The Puritan and his daughter

Front matter

THE PURITAN AND HIS DAUGHTER.

THE PUEITAN

AND

CHAPTER I. Page

Some Account of a Very Ancient and Obscure Family — An Accident which Gives Coloring to a Whole Life — A Conventicle — A Crop -Eared Preacher — A Surprise and a Capture — Danger of Being in Bad Company. i

CHAPTER n.

Israel Baneswright, the Crop-Eared Preacher and his Family — Zeal and Bigotry often mistaken for each other — How Great Changes are often brought about in the Opinions of Men — Grand Perspective View of Justice Shorthose — Misfortunes never come single, as Harold Experiences — Trial and Sentence of the Crop-Ear — A Disagreeable Intrusion, and a Prophecy fulfilled — A Separation, and Harold's Feelings thereupon. . 25

Chapter III

A Short Foray into the Domain of History — Harold in great Jeopardy — Interposition of Providence in the Disguise of Old Gilbert Taverner — Justice Shorthose and his OtTicials Abscond — A Secret concerning Susan Baneswright — Harold in great Perplexity, from which He is at length Relieved by the Interposition of Dan Cupid — He becomes not only a Roundhead, but a Republican, and Abjures Passive Obedience and Non-Resistance for ever S2

Tl CONTENTS

CHAPTER IV. Pags

Harold joins the Parliamentary Forces — the Fortunes of War — He Makes Acquaintance with a Man of whom there is but One Opinion, and of Another of whom there are Many — Scene on the Field of Battle, and Exit of Israel Baneswright — Change from the Field of Blood to the Fields of Rural Life — Coelebs in Search of a Wife — Finds by Chance what He Missed in Seeking 72

Chapter V

Metaphysical Subtilties — Anticipation and Reality — Obstinacy and Principle — Some Morsels of Wisdom Crammed down the Header's Throat in Spite of His Wry Faces — A Prophecy — An Orthodox Serving Man — Disgust of Harold at the Profligacy ot the Cavaliers— Meditates a Decisive Movement, and Does a very Foolish Thing — A Complaisant Helpmate — Eulogium on the New World — A Voyage in Search of the Philosopher's Stone, to wit. Happiness 101

Chapter VI

The New World — Harold under the Necessity of Changing hia Original Destination — Purchases a Plantation — Some Account of his Nearest Neighbor, Master Hugh Tyringham and His Right-hand Man, Gregory Moth, the Oxford Scholar — A Small Dose of Wisdom from our Old Friend, and an Apology to the Reader — A Young Crop-Ear Lady and a Young Gentleman Cavalier Introduced — The Cavalier and the Roundhead don't

' Agree any Better than the Young People — Consequences of Forbidding Young Folks to Do What they Have no Mind to. . 130

Chapter VII

Rights of Authors — Wisdom of Gregory Moth — The Author Reminded of One of his Heroines — Something that May peradventure Give Offence to Nine-tenths of Our Readers — Little Miriam Habingdon Hunts up an Excitement — An Accidental Meeting— A Parting — Langley Tyringham Calls Names. . . 181

CONTENTS. Vll

CHAPTER VIII. Paoi

Eulogium on the Divine Tobacco Pipe — A Discussion and a Catastrophe— The Cavalier Grows Peremptory — A Soliloquy — The Cavalier for once Agrees in Opinion with the Roundhead — Miriam Talks like a Simpleton, and Thinks not a whit more Wisely— Falls Asleep in a Profound Doubt .... 188

Chapter IX

A. Great Event Signalized by a Great Feast — Transformation of a Boar's Head — A Red Herring on Horseback — Tristrified Flesh — Apology for Making Merry in this Miserable World 204

Dedication

TO THE MOST niGH AND MIGHTY SOVEREIGN OF SOVEREIGNS, KINO PEOPLE.

