Richard Smith, Jr.,
James Smith,
William Dyre.
“Richard Smith, and Richard Smith, jun. swore, that this deed was explained before it was signed.” April 28, 1660, Acaquaomitt, son of Quoquagunewett, confirmed the preceding deed.
This deed was, it appears, written by Mr. William Harris. This fact accounts for its phraseology. It was asserted by Mr. Williams and others, that the sachems did not understand its full import, when they signed it. It was procured on the ground, that Mr. Williams’ deed from the sachems conveyed a life estate only to him, and consequently his deed to the purchasers could convey no other title. This deed, also, greatly extended the original bounds, and thus gratified those who had contended, that the phrase “up streams without limits,” in the sachems’ deed to Mr. Williams, gave a title to the lands lying along the rivers Pawtuxet and Pawtucket, up to their sources. This construction was always resisted by Roger Williams, as false, and as injurious to the natives. The new deed was disapproved by himself and others.[[317]] It appears to have been procured in no friendly spirit towards himself. It implied that he had acted improperly, in taking the deed in his own name, and it calls him the “agent of the men of Providence and the men of Pawtuxet.” But it has, we trust, been satisfactorily shown, in preceding pages, that Mr. Williams was the rightful proprietor of the original grant, and was under no obligation to divide the land among his fellow-colonists.
The following letters to Mr. Winthrop, touch on several interesting topics:
“To my honored, kind friend, Mr. John Winthrop, Governor, at Hartford, on Connecticut.
“Providence, 6, 12, 59–60.
“Sir,
“Loving respects to yourself and Mrs. Winthrop, &c. Your loving lines in this cold, dead season, were as a cup of your Connecticut cider, which we are glad to hear abounds with you, or of that western metheglin, which you and I have drunk at Bristol together, &c. Indeed, it is the wonderful power and goodness of God, that we are preserved in our dispersions among these wild, barbarous wretches. I hear not of their excursions this winter, and should rejoice if, as you hint, Uncas and his brother were removed to Long-Island, or any where, or else, as I have sometimes motioned, a truce for some good term of years might be obtained amongst them. But how should we expect that the streams of blood should stop among the dregs of mankind, when the bloody issues flow so fresh and fearfully among the finest and most refined sons of men and sons of God. We have not only heard of the four northern nations, Dania, Swedia, Anglia, and Belgium, all Protestants, (heretics and dogs, with the Pope, &c.) last year tearing and devouring one another, in the narrow straits and eminent high passages and turns of the sea and world; but we also have a sound of the Presbyterians’ rage new burst out into flames of war from Scotland, and the independent and sectarian army provoked again to new appeals to God, and engagements against them. Thus, while this last Pope hath plied with sails and oars, and brought all his popish sons to peace, except Portugal, and brought in his grand engineers, the Jesuits, again to Venice, after their long just banishment, we Protestants are wofully disposed to row backward, and bring our sails aback-stays, and provoke the holy, jealous Lord, who is a consuming fire, to kindle again those fires from Rome and hell, which formerly consumed (in Protestant countries) so many precious servants of God. The late renowned Oliver confessed to me, in close discourse about the Protestants’ affairs, &c. that he yet feared great persecutions to the Protestants from the Romanists, before the downfall of the Papacy. The histories of our fathers before us, tell us what huge bowls of the blood of the saints that great whore hath been drunk with, in (now) Protestant dominions. Sure her judgment will ring through the world, and it is hoped it is not far from the door. Sir, you were, not long since, the son of two noble fathers, Mr. John Winthrop and Mr. H. Peters. It is said they are both extinguished. Surely, I did ever, from my soul, honor and love them even when their judgments led them to afflict me. Ye the Father of Spirits spares us breath, and I rejoice, Sir that your name (amongst the New-England magistrates printed, to the Parliament and army, by H. Nort. Rous, &c.) is not blurred, but rather honored, for your prudent and moderate hand in the late Quakers’ trials amongst us. And it is said, that in the late Parliament, yourself were one of the three in nomination for General Governor over New-England, which however that design ripened not, yet your name keeps up a high esteem, &c. I have seen your hand to a letter to this colony, as to your late purchase of some land at Narraganset.[[318]] The sight of your hand hath quieted some jealousies amongst us, that the Bay, by this purchase, designed some prejudice to the liberty of conscience amongst us. We are in consultations how to answer that letter, and my endeavor shall be, with God’s help, to welcome, with both our hands and arms, your interest in these parts, though we have no hope to enjoy your personal residence amongst us. I rejoice to hear that you gain, by new plantations, upon this wilderness. I fear that many precious souls will be glad to hide their heads, shortly, in these parts. Your candle and mine draws towards its end. The Lord graciously help us to shine in light and love universally, to all that fear his name, without that monopoly of the affection to such of our own persuasion only; for the common enemy, the Romish wolf, is very high in resolution, and hope, and advantage to make a prey on all, of all sorts, that desire to fear God. Divers of our neighbors thankfully re-salute you. We have buried, this winter, Mr. Olney’s son, whom, formerly, you heard to be afflicted with a lethargy. He lay two or three days wholly senseless, until his last groans. My youngest son, Joseph, was troubled with a spice of an epilepsy. We used some remedies, but it hath pleased God, by his taking of tobacco, perfectly, as we hope, to cure him. Good Mr. Parker, of Boston, passing from Prudence Island, at his coming on shore, on Seekonk land, trod awry upon a stone or stick, and fell down, and broke the small bone of his leg. He hath lain by of it all this winter, and the last week was carried to Boston in a horse litter. Some fears there were of a gangrene. But, Sir, I use too much boldness and prolixity. I shall now only subscribe myself,