be our friend and to protect us fromother Indian tribes, he and his Indians, while we shall promise to betrue friends to him. It is a great good to our colony, and we are proud,you and I--and I think your mother, too"--Constance glanced withamusement at Priscilla--"that our father is chosen for the colony'srepresentative."
"Do you suppose that the Indians know whether cloth or velvet isgrander? Those we see like leather and paint and feathers," saidPriscilla. "I hold that our men should overawe the savages, but----"
"And I hold that brides should be bonny, let it be here, or in England,"Constance interrupted her. "What will you wear on the day of days,Priscilla, you darling?"
"Well, I have consulted with Mistress Brewster," admitted Priscilla,regretfully. "I did think, being a woman, she would know better how ayoung maid feeleth as to her bridal gown than her godly husband. But shesaith that it is least of all becoming on such a solemn occasion to letmy mind consider my outward seeming. So I have that excellent woolskirt that Mistress White dyed for me a good brown, and that with myblue body----"
"Blue fiddlesticks, Priscilla Mullins!" Constance again interrupted her,impatiently. "You'll wear nothing of the kind. I tell you it shall bewhite for you on your wedding day, with your comely face and your honesteyes shining over it! I have a sweet embroidered muslin, and I canfashion it for you with a little cleverness and a deep frill combined,for that you are taller than I, and more plump to take up its length,there's no denying, Prissy dear! We'll not stand by and see ourplantation's one real romance end in dyed brown cloth and dreariness,will we, girls?"
"No!" cried Humility Cooper who would have followed Constance's leadinto worse danger than a pretty wedding gown for Priscilla.
But Elizabeth Tilley, her cousin, looked doubtful. "It sounds nice," sheadmitted, "but I never can tell what is wrong and what is right,because, though we read our Bibles to learn our duty, the Bible does notcondemn pleasure, and our teachers do. So it might be safer to wear dullgarments when we are married, Constance, and not be light-minded."
"You mean light-bodied; light-coloured bodies, Betsy!" Constance laughedat her, with a glint of mischievous appreciation of Elizabeth'sunconscious humour that was like her father. "No, indeed, my sisterpilgrim. A snowy gown for Pris, though I fashion it, who am not tooskilful. Oh, Francis Billington, how you scared me!" she cried, jumpingto her feet and upsetting Damaris who leaned upon her, as FrancisBillington burst into the room, out of breath, but full of importance.
"Nothing to fear with me about, girls," he assured the roomful. "Butgreat news! Massasoit has come, marched in upon us before we expectedhim, and the treaty is to be made to-morrow. Squanto is as proud anddelighted as----"
Squanto himself appeared in the doorway at that moment, a smile mantlinghis high cheek bones and a gleam in his eyes that betrayed theimportance that his pride tried to conceal.
"Chief come, English girls," he announced. "No more you be fear Indian;Massasoit tell you be no more fear, he and Squanto fight for you, and hesay true. No more fear, little English girl!" he laid his handprotectingly upon Damaris's head and the child smiled up at him,confidingly.
Giles came fast upon Squanto's heels. His face was flushed, his eyeskindled; Constance saw with a leap of her heart that he looked like thelad she had loved in England and had lost in the New World.
"Got Father's coat ready, Con?" he asked. "There's to be a counsel held,and my father is to preside over it on our side, arranging withMassasoit. My father is to settle with him for the colony--of courseMr. Winslow will have his say, also."
"I meant to furbish the coat somewhat more, Giles, but the necessaryrepairs are made," said Constance yielding her brother the garment. "Howproud of Father he is!" she thought, happily. "How truly he adores him,however awry matters go between them!"
Giles hung the coat on his arm, carefully, to keep it from wrinkles, amost unusual thoughtfulness in him, and hastened away.
"No more work to-day, girls, or at least of this sort," cried Constancegaily, her heart lightened by Giles's unmistakable pride in theirfather. "We shall be called upon to cook and serve. Many Indians comewith Massasoit, Squanto?"
