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Title: Roger Williams
Author: Hall, May
Language: English
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ROGER WILLIAMS
[Illustration: Detail of Roger Williams Statue, Roger Williams Park,
Providence]
ROGER WILLIAMS
BY
MAY EMERY HALL
_Author of “Dutch Days,” “Jan
and Betje,” etc._
[Illustration: _The Seal of Roger Williams_]
THE PILGRIM PRESS
BOSTON CHICAGO
COPYRIGHT 1917
BY FRANK M. SHELDON
THE PILGRIM PRESS
BOSTON
FOREWORD
For much of the data contained in this biography of Roger Williams, I
am indebted to the following authorities:
Narragansett Club Publications;
Memoir of Roger Williams, by James D. Knowles;
Roger Williams: the Pioneer of Religious Liberty, by Oscar S. Straus;
Roger Williams, by Edmund J. Carpenter;
Records of the Colony of Rhode Island and Providence Plantations;
History of the State of Rhode Island, by Samuel Greene Arnold;
Rhode Island: Its Making and Its Meaning, by Irving Berdine Richman;
Providence in Colonial Times, by Gertrude Selwyn Kimball;
Annals of the Town of Providence, by William R. Staples;
Winthrop’s Journal.
My sincere thanks are due Mr. Howard M. Chapin, Librarian of the
Rhode Island Historical Society, for the illustrations of the Charter
House, statue of Roger Williams and the Roger Williams seal, also for
permission to photograph the Roger Williams compass, and for other
substantial assistance rendered in the preparation of this little
volume.
I desire, too, to express my thanks for the story of the Roger Williams
watch given by Mr. Henry Russell Drowne of New York City and photograph
of the same.
THE AUTHOR.
CONTENTS
CHAPTER PAGE
FOREWORD v
INTRODUCTION xi
I OUT OF THE SHADOWS 3
II WESTWARD, HO! 15
III NEW NEIGHBORS 23
IV THE WAR OF WORDS 38
V “A CORNER FOR THE PERSECUTED” 52
VI THE PEQUOT WAR 68
VII THE INDIAN KEY 80
VIII IN QUEST OF THE CHARTER 93
IX NARRAGANSETT DAYS 108
X THE CHARTER ON TRIAL 120
XI THE SECOND MISSION 128
XII ROGER WILLIAMS AS COLONIAL PRESIDENT 142
XIII THE COMING OF THE QUAKERS 156
XIV ROGER WILLIAMS AS CITIZEN 169
XV KING PHILIP’S WAR 185
XVI BACK TO THE SHADOWS 200
LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS
DETAIL OF ROGER WILLIAMS STATUE _Frontispiece_
FACING PAGE
ENTRANCE TO CHARTER HOUSE, LONDON 10
THE ROGER WILLIAMS TREE 46
THE WILLIAMS STREET MONUMENT 56
THE FIRST BAPTIST CHURCH OF PROVIDENCE 78
CANONICUS BRIDGE, THE BETSEY WILLIAMS COTTAGE, ROGER WILLIAMS PARK 120
STATUE OF ROGER WILLIAMS, ROGER WILLIAMS PARK 162
ROGER WILLIAMS’ POCKET-COMPASS, SUN-DIAL AND WATCH 206
INTRODUCTION
The new Life of Roger Williams is certain to receive a cordial welcome
and a wide reading. It has been eight years since Dr. Edmund J.
Carpenter published his “Roger Williams, a Study of the Life, Times
and Character of a Political Pioneer,” and twenty-three years since
the admirable work by Oscar S. Straus, entitled “Roger Williams, the
Pioneer of Religious Liberty,” appeared. In the meantime Irving B.
Richman has given to the public his able volumes on “Rhode Island, its
Making and its Meaning,” which naturally and inevitably portrayed the
character and service of its great founder. Rhode Island was but the
incarnation of the views and principles of Roger Williams.
In view of these recent biographies, added to several which had been
written previously and the large place which Roger Williams fills in
all publications on New England history, it may be asked, “Is there a
demand for a new Life?” It may be answered emphatically, “Yes, if it
is written in the attractive and popular style in which Mrs. Hall has
done her work.” She has made herself familiar with the facts of Roger
Williams’ life so far as known, with the spirit of the Puritan age and
the causes which led to his banishment, with his advanced views of
religious liberty, his courageous efforts to defend them and his heroic
self-denials and sufferings to incorporate them in human government,
with the reasons which justify the title now universally given to him
as “the pioneer and apostle of soul liberty,” with the evidences of his
humane and forgiving spirit toward those who had persecuted him and
his wonderful success in preserving them more than once from slaughter
by hostile Indians, with his deep and abiding interest in the native
tribes and his labors for their moral and spiritual elevation, with his
success in acquiring their barbarous language, winning their confidence
and turning many of them from their idolatry and superstitions to the
knowledge of the true God and the acceptance of Christian truth, which
labors place him side by side with John Eliot, the Puritan apostle to
the Indians. With all these things Mrs. Hall has made herself familiar,
and also with his noble service, often rendered, as a wise statesman
and recognized peacemaker among the turbulent elements in his little
colony as well as between the natives and the Puritan settlers, with
his recognition by the British Parliament as a scholar of exceptional
ability and an eminent philanthropist, when they granted his request
for a charter for his imperiled venture, and also with his intimate
acquaintance with some of the distinguished leaders of the England
of his day, viz., Cromwell, Milton and Sir Henry Vane, Jr., and she
has told the wonderful story in a manner that will charm and instruct
readers, both old and young.
The life of Roger Williams was surrounded with not a little of
romance--the uncertainty of the date and place of his birth, his
discovery and patronage by the eminent jurist, Sir Edward Coke, his
unfortunate first-love experience, his migration to the wilderness of
the new world, his expulsion by his companions from their primitive
society, who found him a disturbing element by reason of his advanced
political opinions, his retention of the esteem and friendship of
some of the ablest men who drove him out because of his “pestilential
doctrines,” as, for instance, the Winthrops, father and son, with whom
he kept up an affectionate correspondence as long as he lived (more
than one hundred of his letters to them have been preserved), and
the remarkable success of his “lively experiment,” which has given
to him an honored and conspicuous name with all modern historians
and has exerted an influence upon human government which is rapidly
encircling the globe. Roger Williams was charged by his Puritan
neighbors with having “a windmill in his head.” Not only Rhode Island
and Massachusetts, but the whole nation, from ocean to ocean, is now
enjoying the priceless grist which that despised windmill ground out.
It looks as if Roger Williams was fast coming into his own. Prof. Romeo
Elton said in his “Life of Roger Williams,” published sixty-three
years ago, “His property, his time and his talents were devoted to
the promotion of the temporal and spiritual welfare of mankind, and
in conducting to a glorious issue the struggle to unloose the bonds
of the captive daughter of Zion.” Charles Francis Adams, in his
“Massachusetts, its Historians and its History,” frankly declares,
“Massachusetts, in the person of her ministers and magistrates, missed
a great destiny by rejecting Roger Williams.”
We of to-day undoubtedly look upon the Puritans with more charity and a
greater appreciation of their spirit and excellences than did those of
a former generation. We recognize their great virtues as well as their
glaring faults. They were men of sterling character, of deep religious
convictions, of willingness to make painful sacrifices for the sake of
principle, of great reverence for the Bible and the institutions of
religion, of purity of life in the home and in their social relations.
They believed that religion was the supreme thing and that the
commandments of God were of binding obligation upon all intelligent
moral beings. They may have been too rigid in their interpretations
and too severe in their application of religion to life and conduct,
as, for example, in the observance of the Sabbath. But in our day of
extreme and dangerous neglect men are saying, “There are some things
that are worse than a Puritan Sabbath.” It might be well for modern
life if we, the descendants of the Puritans, had inherited more of
their virtues.
Of course in the matter of the separation of church and state they were
still in the bonds of ignorance. Though they had broken away from the
persecuting hand of the mother land and “the mother church,” as they
loved to call it, they had not broken away from the belief which was
the source and instigator of the persecuting spirit. As Prof. John
Winthrop Platner has said recently in his “King’s Chapel Lecture” on
the Congregationalists, “The connection between church and state was
also close, in spite of their theoretical separation, so close in fact
that the government of Massachusetts Bay has often been described as a
theocracy.... They believed that no human government could be firmly
established, unless based upon the divine.... The mixture of law and
religion of course gave rise to difficulties, and aroused criticism.
It was the persistent exercise of jurisdiction over offenses “against
the first table of the law” (i.e., against the first four commandments
of the decalogue) that provoked the open hostility of Roger Williams
against the authorities, and caused him to protest that the things of
God and the things of Cæsar should not be confounded, a protest which
brought him into trouble.”
The Puritans had hardly reached the dawn of the glorious day which
was to be distinguished by absolute religious liberty. Roger Williams
was enveloped in its full noonday splendor. Hon. James Bryce
denominates him “an orthodox Puritan.” True, if he means an intense,
logically consistent, fully ripened, radical Puritan, a Pilgrim of
the Pilgrims. In the memorable words of Judge Storey, “In the code
of laws established by Williams and his companions we read for the
first time, since Christianity ascended the throne of the Cæsars, the
declaration that the conscience should be free, and that men should
not be punished for worshiping God in the way they were persuaded He
requires.” In similar language Professor Masson declares that Roger
Williams organized “a community on the unheard-of principles of
absolute religious liberty combined with perfect civil democracy.”
Such is the unanimous testimony of historians as to the character and
service of the founder of Rhode Island. Mr. Oscar Straus expresses the
hope “that the time is not far distant when the civilized people in
the remotest corners of the earth will recognize the truth and power
of the principles which throw around the name of Roger Williams a halo
of imperishable glory and fame.” May this new and popular biography,
charming in style, appreciative in spirit and in harmony with the
generally accepted facts of history, hasten the realization of this
sublime hope.
HENRY M. KING,
_Pastor Emeritus of the First Baptist Church_
(_The Roger Williams Church_).
PROVIDENCE, R. I.
ROGER WILLIAMS
“ROGER WILLIAMS STEERED HIS LITTLE SHIP
OF STATE TO A SAFE HARBOR BY THE COMPASS
OF AN ENLIGHTENED CONSCIENCE.”--_STRAUS._
ROGER WILLIAMS
CHAPTER I
OUT OF THE SHADOWS
Tucked away in the northeastern corner of the United States is the
tiny state of Rhode Island. “Little Rhody” she is often affectionately
called, although her full name is “State of Rhode Island and Providence
Plantations.” Such an overwhelming title for such a small body! Yet not
only in length of name, but in the number of her capital cities, has
Rhode Island led her sister states. Up to the year 1900 she boasted two
capitals, while every other state in the Union was contented with one.
From the beginning, Rhode Island has made up in interesting history
what she has lacked in size.
Much of this history is hinted at in the names found within her
borders. Take the name Providence, for example. It sounds as if it had
a story back of it--as, indeed, it has. Other quaint and suggestive
names are found in the streets of the capital--Benefit, Benevolent and
Friendship--and in the islands in Narragansett Bay--Prudence, Patience,
Hope.
Rhode Island’s story is largely that of Roger Williams, yet he was
too great a man to belong to one bit of the country alone. He is one
of the finest characters in United States history, though people were
long in finding it out. Even to-day we do not always remember the noble
services he rendered our country. Men who do spectacular things have
many biographers, while quiet lives often remain unrecorded. We are
apt to forget that it may take as much bravery to stand abuse and loss
of friends as to face the cannon’s mouth, that even more courage is
required to fight for disagreeable truths than to win battles. So while
Roger Williams never did anything to startle the world, he will remain
one of the great moral soldiers of all time. Lacking appreciation in
the day in which he lived, he deserves the honor of our own age. It is
time he came into his own.
The lives of most famous men begin with a fixed date. Stories of family
and boyhood follow, with perhaps a clear description of the great man
himself. In this respect, Roger Williams’ life is different from the
others. We have not the faintest idea what he looked like--whether
he was tall or short, stout or thin, dark or light, had blue eyes or
brown. No true portrait of him has ever been discovered. The artists
who have attempted to give us his likeness in bronze or marble or on
canvas have had to idealize him.
Out of a shadowy past, largely from our own imagination, we must make
up for ourselves a picture of his early days. Roger Williams has left
a very scant account of his boyhood and he was too unpopular in the
seventeenth century for others to take the trouble to record it. When
later writers did so, they made many mistakes. This is not strange,
as there were probably several persons by the name of Roger Williams
living at the same time as our hero.
To begin with, the very date of Roger Williams’ birth is unknown. It
is given by different historians anywhere between 1599 and 1607. In
his own writings, Roger Williams referred once or twice to his age,
but in such an indefinite way that we are led to think that he was not
exactly sure of his birthday. Thus in a letter written to John Winthrop
in 1632, he said he was “nearer upwards of thirty than twenty-five.”
Again, in 1679, he said he was “near to fourscore years of age.” Even
with the most careful arithmetic, we shall have to be content with the
rather vague information that he was born near the beginning of the
seventeenth century.
As to his birthplace, on this point also there has been much dispute.
For many years it was thought to be Wales, but now it has been quite
clearly proved that Roger Williams was born in London. The ancient
court records that point to this fact show that James Williams was the
father of Roger and a merchant tailor living in the parish of “St.
Sepulchres, without Newgate, London.” He was apparently in comfortable
circumstances, for his will provided not only for his wife and
children, but directed that gifts of money and bread be distributed
among the city poor.
Alice Williams, the mother of Roger, who survived her husband, owned
or leased property in Cow Lane. In her will she mentioned four
children--Sidrach, the oldest, Roger, “now beyond the seas,” Katherine,
wife of John Davies, and Robert. To Roger she bequeathed ten pounds, or
about fifty dollars, to be paid yearly for a term of twenty years.
The oldest boy of the family, Sidrach, after he grew up, became a
merchant of Turkey and other southern countries of Europe. Roger
Williams referred to him as follows:
“Myself have seen the Old Testament of the Jews, most curious writing,
whose price (in way of trade) was threescore pound, which my brother, a
Turkey merchant, had and showed me.”
Roger’s younger brother Robert became, like himself, a Rhode Island
colonist. He was one of the first settlers of Providence and later
became a schoolmaster at Newport.
Like many another boy, Roger Williams owed his start in life to a great
man. Sir Edward Coke was a brilliant English lawyer when Roger was
young. His friendship for the lad is best described by Sir Edward’s
daughter:
“This Roger Williams, when he was a youth, would, in a short-hand, take
sermons and speeches in the Star Chamber, and present them to my dear
father. He, seeing so hopeful a youth, took such liking to him that he
sent him in to Sutton’s Hospital, and he was the second placed there.”
The Star Chamber was a London Court, so called because the room in
which it met had a ceiling decorated with gilt stars. The school
mentioned in the letter is better known as the Charter House School.
On its roll of students are such famous names as Addison, Steele, John
Wesley and Grote. That Roger Williams remembered his early friend with
gratitude is shown by these words written in middle life:
“And I may truly say, that beside my natural inclination to study and
activity, his example, instruction and encouragement have spurred me
on to a more than ordinary, industrious and patient course in my whole
course hitherto.”
There is, indeed, every reason to think that Roger Williams proved to
be the kind of pupil Sir Edward hoped he would be, for while at the
Charter House he successfully prepared himself for college. Yet of
his real life as a schoolboy--his chums, his sports, his pranks, his
holidays--we know almost nothing. One tiny bit of information has come
down to us, however, which would seem to show that Roger Williams was
not very different from other boys. Thackeray, the great novelist, who
was himself a scholar at the Charter House School years later, once
said, in a lecture in Providence, that he had found in a beam of the
old school the letters “R W” which Roger Williams cut there as a boy.
Whenever Thackeray had to educate his boy characters, he usually sent
them to this venerable old institution. This is the way he pictures it
in “The Newcomes”:
“Under the great archway of the hospital he could look at the old
Gothic building; and a black-gowned pensioner or two crawling over
the quiet square, or passing from one dark arch to another. The
boarding-houses of the school were situated in the square, hard by the
more ancient buildings of the hospital. A great noise of shouting,
crying, clapping forms and cupboards, treble voices, bass voices,
poured out of the schoolboys’ windows: their life, bustle and gaiety
contrasted strangely with the quiet of those old men, creeping along in
their black gowns under the ancient arches yonder, whose struggle of
life was over, whose hope and noise and bustle had sunk into that gray
calm.”
In all probability, Roger Williams continued his education at Pembroke
College. Being the college of the great man who had interested himself
in the boy, it was the one that would most likely be chosen. After
graduating with a degree, Roger Williams studied law for a time. Then,
deciding to become a minister, he took orders in the Church of England
and obtained a position as chaplain in the household of Sir William
Masham of Otes, in the county of Essex.
[Illustration:
Entrance to Charter House, London. This photograph was loaned by Mr.
Howard M. Chapin, Librarian of the Rhode Island Historical Society,
Providence.]
A delightful and, at the same time, amusing love story has come to
light which reveals one of the last glimpses of Roger Williams in the
Old World. It seems that the wife of his patron, Lady Masham, had a
cousin, Jane Whalley, with whom the young chaplain fell in love. He
proceeded to write two letters to Miss Whalley’s aunt and guardian,
Lady Barrington, asking for the hand of her niece. In the first, he
mentions the fact that the affair has caused considerable talk and
he hints that Miss Jane returns his affection. Then he sums up his
worldly possessions--an expected trifling legacy from his mother, a
little money (“sevenscore pieces”) and a small library (“a little yet
costly study of books”). Pitiful means, indeed, for winning a young
lady of rank! Yet Roger Williams frankly pointed out to the aunt that
the advantages were not all on one side, for in spite of Miss Whalley’s
high birth, she had a most passionate temper.
Everything considered, it is not strange that the struggling minister
was flatly rejected. The second letter addressed to Lady Barrington is
such as only a disappointed, angry lover could write. He says in plain
language that the Lord is very angry with her ladyship and that if she
does not repent, all sorts of dreadful things are likely to happen to
her. The lengthy sermon-letter is filled with Scriptural quotations.
Still, although he asserts, “We hope to live together in the heavens
though the Lord have denied that union on earth,” time proved a rapid
healer. In less than two years he had transferred his affection to a
Miss Mary Warnard, or Barnard, and made her his wife.
The sequel of the unfortunate love affair is rather interesting. Of
course Miss Jane married another man, but, as it happened, he was a
clergyman like her former sweetheart. In turn she came to know the
pioneer life of New England as did Roger Williams, being located for
some years in Massachusetts and Connecticut. She later returned to
old England, where her husband became chaplain to her cousin, Oliver
Cromwell, who was also a friend of Roger Williams. In fact, Cromwell’s
real family name was Williams and some historians have even asserted
that he was related to Roger Williams.
The correspondence with Lady Barrington is of importance aside from
the disappointing love passages it records. For here is given an
early inkling of that unrest and dissatisfaction in religious matters
that was to play so large a part in the future life of the youthful
chaplain. Already beginning to protest against the established forms of
worship, he writes, “A tender conscience hath kept me back from honor
and preferment.” Then follows the merest hint of having received a call
from New England.
By this time Roger Williams had formed the habit of thinking for
himself and of holding firmly to what he believed to be right, whether
others agreed with him or not. During his stay in Essex, he used to
talk over religious subjects with his fellow-clergymen and to explain
why he differed from them on certain points. Among these companions
were Thomas Hooker and John Cotton, whose lives ran parallel to his on
both sides of the water. The three friends rode through the countryside
earnestly discussing the burning questions uppermost in their minds.
Little did they dream where these same discussions would lead! Had
Master Hooker and Master Cotton been told that the argumentative man
who rode by their side was to become one of the makers of American
history and a leader in world thought, they would most likely have
said, “Oh, no. Roger Williams is our friend, but he is really a very
short-sighted and very obstinate fellow.” Indeed, he had gained the
reputation among his Sussex neighbors of being “divinely mad.”
These, then, are the few meager facts of the beginnings of Roger
Williams’ existence before he set his face toward the New World. His
life in England will always remain more or less of a mystery. Not so,
fortunately, his life in America. His hardships, trials, adventures and
sufferings have become familiar history. And it is this part of the
story that is most important, for Roger Williams is, first and last, a
great American.
CHAPTER II
WESTWARD, HO!
In order to understand why Roger Williams should have wanted to make
his home on this side of the water, we should know a little something
of the England in which he lived. It was not then the free, liberal
country it is to-day. In many matters, especially those relating to
religion, a man could not do as he chose, but as he was told. To-day,
one can attend any church he pleases; _then_ he was forced by law to
attend the established church. The king was the head of both church and
state.
Now it was not surprising that all persons of that day did not care
to support the same church. They were not able to think alike, any
more than we who live to-day. Curious, indeed, it would be if we
held exactly the same views as our neighbors and worshiped in the
same church. Some of the men of Roger Williams’ day objected to the
teachings of the national church, others wished to do away with its
forms and ceremonies. And because they could not conscientiously
worship the way the sovereign commanded, serious trouble arose. Those
who were independent enough to defy the king were liable to be fined,
banished or imprisoned. And the prisons of those days were anything but
pleasant places in which to spend one’s time!
The persons who objected to the established form of worship were of two
classes. On the one hand were church members who believed in working
for certain religious reforms without separating from the church. Their
enemies nicknamed them =_Puritans_=. The Puritans argued something like
this:
“We do not think our ministers should wear vestments. Neither do we
believe it right to make the sign of the cross in baptism. Kneeling at
sacrament is sinful in our eyes, also the use of the organ in church.
These ceremonies are too much like those of the Roman church from which
we have turned. But the established church is our church. She is our
own dear mother and we will not forsake her. At the same time, while
still remaining her children, we will try to lead her to a better,
purer life.”
The Separatists went further than this. In turn, they argued:
“The church is corrupt and we will have nothing to do with her. We
will form congregations of our own and worship according to our own
consciences.”
It is easy to see that being a Separatist was a far more dangerous
thing than being a Puritan. By remaining in the church, the Puritan
was shielded to an extent. The Separatist, on the other hand, had no
protection.
When James, the first Stuart king, came to the throne, he kept in mind
the motto, “No bishops, no king.” For political purposes, he determined
on a course of persecution. He said of all those who would not support
the national church, “I will _make_ them conform, or I will harry them
out of the land.”