May it please Your Majesty —

It was the custom, previous to the commencement of Your Majesty's auspicious reign, for every judicious author to dedicate his work to some munificent potentate, who, by virtue of the Divine Right of granting pensions, held, as it were, the purse-strings of inspiration ; or to some neighboring prince, or noble, whose rank in the State, or whose reputation for taste, might serve, if not as a guarantee to the merits of the work, at least, in some measure, to overawe the vinegarized critics from falling foul of it with tomahawk and scalping-knife.

Chapter I

Some Acconnt of a Very Ancient and Obscure Family — An Accident which Gives Coloring to a Whole Life — A Conventicle — A Crop- Eared Preacher — A Surprise and a Capture — Danger of Being in Bad Company.

In the reign of King Charles — courteously styled the Martyr — there resided in an obscure corner of the renowned kingdom of England, a certain obscure country gentleman, claiming descent from a family that flourished in great splendor under a Saxon monarch whose name is forgotten. This ancient family, like most others of great pretensions to antiquity, had gone by as many names as certain persons who live in the fear of the law, but finally settled down on that of Habingdon, or Habingden, by which they were now known. They were somewhat poor, but very proud, and looked down with contempt on the posterity of the upstart Normans who usurped the domains of their ancestors. They had resided on the same spot for more than eight hundred years, during which time,

not one of them had ever performed an act worthy of

2^ being transmitted to posterity, with the single exception of one Thurkill Habingdonne who flourished in the reign of King John— of unblessed memory — and who is recorded to have given one-third of a caracut of land, and a wind-mill, to the priory of Monks Kirby, " to the end," as he expresses it, " that his obit should be perpetually there .observed, and his name written in the Martyrologe."

But, as hath been discreetly observed, the most miserable of mankind, as well as the most insignificant, would feel still more miserable and insignificant, had he not in a secret corner of his heart, something to feed his vanity or pride. The very beggar will prate of better days, deriving a strange satisfaction from contrasting his former prosperity with his present debasement, and those who have nothing to boast of in the present, or little to anticipate in the future, revert to the past for consolation. Most especially is this the case with those who derive their sole claim to respect from antiquity of descent, and modestly appropriate to themselves all the exploits, good, bad, and indifferent, of their forefathers, although, if the truth were fairly told, there is scarcely one of these residuary legatees of renown, that looks back into the family history, who would not find it stained with actions which, did he really feel himself identified with his ancestors, would light up his face with the blush of shame. But the Habingdons have never figured in the tempest of war, or the dead calm of peace, and if they could not boast of illustrious actions, were free from the infamy of illustrious crimes.

From the manuscript family chronicle, which commenced with the first of their ancestors who learned to write, and in which were carefully recorded the marriages, births, deaths, and other remarkable events, it appeared that during this long period of eight hundred years, the estate had passed in direct descent from father to son ; and that the respective proprietors had, without exception, been once, at least, in their lives, foremen of the Grand Jury. It is also especially noted that in the reign of Henry the First one of the Habingdons repaired a window of the parish church at his own expense ; and that another at his death bequeathed a mark to aid in the support of a charity school. The most illustrious of them all, however, was one who was a justice of the peace, and a churchwarden, and who on divers occasions acted as deputy to the high sheriff of the county, as will distinctly appear, from the history of the ancient borough of Slimbridge, now extinct, in five quarto volumes. No wonder the Habingdons were proud of their descent, and eschewed upstart wealth and mushroom titles. .^

Though the original patrimony of the family had, according to the manuscript record, comprised land enough for William the Conqueror to enrich two or three of his beggarly barons, and maintain a stupendous herd of swine, it now consisted of little more than three hundred acres, which the generous Norman had suffered the ancient proprietor to retain as a reward for not grumbling at being despoiled of the rest. It was the peculiar hereditary boast of the family, that they had thus, for so long a period of time, invariably held up their heads and maintained their position among the gentry of the county. "Whether from some providential dispensation, or that the breed was nearly worn out, is difficult to decide ; but it is a remarkable fact sustained by the manuscript record, that not one of the proprietors of the estate, after so great a portion was appropriated by right of conquest, ever had more than two sons. The eldest, in order to keep up the family dignity, was always the sole heir, though by some peculiarity of tenure, the property was not entailed, and of course a gentleman, while the younger, if there chanced to be one, was invariably an idler, and being too poor to marry, lounged about the house and neighborhood ; hunted, drank, and Philandered with bar-maids and country lasses, finally died a bachelor, and was buried by the side of his forefathers. The daughters, if not married in good time, usually entered a nunnery, so long as these refuges for desperate maidens flourished in England. If there ever^was a family that had preserved a blameless existence throughout so long a period, during which the world had been so often tempest-tossed by political and religious revolutions, it was that of the Habingdons, not one of whom, up to the time in which our story commences, had ever been sus-per-col, or obliged to flee his country for felony, treason, or patriotism.

