August 1684
“Master Fletcher.”
Alderman Richard Masterson's Liverpudlian accent had a distinct nasal strike that I found grating. It was not the only thing about him which annoyed me. He had schemed and connived to obtain his position, ingratiating himself with those he knew would benefit him, derisive of those he felt would not. His superficial charm and shrewd maneuverings granted him power here in the new world, which had eluded him on the broad muddy flats of the Mersey.
“Master Fletcher, we need to discuss the indigent situation.”
I turned to look at him. Where I adopted a manner of dress using local materials and cloth, he stuck with more traditional garb. In thick, woolen frock coat and periwig, he was the very image of what we sought to leave behind, and his manner fitted his style. His desire to live freely in Master Penn’s theocracy did not extend to any who overtly disagreed with his own ideas, whether native to the lands around us, or fellow colonists.
“Alderman Masterson.” I turned towards him, careful to stay under the cape that draped my shoulders and legs, so that the rain coursing over the brim of my hat continued on down the flanks of my roan. “Is there to be another town council this four-week? I will ensure every effort to attend.”
“It is the very least that we would expect, there are grave matters to discuss, and you are key to ensuring we settle these matters efficaciously. They cannot be allowed to drag on any further, the council will not countenance it.” Despite the coolness of the weather, his cheeks were flushed a turbid red which stood out against his otherwise grey pallor. Stood on the wooden walkway around his general store, the extended awning protected him from the steady downpour. He waved an arm angrily towards me.
“Make it a priority Master Fletcher, a priority.” With that, he swung around and stomped through the door of his store.
§
When I told Mary about the council meeting, she assumed Masterson's baleful influence without me having mentioned his hectoring.
“That man will have you driven off the council, he cares for nothing but himself and his pockets.” Her summation was as neat as I had heard, and her fear well-founded. Others on the council had told me of private discussions about my removal. “I suppose that means you will be away all of Friday. We had better get the cheese done tomorrow and, if I finish the patterns, then I will come with you and check the store for what materials are affordable. Maybe I will take notes at the meeting myself, the minutes you get never seem to tally with your memory of the discussions.”
I smiled and stroked her arm. Before we came here, she had shown no desire to read or write, viewing them as unnecessary to life, but only a few months after I became a councilor, she had insisted that I teach her both. She claimed that it was so she could write down recipes for the new types of vegetation, and herbs, and meats we now had access to. But I soon noticed how often she arranged things to be with me on council days.
“That will be grand Mary, we'll take a basket for lunch and, if it has stopped raining, there is that nice place near the river we can sit and picnic.” Her smile was spontaneously brilliant, unlike the recent weather.
§
By Friday the weather cleared, and Mary and I made our way to town where we bought supplies and material for baby clothes. Later we had our picnic by the river.
In the afternoon we made our way to the building that served as our chapel and schoolhouse and council meeting room where we
“We now come to the item on the Lenape. Alderman Masterson, you raised this so I will turn over this part of the meeting to you.”
“Thank-you Chairman.” He nodded politely and turned to address the council and gathered townsfolk.
“We have, and indeed are, striving to build, by the grace of our Lord, a town, indeed a colony, rested on the divine word of God as laid down in his most holy book, the bible. As such it is fine to see that our good efforts are thus far being blessed. Our streets are free of the drunkards, harlots, and cut purses we would see in the towns and villages of England. We live in peace and harmony, our Christian principles a vibrant example to all, of the benefits of living by the standards of the Lord.” There were nods, and murmurs of assent.
“But we must take great care. We must ensure devotedly, and devoutly, that our holy estate, this new theocracy, is protected, is safeguarded from the insidious and continuous attacks of the Devil. Like Israel of old, we are a holy and blessed people, but around are the minions of the Devil, ever willing to flaunt their pagan and debased practices, looking for the opportunity to seduce us from the straight, the virtuous, the righteous path, that may be straight and narrow, but is the way to eternal blessings, and not an easy and broad-way to the fiery judgement of our great Lord.”
He stopped to take breath and look at whatever notes he had. His manner was warm and engaging, but I could see the direction he was taking. He would build his speech in a crescendo, looking to sway the listeners with rhetoric and emotion.
I had seen him do it before.
It always struck me as peculiar that, although mainly Quakers, with the quiet and personal devotion I admired, the strident preaching style of Richard Masterson's rhetoric seemed to strike some dormant chord, that resonated with so many townsfolk.
“It cannot be argued that the greatest threat to the spiritual well-being of our townsfolk is the perverse, and pagan living standards of the local indigents, these Lenape. Now, we have worked hard to help these savages see the light of truth from our Lord. We set example, we invite them to study scripture, we open our hearts and our town to them, but do they respond? Do they repent of their sins and choose the way of the Lord?”
I saw heads shaking, either because they were already committed to the argument or because it played upon their own ideas.
“No, they do not!” He slowed the tempo but raised the volume so that now his voice now booming. “It is time that we stop casting the pearls of our Lord before these swine of the Devil. That we leave them to their heathen worship of animals and rocks and clouds; to their love and revelry in war; to their perverted and obscene reversal of the natural order of the role of man and woman.”
He stopped and looked around theatrically.
“I see some of you, in your purity, know not that these, these, savages, promote their women, who, at their own whim, tell the man who can or cannot; do or not do; who are chosen to judge, to judge!” It almost sounded that he would choke out of indignation, and he paused to take breath.
“Like some heathen version of the papist idolisation of the Mother of God, they are blind to the natural, and God given, dominion of man. These are truly accursed and evil people. We cannot allow them to continue to infest and infect our society. We have shown them kindness, but now has come the time to spurn them and their ways, to push them out into their spiritual darkness and allow them to grub about in their own iniquities until the coming day of judgement. I move that we cease trading with these heathens and banish them from the town and from our lands anywhere!” There was a silence, and he turned and nodded. ”Chairman, I return to you.”
As he sat, the silence gave way to an ovation. This was unusual but not unknown. The undercurrent of fervency I found distasteful. Looking around at my fellow councilors, few gave encouraging nods or smiles. The majority either avoided my eye, stared back with defiance or, in some cases, hostility.
I was gathering my thoughts and arguments when I heard the chairman speaking again, but not as I was expecting. I missed his opening sentences, but my attention was caught as I heard him say.
“…and so, it is right that we move directly to the vote. On the motion that we invoke trading rest— “
I stood swiftly and interrupted him. “Chairman, I must have missed the opportunity to speak in opposition to the motion.”
The room stilled and became utterly silent. If a leaf had dropped it would have sounded as a stampeding herd. Before he, or anyone could respond I pressed on.
“So, before any vote I will make the opposition valediction. We heard our Alderman make a powerful speech in defense of our spiritual welfare, of our desire, our need and our absolute requirement to maintain the spiritual purity of the Almighty…”
Part One
Part Three
Part Four
Part Five
Part Six
text and picture by stuartcturnbull. picture created via openart.ai