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