I

The present head of this ancient, though not very illustrious race, was Everard Habingdon, who might lawfully aspire to the dignity of an Esquire, which he justly observed was much more ancient than those mushroom titles which had sprung up amid the corruptions of the feudal system. He was a harmless person ; rather reserved, if not actually shy ; somewhat of a scholar ; a little of an astrologer ; still more of an antiquary, and as loyal as a colonial official, as might be expected from the aristocratic pretensions of his family. But there was a still better reason. He had written a book in defense of the Jure DivinOy and against toleration, in which he maintained that the desire of liberty was the sole cause of the fall of Adam ; that the divine right of kings extended equally to doing wrong; and that princes might with less hazard give full liberty to men's vices and crimes than to their consciences. In short, he was one of those blind, wise men, who imagine that religion and governments will remain the same, while everything around them is changing.

After thus publicly committing himself, there was no room for backsliding ; and though, next to the laws of Edward the Confessor, he cherished a profound respect for Magna Charta^ which venerable old parchment had been not a little singed by James the First, as well as his successor, yet did the old gentleman continue to the end of his days a pattern of loyalty, a perfect exemplification of the doctrines of passive obedience and non-resistance. It cannot, however, bo denied that his principles were once grievously assailed on a certain occasion, during one of those " Royal Progresses," not uncommon in the reign of Elizabeth and James, when the sovereign was accustomed to honor certain special favorites with visits that nearly ruined them, his cattle, teams, and laborers were all put in requisition in behalf of the royal vagrant, who was exempted from the ignominy of making compensation by virtue of the prerogative. But with all these foibles of the age, he was in the main an honest, good-tempered man, full of the milk of human kindness towards all mankind, except Crop-ears, Papists, Republicans, and Frenchmen.

The posterity of Squire Everard Habingdon was an only son, now just arrived at manhood, who was called Harold, after his grandfather, of whom honorable mention would be here made, had not his life passed like a ship over the sea, or a bird through the air, without leaving a trace behind. They were the last of their race, the father and son. Every other branch of the old family tree had withered, dropt off, rotted, and mingled with its parent dust.

The Squire had in the downhill of life committed suicide on the family dignity, after the manner of many discreet old bachelors, and took to wife a buxom, blooming country damsel, who had approved herself eminently useful in keeping his house in order, as well as attentive in time of sickness. And here we must beg permission to remark on the egregious vanity of some would-be wise men, who imagine there is such a thing as the enjoyment of perfect freedom in this worlds and who therefore studiously avoid entering into the bonds of matrimony, in the hope of escaping that species of government which, though not noticed by Aristotle, or his commentators, is supposed to be of primitive origin. The great law of attraction pervades all nature, and the constituent parts of the universe might as well rebel against it, as man attempt to resist its power. He may for a time, perhaps, escape that species of witchcraft which is the common attribute of women, who have, for that reason, in all ages been singled out as the peculiar victims of superstition and ignorance ; but his time must come at last, and some blooming handmaid, or plump, middle-aged housekeeper, will sooner or later avenge her sex by exercising despotic sway over the refractory sinner, who pretended to hold them in defiance.