That is just what he did. A little band of Separatists, who were
later to become world-famous, were glad to flee to Holland to escape
persecution. It was no small thing, three hundred or more years ago,
for any European country to shelter a people whose religion differed
from that of the state church and we therefore like to think of the
liberality of the Dutch. They and the English immigrants lived together
like brothers for a period of years. A thriving settlement was founded
at Leyden, and here, for about twelve years, the fugitives knew the
meaning of peace and happiness. Many of them learned to speak and write
the Dutch language, which one writer has called “the sister language
nearest to the English.” There were certainly marriages between the two
peoples and the English children were doubtless sent to the free Dutch
schools for their education.
As Roger Williams was familiar with Dutch, it may be that he studied
the language with the idea of making Holland his home. However that may
be, such a plan was never carried out. At least once he had occasion
to address King James, though what the occasion was, we are unable to
guess. He merely referred to the monarch briefly as “King James, whom
I have spoke with.”
Why did the English in Holland begin to long for still another home?
Living so contentedly, why were they not satisfied to remain so?
There seem to have been two reasons for their feeling as they did.
To begin with, there was grave danger of their becoming a part of
the Dutch nation. They were afraid of losing their speech, customs,
religion--everything that made them English Separatists.
Then, too, when they had attempted to spread their doctrines by means
of printing, King James had interfered and taken possession of the
types. When such tyranny as this could exist even in kindly Holland,
they thought it was high time to seek a home elsewhere.
“No home for these!--too well they knew
The mitered king behind the throne;
The sails were set, the pennons flew,
And westward, ho! for worlds unknown.”
The rest of the story of the “Pilgrim Fathers” we all know--how they
crossed the water, battled against famine, disease and poverty, and
succeeded slowly but surely in building up a settlement at Plymouth.
Years passed before they had any neighbors. At last, in 1628, the
little settlement of Salem was formed by the Massachusetts Bay Company.
This was followed two years later by a big migration of Puritans to
New England under John Winthrop which led to the founding of Boston
and several smaller towns. The colony which embraced these different
settlements was called Massachusetts Bay Colony.
Meanwhile, things had been going from bad to worse in England. King
Charles was now on the throne and his subjects were discouraged to find
that he was even more of a tyrannical master than James, his father.
How could anybody expect justice or fairness from a ruler who believed
that because he was a king, he could do no wrong? It grew more and
more uncomfortable for the Puritans every day, even in the established
church. One of Charles’ chief advisers, Archbishop Laud, was busy
ridding the country of all “heretics” and other offenders against the
royal will and law. If Roger Williams had now taken notes in the Star
Chamber as he did when a boy, he would have recorded many undeserved
punishments, such as heavy fines, whippings and worse. But he was now a
man and looking with longing eyes across the ocean, as so many of his
countrymen had before him.
As to Roger Williams’ true place among the different sects of his time,
he was without doubt a Separatist. More than one passage in his letters
points to this as the truth. There was no half-way to a man of his
decided character. Believing as he did, there was only one thing for
him to do--seek a refuge in the New World.
“And truly it was as bitter as death to me,” he wrote in after years,
“when Bishop Laud pursued me out of this land, and my conscience was
persuaded against the national church, and ceremonies, and bishops.”
By the last of the year 1630, our pioneer was ready to sail for America
and on December 1st, he took passage in the ship _Lyon_, commanded
by Captain Pierce, at Bristol. With him was his young wife Mary. Very
little is known about her early history--far less than what has been
discovered about the fair Jane whom Roger Williams failed to win. That
she made a good wife and mother and shared her husband’s troublous
career with loving devotion is quite certain.
For over two months, in the dead of winter, the vessel battled with
gales and storms and ice. One passenger, a young man, lost his life
and at times probably everybody aboard felt sure they would never see
land again. It must have been with deep relief and thanksgiving that
the weary passengers finally landed safely at Nantasket, near Boston,
February 5, 1631.
In this stormy fashion, Roger Williams’ new life began.
CHAPTER III
NEW NEIGHBORS
We have seen that by the time Roger Williams had made up his mind to
emigrate to America, the most important colonies in New England were
Plymouth and the Massachusetts Bay Colony. Plymouth was Separatist and
the Bay Colony Puritan, but every day growing farther and farther from
the English Church. We would expect Roger Williams to decide upon the
Plymouth settlement as a home, as its people held similar views to his
own and it was the more liberal colony of the two. Why, instead, he
chose to live in Massachusetts Bay Colony cannot be easily explained.
Possibly in far-away England he did not rightly understand just how
matters stood in New England.
However, there was great rejoicing when the young minister and his wife
first appeared in Boston. The talented stranger was hailed as a “godly
minister” and a welcome addition to the little colony. Far different
language was used a few years later when he was turned out of that same
colony, a homeless fugitive, disgraced and forbidden ever to return!
The friendship between Roger Williams and the Bay authorities lasted
only until each had an opportunity to get better acquainted with the
other.
At first, the future loomed bright and promising to Roger Williams.
Hundreds of miles behind him were tyrannical king, heartless bishop,
and all that had made life on English soil a burden. Ahead were long
years of peace, freedom and usefulness among new neighbors who were his
own people.
How different was to be the future from what he imagined! He had
yet to learn that here, in the wilds of New England, was a tyranny,
in some respects as narrow as that of King Charles. Here, too, was
unjust persecution very much like that from which he had fled. The
Massachusetts Puritans who had left the mother country because they
could not worship according to their consciences now refused to let
others worship according to _their_ consciences. They who had been
made to suffer for thinking as they pleased now caused their neighbors
to suffer for the same reason. They held that while they had objected
to the corruptions of the established church, now that a purer form
of worship had taken its place, it must and should be supported. They
had bitterly criticized the English Church, but nobody must criticize
theirs!
The accepted law was the Ten Commandments. These were divided into
“two tables.” The first four, or those which summed up man’s duty to
God, were the “first table,” while the remaining six, which covered
the duties of man to man, were the “second table.” A person guilty
of breaking any one of the Commandments was liable to be punished
by the magistrates. The government of the colony was based upon the
old Mosaic Law. Severe and heartless were the penalties meted out to
offenders--often more severe and more heartless than those of England.
Naturally the world had progressed during the hundreds of years that
had elapsed since the rigid code of the Hebrew law-giver was in force.
Into this narrow body of believers came Roger Williams, who was to
become the “apostle of soul liberty.” From the very start, he was
looked upon as a troublemaker. A Boston clergyman, Cotton Mather,
writing about this period some years later, said that Roger Williams
had a windmill in his head.
“In the year 1654, a certain windmill in the Low Countries, whirling
round with extraordinary violence, by reason of a violent storm then
blowing, the stone at length by its rapid motion became so intensely
hot as to fire the mill, from whence the flames, being dispersed by
the high winds, did set a whole town on fire. But I can tell my reader
that, about twenty years before this, there was a whole country in
America like to be set on fire by the rapid motion of a windmill, in
the head of one particular man.”
Immediately upon his arrival, the earnest young minister was given a
chance to preach in a Boston church, but he refused for two reasons.
First, the church members were an “unseparated people” and would not
confess they were sorry for having had communion with English churches.
Now it would seem that, on this first point, Roger Williams was quite
as narrow as his neighbors. Yet he was at least consistent. Here
were his fellow-fugitives who had suffered abuse and persecution for
protesting against the “corruptions” of the established church. For the
sake of their convictions they had given up home and friends in the
Old World to face the trials and hardships of the New. Yet they still
persisted in clinging fondly to the old church.
What Roger Williams practically said to them was:
“You have left the old life behind and have started in on the new. You
have been given a chance to found a church after your own heart. Why,
then, are you not a separated people? I cannot preach to you, for _I_
have broken away forever from the church that has persecuted me.”
Roger Williams’ second objection to preaching in the Boston pulpit was
that the magistrates were allowed to punish sins of the “first table.”
This foreshadowed the principle of soul liberty, which denied the right
of civil power to interfere in spiritual matters.
The whole trouble arose from the Puritans confusing church and state.
They could not comprehend that the two should be separate, independent
bodies. In the spring of 1631, they passed a law providing that only
church members should have the privilege of citizenship. They believed
that the magistrates had just as much right to punish for spiritual
offences as for civil offences, or those which disturbed the well-being
of the community. When Roger Williams had carried his views on the
subject to a logical conclusion years later, he made them clear in the
form of a parable.
He said that the State was like an immense ship carrying all kinds of
passengers. Among them are Catholics, Protestants, Jews and Turks.
Their different religions are, of course, very unlike and the captain
should be sensible enough to understand this and let each one worship
as he pleases, according to his own peculiar custom. This is only fair,
as long as the passengers remain peaceful and orderly. If, however,
any one of them refuses to pay for his passage or disturbs the peace,
then and then only has the captain a right to step in and punish the
offender. But he does not interfere because the culprit is a Jew or a
Catholic or a Protestant, but because he has not respected the rights
of others. In the same way, the State has a right to see that its
citizens are well-behaved, but should leave their religion alone.
From the very beginning, then, there was trouble for Roger Williams.
Not many months passed before he received an appointment as assistant
to the Reverend Samuel Skelton of Salem. The General Court of
Massachusetts did not like the choice of the Salem people and wrote
a letter to that effect. Nevertheless, the sentiment in favor of the
outspoken minister was such that he was allowed to take his charge
without difficulty.
At this settlement, matters progressed more smoothly. Roger Williams’
congregation was well pleased with him and showed their affection for
him after he ceased being their minister, as we shall see. He was not
permitted, however, to remain here more than a few months, for the
authorities could not leave any man alone who was believed to be such
a mischief-maker. By the close of summer, he was obliged to move to
Plymouth.
For two years he led a fairly peaceful life in his new home, but it was
not an easy existence. “At Plymouth,” he wrote, “I spake on the Lord’s
days and week days and wrought hard at the hoe for my bread.”
During his ministry, Governor Winthrop of Massachusetts, in company
with others, went to Plymouth for a little visit, going afoot the
latter part of the journey. They were met outside the town, escorted to
the governor’s house, and royally entertained at different homes in the
days that followed. On Sunday, they attended church, of course. Roger
Williams was the preacher, although the Plymouth governor, elders and
guests also took part in the service. The peaceful Sabbath afternoon
stands out in strange contrast to the stormy scenes that came after.
During this period, a little daughter was born, to whom was given the
name of her mother, Mary.
While Roger Williams was not persecuted at Plymouth, he was very
ready to return to Salem and the good friends he had left there when
the opportunity came. Receiving a second call from the Salem church,
probably in the summer of 1633, he gave up his ministry in Plymouth
and made preparations to go back to his old parish. Some of his
congregation were loath to have him go--in fact, so closely had he
endeared them to him that several followed him to Salem.
Before taking up Roger Williams’ history in that town, let us pause
for a moment to see who some of the men were who had already come in
contact with the vigorous preacher or who were to shape his future
course. Such a grim portrait gallery of unflinching old Puritans they
represent! As we look at some of the stern, forbidding faces, we
cannot help being grateful that we are living in the twentieth century
instead of the age of Roger Williams.
Occupying a central place on the dark canvas is a Puritan of the
Puritans--intellectual, proud, superior. There is no mistaking
him--John Cotton, of whom we have had a glimpse before. His mouth
seems about to open, so eager is he for a learned argument. He is the
exact opposite of Roger Williams and the two men are to be pitted
against each other all their lives. The title of “unmitered pope of New
England” will be given him by future generations. Like his opponent,
he follows what he believes to be the path of right, but whereas with
Roger Williams it leads to liberty, with John Cotton it leads to
persecution. We pass to the next portrait with a sigh of relief.
Thomas Hooker, also the friend of early days, comes next. Milder, less
learned, perhaps, than John Cotton, he still has a reputation for able
argument. He is to labor long and earnestly to make the mischief-maker
see the error of his ways.
Governor Bradford of _Mayflower_ fame, dignified and scholarly, comes
next in order. There is nothing of the tyrant in his make-up. While
believing Roger Williams “unsettled in judgment,” he is just enough to
say that he is “a man godly and zealous, having many precious parts.”
Though he does not entirely approve of him, he is “thankful to him,
even for his sharpest admonitions and reproofs so far as they agree
with truth.”
We linger long upon the next portrait--a kindly face, that of a
good friend. It is another governor of Plymouth, Edward Winslow.
Fortunate, indeed, is Roger Williams to have this “great and pious
soul” interested in him. Dark days are ahead and his friendship--not to
mention a welcome piece of gold for needed family provisions--will not
come amiss.
We hardly believe that Elder Brewster, the next in line, could bring
himself to do so gracious a deed. His conscience is too sensitive.
Thankful enough is he that the call to the Salem church will prevent
the further spreading of “dangerous” doctrine in Plymouth. It is the
part of prudence to bid Roger Williams Godspeed.
Who is that eager, restless person who occupies the next place--whose
flashing eyes and open face tell as plainly as words that he is the
creature of impulse? He is always doing hasty things, being sorry
for them, and then doing the next hasty thing that presents itself!
Big-hearted, reckless, courageous, narrow John Endicott! It is no
wonder he is often in disgrace. Let us not forget that more than once
he champions the cause of Roger Williams.
The finest Puritan of them all comes last, Governor John Winthrop
of the Bay Colony. A splendid, noble face is his. He is every inch
a gentleman. He has brought the best of old England into the crude
life of New England and is helping to build up so sturdy a race that
the generations which follow will be proud of their descent from him
and Puritans like him. He does not agree with Roger Williams, but a
life-long friendship springs up between the two. “Mr. John Winthrop,”
said the younger man, “tenderly loved me to his last breath.” Many of
the quaint, old-fashioned letters addressed to the Bay governor have
come down to us. “I sometimes fear,” says the writer, “that my lines
are as thick and over-busy as the mosquitoes.” He discusses religious
questions, talks over Indian troubles and asks Winthrop’s advice,
because, says he, “of the frequent experience of your loving ear, ready
and open toward me.”
These, then, were a few of Roger Williams’ neighbors. There were still
other neighbors, who were friends as well. These were the New England
Indians. From the very beginning of his new life in America, Roger
Williams had taken a deep interest in them. For one thing, he held that
as they were the first-comers, the land belonged to them and could not
be rightly owned by others, except by purchase. It is true that most
of the colonists did pay for the territory they occupied whatever the
natives thought it was worth, yet as soon as Roger Williams gave his
opinion on the subject, he was accused of disloyalty. It was one thing
to bargain with the savages, quite another to announce boldly that
James, who granted the first New England charter, was not “sovereign
lord” of the whole continent, and that those who claimed land merely by
royal grant had no title to it whatever.
In spite of opposition, Roger Williams had the courage of his
convictions. He wrote a treatise on the subject which he sent to the
governor and council of Plymouth.
No portion of Roger Williams’ life is more interesting than that which
deals with the red men. The Wampanoags or Pokanokets, whose chief was
Massasoit, occupied the Plymouth territory, while to the west were the
powerful Narragansetts, whose sachems were Canonicus and Miantonomo. To
gain the friendship of the Indians, Roger Williams endured all kinds
of hard and unpleasant experiences, for his “soul’s desire was to do
the natives good.” He visited them, he encouraged their visiting him,
he patiently studied their language. To quote his own words: “God was
pleased to give me a painful, patient spirit to lodge with them in
their filthy, smoky holes (even while I lived at Plymouth and Salem)
to gain their tongue.”
It was a fortunate thing for the colonists that Roger Williams
took this trouble. Otherwise he would not have been able to act as
interpreter and peacemaker in after years, when Indian uprisings
threatened the settlements. It is not an exaggeration to say that
no one man prevented more bloodshed in early New England than Roger
Williams.
The Indians, often suspicious and untrustworthy where other men were
concerned, always showed a child-like confidence in their best friend.
This was not because he “took sides” with them. Often he told them they
were in the wrong and urged them to do the right thing by their white
neighbors. It was the absolute justice and sincerity of Roger Williams
that won their admiration. He could tell no lie. Of that they felt
sure, so they accepted what he told them without argument or denial.
CHAPTER IV
THE WAR OF WORDS
Very little is known about Roger Williams’ home in Salem, beyond the
fact that it was the former residence of Francis Higginson, a teacher
of the Salem church. At his death, the house passed to Mrs. Higginson,
but after occupying it but for a short time, she allowed her husband’s
successor to take possession of it. Roger Williams probably bought it
outright, for later he spoke of mortgaging it to raise needed funds. If
it was like the usual Colonial dwelling of that day, it was plain and
rather bare, but comfortable and roomy to a degree, after the early New
England standard. A gabled roof, generous open fireplaces, and windows
made up of many tiny panes of glass were its most conspicuous features.
As to the church in which Roger Williams preached, even less
information has been gleaned than that relating to his home. For many
years a tradition has persisted that it was a diminutive, raftered
structure with steep-pitched roof and clay floor--the whole thing more
nearly resembling a backwoods cabin than a place of worship. There
is little reason to think that the Salem congregations--with whom
church-going was a sacred duty--could have been housed in such a rude
chapel, which was no larger than a good-sized room. Yet while the First
Church was an improvement on this, it must have presented a striking
contrast to the beautiful Old World cathedral churches, with which some
of the parishioners were familiar.
Back in Salem, Roger Williams soon found himself in the midst of a war
of words far more serious than any that had gone before. He was first
called to account by the governor and his assistants for the pamphlet
he had written in Plymouth declaring that the right of the Indians to
the territory they occupied was greater than that of the King. Upon
being censured for his opinions, Roger Williams was, for once, very
humble. He said he had no intention of causing trouble and even went
so far as to offer to burn a portion, or even the whole, of the book
if the authorities so desired. The charge was dropped for the time
being. His accusers “found the matters not to be so evil as at first
they seemed.” Yet scarcely a year had passed before he was summoned to
appear before the court for persisting “in teaching publicly against
the King’s patent, and our great sin in claiming right thereby to this
country.”
They were not always big questions that occupied the attention of New
England congregations at this time. Roger Williams was guilty, with
the others, of entering into lengthy discussions about what would seem
to us to-day very unimportant trifles. He was no perfect hero, but had
his faults and weaknesses, like the best of men. Some writers are of
the opinion that he often argued merely for the sake of differing from
others. We should be charitable to both him and his rigid neighbors,
remembering the narrow age in which they lived.
Think of the absurdity of a whole community getting wildly excited
over the question of women wearing veils in churches and other
public places! Roger Williams attempted to show that no modest woman
would appear with face uncovered. John Cotton, in an earnest sermon,
taught just the opposite. John Endicott of course had a voice in the
dispute--there were those who said he was the one who started it--and
quoted much Scripture to show _he_ was in the right. Finally, the
governor himself had to step in and quiet them all. What a puzzling
existence it must have been for the poor women of Salem! When their
brilliant, learned ministers flatly contradicted one another, yet all
took the Bible for authority, what course was open for a mere woman of
ordinary intelligence?
The veil controversy was, without question, unimportant and even silly.
Another matter now came up, which was somewhat more serious. John
Endicott got into trouble because he cut the red cross of St. George
out of the military colors. To him it was an anti-Christian sign that
ought not to be retained by people who had broken away from symbols
and ceremonies. The General Court punished him by depriving him of
public office for a year. What had Roger Williams to do with it all?
Absolutely nothing, as far as can be found out. Yet the blame has
long rested on his shoulders, because, it was claimed, if he had not
preached the doctrines he did, John Endicott would never have thought
of such a thing!
Roger Williams was not regularly ordained until after the death of
Mr. Skelton. Then, in defiance of the magistrates, who were greatly
displeased, the Salem church welcomed him as pastor. The people to whom
he ministered had something of his own courageous spirit in holding out
for the appointment.
The Indian question was not the only one for which the General Court
rebuked Roger Williams. On one charge or another, he was repeatedly
in disgrace. One of his offences was the stand he took in regard to
oaths. He held “that a magistrate ought not to tender an oath to
an unregenerate man.” To us, this taking of an oath seems a simple
enough duty and one to which there could be no objection. With Roger
Williams, however, it meant an act of worship and, as such, should not
be forced upon anybody, least of all upon one to whom it had no real
meaning. Believing as he did that the Lord’s name should never be taken
in vain, was it not wrong to require a man who did not fear God to take
such phrases on his lips as, “I therefore do swear by the great and
dreadful name of the ever living God,” and “So help me, God in the Lord
Jesus Christ”? To him this was nothing less than profanity.
The solemn words quoted above are to be found in what was known as
the Freeman’s Oath, which was a pledge of loyalty and support to
the government. The person taking the oath agreed to submit to the
“wholesome laws” established by that government. Now Roger Williams
had found some of these laws anything but wholesome. Then, too, the
Freeman’s Oath seemed to transfer allegiance from the King to the
government of Massachusetts and was, therefore, contrary to the
charter. Thus there were reasons why Roger Williams objected to
oath-taking in general and may have objected to this oath in particular.
Heading the list of “divers dangerous opinions” brought against the
once “godly minister” by the General Court in July, 1635, was this:
“That the magistrates ought not to punish the breach of the first
table, otherwise than in such cases as did disturb the civil peace.”
The words have a familiar sound. Denial of the civil power to exert
authority over a man’s conscience--the true Roger Williams principle!
It was this, as we have seen, which caused a breach with the
authorities almost as soon as the troublesome preacher landed in New
England. At this court, he was plainly told that at the next court he
must either “give satisfaction or else expect the sentence.”
So things went from bad to worse. Roger Williams became ill. He had
traveled back and forth, from Salem to Boston, from Boston to Salem,
with weary limbs but dauntless courage, to argue questions that he
honestly believed were matters of conscience and not of state. At
first his church loyally supported him. In return, the magistrates
treated the church like a naughty child who has done wrong and must
be deprived of something it longs for until it makes up its mind to
be good again. In this case, the withheld treasure was some land in
Marblehead Neck to which the church laid claim. Both minister and
congregation wrote sharp letters to the Bay churches, protesting
against the persecution of their magistrate members. Alas, the churches
were not big enough morally to range themselves against the authorities
and their injustice!
Feeble, discouraged, with a sense of injury rankling within, Roger
Williams withdrew from them and refused to have anything more to do
with his own church unless it did the same. It was an extreme measure,
but there was great provocation. Unfortunately, the Salem church lost
its brief bravery and decided to “be good.” Its minister was left to
fight his battle single-handed.
