Roger Williams, by May Emery Hall—A Project Gutenberg eBook 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. 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.