Unfortunately, there were men in the new world of a sterner faiththan these Maypole worshippers. Not far from Merry Mount was asettlement of Puritans, most dismal wretches, who said their prayersbefore daylight, and then wrought in the forest or the corn-field tillevening made it prayer time again. Their weapons were always at handto shoot down the straggling savage. When they met in conclave, it wasnever to keep up the old English mirth, but to hear sermons threehours long, or to proclaim bounties on the heads of wolves and thescalps of Indians. Their festivals were fast days, and their chiefpastime the singing of psalms. Wo to the youth or maiden who did butdream of a dance! The selectman nodded to the constable; and there satthe light-heeled reprobate in the stocks; or if he danced, it wasround the whipping-post, which might be termed the Puritan Maypole.
A party of these grim Puritans, toiling through the difficultwoods, each with a horseload of iron armor to burden his footsteps,would sometimes draw near the sunny precincts of Merry Mount. Therewere the silken colonists, sporting round their Maypole; perhapsteaching a bear to dance, or striving to communicate their mirth tothe grave Indian; or masquerading in the skins of deer and wolves,which they had hunted for that especial purpose. Often, the wholecolony were playing at blindman's buff, magistrates and all, withtheir eyes bandaged, except a single scapegoat, whom the blindedsinners pursued by the tinkling of the bells at his garments. Once, itis said, they were seen following a flower-decked corpse, withmerriment and festive music, to his grave. But did the dead man laugh?
In their quietest times, they sang ballads and told tales, for theedification of their pious visitors; or perplexed them with jugglingtricks; or grinned at them through horse collars; and when sportitself grew wearisome, they made game of their own stupidity, andbegan a yawning match. At the very least of these enormities, themen of iron shook their heads and frowned so darkly that the revellerslooked up, imagining that a momentary cloud had overcast the sunshine,which was to be perpetual there. On the other hand, the Puritansaffirmed that, when a psalm was pealing from their place of worship,the echo which the forest sent them back seemed often like thechorus of a jolly catch, closing with a roar of laughter. Who butthe fiend, and his bond slaves, the crew of Merry Mount, had thusdisturbed them? In due time, a feud arose, stern and bitter on oneside, and as serious on the other as anything could be among suchlight spirits as had sworn allegiance to the Maypole. The futurecomplexion of New England was involved in this important quarrel.
Should the grizzly saints establish their jurisdiction over the gaysinners, then would their spirits darken all the clime, and make ita land of clouded visages, of hard toil, of sermon and psalmforever. But should the banner staff of Merry Mount be fortunate,sunshine would break upon the hills, and flowers would beautify theforest, and late posterity do homage to the Maypole.
After these authentic passages from history, we return to thenuptials of the Lord and Lady of the May. Alas! we have delayed toolong, and must darken our tale too suddenly. As we glance again at theMaypole, a solitary sunbeam is fading from the summit, and leaves onlya faint, golden tinge blended with the hues of the rainbow banner.
Even that dim light is now withdrawn, relinquishing the whole domainof Merry Mount to the evening gloom, which has rushed soinstantaneously from the black surrounding woods. But some of theseblack shadows have rushed forth in human shape.
Yes, with the setting sun, the last day of mirth had passed fromMerry Mount. The ring of gay masquers was disordered and broken; thestag lowered his antlers in dismay; the wolf grew weaker than alamb; the bells of the morris-dancers tinkled with tremulous affright.
The Puritans had played a characteristic part in the Maypolemummeries. Their darksome figures were intermixed with the wild shapesof their foes, and made the scene a picture of the moment, when wakingthoughts start up amid the scattered fantasies of a dream. Theleader of the hostile party stood in the centre of the circle, whilethe rout of monsters cowered around him, like evil spirits in thepresence of a dread magician. No fantastic foolery could look him inthe face. So stern was the energy of his aspect, that the whole man,visage, frame, and soul, seemed wrought of iron, gifted with lifeand thought, yet all of one substance with his headpiece andbreastplate. It was the Puritan of Puritans; it was Endicott himself!
"Stand off, priest of Baal!" said he, with a grim frown, and layingno reverent hand upon the surplice. "I know thee, Blackstone! Thou artthe man who couldst not abide the rule even of thine own corruptedchurch, and hast come hither to preach iniquity, and to give exampleof it in thy life. But now shall it be seen that the Lord hathsanctified this wilderness for his peculiar people. Wo unto themthat would defile it! And first, for this flower-decked abomination,the altar of thy worship!"And with his keen sword Endicott assaulted the hallowed Maypole.
Nor long did it resist his arm. It groaned with a dismal sound; itshowered leaves and rosebuds upon the remorseless enthusiast; andfinally, with all its green boughs and ribbons and flowers, symbolicof departed pleasures, down fell the banner staff of Merry Mount. Asit sank, tradition says, the evening sky grew darker, and the woodsthrew forth a more sombre shadow.