"No, his chiefs," Squanto raised one hand and touched its fingersseparately, then did the same with the other hand. "Ten," he announcedafter this illustration.
"That means no less than thirty potatoes, and something less than twentyquarts of porridge," laughed Constance, but was called to account by herstepmother, who had come in from the rear.
"Will you never speak the truth soberly, Constantia Hopkins?" she said."We do not count on two quarts of porridge for every Indian we feed.Take this child; he is heavy for so long, and he hath kicked with bothheels in my flesh every step of the way. Another Hopkins, I'll warrant,I've borne for my folly in marrying your father; a restless, headstrongbrood are they, and Oceanus is already not content to sit quietly on hismother's hip, but will drive her, like a camel of the desert." Shedetached Oceanus's feet from her skirt and handed him over to Constancewith a jerk. Constance rece
ived him, biting her lips to hold backlaughter, and burying her face in the back of the baby neck that hadbeen pitifully thin during the cruel winter, but which was beginning towrinkle with plumpness now.
Too late she concealed her face; Mistress Eliza caught a glimpse of itand was upon her.
"It's not a matter for laughter that I should be pummelled by yourbrother, however young he may be," she cried; Dame Eliza had a way ofunderscoring her children's kinship to Constance whenever they weretroublesome. "Though, indeed, I carry on my back the weight of yourfather's children, and my heart is worse bruised by the ingratitude ofyou and your brother Giles, than is my flesh with this child's heels.And Mistress Bradford is proud-hearted, and that I will maintain,Puritan or no Puritan, or whether she be one of the elect of thischosen company, or a sinner. For plain could I see this afternoon thatshe held her husband to be a better man, and higher in the colony, thanmy husband, nor would she give way one jot when I put it beforeher--though not so that she would see what I would be after--thatStephen Hopkins it was who was chosen with Mr. Winslow to make thetreaty, and not William Bradford. Well, far be it from me to take pridein worldly things; I thank the good training that my mother gave me thatI am humble-minded. Often and often would she say to me: Eliza, neverplume yourself that you, and your people before you, are, as they are,better, more righteous people than are most other folks. For it is ourpart to bear ourselves humbly, not setting ourselves up for our virtue,but content to know that we have it and to see how others are lacking init, making no traffic with sinners, but yet not boasting. And as to you,young women, it would be better if you betook yourselves to your properhomes, not lingering here to encourage Constantia Hopkins to idlenesswhen I've my hands full, and more than full, to make ready for theIndian chiefs' supper, and I need her help."
On this strong hint the Plymouth girls bade Constance good-bye anddeparted, leaving her to a bustle of hard work, accompanied by herstepmother's scolding; Dame Eliza had come back dissatisfied from hervisit, and Constance paid the penalty.
The next morning the men of Plymouth gathered at the house of ElderBrewster, attired in all the decorum of their Sunday garb, their facesgravely expressive of the importance of the event about to take place.
Captain Myles Standish, indeed, felt some misgivings of the pervadinggravity of clothing of the civilized participants in this treaty, thatit might not sufficiently impress their savage allies. He had fastened abright plume that had been poor Rose's, on the side of his hat, and aband of English red ribbon across his breast, while he carried armsburnished to their brightest, his sword unsheathed, that the sun mightcatch its gleam.
Elder Brewster shook his head slightly at the sight of this display, butlet it pass, partly because Captain Standish ill-liked interference inhis affairs, partly because he understood its reason, and half believedthat the doughty Myles was right.
Not less solemn than the white men, but as gay with colours as thePuritans were sombre, the Indians, headed by Massasoit, marched to therendezvous from the house which had been allotted to them for lodging.
With perfect dignity Massasoit took his place at the head of the councilroom, and saluted Captain Standish and Elder Brewster, who advancedtoward him, then retreated and gave place to Stephen Hopkins and EdwardWinslow, who were to execute the treaty.
Its terms had already been discussed, but the Indians listenedattentively to Squanto's interpretation of Mr. Hopkins's reading ofthem. They promised, on the part of Massasoit, perfect safety to thesettlers from danger of the Indians' harming them, and, on the part ofthe pilgrims, aid to Massasoit against his enemies; on the part of bothsavage and white men, that justice should be done upon any one whowronged his neighbour, savage or civilized.