A crisis rapidly approached. Of course Roger Williams refused to change
his views. He could not conscientiously do so, and he was not the
coward to proclaim one thing while believing another. In the autumn,
therefore, the following sentence of banishment was passed, after
Thomas Hooker had vainly tried to open the eyes of the culprit:
“Whereas Mr. Roger Williams, one of the elders of the church of Salem,
hath broached and divulged divers new and dangerous opinions, against
the authority of magistrates, as also writ letters of defamation,
both of the magistrates and churches here, and that before any
conviction, and yet maintaineth the same without retraction, it is
therefore ordered, that the said Mr. Williams shall depart out of this
jurisdiction within six weeks now next ensuing, which if he neglect to
perform, it shall be lawful for the governor and two of the magistrates
to send him to some place out of this jurisdiction, not to return any
more without license from the court.”
Only one voice was raised against this decree--an unknown champion
whose name has never been found out. Yet the town of Salem, more
merciful than its magistrates, was in an uproar at the news.
[Illustration:
This photograph was taken on Roger Williams Avenue, Philipsdale, East
Providence. A glimpse of the Seekonk River is seen in the background.
The house itself has no historical interest.
The tree is marked with a tablet bearing these words: “This oak tree
marks the first dwelling place of Roger Williams after his banishment
from Salem, Mass., in 1636, which he abandoned in the spring of
that year by request of Governor Winslow of Plymouth. The spring is
160 feet north. This tree was planted April 27, 1904, by the Roger
Williams Association.”]
It would be too tedious and wearisome to wade through all the disputes
of those troublous days. After a lapse of nearly three hundred years,
it is not easy to decide accurately who was in the right and who in the
wrong. There is still a great difference of opinion on the subject.
There was, without doubt, something of right and wrong on both sides.
Some of the points Roger Williams fought for with vigor were not worth
the effort, others were big principles that the world has long since
adopted.
It will throw some light on the matter to know just what the disgraced
man himself considered the true grounds of his banishment. He tells us
one of the magistrates rightly summed up the offences under four heads:
“First, that we have not our land by patent from the King, but that the
natives are the true owners of it, and that we ought to repent of such
a receiving it by patent.
“Secondly, that it is not lawful to call a wicked person to swear, to
pray, as being actions of God’s worship.
“Thirdly, that it is not lawful to hear any of the ministers of the
parish assemblies in England.
“Fourthly, that the civil magistrates’ power extends only to the bodies
and goods, and outward state of men.”
How harmless these opinions seem to-day! Tinged perhaps with a bit
of narrowness, they are at the same time hardly “crimes” for which a
person should be cut off from his fellow men.
In regard to the Indian question, the colonists might have feared
trouble with the mother country as a result of Roger Williams’
utterances. Puritanism was not popular with the King and he would not
be inclined to look more kindly upon the Massachusetts pioneers when
one of their number proclaimed boldly that his father had told “a
solemn public lie, because, in his patent, he blessed God that he was
the first Christian prince that had discovered the land.”
As to the principle that the civil power should have no authority over
the consciences of men, there can be no difference of opinion. In this
respect, at least, Roger Williams was far ahead of the men with whom
he associated. On the other hand, they were sincere in their horror
of any theory that tended to divide church and state. Little did they
guess that the time would come when the two would be entirely separate
and that the honor of blazoning the way would be given to the banished
Roger Williams. Little did they dream that there would be a United
States Constitution with the clauses: “No religious test shall ever
be required as a qualification to any office or public trust under
the United States,” and “Congress shall make no law respecting an
establishment of religion, or prohibiting the free exercise thereof.”
On account of Roger Williams’ poor health, the time limit of six weeks
was extended to spring. He was a menace, and yet there was something so
lovable about him that even his enemies could not hate him very hard.
What a dreary outlook for the disgraced, disappointed man at the
beginning of the new year! He had now been in New England a little
less than five years. Instead of having gained a position as a
wonderful preacher with a brilliant future, he had lost his church and
even a place in the colony. That same church, after upholding his cause
for a brief period, had deserted him. The support of his dear ones was
harder than ever, for a new baby had come into the Williams household.
With health broken down under the strain of his trials, the husband and
father was yet forced to begin planning for a new home in some unknown
country to the west.
The day of banishment was hastened when it was discovered that Roger
Williams was holding meetings in his own house. “He did use to
entertain company,” so the ancient records run, “and to preach to
them, even of such points as he had been censured for.” The rumor also
went around that he had decided to found a settlement on the shores of
Narragansett Bay and to take along with him about twenty persons whom
he had won to his way of thinking. Immediately the authorities were
alarmed. It would never do to have such unsettled men for neighbors!
They might continue to spread their dangerous doctrines among the other
churches. Why not dispose of their mischievous leader once and for all
by shipping him back to England? It was the easiest way out of the
difficulty, for a vessel was even then lying at anchor, ready to sail.
For a last time poor Roger Williams was again summoned to the Boston
court. He answered that he was not able to attend. A captain by the
name of Underhill was then sent to Salem with a small sailing-vessel to
bring the ringleader back with him. He landed in the town and made his
way to the home of the man he sought. A patient, kindly woman appeared.
Was her husband at home? No. Where was he, then? She did not know. How
long had he been gone? Three whole days.
Captain Underhill returned to Boston without Roger Williams.
CHAPTER V
“A CORNER FOR THE PERSECUTED”
Roger Williams now faced an unknown, untried future. He had left family
and home comforts behind and there was every prospect of suffering,
hardship, possible hunger ahead. He must either wander afoot through
the snow-covered, trackless forests or undertake an uncertain voyage by
sea. The latter course was altogether too risky. By skirting the coast,
he was liable to run into the very men who were seeking him.
Whither should he turn? Who would befriend him? There was not much
choice in the matter. He must find shelter with friendly Indians. There
were four persons who either shared his adventures from the start or
else joined him soon after he left Salem--William Harris, John Smith,
a miller of Dorchester who was, like Roger Williams, banished from the
colony, and two youths, Francis Wickes and Thomas Angell.
The record of those winter months is very brief, for Roger Williams had
no idea he was making history. But suppose we let him tell the story in
his own words:
“When I was unkindly and un-Christianly, as I believe, driven from my
house and land and wife and children, (in the midst of a New England
winter, now about thirty-five years past,) at Salem, that ever-honored
Governor, Mr. Winthrop, privately wrote to me to steer my course to
Narragansett Bay and Indians, for many high and heavenly and public
ends encouraging me, from the freeness of the place from any English
claims or patents. I took his prudent motion as a hint and voice from
God, and waiving all other thoughts and motions, I steered my course
from Salem (though in winter snow, which I feel yet) unto these parts,
wherein I may say Peniel, that is, I have seen the face of God.”
The first place which the wanderer decided upon as a good location for
a new home was a spot on the east bank of the Seekonk River. The land,
while included in Plymouth territory, was obtained from Massasoit, the
Wampanoag sachem, whom Roger Williams considered the true owner. It
seemed a favorable stopping-place. Here, during the mild spring days,
Roger Williams alternately tended his garden and worked upon his rude
dwelling, all the time dreaming of the day when his good wife and
babies in Salem should join him.
Alas! his plans for a permanent home here were never to be realized. No
sooner were things well started when he received a friendly hint from
Governor Winslow that if he wished to avoid further trouble, it would
be well for him to choose another home site.
“I first pitched and began to build at Seekonk, now Rehoboth, but I
received a letter from my ancient friend, Mr. Winslow, then Governor
of Plymouth, professing his own and others’ love and respect to me,
yet lovingly advising me, since I was fallen into the edge of their
bounds, and they were loath to displease the Bay, to remove but to the
other side of the water, and then, he said, I had the country free
before me, and might be as free as themselves, and we should be loving
neighbors together.”
Discouraging news, indeed! Was there never to be peace or rest for the
banished one?
“And surely, between those, my friends of the Bay and Plymouth, I was
sorely tossed for one fourteen weeks, in a bitter winter season, not
knowing what bread or bed did mean, beside the yearly loss of no small
matter in my trading with English and natives, being debarred from
Boston, the chief mart and port of New England. God knows that many
thousand pounds cannot repay the losses I have sustained.”
With his face again set toward some new, unknown home, Roger Williams
began reconnoitering. By this time (probably June, 1636), he had been
joined by a fifth refugee from Salem, Joshua Verin--perhaps several
others. One day, embarking in a canoe, Roger Williams sailed down the
Seekonk River and crossed to the opposite shore. The story is told that
at a jagged point, later called Slate Rock, the Indians came down to
the water’s edge and greeted him with the friendly cry, “What cheer,
Netop?” or, in other words, “How do you do, friend?” Kindly words, even
though they came from the lips of savages! Best of all, the voyager was
not asked to “move on.” Was it not a good omen that in his search for a
permanent home, he should be greeted first of all by the Indians with
whom he had labored so faithfully and lovingly?
Whatcheer Field, in the vicinity of the rock, became the property of
Roger Williams and was used by him for planting. The historic rock
itself is now hidden underground back from the shore, but the spot has
been marked by a monument dedicated “to the memory of Roger Williams,
the Apostle of Soul Liberty.” The story of the meeting of the red men
and their white friend has been further preserved in the form of the
city seal of Providence.
[Illustration:
This monument, erected in 1906, is dedicated “To the memory of Roger
Williams, the Apostle of Soul Liberty.” It is at the foot of Williams
St., Providence, in Roger Williams Square, given to the city by the
heirs of Governor James Fenner. A bronze bas-relief shows the landing
of Roger Williams and his friends.
The monument bears these words: “Below this spot, then at the water’s
edge, stood the rock on which, according to tradition, Roger Williams,
an exile for his devotion to freedom of conscience, landed 1636.”]
Roger Williams did not, however, build at this point. The Indians
probably directed him to better land at the west where there was
running water. With his companions, he investigated the situation.
Paddling to the south, they rounded a point of land, and then turned
north until they reached a river bearing the Indian name Moshassuck.
At a point near a pure, bubbling spring, the little company landed,
realizing that at last they had found a good abiding-place. Moving
day--or, more likely, a series of moving days--followed.
It actually seemed as if the wanderer’s darkest days were over and, in
gratitude to God for his goodness, Roger Williams gave the quaint name
of Providence to the settlement that was now begun. At first he had no
intention of founding an English community. “My soul’s desire was to do
the natives good” are his own words, adding that he had no inclination
for other company. Out of the bigness of his heart, however, he let
in a few distressed souls, then welcomed a few more, until finally
Providence became “a corner as a shelter for the poor and persecuted.”
In regard to Roger Williams’ occupation of the new land, only after
he had purchased it from the Indians did he take possession. He
practiced exactly what he had preached about the simple justice of
paying the natives for the land which they rightfully claimed. He was
on Narragansett territory and therefore negotiated with the sachems of
that tribe, Canonicus and his nephew, Miantonomo. Having mortgaged his
house at Salem, he was able to make such a purchase.
Only the close friendship between Roger Williams and the Narragansett
chiefs could have brought about this transfer of property thus
easily. Though money and presents paid for it, still both parties
looked upon it as a gift. “I was the procurer of the purchase,” said
Roger Williams, “not by monies nor payment, the natives being so
shy and jealous, that monies could not do it; but by that language,
acquaintance and favor with the natives and other advantages which it
pleased God to give me.... Canonicus was not to be stirred with money
to sell his lands to let in foreigners. ’Tis true he received presents
and gratuities many of me, but it was not thousand nor ten thousands
of money could have bought of him an English entrance into the Bay....
And, therefore, I declare to posterity that were it not for the
favor God gave me with Canonicus, none of these parts, no, not Rhode
Island, had been purchased or obtained, for I never got anything out of
Canonicus but by gift.”
This steadfast and beautiful friendship between Roger Williams and
the Narragansett sachems endured during the lifetime of all, although
Canonicus was “most shy of all English to his last breath.” Here
were neighbors with whom there was no quarrel. They and the founder
of Providence gave and took, lent and borrowed, in true neighborly
fashion. Roger Williams allowed them the use of his boats, made them
presents, loaned them his servant, gave them freely of his time and
services whenever needed, even lodging as many as fifty natives at a
time in his humble home. Was it any wonder that the “barbarous heart”
of Canonicus loved him “as his son to his last gasp”?
The earliest agreements with the Narragansetts were probably by word of
mouth, for the first written deed, dated two years later, refers to
territory already bought on the Moshassuck and Woonasquatucket Rivers.
It confirms this sale and continues: “As also in consideration of the
many kindnesses and services he (Roger Williams) hath continually done
for us, both with our friends Massachusetts, as also as Quinickicutt
(Connecticut), and Apaum or Plymouth, we do freely give unto him all
that land from those rivers, reaching to Pawtuxet River, as also the
grass and meadows upon the said Pawtuxet River.” This old document
bears the mark of Canonicus, a bow, that of Miantonomo, an arrow, and
also the marks of two Indian witnesses. Thus Roger Williams could
truthfully say that this land was “as truly his as any man’s coat upon
his back.” Later, he generously divided the territory he had bought
among his associates, who then numbered twelve, so that he and they
each received an equal share.
In the summer of 1636, Mrs. Williams and her two small children
succeeded in reaching Providence. Once more the future looked bright
to the patient husband and father.
The government of Providence was of the simplest kind. A compact was
drawn up and signed by the settlers, in which they agreed to uphold
every measure that was for “the public good of the body,” but “_only in
civil things_.” What did this mean? That at last a colony was founded
in which church and state were wholly independent of each other. It
was precisely the sort of agreement we should expect Roger Williams to
provide for the new settlement. It proclaimed to the world, “Here is a
real democracy--a government by the people. Here is religious liberty
without interference from the state. Here is a society in which nobody
need be a church member in order to vote.”
The privilege of worshiping as one pleased attracted many persons in
the neighboring settlements and even across the water. As soon as they
heard of Roger Williams’ daring venture, they were eager to cast their
lot with him.
Now while the new settlement was thus broad and reasonable, the
Massachusetts Bay Colony grew even narrower than before. Differences
of opinion in church matters continued to arise, for never in the
history of the world has it been possible for all men to think alike.
Punishments for “heresy” were still the order of the day. Banishments
were frequent. Some of the exiles thus disgraced were obliged to seek
new homes as Roger Williams had done.
Among these were William Coddington and John Clarke, a learned
physician, both of whom had much to do with the history of the new
colony afterwards. With the help of Roger Williams, the new-comers
purchased the island of Aquidneck in Narragansett Bay from Canonicus
and Miantonomo. It was this island, later called Rhode Island, that
gave its name to the state. The Indians then residing on the island
agreed to vacate in return for ten coats and twenty hoes.
Another exile from the Bay Colony was Mrs. Anne Hutchinson, a woman
of brilliant and wonderful mind, who had offended the magistrates for
holding firmly to certain religious opinions and teaching the same.
She joined the little Aquidneck settlement and as long as she remained
there, enjoyed peace and freedom from persecution.
To return to the colony at Providence. It was an experiment in every
sense of the word. For one thing, mere existence was to prove a
struggle. Life was hard and crude. The early settlers were unfitted, in
many ways, to meet the difficulties of building up a new community. Few
were skilled laborers, all were poor. Men of professional training were
unknown. No doctor’s sign was in evidence and for many years, whenever
medical advice or medicine was needed, Roger Williams had to send
outside the settlement for it.
Land was plentiful, it is true, but scarcely anything else. Yet one
early precaution taken by Roger Williams did much to lessen the
hardships of those first years. He and Governor Winthrop purchased
the island of Prudence in the Bay as a grazing-place for goats and
swine. Twenty fathom of wampum and two coats was the price paid. Roger
Williams’ curious description pictures it as “spectacle-wise and
between a mile or two in circuit.” This transaction plainly showed
his tact as well as the high esteem in which he was held by Canonicus.
It seems that the sachem wished to reserve half of the island, but was
anxious to have Roger Williams for a neighbor. Two short extracts from
Roger Williams’ correspondence with Winthrop tell the whole story of
the proceedings that followed. In the first letter, he wrote, “I think
if I go over, I shall obtain _the whole_”; the second letter records
simply, “I have bought and paid for the island.”
The purchase indicated good judgment and foresight, for here the live
stock could not stray far, it had good pasturage, and was conveniently
near salt marshes, which were necessary to keep it in the best
condition. As one writer has put it, Prudence Island was the stock-farm
and market-garden of Providence, supplies being carried back and forth
by canoes.
The early “home lots” of the Providence settlers, as they were called,
extended from the main or Town Street eastward, up a steep hill, and
over back in the direction of the Seekonk. They were generous in size,
at least five acres in extent, large enough for house, garden, orchard
and burial plot. Roger Williams’ house was not far from the spring
where he landed. In modern Providence it is hard to find any trace of
the early village that was started on the banks of the Moshassuck, yet
now and then a voice out of the past takes one back over the centuries
to the Providence of Roger Williams. The main thoroughfare still runs
through the heart of the city and on an ancient building in the street
is a tablet bearing the legend, brief but thrilling with history:
“Under this house still flows the Roger Williams spring.”
Hospitality and neighborliness were common in early Providence days,
for everybody was dependent upon everybody else. Roger Williams and his
good wife kept open house for all. Now they took in a sick soldier and
nursed him back to health and strength, once they sheltered an Indian
with a hurt foot, and even went so far as to allow Miantonomo to hold
his “barbarous court” under their roof!
The Indians, in fact, early found a way to the Williams door. They
frequently came with messages from the other colonies or carried
letters from Roger Williams to his neighboring friends. These were
often accompanied by simple gifts, such as some chestnuts from Mrs.
Williams for Mrs. Winthrop or a Narragansett-woven basket for the same
lady from the Indian wife of Miantonomo. The carriers themselves were
always rewarded, of course. Roger Williams must have kept on hand an
extra supply of coats, trousers, tools and trinkets to satisfy their
eager, childish desires.
Besides the struggle for a living, there were other matters which gave
the founder of Providence great concern. We should like to record that
his followers lived in peace and harmony, that there was never any
discord, that they showed the Bay Colony they were well-behaved, ideal
neighbors. This would not be true history, however. The colonists were
only human. Besides, not all were able to understand the real meaning
of the advanced principles for which their leader stood. They mistook
liberty for license. Quarrels arose from time to time and disturbances
were sometimes caused by troublesome persons who would be called
“cranks” to-day. Still the colony was bound to outgrow these petty
differences. No settlement in the New World had a better right to a
successful future, for none was built upon a truer, surer foundation.
CHAPTER VI
THE PEQUOT WAR
Shortly after the founding of Providence, Roger Williams had an
opportunity to show the people of the Massachusetts Bay Colony what
he thought of them. It was in his power to seriously injure them; to
“pay them back,” as it were, for all he had suffered at their hands.
Instead, with his usual sweetness of disposition, he returned good for
evil, “good measure, pressed down, and running over.” For injustice, he
had nothing but forgiveness, for ill-treatment, only love and service.
It required true nobility of character to act as he did.
Grave danger threatened all New England at this time--the possibility
of a widespread Indian outbreak. In reality, it was more than a
possibility--it was almost a certainty. Already there had been several
indications that the savages meant to make trouble. Of all the
neighboring tribes, the colonists had most to fear from the Pequots.
These were a powerful and dreaded people who occupied territory at
the west of the Narragansetts in what is now the eastern part of
Connecticut. Some time before this, they had been suspected of having
a hand in the murder of a number of white traders on the Connecticut
River. Now, the same year that Roger Williams’ new settlement was
begun, another English trader, John Oldham by name, was killed off
Block Island under circumstances similar to those of the first outrage.
At this point Roger Williams comes into the story. He sent news of
the tragedy to Governor Vane of Massachusetts Bay and thus hastened
the preparations of that colony to protect itself. A force under the
command of the doughty John Endicott was sent into the Pequot country
to bring the natives to terms. The Massachusetts men inflicted losses
by burning wigwams and destroying crops, but failed to punish with any
degree of thoroughness. The expedition had but one effect--to madden
the Pequots to further activity.
A feeling of alarm and insecurity spread throughout all the
settlements. The Indians had signed treaties, it is true, but it was
no longer safe to trust their word. There was reason to think that
the enmity of the Pequots was only the first step toward a general
massacre. To better carry out their purposes, the Indians tried to
form an alliance with their near neighbors and former enemies, the
Narragansetts.
What could be done? Who had influence enough to break up this proposed
league--to turn the friendship of the Narragansetts from their red
neighbors to their white neighbors? One man, and one only, possessed
that power. He was the “dangerous” founder of Providence, who had been
turned out of Massachusetts in disgrace.
In spite of this fact, the magistrates of the Bay Colony lost no time
in appealing to Roger Williams to save them. He responded promptly,
willingly. The story of his perilous mission among the Narragansetts
reads more like a chapter from some exciting book of imaginary
adventure than sober history:
“The Lord helped me immediately to put my life into my hand, and,
scarce acquainting my wife, to ship myself, all alone in a poor
canoe, and to cut through a stormy wind, with great seas, every
minute in hazard of life, to the sachem’s house. Three days and
nights my business forced me to lodge and mix with the bloody Pequot
ambassadors, whose hands and arms, methought, reeked with the blood of
my countrymen, murdered and massacred by them on Connecticut River, and
from whom I could not but nightly look for their bloody knives at my
own throat also. God wondrously preserved me, and helped me to break
to pieces the Pequots’ negotiation and design, and to make, promote
and finish, by many travels and charges, the English league with the
Narragansetts and Mohegans against the Pequots.”
So successfully indeed did Roger Williams risk his life that in
the autumn of that same year a party of Narragansetts, including
Miantonomo, journeyed to Boston to form a treaty with the English.
Among other things, it provided for a peace between the Narragansetts
and the colonists and contained a promise that neither party should
make peace with the Pequots without the other’s consent, or that, in
case of war, due notice should be given. The old records say that after
the treaty was concluded, the visiting Indians were given a dinner,
then “conveyed out of town by some musketeers and dismissed with a
volley of shot.”
Still the matter was not entirely closed, for the colonists, lacking
a thorough knowledge of the Indian tongue, could not make the
Narragansetts understand certain parts of the compact, which was
written in English. An interpreter was needed, so a copy of the treaty
was sent to Roger Williams that he might clearly and simply explain
it to the Narragansetts. He might be a dangerous neighbor, but he was
certainly a most convenient one!
The Pequot War took place, after all, but without the alliance of
the Narragansetts. Instead of resulting in the wholesale destruction
of the whites, it marked the doom of the tribe which was foolhardy
enough to attempt it. The three colonies, Massachusetts, Plymouth and
Connecticut, united to crush the Indian menace.