Squire Everard Habingdon is a case in point. Just as he arrived at that age, beyond which it is said a man never improves, the great law of attraction began to operate with irresistible force, and in despite of eight hundred years of uninterrupted, unimpeachable purity of blood, did he marry a damsel without a pedigree, and who, it is greatly suspected, had not a drop of Saxon blood in her veins. By this fortunate slip new life and spirit was infused into the old, lazy current, which had for so many ages slumbered in the bodies of the Habingdons, and thrown great doubt on the theory of Dr. Harvey. There is nothing like crossing the breed ; and if the present race of kings, throughout all Christendom, would only follow the example of Squire Habingdon, there is every reason to believe their posterity would be both physically and morally greatly improved.

Be this as it may, Harold, the sole issue of this union of opposites, was a striking exception to all his ancestors on record, and foreboded a revolution in the house of Habingdon. He was of a hardy, courageous, energetic, and determined spirit ; but these qualities, as is not very unusual, veiled themselves under the appearance, and indeed reality, of a cool, quiet, demeanor, approaching humility. Yet the current of his feelings, though it scarcely murmured or rippled, was deep and strong. He had passed some time at Oxford, the most loyal and orthodox of universities ; but having tweaked the nose of a scholar who insulted him, and who was son to a nobleman, the patron of sixteen livings and four fellowships, and refusing to apologize, he was expelled as contumacious, and returned home. The Squire, in accordance with his doctrine of passive obedience and non-resistance, would have had him attempt to reinstate himself by complying with the requisitions of his college ; but Harold, though hitherto the most docile and obedient of sons, demurred on this one occasion, and his obstinacy proved invincible. From this time he occupied himself either in desultory reading, in rambling in lonely solitude, banqueting, or rather starving on his own thoughts, that rose and died away without leading to action, and bearing on his shoulders the most grievous of all burdens except remorse — the leaden weight of unoccupied time. Thus he lived, unacquainted with himself and unknown to others ; nourishing that quiet, latent enthusiasm which formed the basis of his character, until called upon to mingle in the strife of men, and take part in that terrible conflict now approaching a crisis, between the prerogative of the king and the rights of the people of England.

The little estate of Habingdon lay in a remote part of England, where Puritanism had made no inconsiderable progress. Though persecuted by the dominant church according to invariable custom, until the new world set an example of toleration to the old, that indomitable spirit, so essential to the existence and progress of a new sect, which, like a strange bird in a poultry-yard, is sure to unite all the established denizens against it on a first appearance, enabled them not only to resist the tide of persecution, but make, at length, inroads on their persecutors. The milder spirit of the age had abolished the rack, the stake, and the fagot in England, yet the ruling church still flourished the cat-o'-nine tails of star-chamber fines, spiritual censures, imprisonment, stripes, and pillory. It did not actually inflict martyrdom, but contented itself with slitting noses and cutting off" ears. Still, like certain hardy plants, that only grow more sturdily for being crushed under foot, the severe doctrines of the Puritans continued to advance as irresistibly as the tide of the ocean, and only rose the higher for tho barrier that opposed them.

The elder Habingdon scorned these Crop-ears, as he called them, with his heels, and so did the younger, who had imbibed a deep-rooted prejudice^ amounting to antipathy, against these obstinate schismatics, at Oxford, the very hotbed of loyalty and orthodoxy, where it is said pedantry is often mistaken for learning, and bigotry for religion. The retired situation of this part of the country proved, however, favorable to the growth of the new sect^ and meetings, known by the opprobrious epithet of conventicles, were occasionally held in the neighborhood. It so happened that as Harold was one morning strolling away from home at random, and without any settled purpose, except, perhaps that of killing time in a retirement that afforded little amusement and less excitement, he unexpectedly came upon one of those unlawful assemblages. He was roused from his reverie, at first, by the distant moanings of a monotonous hymn, that broke on the silence of a calm summer day with a simple melody that harmonized with the scenery around, which exhibited only the unstadied graces of nature in her birth-day attire ; and, attracted by the sound, quietly approached the wood whence it proceeded, where he found a number of plain country people of both sexes and divers ages reverently listening to a preacher, so different in appearance from all he had ever seen or heard, that his attention was at once attracted, and he unconsciously became an auditor, notwithstanding his contempt and dislike of his associates.

