LADY GODIVA: DREAM WOMAN
"Never On Sunday" Part 3
Saying farewell to James, John took the long way home along the beautiful Charles River to contemplate--consider prayerfully--all that had been discussed between them. Part way home, he'd come to the first of several realizations about Chesapeake Bay Colony.
Half-talking, half-praying, meandering down the winding lane, he sought to purge himself of the evil he had heard earlier at the Charles River Pub.
"These Cavaliers! These second and third born sons from the south of England--how can they reject what has been given to them by you and accept so much from the King? What doth it mean if a man loseth his soul and gains the whole world? They strut around proud to be known for their sins, their lavishly displayed wealth, their predatory life styles and their soft sweet spoken drawls. Oh dear God, work through me, show me the way to help these men who take as much pride in breeding their women, as they do their horses and livestock."
The time had come again for him to summon his beautiful Lady Godiva. He needed the comfort of her loins on the Riverbank to renew his soul. The world was too much with him.
"Lady Godiva, where art thou? Do not forsake me in my hour of need. Seest me not? Come hither!" he cried.
* * * * * * * * * * * *
For over 500 years this Anglo-Saxon noblewoman had lived in the hearts of many a man who pictured her riding bare back towards him on her steed. None more so than John Pomeroy.
"Godgifu" in Old English means "god gift," his professor told him.
And that's what she was in his eyes. A gift from God.
Particularly, to John Pomeroy--a lonely student at his sexual peak--far away from home trying to adjust to the rigid demands of Oxford University in London, England.
He'd met her by way of his Anglo-Saxon Studies when he read the story of Peeping Tom, a voyeur, who had watched Godiva ride naked from a hole in his shutter and was struck blind. So fascinated was he by the story, it led him to researching her life and writing a paper. By the time it was done, he had no doubt--she was his dream woman--and he was in love with everything about her.
Years later, living in Massachusetts Bay Colony, he visited Salem to investigate rumors he heard about witchcraft. Shortly thereafter, he developed an obsession to name a town in honor of Lady Godiva. He wasn't sure why, all he knew for certain was that since leaving England, she'd stopped appearing in his dreams and he missed her dearly.
* * * * * * * * * * * *
In Charleston, his friend Governor Winthrop, had moved his congregation across the Charles River to became known as the "First Church of Boston" after the the town in Lincolnshire, England, the supposed home of Lady Godiva's brother and birth place of many in the colony.
Soon after, John convinced the congregation to name the town, Boston, whereupon the following night, Lady Godiva appeared to him in a dream, telling him to hence forth call her "Boston" whenever he was in need of her.
Waking a few hours later with a powerful need growing deep in his loins, he called out,"Boston, come to me in my hour of need."
Suddenly she appeared before him and hideth her hand beneath his raiment where it gaveth great pleasure upon his cot fulfilling his need and he hers as they cried out in great joy and all consuming exaltation climbing great pinnacles in joy to descend and fall into peace.
Leaving him asleep and content she rode off on her steed with long tresses blowing wildly in the wind. Unable to wake, John cried, "Come back. Come back!" as the woman of his dreams disappeared into the heavenly ethers and he suddenly rose to his feet as if to run after her.
* * * * * * * * * * * *
Twenty-one thousand of John's followers and friends had settled in the Massachusetts Bay Colony over the past twelve years. It seemed like too much to bear in light of what they had already endured. Now here they were again with more problems--big ones ENGLAND'S ROYALIST ELITE--splashing on to their shores.
All Anglicans they were. Ones John wanted to forget.
After 12 years of hard work, conditions were improving. Not not only in the colony, but back in England where the Puritans were gaining the upper hand. Now, the shoe was on the other foot. The Anglicans were feeling the pinch and in the same position as the Puritans were in 1630.
For certain, John and his friends had out foxed King Charles I, by securing the Massachusetts Bay Charter. But the Crown could not show cause or justification for any wrong doing on their behalf. And at a time of great financial troubles for England, the charter benefited them and relieved King Charles I and King Charles II of any obligatory gratuitous help that would have otherwise been expected of a mother country.
At least they had won the respect from family, friends and foes in England who visited to escape their plagues and other woes. Despite all its hardships, Massachusetts Bay Colony had endured. Any success they shared was only with their maker, not the royal elite.
In truth, England had little want of imports from the colony outside of supplies for the Royal Navy--lumber and its by products for ship building offered the crown some benefit--but not enough to keep them content.
The real bone of contention was that instead of supplementing the English economy, the colony built its own ships and set itself up as an economic world competitor to supplement their meager farming income. That stuck in the crowns craw and would not go away. It rose to the surface over and over again.
"Follow the money when you want to see where the trouble comes from," was never more true.
* * * * * * * * * * * *
It would be dark soon. John increased his gait down the meandering path along the river and thought on his meeting in seven days with Sir William Berkeley, the new governor of the Virginia's Chesapeake Bay Colony.
The very idea of showing up for a meeting in the sweltering malaria infested tidelands in the heat of summer revolted him. Doubly so when he recalled what James had told him earlier in the pub about the poor woman who'd been so savagely beaten in the square for her crime of bastardly.
Deep in thought he stumbled on a root and cried out, "Lord, help me. I cannot even rest my mind long enough to walk without foolish incident."
The walk was supposed to relax him, but contemplating whether or not he should bring such matters to the new governor's attention was a matter of great concern. John knew the governor was of good reputation, but his loyality belonged to the Royalist elite, Anglican faith, and King Charles.
Spiting out his stored up venom, he cursed.
"Damn them! Let them go back from where they cometh! Is there one among the Kings distressed cavaliers who does not believe in their God given entitlement? How do I approach a man who's faith does not hold to the belief in equality among all of God's children?"
With such an outburst, John knew he had come to the end of his rope--that he needed respite from his life at the parsonage. A sojourn from his daily cares was sorely needed, especially if he were ever to find a wife.
Considering it unwise to pursue a wife amongst his own congregation, he'd postponed his ambitions in this regard. On occasion, opportunity presented itself, but he clung to the straight and narrow and did not venture, contenting himself with periodic visits from Lady Godiva.
Remaining an unmarried man had nothing to do with his outward appearance. Despite his maturity, he still caused many a maid's heart to beat faster as he rode through the streets of Boston. But In all of his forty-two years, he had never once known the warmth and comfort of a flesh and blood woman in his bed.
* * * * * * * * * * * *
To Be Continued: Part 4
|
Submitted by:
Madison
view profile
|
You have new unread mail messages!
Click here for your Inbox!