A detachment from the Bay Colony in charge of General Stoughton
marched to Connecticut by way of Providence. Roger Williams hospitably
entertained them, giving the visitors of his best. Poor Mrs. Williams
must have been put to her utmost resources to act as hostess to one
hundred and twenty soldiers! As they continued on their way, Roger
Williams accompanied them some distance in order to bring about a
meeting with their allies, the Narragansetts, and so establish good
feeling.
Under Captain John Mason, the Connecticut settlers, aided by both
English and Indian allies, surprised the Pequots at Fort Mystic, May,
1637, and with fire and sword, practically wiped them out in an hour’s
time. A swamp battle soon afterwards completed the extermination of
this once brave and valiant tribe. The few who escaped were distributed
as captives. The very name Pequot disappeared from the map of the
Connecticut country. The Pequot River became the Thames and the town
of that name was changed to New London.
During the Pequot War and the period just preceding it, Roger Williams
was kept busy. No one could give better advice than he at this time,
aided as he was by his friendliness with the Narragansetts. He became,
in fact, a news agency, continually sending the latest bits of
information to Massachusetts and in other ways serving as a valuable
go-between. He kept the English informed of the Pequots’ designs as far
as he knew them and once submitted a rude map showing the positions of
the Indians.
He occupied himself, too, with another matter--keeping the Narragansett
sachem, Canonicus, in good humor. In one of the interesting old letters
of Roger Williams written to his friends at the Bay, he tells how he
“sweetened the spirit” of the aged chieftain in a very literal way. The
superstitious Canonicus, it seems, had blamed the English for sending
the plague among his people, but Roger Williams convinced him of his
mistake and then requested some sugar for the sachem. “I find,” said
he, “that Canonicus would gladly accept of a box of eight or ten
pounds of sugar, and indeed he told me he would thank Mr. Governor for
a box full.”
There was great rejoicing throughout New England when the Pequots were
finally disposed of. A day of solemn thanksgiving and rejoicing was
appointed in Massachusetts, the successful warriors were feasted, and
services held in all the churches. And what reward was given the man
who, more than anybody else, had saved his countrymen from a dreadful
massacre by winning over the Narragansetts? Winthrop and others debated
whether it would not be well to recall him from banishment or show some
other mark of favor. Nothing came of the discussion. The decree of
banishment remained in force and not so much as a vote of thanks was
given Roger Williams.
Still the main thought in his tender heart at this time seems to have
been that too much severity had been used in dealing with the Pequots.
“I fear that some innocent blood cries at Connecticut,” he wrote his
friend Winthrop. Again, when hands of the vanquished Indians were sent
to Boston and few, if any, of the Bay people protested against this
horrible custom, Roger Williams once more raised his voice. He feared
“those dead hands were no pleasing sight” and regretted that he could
not have prevented such a display of barbarism without offending the
Indians. “I have always shown dislike,” he added, “to such dismembering
the dead.”
After the war, Roger Williams repeatedly acted as peace-maker in lesser
differences between the English and the natives. To all he meted out
the same measure of fairness and justice. If the Indians inflicted
injuries, he demanded that they “make good” with the whites; if it
was the whites who ill-treated the Indians, he was no less insistent
that they do the right thing in turn. No grievance of the red men
was too trivial for him to investigate. Thus he straightened out a
matter of some missing kettles and a disputed canoe, concerning which
Miantonomo’s feelings had been hurt, with all the seriousness he would
have given a matter of state.
One interesting event of the year 1638 that meant much to Roger
Williams was the birth of his oldest son. He was the first male child
born within the limits of the new colony and was therefore named
Providence after the settlement his father had founded. An appropriate
name, surely, but what a curious one for a poor child to carry around!
There is no record that any church building existed in the earliest
days of Providence. Poverty may have been one reason for this lack.
Meetings were held in different homes, however, and as Roger Williams
was the only ordained minister, he conducted the services. There was
no persecution for non-attendance--of that we may be sure. Among the
people who came to Providence because they could not enjoy their
religion unmolested elsewhere, were the Anabaptists or Baptists, as
their name was shortened in later years. Their views were much more
liberal and attractive than strict Puritanism and therefore interested
Roger Williams. He allowed one of their number, Ezekiel Holliman, to
baptize him in the new faith and he then baptized Holliman and several
others. For this public profession, Roger Williams and his wife were
excommunicated from the Salem church. He is generally regarded as the
first pastor of the Baptist Church, but he was not actively connected
with it for more than a few months. No doctrine of the day could quite
satisfy a man of his open mind and earnest determination to search for
the truth. He became what was then known as a “seeker.”
The Baptists, however, continued to prosper and increase in numbers.
They still claim Roger Williams as the founder of the First Baptist
Church of America. The ancient meeting-house bearing that name (though
it is not the original edifice of the society) has a bell with a quaint
inscription which proclaims to the world the principles upon which both
the city and the Baptist congregation were founded:
“For freedom of conscience the town was first planted,
Persuasion, not force, was used by the people;
This church is the eldest and has not recanted,
Enjoying and granting bell, temple, and steeple.”
[Illustration:
The First Baptist Church of Providence is a dignified and venerable
white structure on North Main Street, the “Town Street” of Roger
Williams’ day. It is modeled after St. Martin’s-in-the-Fields, London.
Its bell still rings the curfew at nine o’clock each evening.
The First Baptist Society, the first in America, was founded in
1638, and met either in the open air or at the homes of its members
during the first sixty-two years of its existence. Roger Williams is
generally considered the first pastor of the church.]
To rightly understand the last line, we must know that in England in
the seventeenth century those worshippers who had separated from the
established church had neither bell, temple nor steeple. This is only
another instance of the liberal spirit of the early inhabitants of
Providence.
CHAPTER VII
THE INDIAN KEY
As we have seen, the Indians had much to do with Roger Williams’
history from the very beginning of his life in the New World. He had
lodged with them, befriended them, studied their language, traded with
them, and had been their interpreter. All this was of benefit to both
natives and colonists.
In 1643, another opportunity came for Roger Williams to be of still
further service to his countrymen and their red neighbors. An important
mission (about which we will speak later) took him to England that year
and he made the most of the leisure afforded by the long sea voyage to
put into book form what he had learned about the Indian language and
customs. “I drew the materials,” he explained, “in a rude lump at sea,
that I might not lightly lose what I had so dearly bought in some few
years’ hardship.”
Roger Williams’ purpose was to bring about a closer relation between
the whites and the natives. He believed they could be mutually helpful
if the book were used as a guide.
“A little key may open a box where lies a bunch of keys.... One candle
will light ten thousand, and it may please God to bless a little leaven
to season the mighty lump of those peoples and territories.”
The work was published in London before the close of the year under an
odd and lengthy title which indicated that the labor put into it was
at least thorough. It was called “A Key into the Language of America;
or, An help to the Language of the Natives in that part of America,
called New-England. Together, with brief Observations of the Customs,
Manners and Worships, etc. of the aforesaid Natives, in Peace and War,
in Life and Death. On all which are added Spiritual Observations,
General and Particular by the Author, of chief and special use (upon
all occasions,) to all the English Inhabiting those parts; yet pleasant
and profitable to the view of all men.” Let us hope that the persons
who asked for the volume in the London bookshops did not attempt to
give the title word for word!
No man of that day was better fitted to undertake such a task as the
writing of the Indian Key than Roger Williams, for no man had lived
so intimately with the New England Indians. The quaint book is to-day
considered very valuable and very precious among book-lovers. Of course
most of the history concerns the Narragansetts particularly, but Roger
Williams also made use of the knowledge he had gained from other tribes.
Suppose we take a few peeps into this fascinating old volume, for
nowhere can we find a better picture of the author’s “barbarians.”
We notice, first, that it is made up something like a dictionary. On
the left side of each page are the Indian words and phrases and, on
the right, their meaning in English. But what a difficult dictionary!
Think of mastering such mouth-filling words as “Muckquachuckquêmese” or
“Maumashinnaunamaùta.” Only the patience of a Roger Williams could ever
have discovered that such enigmas meant “a little boy” and “Let us
make a good fire.” It is interesting to know that the very first phrase
in the book is the familiar “What cheer, Netop?” or the first greeting
that reached Roger Williams’ ears in the land of the Narragansetts.
Besides explaining the commoner expressions of the Indians, the author
includes notes about their life and habits. At the close of each
chapter are a few lines of simple, crude verse that sounds for all the
world like the pointed sermons with which good old-fashioned stories
used to end.
As to the religion of the Indians, Roger Williams tells his readers
that he has been given the names of thirty-seven different gods which
they solemnly worship. Among these, Cautantouwit, the great god of the
southwest, was a general favorite. From his field came their corn and
beans and it is to his abode their souls will go at death, provided
they have lived good lives. All murderers, thieves and liars, on the
other hand, must wander restlessly abroad. Besides Cautantouwit, many
other gods are mentioned, such as the Eastern, Western, Northern and
Southern Gods, the House God, the Woman’s God, the Children’s God, the
Sun and the Moon Gods, and the Fire God.
“The Indians find the sun so sweet,
He is a god, they say;
Giving them light and heat and fruit,
And guidance all the day.
“They have no help of clock or watch,
And sun they overprize.
Having those artificial helps, the sun
We unthankfully despise.”
The superstitions of the Indians were many and curious, as is seen by
the following: Though crows frequently stole their corn, yet scarcely
one native in a hundred would put them to death. Why? Because they
firmly believed that the crow first brought them a grain of Indian
corn in one ear and an Indian bean in the other from Cautantouwit’s
field. Another superstition was their childlike faith in the power of
their priests and conjurers to work cures. To Roger Williams’ way of
thinking, these “wise men” did nothing but “howl and roar” over them.
Still, Roger Williams, always just, took care to record the good
points of the natives as well as their failings. This was unlike many
Englishmen of his time, who looked down upon the savages as little
better than animals. For one thing, hospitality was a common virtue
among them. Had it not been so, Roger Williams could never have found
for his book such a list of friendly expressions as “Warm you,” “Sit by
the fire,” “Come hither, friend,” “Come in,” “I thank you,” “I thank
you for your kind remembrance,” and “I thank you for your love.”
“The courteous pagan shall condemn
Uncourteous Englishmen,
Who live like foxes, bears and wolves,
Or lion in his den.
“Let none sing blessings to their souls,
For that they courteous are:
The wild barbarians with no more
Than nature, go so far.
“If Nature’s sons both wild and tame,
Humane and courteous be,
How ill becomes it sons of God
To want humanity!”
Again, Roger Williams tells us, “If any stranger come in, they
presently give him to eat of what they have; many a time, and at all
times of the night (as I have fallen in travel upon their houses) when
nothing hath been ready, have themselves and their wives risen to
prepare me some refreshing. In summer time I have known them lie abroad
often themselves, to make room for strangers, English or others.”
“I have known them leave their house and mat
To lodge a friend or stranger,
When Jews and Christians off have sent
Christ Jesus to the manger.”
Family affection and loyalty were strong in the Indian, while
drunkenness was an almost unknown vice. As for such crimes as robbery
and murder, Roger Williams says that the red men have as good, if not a
better, record than their white neighbors. In war, too, the example set
by the English was hardly what we would expect from a superior race:
“The Indians count of men as dogs,
It is no wonder then:
They tear out one another’s throats!
But now that Englishmen,
“That boast themselves God’s children and
Members of Christ to be,
That they should thus break out in flames,
Sure ’tis a mystery!”
Roger Williams gave the natives credit, too, for being punctual. “They
are punctual in their promises of keeping time; and sometimes have
charged me with a lie for not punctually keeping time, though hindered.”
The Indians were exceedingly fond of news. So eager were they to learn
what was going on around them that if any stranger was able to satisfy
their curiosity in their own language, they called him a god. Forming a
circle about the news-bringer and silently puffing at their pipes, they
would listen with deep attention to what he had to say.
Being children of nature and living mostly in the open, they were
far better acquainted with the outdoor world than were their white
neighbors. Their five senses were trained to a wonderful degree and
they were intimately familiar with the sun and moon, the winds and
weather.
“The very Indian boys can give
To many stars their name,
And know their course and therein do
Excel the English tame.”
A good description of the Indian home is furnished by Roger Williams.
It consisted of long poles covered and lined with mats. Those on the
inside were embroidered by the women and took the place of hangings.
Mats often formed doors, too, though birch and chestnut bark and even
English boards and nails were sometimes used for this purpose. A large
opening in the middle of the house served as a chimney. “Two families
will live comfortably and lovingly in a little round house of some
fourteen or sixteen foot over.”
The principal occupations of the Indian braves were hunting, fishing,
trading, and the manufacture of canoes, bows and arrows. They raised
some tobacco, but left the planting and tending of other crops wholly
to their women folk. Tobacco was highly valued as a preventative
against toothache. While the Indians generally bore torture
uncomplainingly, a jumping tooth would make a coward of the bravest.
Says Roger Williams, “The toothache is the only pain which will force
their stout hearts to cry.”
Canoes were fashioned from pine, oak and chestnut trees. After being
felled, the trees were burned and hewed into shape. A single Indian
working by himself in the forest could finish and launch his boat
within ten or twelve days. Some of the larger canoes were big enough to
hold thirty or forty men. That they were not always the safest craft
for white men is shown by Roger Williams’ story:
“It is wonderful to see how they will venture in those canoes, and how
(being oft overset as I have myself been with them) they will swim a
mile, yea, two or more, safe to land. I having been necessitated to
pass waters divers times with them, it hath pleased God to make them
many times the instruments of my preservation: and when sometimes in
great danger I have questioned safety, they have said to me, ‘Fear
not, if we be overset, I will carry you safe to land.’”
As to food, parched meal seems to have been their main article of
diet, mixed with either hot or cold water. A little basket of meal was
commonly carried on the back or in a hollow leather girdle. This would
last for three or four days.
There was also natural food at hand, of which the Indians made good
use. The strawberry was greatly prized. To quote from the “Key”:
“This berry is the wonder of all the fruits growing naturally in those
parts. In some parts where the natives have planted, I have many times
seen as many as would fill a good ship within few miles’ compass.
The Indians bruise them in a mortar and mix them with meal and make
strawberry bread.” The natives were also very fond of a dish made of
meal and dried currants ground to a powder which was “as sweet to them
as plum or spice cake to the English.”
Another natural source of food was the clam-beds, for which New
England, and Rhode Island especially, has always been famous. Listen
to Roger Williams’ description of the clam:
“This is a sweet kind of shell-fish, which all Indians generally over
the country, winter and summer, delight in, and at low water the women
dig for them. This fish and the natural liquor of it they boil and it
makes their broth and their bread seasonable and savory, instead of
salt.”
The Indian wampum, made from shells found along the shores of New
England, took the place of money. Six small white beads, or three black
ones, were equal to one English penny.
These glimpses into the Indian “Key” give us a little idea of Roger
Williams’ friends among the Narragansetts and other tribes. Here and
there in the book are hints of his kindly dealings with these savages.
One story tells how he gladly went two miles out of his way to visit
a Connecticut Indian on his death-bed. The dying brave told Roger
Williams he had never forgotten the words in which he had preached the
religion of the white men, then added pitifully, “Me so big naughty
heart, me heart all one stone!”
In another place, Roger Williams referred to Canonicus, sachem of
the Narragansetts and his steadfast friend, as “a wise and peaceable
prince.” He tells us how he had hard work to overcome Canonicus’
suspicions of the English. To show he had cause to doubt the word of
the whites, the Indian chief picked up a stick and broke it in ten
pieces--one piece for each time the English had been untrustworthy. It
is not necessary to add that Roger Williams did his best to so improve
conditions that the Indians could put greater trust in the colonists.
The printer who published the “Key into the Language of America” was
Gregory Dexter. He early emigrated to Providence and became a leading
citizen of the little colony and also remained a “dear and faithful
friend” of Roger Williams.
CHAPTER VIII
IN QUEST OF THE CHARTER
There was no doubt about it. The little settlement of Providence was
in disgrace--deep disgrace. Massachusetts could forgive neither Roger
Williams for his unheard-of opinions nor his companions who helped him
found the colony based upon such dangerous principles.
She showed her displeasure in several ways. First, she frowned upon
all residents of Providence who came within her borders. If they still
held that the magistrates were unjust and that Roger Williams had been
persecuted, they were politely invited to turn back home and threatened
with imprisonment should they repeat the offence. Another effect of the
Bay Colony’s severity was loss of trade, resulting in actual hardship
for the Providence settlers. As supplies from England were received
at Boston, little Providence was badly handicapped in securing the
necessities of life. She must either depend upon the more distant port
of New Amsterdam or go without.
As for Roger Williams himself, Massachusetts obstinately refused to let
him touch her territory under any conditions. It is hard to understand
such a spirit of narrowness and ingratitude after the noble part he
had played in the Pequot War. Still he continued to help Massachusetts
on any and every occasion when his knowledge of the Indians and their
language could be of service. They, as repeatedly, kept on accepting
his kindnesses without, however, annulling his decree of banishment.
The following incident shows this in striking fashion:
At one time the Massachusetts people became suspicious of Miantonomo,
thinking that he had entered into a league with the Mohawks against
them. Thereupon, they summoned him to Boston to give an account of
himself. The Narragansett sachem was perfectly willing to go--on one
condition. This was that Roger Williams might be his companion. Well
did the shrewd savage know that if his trusted friend had a part in
the proceedings, right and justice would prevail. Such would have been
the case, but Roger Williams was not given a chance to say a word for
either side. He was under sentence of banishment. How, then, could he
be allowed to accompany Miantonomo? The proposed meeting failed to take
place.
Whenever a disturbance arose in Roger Williams’ colony, Massachusetts
was only too ready to cry out triumphantly, “I told you so! This absurd
theory of the separation of church and state is not working out any
better than we thought it would!” John Winthrop solemnly recorded in
his Journal, “At Providence, also, the devil was not idle.” What Roger
Williams’ critics were too short-sighted to see was that the trouble
lay, not with his principles, which were sane and sound, but with his
companions’ misunderstanding of them. The Apostle of Soul Liberty was
far ahead of the age in which he lived.
The time came when this attitude of Massachusetts threatened Providence
with very real dangers. We are sorry to say that not all the trouble
in the infant colony came from without, however. A few settlers
at Pawtuxet, near Providence, though occupying land over which
Massachusetts had no claim, placed themselves under her protection.
It was the very opportunity the Bay Colony had been seeking to extend
her sway. Providence, having no government, had no right to exist,
she argued. Frankly she acknowledged that Pawtuxet was worth taking
over. Was it wise to neglect any chance that would serve as a wedge to
further extension of territory?
John Winthrop himself had the honesty to reveal Massachusetts’ real
motives back of her protection of the Pawtuxet malcontents:
“This we did partly to draw in the rest in those parts, either under
ourselves or Plymouth, who now lived _under no government_, but grew
very offensive, and the place was likely to be of use to us, especially
if we should have occasion of sending out against any Indians of
Narragansett and likewise for an outlet into the Narragansett Bay, and
seeing it came without our seeking, and would be no charge to us, we
thought it not wisdom to let it slip.”
For a while, the outlook was most discouraging for the struggling
settlement at the head of Narragansett Bay. Things went from bad
to worse. The climax was reached when, in the spring of 1643,
Massachusetts, Plymouth, Connecticut and New Haven joined to form “The
United Colonies of New England.” Providence and Aquidneck were left
out. The chief purpose of the federation was mutual protection against
the natives. The Pequot War, while it had broken the power of one
dreaded tribe, had not settled all the Indian troubles of New England.
Every now and then rumors of new dangers spread from settlement to
settlement. As in former years, a general massacre of white settlers
was feared. There was now a likelihood that such an attempt might
be more successful than before, for the Indians had been receiving
firearms from English traders.
The league was based, then, upon the principle that in union there
is strength. Two commissioners from each colony (both of whom must
be church members) were elected to meet once a year to discuss the
questions of war and peace that affected the general welfare of New
England. The Narragansett Bay settlements would have been glad to
send their representatives, too, but were not allowed to do so. At
first the New England federation claimed it was because Providence had
no charter. This could not have been the real reason, for when this
obstacle ceased to exist, the colony was still refused admission.
It is easy to see that it was thus placed in an extremely dangerous
position. It was isolated, could hope for no co-operation from its
neighbor colonies and was in constant dread of Indian outbreaks.
What were the little frozen-out settlements to do? In some way they
must make a place for themselves in this unfriendly New England, and
that speedily. They must, in some way, make their neighbors respect
them--yes, and keep their hands off of them. Their very existence was
imperiled.
There was only one course open. Acting on the same principle as their
more fortunate neighbors, they decided to unite and to make that
union firm and lasting by appealing to England for a charter. The man
best suited to undertake this delicate mission was, of course, Roger
Williams, and he was appointed to visit the mother-country for this
purpose.
At the time he sailed (June, 1643), the principal Narragansett
Bay settlements were Providence, those on the island of
Aquidneck--Portsmouth and Newport--and the infant settlement of
Warwick. During the seven years of its existence, Providence had
continued to stand boldly for religious freedom. Aquidneck, too, while
entirely separate from her sister colony, had been liberal from the
beginning, as is shown by her court record of 1641, “that liberty of
conscience in point of doctrine is perpetuated.”
Roger Williams would have preferred to engage passage from Boston,
but once more the Massachusetts authorities refused to let him enter
their territory. He therefore decided to embark from New Amsterdam.
Many persons in that Dutch settlement had reason to be thankful for
the happy providence that sent him their way. A fierce Indian uprising
was in progress, due largely to the ill-treatment of the savages
by the whites. Roger Williams’ fame must have gone before him, for
the settlers pleaded with him to save them. With his usual gracious
willingness, he became peace-maker and with his customary success.
Unhappily, many frightful tragedies had already occurred. Among these
was the murder of Mrs. Anne Hutchinson and members of her family who
had moved from Aquidneck to the Dutch colony.
The long, uncertain voyage that lay ahead of Roger Williams was most
unlike the rapid crossings made in our modern luxurious ocean steamers
that can calculate almost to an hour the length of the journey.
Heavy seas, storms, contrary winds all had to be taken into account.
Realizing the delay that might thus be caused, our traveler used his
leisure to put together the Indian “Key,” as we have seen.
It was a very different England which Roger Williams found in 1643 from
that which he had left thirteen years before. Then royalty and bishops
had been triumphant; now the king was a fugitive and the Star Chamber
a thing of the past. The country was passing through a dreadful civil
war. Parliament was fighting for its rights, long trampled upon, and it
was a question whether that body or the king would win out in the end.
The struggle was for both civil and religious freedom. Disturbed though
the kingdom was, it was the very best occasion for Roger Williams to
present his request. Parliament needed all the friends it could get on
both sides of the water. It therefore listened with attention to what
he had to say.
Without question Roger Williams numbered among his friends the most
powerful men of England at this time--Oliver Cromwell, Sir Henry Vane,
the former governor of the Massachusetts Bay Colony, and perhaps
Milton. They greeted the pioneer from over-seas with hearty welcome.
Their warm friendship must have meant much to the outcast from
Massachusetts. But his patient heart must have been filled with a
still greater joy when a commission appointed by Parliament granted
his colony the much-desired charter. Massachusetts’ cold disapproval
might continue, but the Narragansett settlements were on their feet at
last! They had a future. Their star, slow in rising, was now above the
horizon.
During his stay in London, Roger Williams attended to other matters
besides the procuring of the charter. Often his own personal concerns
were pushed aside for the sake of others. The poor of the city were
enduring great suffering due to a lack of coal, for the war had
interfered with mining. Wood was very expensive. Roger Williams made
it his business to do what he could to obtain fuel and so lessen the
distress around him.
In addition, he made use of every spare moment to write a great work
on toleration bearing the rather startling title of “The Bloody Tenent
of Persecution,” which was put together “in variety of strange houses,
sometimes in the fields, in the midst of travel.” It was in answer
to a letter of his old antagonist, John Cotton. Going back a step
further, this letter had been called forth by a pamphlet on persecution
composed by a prisoner of Newgate. Being denied writing materials, he
had substituted milk for ink, and for paper, had used the wrappings
of the milk bottles brought him. Such writings, he knew, would, upon
the application of heat, become legible. To “the arguments against
persecution _in milk_,” Roger Williams now wrote “the answer in blood.”
He was on familiar ground, and with clear logic, good sense and
strong English, he shaped his ideas on religious liberty. Such a book
had never before been published. Truth and Peace are represented as
discussing this all-important subject.
“In what dark corner of the world, sweet Peace,” begins Truth, “are
we two met? How hath the present evil world banished me from all the
coasts and quarters of it? And how hath the righteous God in judgment
taken thee from the earth?”
“’Tis lamentably true, blessed Truth,” answers Peace, “the foundations
of the world have long been out of course.... With what a wearied,
tired wing have I flown over nations, kingdoms, cities, towns, to find
out precious Truth.”
“The like inquiries,” says Truth, “in my flights and travels have I
made for Peace, and still am told she hath left the earth and fled to
Heaven.”
“Dear Truth,” then exclaims Peace, “what is the earth but a dungeon of
darkness where Truth is not?”
In less fanciful language, arguments are given to show that neither
laws nor civil magistrates should have authority over a man’s soul.
Roger Williams did not mean any disrespect to his old friend, John
Cotton, by thus openly taking opposite sides with him. This he
explained years afterwards in a courteous letter to Cotton’s son. He
was too tender-hearted to offend even his enemies. Besides, public
controversies were very popular in Roger Williams’ day.
The book was dedicated to Parliament, but, unfortunately, the House of
Commons was so far from comprehending and appreciating its worth, that
it rather childishly ordered that it be burnt. As if in such simple
fashion truth could be wiped from the earth!
The charter obtained by Roger Williams provided that “Providence
Plantations in the Narragansett Bay in New England” should be given
“full power and authority to rule themselves and such others as shall
hereafter inhabit within any part of the said tract of land, by such
a form of civil government as by voluntary consent of all, or the
greater part of them, they shall find most suitable to their estate and
condition, provided that the said laws, constitutions and punishments
for the civil government of the said plantations be conformable to the
laws of England, as far as the nature and constitution of the place
will admit.” It was a most liberal document, without a single word
about restricting liberty in religious matters.
The obtaining of this charter meant an outlay in actual money of one
hundred pounds, or five hundred dollars. Roger Williams had generously
disposed of some of his land in order to raise ready money to carry
through the project. This debt was not collected without considerable
trouble and delay. The colonists, having secured their object, did not
seem over-anxious to pay the bill.
The question suggests itself: How had Roger Williams been able to make
such a complete success of his mission in England? There were several
reasons--among them, the desire of Parliament to make and keep friends
in New England, as has been mentioned. But listen. In a letter sent
by Roger Williams from leading noblemen and members of Parliament to
Massachusetts, we find these words: “As also of his _great industry and
travels in his printed Indian labors_ in your parts (the like whereof
we have not seen extant from any part of America) and in which respect
it hath pleased both Houses of Parliament to grant unto him, and
friends with him, a free and absolute charter of civil government for
those parts of his abode.” The writers of the letter did not hesitate
to use very plain language in expressing their disapproval of the lack
of harmony and neighborliness that had marked the dealings between
Massachusetts and Roger Williams. The missive gained him the privilege
of landing in Boston on his return to America in the autumn of the year
1644. There is nothing to show, however, that the colony softened her
heart toward him.
The people of Providence, on the other hand, heard of the coming of
their leader and prepared for him a truly royal welcome. When he landed
on the banks of the Seekonk, where, not many years before, nobody had
taken any interest in his doings except possibly friendly Indians, now
he was met by a body of his townsmen who had turned out in fourteen
canoes to greet him. Happy in the safe return of their friend and
neighbor, and rejoiced to think he had come back with the precious
charter, they escorted him, with hearty expressions of joy, across the
river to the settlement he had founded.
CHAPTER IX
NARRAGANSETT DAYS
While Roger Williams was absent in England, an event occurred at home
which must have sorely grieved his kindly heart when he heard of
it. This was the death of his faithful friend and ally, the sachem
Miantonomo. Their friendship, as well as that between Roger Williams
and Miantonomo’s uncle, Canonicus, forms one of the most interesting
chapters in the life of our hero. Brave, dignified, upright, true,
Miantonomo could give many a church elder of his time a lesson in honor
and sincerity. He deserved a far better fate at their hands than he
received.
Ever since the Pequot War, there had been trouble between the Mohegans
and the Narragansetts. Uncas, the powerful sachem of the former tribe,
was Miantonomo’s deadly rival. When, therefore, war broke out between
him and an ally of Miantonomo, the Narragansett sachem took part in
the struggle. With a force of about a thousand men, which greatly
outnumbered the Connecticut Indians, he took Uncas completely by
surprise. Unhappily, Miantonomo was hindered by a heavy armor that
had been loaned him and this, together with the sudden fury of Uncas’
assault, cost him the day. He was taken captive to Hartford, after
proudly refusing to plead for his life.
When the commissioners of the United Colonies next met, his case was
put in their hands. What should be done with the silent, haughty
prisoner? Should he be condemned to death or receive a lighter
punishment or--best of all--be set free? Whatever Miantonomo’s faults,
he had always kept faith with his white allies and, remembering his
treaty at the time of the Pequot War, had even asked permission of
Massachusetts before attacking Uncas. The United Colonies hesitated. At
length they shifted the responsibility to certain prominent ministers
of the gospel. Surely they would be lenient. Without question they
would grant him life and freedom. _Death!_ With one voice they
pronounced the awful sentence.
It is not difficult to imagine the savage joy with which Uncas received
his hated foe back again. As Miantonomo was led forth from Hartford,
one of Uncas’ men stole up behind him and felled him to the ground
with a single blow of a hatchet. This heartless murder--for it can be
called nothing less--will always remain a dark blot on the history of
early New England. If only Roger Williams had been at home! No doubt
the gloomy sachem said it to himself more than once with childlike
yearning. To-day, nearly three hundred years after the tragedy, we echo
sadly, “If only Roger Williams had been at home!”
The Narragansetts did not soon overlook the cruel death of their
favorite chief. They meditated revenge--deep, thorough revenge. They
would have the head of Uncas, no matter what Massachusetts and the
other colonies might say. Such was the state of affairs when Roger
Williams returned from England. The Narragansetts actually commenced
hostilities against the Mohegans and threatened to carry the war
against the white colonists as well, except those of Providence and
Rhode Island, as the island of Aquidneck was now called.
Roger Williams lost no time in doing his utmost to quench “the flames
of war raging next door” to him. He sent word of the plans of the
Indians to a meeting of the commissioners of the United Colonies held
at Boston. In consequence of this, Massachusetts decided to take up
arms against the revengeful Narragansetts. Their sachem, Pessicus,
Miantonomo’s brother, then lost some of his former bravery. He, like
Massachusetts, depended upon Roger Williams to get him out of his
difficulties. He had the same unquestioning confidence in the friend
of his tribe as had Miantonomo before him. The result of the whole
business was that peace was arranged and the Narragansetts pledged
Massachusetts two thousand fathom of wampum. A treaty was concluded
which patched up the differences between the two Indian tribes and
perhaps prevented, for a second time, a widespread massacre of the
whites. The credit was entirely due to Roger Williams.
But to return to the personal affairs of the great peace-maker. We
must not suppose that all this time he was on the road to riches. At
no time in his career does he seem to have had an abundance of worldly
goods. He was obliged to work in the open, at hard manual labor, to
earn a living for himself and those dependent on him. Now, upon his
return from England, he found himself poorer than ever. His family
numbered six children and it was a big problem to clothe and feed them
properly. Their needs probably determined his next step--his removal
from Providence to Cawcawmquissick or Narragansett, some twenty miles
down the Bay, where he established a trading-post.
The location had its advantages. It was convenient for hunters and
accessible to Newport, at which port furs could be shipped to England
and needed supplies be received in return. Here, in the heart of the
Narragansett country, Roger Williams passed six busy years of his life,
his business yielding him one hundred pounds annually. He planted and
harvested his crops, continued to serve as mediator between the natives
and the colonists, and to take an active part in the affairs of the
colony.
He found at Narragansett a most congenial neighbor in the person of
Richard Smith, a prosperous trader and the owner of a large estate.
A fugitive from English persecution, he had resided for a time in
Plymouth territory, and then, for the sake of a still more liberal
atmosphere, moved to the Narragansett Bay region. His was the first
English house in that section, built a few years after the settlement
of Providence. Mrs. Smith was the soul of courtesy and hospitality and
the Williams family was fortunate in having her and her good husband
within neighborly distance.
That Roger Williams, too, was the best of neighbors, we have abundant
proof. No kindly service was too small for him to undertake if he
could thereby help those about him, whether English or Indian. Now he
busied himself trying to find the stray cattle of a friend, again he
gave his house over to Massachusetts soldiers who had come to collect
the wampum debt from the Narragansetts. The savages were continually
making excuses to Roger Williams for their delay in settling the heavy
account. Many of these were genuine enough, no doubt. He listened to
the grievances of both sides and, as usual, poured oil on the troubled
waters.
To the Narragansetts, he was friend, peace-maker, adviser, physician.
They served in his household, for the early records of the province
show that he was granted “leave to suffer a native, his hired household
servant, to kill fowl for him in his piece at Narragansett about his
house.” Their bodily ailments were ever a source of care and anxiety to
him. Though Providence Plantations was a temperate colony, yet Roger
Williams was allowed to administer “a little wine or strong water”
to the red men in their illnesses. “I might have gained thousands by
that trade,” he once said, “but God hath graciously given me rather to
choose a dry morsel.” When in need of greater medical skill than his
own, he wrote his friend, John Winthrop the younger, of Connecticut,
for medicine and a “drawing plaster,” adding generously, “if the charge
rise to one or two crowns, I shall thankfully send it.”
The lack of good physicians was still sorely felt in the colony. When
the second daughter of Roger Williams became ill, he again asked Mr.
Winthrop’s advice--this time, as to the best doctor in Massachusetts.
As late as 1660, however, Roger Williams resorted to simple
remedies--of necessity, very likely--instead of consulting a doctor.
When his son Joseph “was troubled with a spice of an epilepsy,” he
wrote, “We used some remedies, but it hath pleased God, by his taking
of tobacco, perfectly, as we hope, to cure him.”
Correspondence and neighborly interchange of courtesies were kept up
for years between the Williams family and that of John Winthrop, Jr.
The affection and kindliness of the former governor of Massachusetts
for his banished friend descended to his son. “Your loving lines in
this cold, dead season”--thus began one of Roger Williams’ letters
to him--“were as a cup of your Connecticut cider.” Once Mrs. Williams
sent Mrs. Winthrop a couple of papers of pins, as this simple necessity
appeared to be scarce in Connecticut. Her husband added the suggestion
that if Mrs. Winthrop herself did not need them, they might “pleasure a
neighbor.” Writing paper seemed to be as scarce in Providence as pins
were in Connecticut. One letter of Roger Williams was written on the
blank side of an envelope addressed to himself by Winthrop. He crossed
out his own name and wrote that of his correspondent in blacker ink.
The monotony and hard work of the Narragansett existence were enlivened
now and then by the loan of a book. In this way, Roger Williams kept in
touch with the latest thought in England. He eagerly read all volumes
that came his way bearing upon religious subjects, but at one time
he expressed an earnest desire for a geography. In turn, he supplied
his friends with books from his own limited library. We are sorry to
say they were not always returned promptly. Thus he sent urgent word
to Connecticut for Winthrop to recover one of these books which an
Englishman of Long Island had borrowed.
During Roger Williams’ residence at Narragansett, the aged chieftain
Canonicus died. Honorable and just in his dealings with the colonists,
always more inclined toward peace than war, he stands out in history as
one of the wisest and best of New England Indians. He picked out Roger
Williams as the object of his special favor. Despite extreme age, he
had laid out the grounds of his neighbor’s trading-house with his own
hands. The two men had the deepest respect and love for each other.
Nearing his end, the Narragansett chieftain sent for Roger Williams.
He had a dying request to make--that he might be buried in the “cloth
of free gift” that was one of many tokens of friendship from his great
white friend. “So he was,” recorded Roger Williams simply. Thus the
“prudent and peaceable prince” was laid to rest with his fathers.
One other event marked Roger Williams’ sojourn at Narragansett. A day
came when exciting news spread like wildfire throughout the colony.
Gold had been found--rich, precious gold--yes, and silver, too--on
the island of Rhode Island. So the word went round. What a future for
the poor, struggling little colony! Roger Williams, with the others,
believed that a mine of wealth was in their midst and wrote in one of
his letters that the ore had been tested and found genuine. The arms
of England and of the Lord High Admiral were posted over the mine and
nobody allowed to take possession. Unfortunately, the golden dream
soon changed to drab reality. A more careful test showed that what was
believed to be gold was not gold at all. The disappointed dreamers,
sadder but wiser, returned to their plows to earn a living out of the
soil in the old humdrum but dependable way.
What about Roger Williams’ charter money all this time? The colony had
voted him the hundred pounds to pay the expenses of his trip across the
water, but he had not yet collected it all. After patiently waiting
several years, he gently hinted that Providence pay her share in goats!
“I have here (through God’s providence) convenience of improving
some goats; my request is, therefore, that if it may be without much
trouble, you would be pleased to order the payment of it in cattle of
that kind.”
Let us hope that the “cattle” duly reached Narragansett.
CHAPTER X
THE CHARTER ON TRIAL
Meanwhile, what of the charter itself which Roger Williams had gained
at the expense of so much time and trouble? Had it succeeded in uniting
the struggling settlements? Were they now a harmonious, happy family?
Alas! No such miracle had occurred. In fact, two years and a half
passed before any kind of union was brought about.
[Illustration:
Canonicus Bridge, Roger Williams Park, Providence, appropriately named
after the Narragansett sachem who was the steadfast friend of Roger
Williams.]
[Illustration:
The Betsy Williams Cottage, Roger Williams Park, Providence. It is an
old-fashioned red dwelling, well covered with vines in summer, not
far from the statue of Roger Williams. The cottage is appropriately
furnished with Colonial relics.]
Finally, in May, 1647, representatives from the different towns met at
Portsmouth. The larger part of the colony, however, was present at this
first General Assembly. Those persons from the mainland who attended
paddled to their destination in canoes. In those days the water trip
from Providence to Portsmouth was looked upon as quite an undertaking,
though to-day a steamer could easily make the same journey in less than
two hours. The delegates from Providence, including Roger Williams
and his brother Robert, were bidden Godspeed by the town in words as
gravely serious as might be used had the intended voyage been across
the ocean:
“We commit you unto the protection and direction of the Almighty,
wishing you a comfortable voyage, a happy success, and a safe return
unto us again.”
At this first representative meeting of the colony, a simple form of
government was decided upon. It was agreed that the affairs of the
province should be managed by a president, four assistants and six
commissioners from each town, or twenty-four in all. Roger Williams
was not chosen first president, as we might suppose, but this may have
been because he declined the honor. Surely the good and faithful man
deserved a rest. He did, however, serve twice as an assistant and once
as deputy-president under the first charter.
The colonial body declared itself in favor of “a democratical form of
government”--a truly startling novelty for the seventeenth century.
Then a clear, simple code of laws was drawn up, far milder and more
just than any then in existence. They provided that while burglary
and theft were punishable crimes, still the penalty should not be too
extreme for poor persons who stole because of hunger. Debtors having
no goods or lands with which to settle their bills were not to be sent
to prison “to lie languishing to no man’s advantage.” The destitute
and infirm were to be provided for in all the towns. No person was to
be required to take an out-and-out oath, his solemn word or testimony
being considered just as binding. The laws concluded thus quaintly:
“And otherwise than thus what is herein forbidden, all men may walk as
their consciences persuade them, every one in the name of his God. And
let the saints of the Most High walk in this colony without molestation
in the name of Jehovah, their God, forever and ever.”
Just how primitive was the life of these early settlers is shown in
that section of the laws touching upon archery. It also gives a glimpse
of the constant danger which surrounded the pioneers of Providence
Plantations.
“Forasmuch, as we are cast among the archers, and know not how soon
we may be deprived of powder and shot, without which our guns will
advantage us nothing; to the end also that we may come to outshoot
these natives in their own bow; Be it enacted by the authority of this
present Assembly, that that statute touching archery shall be revived
and propagated throughout the whole colony; and that every person from
the age of seventeen years to the age of seventy, that is not lame,
debilitated in his body, or otherwise exempted by the colony, shall
have a bow and four arrows, and shall use and exercise shooting; and
every father having children shall provide for every man-child from
the age of seven years, till he come to seventeen years, a bow and two
arrows or shafts to induce them and to bring them up to shooting; and
every son, servant, or master, thus appointed and ordered to have a bow
and arrows, that shall be remiss and negligent in the observance hereof
and shall be found to lack a bow and so many arrows for the space of
a month together after the last of the fourth month, commonly called
June, shall forfeit three shillings and four pence; the father shall
pay for the son, the master for the servant, and deduct it out of his
wages.”
At this first assembly, an anchor (to which later was added the motto
“Hope”) was chosen as the seal of the province. Appropriate emblem,
indeed! Many a storm would the infant colony be called upon to battle
with before being grounded firmly in good government. Never before had
a group of people greater need of hope and courage than those who were
trying out their “lively experiment.”
A law was passed, too, forbidding the sale of firearms to the Indians
under penalty of a heavy fine.
Several years passed and still Providence Plantations failed to become
the settled, united colony of Roger Williams’ hopes and dreams. It was
a union in name only. As for the position of the founder himself, it
was as if he were the head of an unruly school. The four disturbing
classes, instead of acting together for the good of the school, were
more intent on their own little concerns and differences. The people
of Providence quarreled among themselves, while Providence, Newport,
Portsmouth and Warwick quarreled with one another.
It is true that certain inhabitants of Providence made an agreement
that for the common good they would forget their jealousies and
bickerings, but, unhappily, the very persons who signed the paper were
the ones who had no need of such a pledge to begin with. The liberal,
brotherly spirit of Roger Williams was plainly evident in their
determination to let “love cover their differences in the grave of
oblivion.”
At last matters reached a crisis. William Coddington planned to detach
the island of Rhode Island and the neighboring island of Conanicut from
the rest of the colony and sailed for England early in 1649 to obtain
a separate charter. And this even though he had been honored by being
elected president of the province and owed his position in the colony
largely to Roger Williams’ kindness and helpfulness.
It looked very much as if Roger Williams’ work would have to be done
all over again, especially as Coddington returned in two years with the
new charter which made him governor of the two islands in the Bay for
life. Besides, the neighboring colonies still had a covetous eye on
their sister colony of whom they had always disapproved. Massachusetts
still claimed Pawtuxet, Plymouth declared she owned the Island of Rhode
Island, while poor Warwick had been tossed back and forth between the
two very much like a baseball.
Finally, Providence and Warwick had the good sense to unite and ask
Roger Williams to go to England a second time to have the original
charter confirmed. Portsmouth and Newport, with equally good sense,
urged John Clarke, the good minister-physician of the latter town,
likewise to appeal to the mother country to have the Coddington charter
annulled.
Roger Williams had to be urged twice to undertake the task. The care
of his sizable family and lack of money probably had much to do with
his first refusal. At length, however, he came to the conclusion that
his duty to his fellow-colonists was of more importance than his own
private affairs. The two towns promised to defray the expenses of the
trip and to make up whatever was still owing for the former voyage.
Even so, Roger Williams sold his trading-post at Narragansett in order
to finance the venture. He found a purchaser in his neighbor, Richard
Smith, who paid him fifty pounds in ready money for it. There is no
indication that, on the part of the seller, this was an attempt to
drive a sharp bargain--far from it. The business must have been worth
far more than Roger Williams realized on it, even though it was a cash
transaction.
There was one thing more to be done--to “humbly pray Massachusetts
that he might inoffensively and without molestation pass through her
jurisdiction as a stranger for a night.” The request was grudgingly
granted and, in company with the Reverend John Clarke, Roger Williams
for the second time set his face toward England, in November, 1651.
CHAPTER XI
THE SECOND MISSION
After Roger Williams left for London, the towns of Portsmouth and
Newport submitted to the rule of Coddington, while Providence and
Warwick united and continued under the old charter. They held their
regular assemblies as usual, passed laws, and acted, in general, as if
there were no split at all.