He appeared without any of the insignia of a Protestant clergyman. Instead of a gown and band, he was dressed in coarse materials fashioned after the garments worn by the country people at this period, and both his language and manners announced that he had not been drilled into the etiquette of the established church. His face was pale and stern, bearing a striking expression of intellectual as well as moral vigor. He wore a black velvet cap, which covered his ears but left his brow exposed, and addressed his little audience in a voice equally melodious and powerful. He spoke of the corruptions of the times ; the profligacy of the higher ranks, and the laxity of morals among the people who had been led away by their example. He declaimed bitterly against the innovations of the established church, and the persecution of those who were seeking to restore the purity and simplicity of the apostolic times. To illustrate this last, he reverted to his own labors and sufferings. He bared his arms and showed the marks of manacles on his wrists ; he pointed to the stripes he had endured, the scars of which remained indelible on his shoulders ; and finally pulling off his cap, the audience, which listened and gazed in reverent silence, perceived that he was destitute of ears.

" These," he exclaimed, with almost supernatural vehemency, " these are the testimonials of the sincerity of my faith, and the truth of my doctrines ; these are the rewards I have received for following the dictates of my heart and my understanding. These badges of infamy, which in better times marked for contempt and abhorrence the lowest, most atrocious offenders against the peace of society and the rights of their fellow-creatures, are borne by one who, though standing as a criminal before the throne of grace, and humbly hoping for pardon, is innocent of any crime against his brother man, for the welfare of whose immortal soul he is ready and willing to lay down his life, and triumph in the sacrifice. For myself I care not, for I knew and was prepared for all, and more than I have suffered. But" — and here he pointed towards a sober-looking matron, by whose side sat a young woman plainly attired — " But look you there — ^those whom I love and cherish above all earthly treasures have shared my sufferings and disgrace. They have been dragged from the peaceful fireside of our humble home, and carried away like the daughters of Israel, to herd with criminals, and be insulted by turnkeys and jailors ; they have been reviled, outraged, yea, smitten by brutes in the shape of men, and I — I was compelled to look on, unable to afford them help or consolation, except by appealing to Heaven, and offering up my prayers.

" But think not, my brethren and sisters," continued he with increasing fervor, think not that I complain of my sufferings in the cause of truth and piety. It is one of the inflexible laws of the Most High that all good hero as well as hereafter must be purchased by sacrifices ; and as a pure and holy faith is the greatest of all sublunary blessings, so must it be attained by the greatest of all human inflictions. Let none that hear me be afraid ; let none despair of better times, because they are not already come. Remember that the black cloud charged with the bolts of heaven is the harbinger of a brighter sunshine, and that after wandering through the deep shadows of the cold and chilly wood, we suddenly enter the region of light and warmth. Believe me — I say, be sure that the period is close at hand, when the oppressor shall be laid low, and the beneficent Messiah reign in place of the tyrant."

At this moment, when the listening group was wrapt in the silence of breathless sympathy, the preacher was interrupted by a loud voice, exclaiming :

" Who talks of the tyrant ? He must mean our most gracious sovereign King Charles. Down with the Crop-ear, seize him and his gaping crew. I'll teach him to rail at the king and the church. He shall be hanged for heresy and quartered for treason."

A posse of peace officers, as by courtesy they were called, at the head of which was Master Justice Shorthose, the author of the foregoing speech, now rushed, forward into the midst of the affrighted group, which was taken by surprise. A few of the most alert made their escape into the wood, but by far the greater number were captured, and among the rest our friend Harold, who had been so wrought upon by the crop-eared preacher that he was completely taken by surprise. But if this had not been the case, he was of a mettle that never stomached running away. The Justice, who knew him well, was one of those pliant tools of power, who have been so often described that it is scarcely worth our while to sketch his character. It is sufficient to say that he was ignorant, servile and tyrannical ; and that he had a most stupendous idea of the dignity of his office, considering himself the immediate representative of his most sacred majesty King Charles the First. He recognized Harold among the stricken pigeons, and exclaimed —

'' 'Slife, Master Harold Habingdon, are you among the Crop-ears ? Are you, too, a convert to the whipping-post, the pillory, and the jail ? Pray how long is it since you aspired to the martyrdom of losing your ears ? Does your worthy father know of your conversion ?"