The gifts that bound both parties to this treaty were exchanged, and thetreaty, that was so important to the struggling colony, was consummated.
The women and children, even the youths, were excluded from the council;the women had enough to do to prepare the feast that was to celebratethe compact before Massasoit took up his march of forty miles to returnto his village.
But Giles leaned against the casement of the open door, unforbidden,glowing with pride in his father, for the first time in heart and soul acolonist, completely in sympathy with the event he was witnessing.
Stephen Hopkins saw him there and made no sign of dismissal. Their eyesmet with their old look of love; father and son were in that hourunited, though separated. Suddenly there arose a tremendous racket, avolley of shots, a beating of pans, shouts, pandemonium.
Captain Myles Standish turned angrily and saw John and FrancisBillington, decorated with streamers of party-coloured rags, which madethem look as if they had escaped from a madhouse, leaping and shouting,beating and shooting; John firing his clumsy "Bouncing Bully" in the airas fast as he could load it; Francis filling in the rest of theoutrageous performance.
But worst of all was that Stephen Hopkins, who saw what Captain Mylessaw, saw also his own boy, whom but a moment before he had looked atlovingly, bent and swayed by laughter.
Captain Standish strode out in a towering fury to deal with theBillingtons, with whom he was ceaselessly dealing in anger, as they wereceaselessly afflicting the little community with the pranks that shockedand outraged its decorum.
Stephen Hopkins dashed out after him. Quick to anger, sure of his ownjudgments, he instantly leaped to the conclusion that Giles had beenwaiting at the door to enjoy this prank when it was enacted, and it wasa prank that passed ordinary mischief. If the Indians recognized it fora prank, they would undoubtedly take it as an insult to them. Only thechance that they might consider it a serious celebration of the treaty,afforded hope that it might not annul the treaty at its birth, and putPlymouth in a worse plight than before it was made.
Mr. Hopkins seized Giles by the shoulders and shook him.
"You laugh? You laugh at this, you young wastrel?" he said, fiercely."By heavens, I could deal with you for conniving at this, which may earnsalt tears from us all, if the savages take it amiss and retaliate onus. Will you never learn sense? How, in heaven's name, can you help onwith this, knowing what you know of the danger to your own sistersshould the savages take offence at it? Angels above us, and but a momentagone I thought you were my son, and rejoicing in this important day!"
Giles, white, with burning eyes, looked straight into his father's eyes,rage, wounded pride, the sudden revolt of a love that had just beenenkindled anew in him, distorting his face.
"You never consider justice, sir," he said, chokingly. "You never ask,nor want to hear facts, lest they might be in my favour. You welcome achance to believe ill of me. It is Giles, therefore the worst must betrue; that's your argument."
He turned away, head up, no relenting in his air, but the boy's heart inhim was longing to burst in bitter weeping.
Stephen Hopkins stood still, a swift doubt of his accusation, ofhimself, keen sorrow if he had wronged his boy, seizing him.
"Giles, stop. Giles, come back," he said.
But Giles walked away the faster, and his father was forced to return toMassasoit, to discover whether he had taken amiss what had happened,and, if he had, to placate him, could it be done.
To his inexpressible relief he found that their savage guests had notsuspected that the boys' mischief had been other than a tribute tothemselves, quite in the key of their own celebrations of joyousoccasions.
After the dinner in which all the women of the settlement showed theirskill, the Indians departed as they had come, leaving Squanto to be theinvaluable friend of their white allies.
Giles kept out of his father's way; Stephen Hopkins was not able to findhim to clear up what he began to hope had been an unfounded suspicion onhis part. "Zounds!" said the kind, though irascible man. "Giles isalmost grown. If I did wrong him, I am sorry and will say so. An apologywill not harm me, and is his due--that is in case it _is_ due! I'll setthe lad an example and ask his pardon if I misjudged him. He did notdeny it, to be sure, but then Giles is t
oo proud to deny an unjustaccusation. And he looked innocent. Well, a good lad is Giles, in spiteof his faults. I'll find him and get to the bottom of it."