Many of their proceedings are of little interest to-day, but one stands
out from the rest and deserves more than passing notice. The law
restricting slavery, under date of May 18, 1652, was one of the very
first of its kind, not alone in New England, but in the whole world.
The purchase of negroes was “a common course practiced among Englishmen
to that end they may have them for service or slaves forever” and white
men were also held in similar bondage. Now while the idea of universal
freedom was far from the thoughts of mankind in Roger Williams’ day,
the step taken by his little colony was a big stride in the right
direction. It provided that no “black mankind or white” should be made
to serve for a longer period than ten years. “And that man that will
not let them go free,” the decree went on, “or shall sell them away
elsewhere, to that end that they may be enslaved to others for a long
time, he or they shall forfeit to the colony forty pounds.”
Though Roger Williams was hundreds of miles from home at the time this
slavery act was passed, it clearly shows his influence. He was always
the friend of the oppressed and downtrodden. It is not likely that many
offenders were found after the law became a fact. Two hundred dollars
meant too heavy a fine for the poor colonist of that day to pay.
The England of Roger Williams’ second visit was as disturbed as the
England of his first trip. King Charles had paid a heavy price for
his tyrannical injustice--the loss of his head--and the real ruler
of the country was Oliver Cromwell. Backed by his well-disciplined,
well-trained, invincible army, he had swept everything before him.
During Roger Williams’ stay, he usurped even more power and was made
the Lord Protector of the Commonwealth of England. It was well for
Providence Plantations that it had so influential a friend at court.
Cromwell was very gracious to the colony’s representative, frequently
having long talks with Roger Williams and asking many questions about
the Narragansett province across the sea. The Indians of that section
interested him especially. Roger Williams needed no urging to impart
all the information he could on this topic so near his heart. Yet not
even Cromwell’s friendship secured a speedy settlement of the charter
trouble.
The question was referred to the Council of State. Meanwhile, Roger
Williams kept his colony informed from time to time as to the
results of his labors. First, he wrote that the Council had given
him encouragement and had decided that the charter was binding until
further orders were issued. Next, he was able to send the welcome news
that the Coddington charter was annulled and that the towns were to
unite as formerly. As we shall see, this was more easily said than done.
Though much had been gained, the final settlement was not yet reached.
While waiting, Roger Williams had his hands full seeing to it that his
struggling province across the water was not cheated out of its rights.
For one thing, war broke out between the Dutch and English. Naturally,
this national struggle caused less important affairs to be pushed
aside for the time being. Then the friends of the charter had to fight
opposition among persons of high position and influence. So the matter
dragged on.
In one of his letters describing these drawbacks, Roger Williams did
not forget to send his love to his Indian friends. The correspondence
was not all one-sided. The people of Providence, in turn, kept Roger
Williams in touch with affairs at home. Though they did not always
appreciate the great, whole-souled man while he lived quietly among
them, whenever they were left to their own devices, they awoke to some
realization of his worth. They passed their troubles on to him and
asked his advice, as if the poor man had not already enough burdens of
his own to carry! They did not stop here. They wrote an earnest letter
asking him to accept the governorship of the colony for a year in case
the charter should be confirmed.
A more ambitious man would eagerly have grasped the opportunity thus
offered. He would have seen in it the possibility of power, influence,
perhaps riches. Not so Roger Williams. In his own humble, modest way,
he was content to go on as before, sacrificing his own interests for
those of the colony, whether repaid for his efforts or not.
Cromwell was not the only prominent man in England with whom Roger
Williams was on intimate terms. He renewed his friendship with Sir
Henry Vane and was a frequent visitor at his house--either in his
lodgings at Whitehall or at his beautiful country estate Belleau in
Lincolnshire. This tried and true friend, having lived in both old and
New England, could understand and sympathize with Roger Williams as
perhaps nobody else could. He was not only his personal friend, but
a friend of the Providence colony as well. “The sheet anchor of our
ship,” wrote Roger Williams, “is Sir Henry, who will do as the eye of
God leads him.”
John Milton was another brilliant man with whom Roger Williams
associated during this period. He was the secretary of the Council of
State and later became world-famous as the author of “Paradise Lost.”
The condition of the great man at this time was pitiable. He was fast
growing blind. He said of his affliction in after years:
“...., My light is spent
Ere half my days in this dark world and wide,
And that one talent which is death to hide,
Lodged with me useless....”
He and Roger Williams exchanged languages, Roger Williams reading to
him in Dutch and receiving in return instruction in other languages.
Roger Williams’ familiarity with other tongues than his own was truly
remarkable. We have seen how he had studied and conquered the Indian
dialects. Now during his stay in the mother country, he practiced
Hebrew, Greek, Latin, French and Dutch.
The study of languages, however, was not all that occupied Roger
Williams during the two years and a half that he awaited the triumph of
his charter. He wrote several books and pamphlets that represent some
of the best literary work of his life. It will be remembered that when
in England before, he had published a book called “The Bloody Tenent
of Persecution,” in which he voiced his views on toleration. This
was later answered by John Cotton, who, borrowing a portion of Roger
Williams’ title, added to it and called his work “The Bloody Tenent
Washed and Made White in the Blood of the Lamb.” Roger Williams could
not let the matter rest here--he was too ardent an apostle of liberty
of conscience.
So now he took the opportunity to get ready for publication a reply to
his antagonist, this time under the overwhelming heading of “The Bloody
Tenent Yet More Bloody by Mr. Cotton’s Endeavor to Wash it White
in the Blood of the Lamb.” If the controversy had been carried any
further, who knows what cumbersome and unwieldy titles might not have
been inflicted upon the reading public! Roger Williams, in referring to
the above book in its relation to Mr. Cotton’s arguments, said it had
“unwashed his washings.”
England at this period was divided on the question of toleration. There
were those who favored only partial religious liberty, others who took
the stand that Roger Williams had supported all these years--absolute
soul liberty without interference from the civil power. These
broad-minded men argued that the Jews, who had been persecuted time and
again by the rulers of England and had been excluded from the land for
several hundred years, should be allowed to live freely and peaceably
in the forbidden country.
Here was a chance for Roger Williams to strike another blow at
oppression. The despised race could have had no better champion.
Writing in their behalf, he said:
“I humbly conceive it to be the duty of the civil magistrate to break
down that superstitious wall of separation (as to civil things) between
us Gentiles and the Jews, and freely (without their asking) to make way
for their free and peaceable habitation amongst us.
“As other nations, so this especially, and the kings thereof, have had
just cause to fear that the un-Christian oppressions, incivilities
and inhumanities of this nation against the Jews have cried to Heaven
against this nation and the kings and princes of it.
“For the removing of which guilt, and the pacifying of the wrath of the
Most High against this nation, and for the furthering of that great end
of propagating the Gospel of Christ Jesus; It is humbly conceived to
be a great and weighty duty which is upon this state, to provide (on
the Jews’ account) some gracious expedients for such holy and truly
Christian ends.”
It may be that this stand taken by Roger Williams influenced Cromwell
in his later treatment of the oppressed people. Without openly
welcoming them back into England, he did, as one writer has put it,
allow them to enter by the back door.
Poverty was still a heavy handicap to Roger Williams. To raise needed
funds, he was not ashamed to turn to any kind of employment so long
as it was honorable. Thus we read of his giving language lessons to
the sons of a member of Parliament. As to his methods, they were
both reasonable and interesting. There was no forcing of dry old
set formulas upon his pupils to be learned by heart. Instead, he
substituted what would be called to-day the “natural method”--that is,
he taught those words and phrases in most common use by means of easy
conversations. Happy students, to have a teacher who thought grammar
rules a “tyranny”! So well did these lessons succeed that after Roger
Williams returned to America, he taught his own three boys in the same
way.
Once more the poor of London were his debtors. His own wants were never
of so much importance as those of his neighbors. As on the previous
visit, he helped supply the needy with fuel.
One episode of Roger Williams’ stay in London was amusing, yet pathetic
as well. All the years he had spent in New England he had not forgotten
the kind friend of his youth, Sir Edward Coke. It therefore occurred to
him, now that he was in his native land once more, to make inquiries
after the daughter of the famous judge, Mrs. Anne Sadlier. He did so in
a courteous letter, at the same time sending her one of his discourses
that had recently been printed. The good lady had the rudeness to
return it, saying that she read little beyond a few standard religious
works. That she looked upon her father’s former protegé as a dangerous
advanced thinker is shown by her saying bluntly that she believed his
“new lights would prove but dark lanterns.” In reply, Roger Williams
referred her to the volumes covering his late controversy with John
Cotton. Shocked beyond measure at the mere title “Bloody Tenent,”
Mrs. Sadlier did not attempt to read further and tartly told her
correspondent not to trouble her again. With more persistence than
wisdom, Roger Williams did write still once more. Mrs. Sadlier was
thoroughly roused by the sermon-like epistle he sent and in anything
but lady-like language, told the writer he had a “face of brass.” Poor
Roger Williams was silenced at last.
With this spirited correspondence Mrs. Sadlier left the following
memorandum: “Full little did he (Sir Edward Coke) think that he (Roger
Williams) would have proved such a rebel to God, the king and his
country. I leave his letters, that, if ever he has the face to return
into his native country, Tyburn may give him welcome.”
In spite of his busy days and the importance of the errand which was
keeping him in England, Roger Williams was very homesick at times. He
yearned to see the faces of his sons and daughters. He longed, too, for
his gentle wife--his “dear yoke-fellow”--and even proposed her joining
him over-seas in several of his letters. One of the pamphlets he
published while abroad (the one that Mrs. Sadlier rejected) was in the
form of a letter addressed to Mrs. Williams. It had been written some
time before on the occasion of her recovery from a dangerous illness
while he was absent from home working among the Indians. Though there
is more of the sermon than love-letter about it, still we find these
exquisite lines:
“My dear love, since it pleaseth the Lord so to dispose of me, and of
my affairs at present, that I cannot often see thee, I desire often to
send to thee.... I send thee (though in winter) an handful of flowers
made up in a little posy, for thy dear self and our dear children, to
look and smell on.”
Rather flowery language, perhaps, to apply to a religious tract, yet it
affords a satisfying glimpse of deep husbandly and fatherly affection.
Roger Williams finally made up his mind to return to New England,
though the charter matter was not yet closed. It was not alone thoughts
of his own immediate family that induced him to make this decision.
His larger family--his unruly, quarrelsome colonial family--needed
him quite as badly. He therefore left the interests of Providence
Plantations in the hands of Mr. Clarke and turned homeward. The
English government granted him a safe passage through Massachusetts
and, early in the summer of 1654, he landed in Boston.
CHAPTER XII
ROGER WILLIAMS AS COLONIAL PRESIDENT
What the people of Providence Plantations needed and deserved was a
good round scolding. They received it in the form of a sharp letter
addressed to the colony by Sir Henry Vane and entrusted to Roger
Williams. He wrote:
“How is it that there are such divisions amongst you? Such headiness,
tumults, disorders, injustice? The noise echoes into the ears of
all, as well friends as enemies, by every return of ships from those
parts.... Are there no wise men amongst you? No public self-denying
spirits, that at least, upon the grounds of public safety, equity and
prudence, can find out some way or means of union and reconciliation
for you amongst yourselves, before you become a prey to common enemies,
especially since this state, by the last letter from the Council of
State, give you your freedom, as supposing a better use would have
been made of it than there hath been? Surely, when kind and simple
remedies are applied and are ineffectual, it speaks loud and broadly
the high and dangerous distempers of such a body, as if the wounds were
incurable.”
Then, calling upon their higher nature, he concluded by saying kindly,
“But I hope better things from you.”
Roger Williams, too, penned a strong letter on the subject. He was
weary at heart because of the constant dissensions around him. Now he
gently reminded his friends and neighbors of Providence that “Only by
pride cometh contention,” and “Love covereth a multitude of sins,” but
at the same time he did not hesitate to rehearse the trials he had been
through for their good. In plain, direct language, he said that for
being their “stepping-stone,” he had received nothing but grief, sorrow
and bitterness. Only a hard-hearted people could have withstood such
pathetic words as these:
“It hath been told me that I labored for a licentious and contentious
people; that I have foolishly parted with town and colony advantages,
by which I might have preserved both town and colony in as good order
as any in the country about us.... I was unfortunately fetched and
drawn from my employment, and sent to so vast distance from my family,
to do your work of a high and costly nature, for so many days and
weeks and months together, and there left to starve, or steal, or beg
or borrow. But blessed be God, who gave me favor to borrow one while,
and to work another, and thereby to pay your debts there, and to come
over with your credit and honor, as an agent from you, who had, in your
name, grappled with the agents and friends of all your enemies round
about you.”
For once, Providence Plantations had the grace to be ashamed of itself.
For a while, at least, it was on its good behavior. The citizens of
Providence appointed Roger Williams to send a reply to Sir Henry Vane,
their friendly critic across the water. In this letter, they freely
acknowledged their shortcomings, but with this excuse:
“Possibly a sweet cup hath rendered many of us wanton and too active,
for we have long drunk of the cup of as great liberties as any people
that we can hear of under the whole heaven.”
Forgetting their jealousies and differences, the four towns united and
established the government on the old basis. There was peace for the
time being, due largely to the fact that on September 12, 1654, Roger
Williams was elected president of the colony and continued to serve
in that capacity for two and a half years. He would far rather have
preferred to remain a private citizen, but was overcome by the wishes
of others. Once again he was guided by the watchword “Service.”
The first problem with which Roger Williams had to grapple concerned
the Indians. The Narragansetts and the natives of Long Island were at
war, and the Commissioners of the United Colonies had tried in vain to
subdue the former. They sent an armed force against the Narragansetts,
which, however, was unsuccessful. They might have pushed the matter
further had it not been for Roger Williams’ action at this crisis. He
sent a letter to Massachusetts calling the attention of that colony to
the following facts: that their families had been allowed to grow up
in peace among the Indians; that the conversion of the savages was not
possible so long as unnecessary and cruel wars were waged against them;
that even so-called successful wars usually resulted in fearful losses
as well as gains.
He did not neglect to put in a good word for his friends, the
Narragansetts, who, he said, had never stained their hands with English
blood. Through all their territory, he added, Englishmen had frequently
traveled alone in perfect safety.
Whether or not Massachusetts was moved by this appeal, she certainly
acted as Roger Williams hoped she would. She passed the word round that
hostilities would be dropped. Thus again the prevention of an Indian
massacre was probably due to the efforts of the great peace-maker.
One of the laws passed during Roger Williams’ term of office concerned
the sale of strong drink to the Indians. Though laws had been passed
before covering this point, they had not been enforced. Now the new
statute provided that two “ordinary keepers” in each town should be
the only persons authorized to sell liquor or wine to the natives and
that the amount should be limited to a quarter of a pint a day. In case
the inn-keeper allowed any Indian customers to become intoxicated, he
was liable to be fined twenty shillings for each person found in such
a condition. This regulation, while not all that could be desired,
doubtless reduced the drink evil greatly and so increased the safety of
the colonists.
In spite of the good intentions of Providence Plantations, Roger
Williams’ path continued to be a thorny one. Stubborn and quarrelsome
individuals caused him no end of trouble by refusing to obey the
existing form of government. The principles for which their leader had
worked and sacrificed were altogether too big for them to comprehend.
His parable of the ship meant nothing to them. They misunderstood
liberty of conscience to mean license to do whatever they pleased.
Now it is true that Roger Williams had maintained from the first that
religious liberty should be enjoyed without interference from the
government. He had never preached, however, that the government had no
business to put a stop to disturbances if they threatened the general
welfare of the colony. In short, any community must protect the rights
of its members if it would continue to exist.
Rumors of the above difficulties reached the ears of Oliver Cromwell.
Too occupied with important affairs in old England to trouble himself
with the bickerings of a small group of people in New England, he
yet took time to write a brief note to the colony. He charged the
inhabitants to preserve peace and safety and to avoid dishonor to the
Commonwealth and themselves through differences at home or invasions
from outside.
This order from the Lord Protector was the very weapon needed by Roger
Williams and others who were working for good government. It placed a
wholesome restraint upon several turbulent spirits and allowed those in
authority to enforce their just demands. The most troublesome rebel,
however, could not be kept in subjection very long. He was William
Harris, to whom a legal dispute was as the very air he breathed. For
many years he was Roger Williams’ thorn in the flesh until that usually
mild and forgiving individual had him arrested on a charge of treason
for his persistent opposition to the government.
William Coddington, who, perhaps more than any other person, had
been to blame for the discord that distressed Roger Williams, now
came forward and promised obedience. Much as we disapprove of his
disloyalty, we cannot help admiring his simple and dignified behavior
as he publicly professed his allegiance:
“I, William Coddington, do freely submit to the authority of his
Highness in this colony as it is now united, and that with all my
heart.”
During Roger Williams’ presidency, Warwick and Pawtuxet continued to be
a source of vexation. Certain inhabitants of those settlements still
rebelled against their proper authorities, claiming that they owed
allegiance to Massachusetts alone. Even the Indians used the name of
the Bay Colony to cover acts of lawlessness. Roger Williams protested
in writing to Massachusetts against her encouragement of such a state
of affairs. Not receiving a satisfactory answer to his first letter, he
wrote a second time.
One matter which he discussed in this correspondence--the question
of defence against possible Indian outbreaks--was as vital as
land disputes. It was necessary that his colony secure a supply
of ammunition. Twice he asked Massachusetts for the privilege of
purchasing it from her, but she flatly refused to sell it. Her action
was both unneighborly and unjust.
The condition of Providence Plantations at this time was extremely
dangerous. As an exposed frontier colony, unshielded from the Indians
about her, her risk of attacks by them was always greater than that of
her more protected sister colonies. Though the natives, as a general
thing, had a wholesome respect for Roger Williams, yet it was not
safe to trust the best of them. Canonicus and Miantonomo were both
dead. There was no knowing to what lengths their tribe might go when
equipped with firearms and strong drink. There was no doubt that
they had been so supplied by unscrupulous Dutchmen and the very same
Englishmen who had refused to sell to the colonists. Roger Williams’
indignant words showed clearly what he thought of such practices:
“For myself ... I have refused the gain of thousands by such a
murderous trade, and think no law yet extant ... secure enough against
such villainy.”
In addition to the possibility of Indian attacks, there was also a
chance that the colony might go to war with the neighboring Dutch
province. Such an outbreak would indeed be a calamity, as many supplies
came by way of New Amsterdam; still, as England and Holland were at
war, hostilities might easily extend to America.
Now Roger Williams and his colony were firm believers in preparedness.
Not being able to keep ammunition and liquor entirely out of reach of
the natives, they resolved upon the next best thing--to meet the danger
by having the colony ready to defend itself should occasion arise. In
such a course alone lay safety. Instead of waiting until actual attacks
were begun, it was wise to take time by the forelock and prepare
beforehand.
A beginning had already been made along this line years before. “Train
bands” were organized early in the history of the colony for military
drill, and in 1650 the towns were required by law to have their guns in
good condition and to keep a magazine of arms and ammunition. Newport’s
apportionment was the greatest of all, as she was the largest and most
flourishing of the settlements. Yet even her means of defence was
pitifully small--three barrels of powder, one thousand pounds of lead,
twelve pikes and twenty-four muskets.
Another measure of defence was now proposed--the erection of a fort at
Stampers’ Hill, in Providence. The story of the naming of this spot is
too curious to be passed by. One of the Rhode Island historians tells
the story thus:
“Soon after the settlement of Providence, a body of Indians approached
the town in a hostile manner. Some of the townsmen, by running and
stamping on this hill, induced them to believe that there was a
large number of men stationed there to oppose them, upon which they
relinquished their design and retired. From this circumstance the hill
was always called Stampers’ Hill, or more generally, the Stampers.”
A street of this name is still to be found on the map of Providence.
The same year that the fort was discussed, a consignment of powder and
shot was received by the colony from John Clarke in England. It was
placed in the hands of Roger Williams and distributed by him so that
each town received one barrel of powder and two barrels of shot each.
It was ordered by the General Assembly that money be raised to pay
for it to the sum of “ten pound in good and well-sorted strung peage
(wampum), after the rate of eight white per penny, and four black per
penny, from each town.” Clarke’s assignment was inadequate enough for
the needy colony, still it was something.
Happily, the worst of the threatened troubles did not materialize.
As a result of Roger Williams’ second letter to Massachusetts, John
Endicott, then governor, invited his old friend to Boston. Roger
Williams accepted the invitation and his trip did much to lessen
friction between the two colonies. A curious record shows that stormy
little Warwick did her part to make the president’s mission a success.
She voted forty shillings out of her treasury, provided a horse for
the journey, and also a pair of “Indian breeches” for Roger Williams’
Indian.
The Dutch war cloud failed to burst. Peace was declared between the
warring nations across the water before New Netherland and Providence
Plantations came to blows.
The fear of the Indians, too, gradually lessened. The matter of
fortifications was apparently dropped and neither during Roger
Williams’ term of office nor for many years afterwards did the
Narragansetts spoil their record by shedding the blood of their white
neighbors. We like to think that the colony’s best safeguard at this
time was its president--a better defence than firearms and forts, one
that stood for justice and harmony.
CHAPTER XIII
THE COMING OF THE QUAKERS
In the year 1656, Boston was in a fever of excitement. Some Quakers had
come to town.
The sect had first put in an appearance in England under the teachings
of one George Fox, an earnest, conscientious preacher who, at the
early age of nineteen, had felt called upon to give up everything for
religion. How his disciples came to receive their curious name is not
positively known. One theory is that they were so-called because they
were given to excitable, nervous tremblings, but the Quakers themselves
have claimed a different origin. According to them, at one time when
Mr. Fox was arrested and sent to prison in England, he called upon
those around him to tremble at the word of the Lord. Thereupon the
magistrate who pronounced the sentence bestowed the term “Quakers” upon
his followers. In any case, it was a nickname, a term of contempt in
the seventeenth century, and did not then, as later, carry with it
respect and honor.
But why should Massachusetts be alarmed at the coming of this people?
Did she object to their habit of using “thee” and “thou” in ordinary
speech? Did she consider that, by keeping their heads covered even in
the presence of the authorities, they were lacking in proper respect?
Or was it that their refusal to take up arms even in a just war was
a dangerous doctrine? The Bay Colony doubtless disapproved of all
these things. But there were other reasons--and stronger ones--why she
frowned upon the newcomers.
First, the Quakers professed to be guided by an “inner light.” Whatever
it directed them to do, or they thought it directed them to do, that
they did, regardless of consequences. It was their sole authority,
higher even than the commands of the Massachusetts magistrates and
elders. The colony decided to put an end to such unheard-of thinking
at once. They were all the more resolved to do this because of the
peculiar actions of the Quakers. A few misguided ones, professing to
be led by this same “inner light,” did the most extravagant things in
their zeal to spread their faith. They used rude, harsh language, they
went about half-naked, were disorderly in the streets, and in other
ways tried to attract attention. One Quaker even created a disturbance
in a meeting-house in Boston. Entering with two bottles in his hands,
he crashed them before the assembled congregation, crying, “Thus will
the Lord break you in pieces!” In these frenzied disciples of Fox
there was almost no resemblance to the quiet, respectable, inoffensive
Friends of to-day.
If such outbreaks had occurred in other parts of New England, the
offenders would have been punished--yes, even in the liberal colony
planted by Roger Williams. For being annoyed, Massachusetts cannot be
blamed. For resorting to the extreme measures she did in dealing with
the followers of Fox, the Bay Colony had no excuse. It is one of the
dark blots on her history.
The very year the Quakers appeared, a severe law was put into effect
against them. It provided that all ship-masters bringing Quakers into
the colony should be fined one hundred pounds and should give security
to carry them back whence they came, that all persons of this belief
should be committed to the House of Correction, first whipped and then
kept hard at work until transported. In addition, a fine of five pounds
was imposed for every Quaker book or writing found in the colony. The
penalty for defending Quaker opinions was forty shillings for the first
offence, four pounds for the second, and banishment for the third.
Calmly, unresistingly, the persecuted ones paid their fines, served
their prison terms, allowed themselves to be banished, and--kept
on doing the same things over and over again! Massachusetts did
not realize in the least that she was using the very best means of
encouraging the faith that she wished to stamp out. The Quakers
_wanted_ to be martyrs. They gloried in suffering and abuse. The more
they were downtrodden, the more they increased and prospered.
Now we come to the part played by the little colony of Providence
Plantations in the controversy. Roger Williams was still president when
the severities of Massachusetts began. When banished from that colony,
the Quakers had to seek a new home, of course. What more convenient
or attractive refuge than that of Narragansett Bay, where liberty
of worship was not considered a crime? So they flocked thither in
increasing numbers.
Roger Williams’ great principle, upon which the colony was founded, was
now put to a severe test, the most severe it had ever known. Hitherto,
all pilgrims of whatever creed, or no creed at all, had been made
heartily welcome. But would a like invitation be extended this strange,
peculiar people, who were in disgrace everywhere else? The answer came
boldly, courageously--_yes_.
The United Colonies decided it was their duty to show their liberal
sister colony the error of her ways. The commissioners, therefore,
informed her that as they considered they could not be too careful in
preserving themselves from such a pest as “Quakers, ranters, and such
notorious heretics,” they would ask that all persons of the despised
sect be removed from the Colony of Providence Plantations and in the
future be prohibited from entering it.
The reply to this command was exactly what might be expected. Roger
Williams’ term of office had expired, but his spirit was still in the
air. In two letters the brave little colony placed herself on record as
to the stand she took in regard to the unpopular Quakers.
“As concerning these Quakers which are now among us,” the first letter
went on, “we have no law among us whereby to punish for only declaring
by words, etc., their minds and understandings concerning the things
and ways of God, as to salvation and an eternal condition.”
One shrewd bit of advice was also given, which the other colony
might well have heeded. Providence Plantations pointed out that if
no attention was paid the Quakers, they would quickly cease to be
troublesome.
“And we moreover find,” the writers explained, “that in those places
where these people aforesaid in this colony are most of all suffered
to declare themselves freely and are only opposed by arguments in
discourse, there they least of all desire to come, and we are informed
that they begin to loathe this place, for that they are not opposed by
the civil authority, but with all patience and meekness are suffered
to say over their pretended revelations and admonitions, nor are they
like or able to gain many here to their way; surely we find that
they delight to be persecuted by civil powers, and when they are so,
they are like to gain more adherents by the conceit of their patient
sufferings than by consent to their pernicious sayings.”
In the second letter penned by Providence Plantations, the colony
reminded the commissioners that she still prized “freedom of different
consciences as the greatest happiness that men can possess in this
world.” If the Quakers disturbed the civil peace, then, and then only,
would interference be justified. In that case, the matter would be
referred to England and the offenders be sent thither.
[Illustration: Statue of Roger Williams, Roger Williams Park,
Providence]
The United Colonies then replied, hinting that Providence Plantations
would be cut off from all trade if disobedience was persisted in. After
this threatened boycott, the colonists concluded it was wise to take
some steps for protecting themselves, but recede from their position
they would not. They therefore sent a letter to their good friend and
agent in England, John Clarke, asking that he use his influence in
their behalf.
“They seem secretly to threaten us,” the letter ran, “by cutting us off
from all commerce and trade with them.... They make the prices, both of
our commodities and their own also, because we have not English coin,
but only that which passeth among these barbarians and such commodities
as are raised by the labor of our hands, as corn, cattle, tobacco, and
the like, to make payment in, which they will have at their own rate,
or else not deal with us.
“So may it please you to have an eye and care open in case our
adversaries should seek to undermine us in our privileges granted unto
us and to plead our case in such sort _as we may not be compelled to
exercise any civil power over men’s consciences_, so long as humane
orders in point of civility are not corrupted and violated.”
Brave, ringing words, that deserve to be written in letters of gold!
Massachusetts, meanwhile, continued in her unfortunate course, which,
happily, the other colonies did not follow so severely. Imprisonment,
fines, and banishment were followed by physical mutilation. As a final
step, profession of the Quaker faith was made a capital offence.
This law was not popular with the people at large, who were far more
tender-hearted than their magistrates. Very few received this extreme
sentence. The only woman to pay the death penalty was Mary Dyre, wife
of one of the leading citizens of Providence Plantations, who refused
to keep out of the forbidden territory.
In 1661, Charles II, then the reigning monarch of England, issued a
decree putting a stop to further persecution. Thus closed the five
dreadful years of Quaker punishment in New England.
The Quakers, let alone, became useful and respected citizens and
contributed a large share toward the well-being of the communities
in which they lived. In the colony of Providence Plantations, they
steadily gained followers and for over one hundred years took an active
part in public affairs. They occupied positions of prominence and
influence, especially in Newport. For five years, beginning 1672, Rhode
Island had a succession of Quaker governors.
The noble part played by the colony in the dark days of Quaker history
was due, in large part, to the teachings of Roger Williams. The stand
taken by him and his fellow colonists deserves all the more credit
because, personally, they disliked and disapproved of the Quakers. How
easy, then, it would have been to inflict punishment upon them and to
have found a perfectly good excuse for so doing!
Roger Williams wrote John Winthrop, Jr., his Connecticut correspondent,
that he rejoiced the latter’s name was not blurred but rather honored,
for his prudent and moderate hand in the Quaker trials.
For a moment we must skip a few years to the date 1672, which brings
us to the last chapter of Quaker history which has to do with Roger
Williams. In view of that part of the story that has gone before, the
admirers of the great man are a bit sorry that this chapter ever had
to be written. It happened when George Fox, the noted leader of the
Quakers, visited the colony. Roger Williams promptly challenged him to
a debate, religious discussions of this kind being very common in that
day. Failing to make arrangements to carry out this plan, he debated
with three of Fox’s most capable disciples instead. They argued three
days in Newport and one day in Providence. In order to reach the first
debating-place, Roger Williams rowed all the way from Providence to
Newport, a distance of thirty miles. It was an all day’s work--no small
task for a man about seventy years of age.
The meeting was a heated one. Nearly every one lost his temper and even
Roger Williams was unlike his usual kindly, charitable self. Nobody’s
opinion was changed and both sides claimed the victory. Each published
a book presenting long, dry, uninteresting arguments. That of Roger
Williams was entitled “George Fox digged out of his Burrows,” while the
Quaker volume was called “A New England Firebrand Quenched.”
Whatever may be thought about Roger Williams’ part in these
proceedings, he himself thought he was doing the colony a service by
arguing the matter in public. It was probably his purpose to show
that the community did not approve of disorder and disrespect of the
authorities. He maintained that it was not persecution to punish
moderately for such disrespect and grotesque offences as had marked the
advent of the Friends in Massachusetts.
In spite of his views concerning the early Quakers, Roger Williams
numbered among his friends many of this faith. He never allowed his
prejudices to govern him in his dealings with them. Best of all--and to
his lasting glory be it said--he never lifted a finger against them,
and no page of the history of the colony he founded is stained with
Quaker blood.
CHAPTER XIV
ROGER WILLIAMS AS CITIZEN
Through all the ups and downs of her troubled history, Providence
Plantations had remained loyal to England. The little colony had
allowed unusual liberty in many ways--liberty unknown in other parts
of New England--but had never faltered in her obedience to the mother
country. Thus when Oliver Cromwell was at the head of affairs, she
considered him her rightful ruler. A like loyalty was paid his son
Richard. Again, when the country once more became a monarchy, in
1660, she hastened to assure Charles II that the inhabitants of the
Narragansett Bay province were his true and faithful subjects.
The news of his accession to the throne was received with great
enthusiasm. The General Court appointed an hour for proclaiming “His
Royal Majesty, King Charles the Second, King of England, with all the
dominions and territories thereunto belonging” and military officers
were ordered to rally the “train band” for the occasion. Besides this,
another special day was set apart for solemnizing the event, which was
also carried out in true military fashion. All children and servants
were given a holiday. The flowery and submissive language with which
Charles was acknowledged monarch must sound curious enough to the
democratic descendants of these same colonists.
In the midst of all the joyful festivities, one concern filled the
minds of everybody. Their right to continued existence must be
confirmed. It was clear that Cromwell’s approval was out of date. It
would have no weight with the restored Stuart sovereign. A second
charter must be obtained, one that would bear the undeniable stamp of
royal authority. Thereupon Providence Plantations sent word to her
faithful agent, John Clarke, asking him to secure the desired charter.
By this time the patient man must have been prepared for any kind of
request from over the sea.
His success was announced in the year 1663. It would seem that
charters were going up in price. According to Roger Williams’
testimony, this second one meant an outlay of about a thousand pounds.
It was cheap at that, considering the great privileges it carried with
it. Under this precious new document, the colony continued to live for
one hundred and eighty years, long after the close of Roger Williams’
life. When finally abandoned, it was the oldest constitutional charter
in the world.
A “very great meeting of the freemen” of the colony was held to receive
the royal paper with due respect and honor. With appropriate ceremony,
Captain George Baxter, the bearer, opened the box in which it was kept
and read the gracious words of Charles to the assembly, after which the
charter was “held up on high and presented to the perfect view of the
people,” then safely locked up in the box again.
By virtue of this latest document, the colony received a new name--or,
rather, a bulky addition to its old one. In this charter it was called
“The English Colony of Rhode Island and Providence Plantations, in New
England, in America.” From now on, the name “Rhode Island” became more
prominent and “Providence Plantations” less so until, in common usage,
it was dropped altogether. In 1776, the word “State” was substituted
for “English Colony.”
Besides a change of name, the charter also provided that henceforth
governors should take the place of presidents and the first governor
and his assistants were named. Roger Williams was one of the latter and
he repeatedly held this office in the years following.
The most wonderful part of the whole charter was that section granting
perfect liberty of conscience to the colony. It was all the more
remarkable and surprising, as King Charles was not noted for either
tolerance or liberality.
“Our royal will and pleasure is that no person within the said colony
any time hereafter, shall be any wise molested, punished, disquieted,
or called in question, for any differences in opinion in matters of
religion, and do not actually disturb the civil peace of our said
colony; but that all and every person and persons may, from time to
time, and at all times hereafter, freely and fully have and enjoy
his and their own judgments and consciences, in matters of religious
concernments, throughout the tract of land hereafter mentioned.”
The words might have been penned by Roger Williams himself. Very likely
they never would have been written had it not been for his persistent
struggle for that same liberty of conscience, about which he said, “We
must part with lands and lives before we part with such a jewel.”
The founder of Rhode Island and Providence Plantations was now
approaching the evening of life. He had carefully watched and tended
the infant colony so that it could stand alone. He had raised it to
a position of respect and importance. For his unselfish and loving
labors, he surely deserved a brief period of rest. Yet, contrary to
his wishes, he was drawn into public life again. He wrote his friend
Winthrop these reluctant words: “I have since been occasioned and drawn
(being nominated in the charter to appear again upon the deck) from my
beloved privacy; my humble desires are to contribute my poor mite (as
I have ever, and I hope ever shall) to preserve plantation and public
interest of the whole New England and not interest of this or that
town, colony, opinion, etc.”
From this time on, both in and out of office, Roger Williams showed
what an immense amount of good can be accomplished by a public-spirited
citizen if he is willing to sacrifice selfish aims for the benefit of
all. Time and again there was occasion for him to act as peace-maker,
as in the years gone by. Gentleness, tact, and forbearance were
the means he used. In a word, he was a great diplomat. Because his
victories were bloodless ones, his fellow-citizens did not appreciate
his greatness.
For one thing, Roger Williams was chosen to copy the charter into the
records of the colony. For drawing up colonial documents of various
kinds, his skill was constantly in demand. In 1664, when a revision of
the laws was thought necessary, he was appointed member of a committee
to attend to this business. In the same year he was named one of the
agents to determine an eastern boundary line between the colony and
Plymouth.
Indian troubles were never settled without his intervention. Here he
knew his ground perfectly and could be trusted by all parties concerned
to give just decisions. The Indians of Warwick, as we have seen, caused
endless trouble for the colonists, claiming that as they had pledged
allegiance to Massachusetts, Providence Plantations had no right to
punish them for lawless acts. Now the sachem Pumham, who occupied
Warwick Neck, had no legal right to the land, as his superior sachem
had sold it years before. Again and again he stubbornly refused to
budge an inch, though the town of Warwick had paid him twenty pounds to
seek a home elsewhere.
About this time, four commissioners were sent over to New England by
King Charles for the purpose of hearing complaints, settling boundary
disputes and like claims, and establishing the peace and security of
the country. They now applied themselves to the task of ousting the
mulish Indian chief.
Before long Roger Williams took a hand in the matter. He got in touch
with Sir Robert Carr, one of the royal agents, and calmly and clearly
reviewed for him the entire history of the quarrel. Then, instead of
urging force and harshness, he explained that very different means
must be employed with the natives. He likened them to oxen, who, if
treated with cruelty, will die rather than yield, but with patience and
gentleness, can be made to give good and willing service. “Lay all the
blame on me,” he concluded, “and on my intercession and mediation, for
a little further breathing to the barbarians until harvest, in which
time a peaceable and loving agreement may be wrought, to mutual consent
and satisfaction.”
Roger Williams was a wise prophet. The sensible commissioner took
advantage of his co-operation and finally the matter was closed to
everybody’s satisfaction. And this without a drop of blood being
shed, thanks to the man who believed that even erring natives should
be treated as human beings. “I respect not one party more than the
other,” he once said in a similar quarrel, “but I desire to witness
truth; and as I desire to witness against oppression, so, also, against
the slighting of civil, yea, of barbarous order and government.”
We are glad to know that the commissioners of King Charles handed
their royal master a very favorable report of the Rhode Island colony.
They even had a good word for the Narragansett Indians. The natives
had pledged their allegiance to the king and, in token of their
subjection, promised to pay His Majesty two wolfskins a year. They
also sent Charles some truly barbarous tokens of affection, including
two wampum caps, two clubs inlaid with wampum, and a feather mantle,
besides a porcupine bag for the queen. It is a pity these gifts fell
into the hands of the Dutch and never reached their destination.
What a sensation they would have made at court among the nobles and
ladies-in-waiting! But the giving was not all on one side. Two coats
were presented the sachems in the king’s name, with which they were
greatly pleased. It would not be surprising if Roger Williams had made
the suggestion, knowing the Indian weakness in matters of dress.
An opportunity came for Roger Williams to use his influence in behalf
of John Clarke, the good friend of the colony who had labored in
her interests in the mother country for twelve long years. It had
been voted to pay him for his trouble, but due either to poverty
or unwillingness (probably both), the required amount had not been
forthcoming. So the matter dragged on, long after the charter affair
was settled and the agent had returned to America. Even back in London
days, Mr. Clarke was so short of funds that he had been obliged to
mortgage his Newport home. Stung to the quick by what he considered
rank ingratitude, Roger Williams wrote a sharp letter to Warwick, the
most backward town.
“It is no more honest,” he wrote, “for us to withdraw in this case than
for men to come to an ordinary [tavern] and to call for the best wine
and liquors, the best meats, roast and baked, the best attendance,
etc., and to be able to pay for all and yet most unworthily steal away
and not discharge the reckoning.” Then changing his figure of speech,
he continued:
“Shall we say we are Christians ... to ride securely in a troublous
sea and time by a new cable and anchor of Mr. Clarke’s procuring, and
be so far from satisfying his engagement about them, that we turn him
adrift to languish and sink, with his back broke for putting under his
shoulder to ease us?”
The letter quickened the colony to further action. The mortgaged home
was saved, but, unfortunately, the debt was never paid in full.
There were boundary disputes during these years, both among the
colonists themselves and with outsiders. In Providence, troubles
arose from the Indian grants made so many years before. Mr. Harris,
Roger Williams’ old enemy, and others interpreted the language of the
Indian deed to mean that Canonicus and Miantonomo had really given
away several hundred thousand acres of land that had never been taken
possession of by the colonists. To-day, if a pretended claim of a
similar nature should come up, we would very likely call it a case of
clear “graft.” Roger Williams, ever on the defensive when the Indians
were concerned, declared stoutly that the chiefs had meant nothing of
the kind. And, indeed, what man was better informed on this subject
than Roger Williams himself? Had he not dealt directly with the
Narragansett sachems? Had he not talked with them in their own tongue?
He so persistently blocked and delayed every measure to appropriate the
territory in question that the matter was never carried to a successful
finish. Still the short-sighted grumblers called his whole-hearted
interest “meddling.” With saddened heart, he recorded their taunts:
“But some cried out, when Roger Williams had laid himself down as a
stone in the dust, for after-comers to step on in town and colony,
‘What is Roger Williams? We know the Indians and the sachems as well
as he. We will trust Roger Williams no longer. We will have our bounds
confirmed us under the sachems’ hands before us.’”
The details of the other boundary quarrels make dry, difficult reading
in these days. They are interesting only as they bring out the
character of Roger Williams and the part he played in trying to adjust
them. The disputed land was principally the Narragansett country, or
the southern half of the present state of Rhode Island. Massachusetts
claimed territory here, so did Plymouth, and, added to their
encroachments, were those of Connecticut. If the land had been divided
up as they all wished, little enough would have been left of tiny Rhode
Island to form a respectable state afterwards!
Roger Williams saw in this desire to annex territory a prevailing greed
for land, which he looked upon as one of the greatest failings of
New England. He could not understand how his countrymen of the other
colonies “should not be content with those vast and large tracts (like
platters and tables full of dainties), but pull and snatch away their
poor neighbors’ bit or crust”; adding, “and a crust it is, and a dry,
hard one, too, because of the natives’ continual troubles, trials and
vexations.”
To Major Mason of Connecticut he wrote a letter (which has since become
famous) upholding the rights of Rhode Island. That prominent man
afterwards advised his colony that he hardly thought it wise to attempt
to acquire the land in question. Thus we infer that Roger Williams’
diplomacy did much to avert further aggression on the Connecticut side
at least.
Not all Roger Williams’ tasks were big ones. He was not the man to say
that because he was capable of great things, he would let the little
things slip by. He performed numberless neighborly services of a legal
character, either as witness or executor. It fell upon him to take
charge of the house and lot of a certain John Clawson, a Dutchman, whom
he had befriended when needy and employed as a household servant. He
had taught him to read and given him a Dutch Testament. It is amusing
to think that this Providence real estate was valued at eleven pounds.
More amusing still were the terms of its disposal. Roger Williams sold
it for “current country pay” in three yearly instalments of cloth,
stockings, corn and apples. Even on these easy terms, the buyer took
about double the time for payment that the agreement allowed.
Public spirit was sometimes at a low ebb in early Providence. Thus
there was no end of trouble trying to erect a suitable bridge near the
center of the town and keeping it in proper repair. The townspeople
argued, deliberated, debated, but nobody seemed aggressive enough to
push the work. Finally Roger Williams stepped into the breach. “I will,
with God’s help, take this bridge unto my care.” What a relief it must
have been to realize that somebody had taken the initiative at last!
He made Providence a business-like proposition, whereby the citizens
were to donate their labor, the amount being apportioned to the use
they would make of the bridge and whether they had a team or not. This
sharing of work was only fair, for the inhabitants of the town were to
be exempt from toll, a moderate sum being asked of strangers only.
There was nothing striking, nothing impressive, about these public
services of Roger Williams and they did not win the applause of the
crowd. Sometimes they gained for him nothing but unpopularity. Yet at
no other period in his long career do we get a finer idea of the real
nobility of the man than in these latter years when old age was coming
on and his word was perhaps not listened to with the respect of former
days. He cheerfully took up and faithfully performed the local duties
that came his way, though he had been recognized by Parliament, had
been on an intimate footing with the greatest statesmen of England, and
was himself one of the wisest, most far-sighted men of his age. This
was citizenship at its best.
CHAPTER XV
KING PHILIP’S WAR
It is not easy to tell the true cause of King Philip’s War. There were
probably many causes, some of them dating years back. Such a struggle
was bound to come, sooner or later, to determine who should remain
masters of New England--the first comers or the white men from over the
sea. More than once Roger Williams had postponed the evil day, but even
his influence was not great enough to prevent the smouldering fires of
jealousy, distrust and revenge from finally bursting into a destructive
conflagration.
Back in 1620, when the Pilgrims landed in Plymouth, they had formed a
treaty of peace with Massasoit, chief of the Wampanoags. This faithful
Indian sachem kept his word during the remaining years of his life.
The colonists were not so fortunate in their dealings with his son and
successor, Wamsutta or Alexander. Word was sent to the governor that he
plotted mischief against the English and had asked the Narragansetts to
aid him in his rebellion. Determining to put an end to such disloyalty
at once, the governor, after Alexander’s refusal to attend court,
had him arrested and taken to Plymouth. It was a most unfortunate
business, thus to humiliate a proud chief on his own territory.