To this insulting address, Harold at first scorned any reply ; but recollecting the delicacy of his position, and the severe laws against conventicles, he at length condescended to explain his appearance on this occasion in the confident expectation of being released. But he reckoned without his host. Master Shorthose was a magistrate who knew but one law, to wit, the will of his superiors, and held himself bound to carry it into effect without discrimination, though in so doing he outraged every principle of justice. He listened with dignified gravity, and responded as follows :

'' And so. Master Harold, you came hero accidentally, and listened from sheer curiosity. Don't you know that curiosity is a great crime in these perilous times, and that a man listens at the risk of losini; his ears? 'Slife, sir, you have incurred a preemuuire."

"A prsemunire, Master Justice? How can that be ? There is no occasion for warning me to appear, when I am here in my own proper person."

" Well, then, you have incurred something quite as bad, and that is all the same. You are caught at a conventicle, listening to treason and blasphemy, and that is, as it were, becoming an accomplice in the eye of the law, being as how it was your duty as a loyal subject to have stopped your ears and run away. I shall carry you to jail with the rest of the elect, but hope, for old acquaintance sake, you will escape without being stuck in the pillory, or losing your ears, like yonder preaching rascal."

*' Let me tell you. Master Justice," quoth Harold, " let me tell you, sir magistrate" —

" 'Slife, whom do you call sir magistrate ? I am no knight, that you should thus dub me : and what do you mean by addressing me with, * let me tell you,' as it were in defiance ? Let me tell you^ sir, that I represent his most sacred majesty King Charles of blessed memory — no, not of blessed memory, but he will bo in good time — and that you insult him in my person, which being, as it were, the shadow of the substance of royalty, is equally sacred."

" My good sir," began Harold —

" Good sir ! 'Slife, do you confound me with the vulgar commonalty, by addressing me as you would a clodhopper ? It is as much as telling me I'm no better than I should be."

" Well, if you won't hear — "

" Well ! is that the way you speak to the king's representative ? Could you not add, your honor, or your worship, or something smacking of mine office and authority ?"

" In two words, then," answered Harold, half vexed and half diverted at the tenacity with which the Justice asserted his dignity ; "in two words, since you demur to my style of addressing you, I shall merely say, that if it so please your worship, 1 will accompany and make common cause with these good people."

" Common cause — good people ! Very well, sir, this will bring you within the statute, which says — Hem — ^hem. But come. Master Roundhead, march."

" I am no Roundhead, and you have no right to call me so," quoth Harold, somewhat nettled.

" 'Slife, sir, I have a right to call you what I please in the king's name. Come, Master Habingdon, if that pleases you better. You shall accompany me to town with these good people, as you call them. You shall be lodged in jail with these good people, and it shall not bo my fault if you don't pay handsomely for being caught in such good company. Come, this is the best way ; marry, why ? because it is the only one. Come along — I wouldn't be in the skin of your ears for all the fees I have received since the accession of his sacred majesty King Charles the First of blessed — ^liem I"

Saying thus, master Justice Shorthose placed himself at the head of the posse, and marched his convoy, consisting of some eighteen or twenty persons of both sexes, to the neighboring town, where he triumphantly lodged them in prison, there to await the justice of their country

I

I

Chapter II

Israel Banes rrriglit, the Crop-Eared Preacher and his Family — Zeal and Bigotry often mistaken for each other — How Great Changes are often brought about in the Opinions of Men — Grand Perspective View of Justice Shorthose — Misfortunes never come single, as Harold experiences — Trial and Sentence of the Crop- Ear — A Disagreeable Intrusion, and a Prophecy fulfilled — A Separation, and Harold's Feelings thereupon.

As these were times when jails were apt to be crowded, Harold was deposited in the same room with the preacher, who, at the instance of the Justice, announced himself as Israel Baneswright, of Boston, in Lincolnshire, at which his worship rubbed his hands, and exclaimed: