Nathaniel Hawthorne: King Arthur in Boston?

Nathaniel Hawthorne
"The Gray Champion"
in The Celestial Railroad and Other Stories


"The Gray Champion"


There was once a time when New England groaned under the actual pressure of heavier wrongs than those threatened ones which brought on the Revolution.  James II, the bigoted successor of Charles the Voluptuous, had annulled the charters of all the colonies, and sent a harsh and unprincipled soldier to take away our liberties and endanger our religion.

There is just a touch of irony in this opening paragraph of the story with respect to the loss of religious liberty.  The Puritans understood religious liberty to mean the freedom to practice their own brand of Christianity, which they certainly didn't extend to other brands  (see Anne Hutchinson and Roger Williams who were banished from the Massachusetts Bay Colony because of religious differences with the ruling Puritan clergy).

Because of the loss of the charter and the presence of mercenary troops, tensions were rising among the general populace.    The Governor and his councilors decided on a show of force to forestall  possible incidents of public unrest.

One afternoon in April, 1689, Sir Edmund Andros and his favorite councilors, being warm with wine, assembled the redcoats of the Governor's Guard, and made their appearance in the streets of Boston. The sun was near setting when the march commenced.

This, of course, drew a crowd.

There were the sober garb, the general severity of mien, the gloomy but undismayed expression, the scriptural forms of speech, and the confidence in Heaven's blessing on a righteous cause , which would have marked a band of the original Puritans, when threatened by some peril of the wilderness.  . . . Old soldiers of the Parliament were here, too, smiling grimly at the thought that their aged arms might strike another blow at the house of Stuart.   Here, also, were the veterans of King Philip's war, who had burned villages and slaughtered young and old, with pious fierceness, while the godly souls  throughout the land were helping them with prayer. . . .

"Satan will strike his master stoke presently," cried some, "because he knoweth that his time is short.  All the godly pastors are to be dragged to prison!  We shall see them, at a Smithfield fire in King Street!".  .  .

Hereupon the people of each parish gathered closer round their minister, who looked calmly upwards and assumed a more apostolic dignity, as well befitted a candidate for the highest honor of his profession, the crown of martyrdom.

With the Governor, his councilors, and the Governor's Guard at one end of the street and the crowd of godly and righteous Bostonians at the other, a bloody conflict seemed inevitable, until --

Suddenly, there was seen the figure of ancient man,  who seemed to have emerged from among the people, and was walking by himself along the center of the street, to confront the armed band.  He wore the old Puritan dress, a dark cloak and steeple-crowned hat, in the fashion of at least fifty years before, with a heavy sword upon his thigh, but a staff in his hand to assist the tremulous gait of age.

 I am here, Sir Governor, because the cry of an oppressed people hath disturbed me in my secret place, and beseeching this favor earnestly of the Lord, it was vouchsafed me to appear once again on earth, in the good old cause of His saints. . . .


This, to me, seems to be a variation on the legend of King Arthur, who, suffering from a mortal wound in his battle with his son/nephew? Mordred, was taken away in a small boat.   In some versions he had died, while others claimed he was still alive.  However, all agree that he went to the Isle of Avalon  whereupon he rests until the day that England needs him, and he will again come to its aid.  The words spoken by the Gray Champion could have come straight from many of the variations of the legend of King Arthur, or so it seems to me.


Of course, it's clear that the Gray Champion is not King Arthur.  I wonder why, though, Hawthorne thought it necessary to borrow a legend from the old country, rather than use an home-grown one.  Is this a commentary on or perhaps a recognition of the reality of the brevity of the English history in New England?


It seems a straightforward variation, but Hawthorne frequently has a hidden message in many of his tales.  Is there a touch of irony here--perhaps one variation of an intolerant Christianity trying to enforce its will upon another equally intolerant variation?