"Giles is all right, Stephen," said Myles Standish, to whom he wasspeaking. "Affairs that go wrong between you are usually partly your ownfault. He needs guiding, but you lose your own head, and then how canyou guide him? But those Billington boys, they are another matter! ByGog and Magog, there's got to be authority put into my hands to dealwith them summarily! And their father's a madman, no less. I told themto-day they'd cool their heels in Plymouth jail; we'd build Plymouthjail expressly for that purpose. And I mean it. I'm the last man to behard on mischief; heaven knows I was a harum-scarum in my time. Butmischief that is overflowing spirits, and mischief that is harmful aretwo different matters. I've had all I'll stand of Jack Billington, hisBouncing Bully and himself!"
"Here comes Connie. I wonder if she knows anything of her brother? Ifshe does, she'll speak of it; if she doesn't, don't disturb her peace ofmind, Myles. My pretty girl! She hurts me by her prettiness, here in thewilderness, far from her right to a sweet girl's dower of pleasure,admiration, dancing, and----"
"Stephen, Stephen, for the love of all our discarded saints, forbear!"protested Captain Myles, interrupting his friend, laughing. "If ourfriends about here heard you lamenting such a list of lost joys forConstance, by my sword, they'd deal with you no gentler than I purposedealing with the Billingtons! Ah, sweet Con, and no need to ask how theday of the treaty hath left you! You look abloom with youth andgladness, dear lass."
"I am happy," said Constance, slipping her hand into her father's andsmiling up into the faces of both the men, who loved her. "Wasn't it agreat day, Father? Isn't it blessed to feel secure from invasion, and,more than that, secure of an ally, in case of unknown enemies coming?Oh, Father, Giles was so proud of you! It was funny, but beautiful, tosee how his eyes shone, and how straight he carried himself, because hisfather was the man who made the treaty for us all! I love you, dearest,quite enough, and I am proud of you to bursting point, but Giles isalmost a man, and he is proud of you as men are proud; meseems it is adeeper feeling than in us women, who are content to love, and care lessfor ambition."
Stephen Hopkins winced; he saw that Constance did not know that anythingwas again amiss between the two who were dearest to her on earth, but hesaid:
"'Us women,' indeed, Constantia! Do you reckon yourself a woman, who artstill but my child-daughter?"
"Not a child, Father," said the girl, truly enough, shaking her headhard. "No pilgrim maid can be a child at my age, having seen and sharedwhat hath fallen to my lot. And to-morrow there is to be another treatymade of peace and alliance, which is much on my mind, because I am awoman and because I love Priscilla. To-morrow is Pris married, Father."
"Of a truth, and so she is!" cried Stephen Hopkins, slapping his legvigorously.
"Well, my girl, and what is it? Do you want to deck her out, as will notbe allowed? Or what is on your mind?"
"Oh, I have made her a white gown, Father," said Constance. "Whateverthey say, sweet Pris shall not go in dark clothing to her marriage! But,Father, Mr. Winslow is to marry her, as a magistrate, which he is. Isthere no way to make it a little like a holy wedding, with church, andprayers, and religion?"
"My dear, they have decided here that marriage is but a matter belongingto the state. You must check your scruples, child, and go along witharrangements as they are. There is much of your earliest training, ofyour sainted mother's training, in you yet, my Constance, and, pleaseGod, you will remain her daughter always. But you cannot alter the waysof Plymouth colony. So be content, sweet Con, to pray for our Pris allyou will, and rest assured they receive blessings who seek them, howeverthey be situate," said Stephen Hopkins, gently touching his girl'swhite-capped head.
"Ah, well," sighed Constance, turning away in acquiescence.
Captain Myles Standish and her father watched Constance away. Then theyturned in the other direction with a sigh.
"Hard to face westward all the time, my friend; even Con feels the tugof old ways, and the old home, on her heartstrings," said Captain Myles.