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