Suddenly Alexander became violently ill and died almost immediately.
The exact cause of his death is not known, but probably extreme heat
and anger hastened the end. Bad feeling between the Indians and their
white neighbors was the immediate result of this misfortune. Some of
Alexander’s followers, including his wife, even spread the report that
the sachem had been poisoned. This was untrue, but it furnished one of
the causes of the hostilities that followed.
Metacomet or Philip, Alexander’s brother and the next chief of the
Wampanoags, was not one to submit to wrongs tamely. Plymouth and
Massachusetts soon had occasion to suspect him of secretly planning
war. In their uneasiness, they appealed to Roger Williams and he
succeeded, for the time being, in breaking up Philip’s designs. Largely
through his influence, the war was put off for four years. Outwardly
obedient, the Wampanoag chief gave up about seventy guns to the English
as proof of his fidelity. There is no reason to think, however, that he
abandoned the idea of a war when the time should be ripe. For several
years he merely “marked time” until everything should be in readiness.
The struggle was finally begun in the summer of 1675, sooner than
Philip had meant. One of his nearest advisers, a converted Indian,
betrayed his chief’s plot to the English. It was therefore necessary to
strike at once. To be just to King Philip, he doubtless thought he had
good and sufficient reason for his action. He summed up the causes of
the conflict thus:
“By various means they [the English] got possession of a great part of
his [Massasoit’s] territory. But he still remained their friend till he
died. My elder brother became sachem. They pretended to suspect him of
evil designs against them. He was seized and confined, thereby thrown
into sickness and died. Soon after I became sachem, they disarmed all
my people. They tried my people by their own laws; assessed damages
against them, which they could not pay. Their land was taken. At
length a line of division was agreed upon between the English and my
people, and I myself was to be answerable. Sometimes the cattle of the
English would come into the cornfields of my people, as they did not
make fences like the English. I must then be seized and confined, till
I sold another tract of my country for satisfaction of all damages
and costs. Thus, tract after tract is gone. But a small part of the
dominions of my ancestors remains. I am determined not to live till I
have no country.”
There was grave danger of a Narragansett alliance. Philip had been
working for it for a long time. The chief sachems of the Rhode
Island Indians at this time were Pessicus, Miantonomo’s brother, and
Canonchet, Miantonomo’s son, and therefore nephew of Pessicus. They
were joint rulers, much like Canonicus and Miantonomo in the earlier
days. But, whereas Canonicus and Miantonomo had been in favor of
peace at almost any price, their descendants were not so submissive.
A far different spirit fired them. Pessicus, it is true, gave Roger
Williams to understand that he was peaceable enough, but had difficulty
restraining the younger men of his tribe. Canonchet, on the other hand
(the “hopeful spark” of Miantonomo, as Roger Williams called him), was
openly declared the war sachem of the Narragansetts. The cruel death
of his father still rankled and he would have been less than human had
he not longed to make the most of the opportunity for revenge that now
came to him without his seeking.
The colony of Rhode Island strongly opposed the war. The inhabitants
had no just quarrel with the Indians. Besides, they were under Quaker
influence and people of this faith did not believe in taking up arms.
Five Rhode Island citizens, probably Friends, bent on a peaceful
settlement of the dispute, arranged for a meeting with Philip. The
story of their conference is quaintly told by Mr. John Easton, the
deputy governor of the colony and the head of the party:
“We sat very friendly together. We told him [Philip] our business was
to endeavor that they might not ... do wrong. They said that was well;
they had done no wrong, the English wronged them. We said we knew the
English said the Indians wronged them, and the Indians said the English
wronged them, but our desire was the quarrel might rightly be decided,
in the best way, and not as dogs decided their quarrels. The Indians
owned that fighting was the worst way: then they propounded how right
might take place.”
It was unfortunate for the warring colonists, and the Indians as well,
that nothing came of this attempt at arbitration. There was one hope
left--Roger Williams. The Boston authorities sent three men to Rhode
Island with the earnest request that he try to bring the Narragansetts
to terms. He answered the call with his usual prompt willingness.
Within half an hour, he had left Providence and was on his way, with
the three messengers, to the Narragansett country. He had no trouble
in securing an audience with Canonchet, Pessicus and other leading
Narragansetts. They greeted him with fair, smooth words--altogether too
fair and smooth to be sincere. They agreed to hand over any of Philip’s
men who fell into their hands, to remain hostile to the Wampanoag
sachem, to deliver up all stolen goods to the English, to refrain from
further theft, and to serve as a guard about the Narragansett country
for the protection of the English.
Poor Roger Williams! Devotedly, unceasingly he worked until, as he
said, his old bones and eyes were weary with travel and writing. So
constantly was his pen in use that his stock of letter paper completely
gave out. Writing to the governor of Massachusetts, he said, “Since
I am oft occasioned to write upon the public business, I shall be
thankful for a little paper upon the public account, being now near
destitute.”
And all the time he could not help but “suspect that all the fine words
from the Indian sachems to us were but words of policy, falsehood
and treachery.” His fears were well grounded. No sooner had the
Massachusetts men started on their homeward journey than one hundred
armed Narragansetts appeared in Warwick and terrified the town. Warning
was received, too, from Pessicus that the English in the Narragansett
country would do well to be on their guard and to keep strict watch. If
they could strongly fortify one or two houses, so much the better; if
not, then flight was their only course.
It was plain that the Narragansetts could be held in leash no longer.
The call of their Indian allies--blood of their blood--completely
drowned out the gentle voice of Roger Williams. The prayer of
Canonicus--yes, and of Massasoit, too--that their children after them
might live in love and peace with the English forever was not to be
realized. Sadly the best friend the Narragansetts ever had was forced
to confess that the tribe must be subdued as wolves who have attacked
sheep.
Meanwhile, the settlement of Swansea, near the boundary line between
Rhode Island and Plymouth, had been ravaged by Philip’s men and several
persons killed and wounded. The war then spread with lightning rapidity
through the different towns of Massachusetts. Connecticut, too, was
invaded, for the Indians of the Connecticut River had thrown themselves
into the struggle. Rhode Island as a colony kept out of the war, but
she was not allowed to remain untouched. The Narragansett country
became, in turn, a battle-ground in the winter of 1675.
The Narragansetts were accused by the English of having sheltered
Philip’s people, and, as some of the young braves now and then returned
to their homes wounded, it was considered proof that they had, too,
been on the war-path. Massachusetts, Plymouth and Connecticut decided
to break the power of the Narragansetts before they could join Philip
in the spring. They therefore raised a strong force of over a thousand
men and, strengthened by Rhode Island volunteers, marched to a point in
the neighborhood of what is now South Kingston.
The Indians had stoutly intrenched themselves in a fort in the midst
of a treacherous swamp. Here, on a bleak, freezing December day, a
desperate battle, commonly known as the “Great Swamp Fight,” was fought
to a bitter end. It was the dreadful massacre of Fort Mystic all over
again. As in the Pequot War of forty years before, the attacking
party forced an entrance into the fort and completed their work of
destruction by fire. Exposure and cold, added to the flames, reduced
the Indians quickly. They sacrificed several hundred--either slain
outright or taken prisoners--but the English also suffered severe
losses.
Though the spirit of the Narragansetts was broken, the people of the
mainland towns were greatly alarmed. The General Assembly, meeting at
Newport in the spring of 1676, urged them to give up their homes and
take refuge on the Island of Rhode Island. Newport and Portsmouth
generously offered land for planting and even proclaimed that the
new-comers, “so wanting a liberty, shall have a cow kept upon the
commons.” Many families accepted the invitation with haste and
thankfulness. The protected stretch of land in Narragansett Bay became
a perfect isle of refuge. The entire town of Warwick moved thither and
remained until the war was over. It was the safest thing that could be
done, for shortly afterwards, the settlement was practically burned to
the ground. Only one dwelling remained standing.
Many Providence people emigrated also, including Mrs. Williams. Of the
five hundred inhabitants, less than thirty remained behind. Prominent
in the list of those “who stayed and went not away,” is the name of
Roger Williams. He did not know the meaning of fear and preferred to
defend his city rather than join the fugitives on the island. He had
not been able to turn aside the savage tide of fury and hate, but at
least he could stem it as far as possible. Though over seventy years
old, he accepted a commission as captain and faithfully drilled the
few defenders under his command. In addition, he started a subscription
list to pay for fortifying a house and building a second defence and
himself pledged the largest sum of all--ten pounds. And he was far from
being a rich man, too.
On March 29, 1676, the city was attacked by the Indians and twenty-nine
dwellings burned. The following tradition shows that even at this late
hour Roger Williams attempted to change the will of the savages.
Leaning on his staff, he went to the heights at the north of the town
to meet them and reason with them as he had done so many times in the
past.
“Massachusetts,” said he, “can raise thousands of men at this moment,
and if you kill them, the King of England will supply their places as
fast as they fall.”
“Well,” answered one of the chieftains, “let them come. We are ready
for them. But as for you, Brother Williams, you are a good man. You
have been kind to us many years. Not a hair of your head shall be
touched.”
Quaker Rhode Island at last woke up and paid some attention to the
question of defence. It was all very well to hold theories about the
wickedness of war, but these ideas did not insure safety for one’s
family or keep the natives at bay. The colony records show that closely
following the attack upon Providence, a boat patrol was organized, a
garrison provided, and ammunition ordered. Care was taken that the
duties of the commander in charge should not interfere with “Captain
Williams’ power in the exercise of the train band.”
Canonchet was captured in April. He was surprised by some Connecticut
men and friendly Indian allies, and, in attempting to escape by wading
a river, slipped and fell an easy prey to a waiting Pequot on the
opposite bank. He was taken captive to Connecticut. As his father
Miantonomo had lost his life at the hands of Uncas, so now the son owed
his death to Uncas’ son. In many ways the earlier tragedy was enacted
over again. Canonchet showed the same disdainful pride that Miantonomo
had displayed. In answer to an Englishman who questioned him, he
replied scornfully, “You much child! No understand matters of war! Let
your brother or chief come. Him I will answer!” Being told that he must
die, he said calmly, “I like it well; I shall die before my heart is
soft, or I have said anything unworthy of myself.”
The tide had turned. It needed now but a final struggle to convince the
natives they were fighting against hopeless odds. Philip’s wife and son
were taken captive in the summer. Soon afterwards, a decisive battle
took place near Mount Hope on August 12th. Philip, betrayed by one of
his men, was killed. This ended the war.
The citizens of Providence came back to their partly burned town and
took up their daily duties once more, but with a greater sense of
security. Providence, son of Roger Williams, took his mother home from
Newport in a sloop that belonged to him.
The Wampanoags were nearly exterminated, while scarcely a hundred
Narragansetts survived. Captives were sold into slavery, either at home
or abroad. With this fate in store, Philip’s young son of nine years
was shipped to Bermuda.
The buying and selling of Indians was allowed even within the borders
of liberal Rhode Island. The people of that day were not so enlightened
as their descendants of a later age and saw no wrong in such a
proceeding. Then, too, they doubtless looked upon the subjection of the
red men as a means of safety. Yet this colony was far more humane than
her neighbors. The inhabitants passed a law prohibiting Indian slavery
for life and those unfortunate warriors who were held as bondmen served
a limited term of years only.
CHAPTER XVI
BACK TO THE SHADOWS
After King Philip’s War, Roger Williams, now an old man, gradually
disappeared from public view. Only now and then do we obtain fleeting
glimpses of these last years. We know that at one time he was elected
assistant, but declined to serve. This by no means meant that his
interest in the colony had ceased, but rather that the burden of years
and physical ills had reduced his strength and endurance. He still
followed closely the course of events and whenever a word from him
could further the cause of right, his voice was heard with all its
old-time vigor.
One of the last acts of his life was to write an earnest letter to
the town of Providence upholding the just levying of taxes. Clearly,
logically, he explained to the inhabitants the necessity of supporting
government and order, as they tended to the peace and good of mankind.
He also reminded them how fortunate they were to live under such a
charter as they possessed, for, said he, “Our charter excels all in New
England, or in the world, as to the souls of men.”
Again, when the people of Providence proposed to divide certain common
lands among themselves, he pleaded that they be left untouched for the
use of future new-comers who might have to flee from persecution. To
the very last, soul liberty was dear to his heart.
“I have only one motion and petition,” were his stirring words, “which
I earnestly pray the town to lay to heart, as ever they look for a
blessing from God on the town, on your families, your corn and cattle,
and your children after you, it is this, that after you have got over
the black brook of soul bondage yourselves, you tear not down the
bridge after you, by leaving no small pittance for distressed souls
that may come after you.”
Both before and after the war, he spent considerable time preaching
to the English dwellers in the Narragansett country and it is very
probable that he had Indian congregations also. Once a month, for many
years, he journeyed back and forth, between his own home at Providence
and Mr. Smith’s at Narragansett, for this purpose. It is remarkable
that a man of his advanced age, handicapped by lameness and illness,
could have carried on such a work as long as he did.
When he was finally forced to give up active life, he then turned to
profitable occupation indoors. He valued time and made the most of it.
“One grain of its inestimable sand,” he once said, “is worth a golden
mountain.” After such a long life of faithful service, he could have
been excused had he chosen to sit still in the twilight of his life
with folded hands. Instead, by the home fireside he put together the
sermons he had preached with an idea of having them published. He
never saw them in print. The fact that he had to apply to those of his
friends in his own colony, Massachusetts, Connecticut and Plymouth
“who hath a shilling and a heart to countenance such a work” to meet
the expenses of publication, shows that he must have been poor at
this time. The written pages numbered but thirty and the cost of their
printing could not have been an exorbitant sum.
There is every reason to think, in fact, that Roger Williams and his
wife were partly dependent upon their son Daniel toward the close of
their lives. And he cared for them with true filial devotion, too.
“I judge,” he said in the quaint language of that age, “they wanted
nothing that was convenient for ancient people.” Instead of saving for
the proverbial rainy day, the open-hearted founder of Rhode Island had
generously disposed of the best of his worldly possessions for the good
of others. Give, give, give! It had been the motto of his life. Said
this same son, “He gave away his lands and other estate to them that
he thought were most in want, until he gave away all, so that he had
nothing to help himself.... If a covetous man had that opportunity as
he had, most of this town would have been his tenants, I believe.”
The humble home in which Roger Williams spent his Providence days was
very likely much like that of his neighbors. They were truly primitive
dwellings--those early houses--usually consisting of a single large
room down stairs, one end of which was taken up by a generous stone
chimney, and a half-story loft above, reached by a steep, ladder-like
flight of stairs. As family needs increased, a “lean-to” was added to
the main structure. Even so, there must have been scarcity of elbow
room in those days of sizable families and free hospitality.
Neither the exact day nor month of Roger Williams’ death is known.
Like the date of his birth, it remains a mystery. The nearest we can
come to it is that it must have been some time between January 16th
and May 10th, 1683. No reliable record has ever been found, and the
only facts that have come down to us regarding the close of this noble,
self-sacrificing life consist of two mere fragments of information. The
one, a brief extract from a letter written by one John Thornton from
Providence to his friend, Samuel Hubbard, at Newport, the other, a line
from a Colonial historian, are as follows:
“The Lord hath arrested by death our ancient and approved friend, Mr.
Roger Williams.”
“He was buried with all the solemnity the colony was able to show.”
Out of the shadows he came, back to the shadows he returned. The death
of the Apostle of Soul Liberty was nothing more than the slightest
ripple on the surface of the life of the community. The people with
whom Roger Williams lived had no conception of his real greatness. It
remained for a later age to appreciate him and his work.
Yet there is an interesting tradition which would seem to show that
nature at least did her best to save him from oblivion. He was buried
in the family plot at the rear of his dwelling on the slope of the hill
which led up from the bubbling spring where he first landed. When,
in the rapid growth of the city, it became necessary to remove the
graves of the early settlers, there was found in Roger Williams’ last
resting-place only the spreading root of an apple tree which, in the
passing years, had taken on a curious resemblance to the human form.
The personal belongings of Roger Williams at the close of his life must
have been few and, for the most part, of no great value. Still at least
two priceless relics may be seen to-day which have survived the wear
and tear of time. One of these--a pocket-compass--he used to “steer his
course” on that momentous journey from unfriendly Massachusetts Bay to
the shores of Narragansett. At the base of the instrument are the usual
pivoted needle and points of the compass. There is a sun-dial above,
the shadows being thrown upon hours cut in the brass rim around the
edge of the case. The compass was mentioned in an inventory made by
Providence Williams in 1686. It became a treasured family heirloom in
the years that followed until it found a permanent home in the rooms of
the Rhode Island Historical Society.
What thrilling stories the little compass might tell if it could only
speak--of New England woods bowed down with their mantle of snow
through which the weary traveler plodded his way, of days and days
when the wintry sun made no record upon the sun-dial face, of
lurking savages whose suspicion was changed to glad greeting once they
recognized the fugitive, of welcome wigwams where the fare was crude
but hospitably offered.
[Illustration:
Roger Williams’ pocket-compass and sun-dial with cover. This
photograph was taken at the rooms of the Rhode Island Historical
Society.]
[Illustration:
Roger Williams’ watch. It is now kept at Fraunces Tavern, New York
City, but is the personal property of Mr. Henry Russell Drowne, whose
family received it from a lineal descendant of Roger Williams.]
The other Roger Williams relic is an odd, old-fashioned silver watch,
with works of Dutch, and case of French, manufacture. It is heavy and
cumbrous, measuring an inch and a half in thickness, with rock crystal
in place of glass. The carved silver face has hands of gold and the day
of the month, which changes every twenty-four hours. The exterior case
(for it is a double-case watch) represents the familiar scene from the
“Iliad,” where Hector takes an affectionate farewell of Andromache and
their small son Astyanax:
“Thus having spoke, the illustrious chief of Troy
Stretched his fond arms to clasp the lovely boy.
The babe clung crying to his nurse’s breast,
Scared at the dazzling helm and nodding crest.
With secret pleasure each fond parent smiled,
And Hector hasted to relieve his child,
The glittering terrors from his brows unbound,
And placed the beaming helmet on the ground.”
It is believed that Roger Williams’ wife and children survived him, but
incidents of Mrs. Williams’ life are tantalizingly meagre. There were
six children--the oldest daughter Mary, born in Plymouth, Freeborn,
born in Salem, Providence, the first male child in the new colony, a
third daughter Mercy, and two other sons, Daniel and Joseph.
Of the oldest child Mary--the little maid of Plymouth and the first
who came to gladden her mother’s and father’s heart--almost nothing is
known.
Fortunately, Freeborn’s history is less mysterious. She married a young
shipmaster by the name of Hart and made her home in Newport with her
four children. After her husband’s death, she had the courage to marry
Walter Clarke, who had been twice a widower and was the father of seven
children.
Providence, a shop-keeper and shipmaster of Newport, never married.
Mercy Williams became the wife of Resolved Waterman and the mother of
five children. She was married a second time to Samuel Winsor. Their
son Samuel became minister of the Baptist Church in Providence. In one
point he agreed heartily with his grandfather Roger--that ministers
should receive no pay for their services. With something of his
kinsman’s spirit, he refused invitations to Sunday dinners “for fear
they should be considerations for Sunday sermons.”
Daniel Williams married Rebecca Power, a widow whose husband had
been killed in the “Great Swamp Fight.” It fell to Roger Williams’
lot to record the marriage, for he was then town clerk. He described
it as “the first marriage since God mercifully restored the town of
Providence.” Daniel’s children numbered five sons.
Joseph Williams, the youngest child, married Lydia Olney, who survived
him only three weeks. They had three sons. In Roger Williams Park,
Providence, may be seen the old family burial plot of Joseph Williams
and his descendants, containing weather-beaten stones bearing
old-fashioned inscriptions. That of the head of the family is quaint
enough to be given a place here:
“In King Philip’s War he courageously went through,
And the native Indians he bravely did subdue;
And now he’s gone down to the grave and he will be no more,
Until it please Almighty God his body to restore
Into some proper shape as he thinks fit to be,
Perhaps like a grain of wheat, as Paul sets forth, you see.”
In all probability Joseph Williams did his duty during the terrible
Indian scourge, yet we prefer to dwell upon those earlier, pleasanter
days when the friendship of the red man had not turned to distrust and
hatred.
Roger Williams Park recalls that period, for it was formerly the
woodland and fields given by Canonicus and Miantonomo to the white
neighbor and friend they always loved and respected. In time it became
the possession of Miss Betsy Williams, who bequeathed it to the city in
memory of her famous and well-beloved ancestor. The hundred acres have
since been beautified and added to until to-day the picturesque stretch
of park-land is one of the most attractive in the United States--a
fitting and beautiful memorial to the great man whose name it bears.
Miss Williams attached one condition to her gift--that a statue of
Roger Williams should be erected by Providence. The condition was met
and to Mr. Franklin Simmons of Rome was entrusted the important but
difficult task of trying to express in granite and bronze something of
the nobility of one of the greatest of Americans.
Roger Williams has also been awarded a niche in the “Hall of Fame for
Great Americans” at New York University. He is one of an illustrious
company of wonderful characters who have made America--and the
world--better for their having lived.
But, after all, it is in the hearts of all true Americans that Roger
Williams should be given the most cherished place. The principles
for which he stood have so long been recognized and accepted by the
world that we are apt to forget there ever was a time when they were
new and startling. All the more honor, then, is due him for having
had the courage of his convictions when it meant unpopularity,
misunderstanding and suffering.
“Aye, let the Muse of History write
On a white stone his honored name,
Loyal to liberty and light,
First on Rhode Island’s roll of fame.
“While Church and State would ‘hold the fort’
With sword and scourge and penal fires,
His faith a broader haven sought,
The faith that welcomes and aspires.
“While credal watchwords rise and fall,
His banner to the winds unfurled,
Proclaimed on Freedom’s outer wall,
Peace and Good-will to all the world.
“Well may the Muse of History place
Foremost among the just and free,
His honored name, wherein we trace
The soul of Law and Liberty.”
Transcriber’s Notes
In the caption on the illustration between pages 46 and 57, “Seekenk
River” changed to “Seekonk River”.
Page 121: “tweny-four” changed to “twenty-four”
Page 192: “the Narrangansetts” changed to “the Narragansetts”
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