It is painful to record, that at this time the New England Colonies tightened rather than relaxed the reins of their intolerance, under cover of alarm at irreligion and sectarianism. It may be pleaded that some religionists who then bore the name of Baptists and Quakers were very troublesome people, and that they held opinions which were calculated to disturb civil society; but it should be remembered that a similar plea has never been wanting when the cause of persecution has required to be bolstered up; and it is a policy as mischievous as it is unrighteous for the friends of religious freedom to employ in their own cause the despicable weapons of their antagonists. Why not let the rulers of Massachusetts bear the deserved discredit of their inconsistencies? And why conceal the fact that those inconsistencies arose out of the pursuance of a perfectly self-chosen course? Neither the Government just before, nor the Government after the establishment of the Protectorate, had anything whatever to do with the matter. Not at the door of Whitehall, but on the threshold of Boston lies the responsibilty of the atrocious deed of hanging Mary Dyar, Marmaduke Stephenson, and William Robinson.
Speaking generally as to religious and secular interests, we may safely say that the New England Colonies confided in Cromwell, and Cromwell confided in them. When the Lord General had been fighting at the head of his soldiers, "the spirits of the brethren" on the other side of the Atlantic "were carried forth in faithful and affectionate prayers in his behalf;" and when sitting peacefully in his cabinet, he poured out his heart freely to his friends who were busy on the opposite side of the world, he candidly confessed that the battle of Dunbar, "'where some who were godly' were fought into their graves, was of all the acts of his life, that on which his mind had the least quiet, and he declared himself 'truly ready to serve the brethren and churches in America.'"[506] About two years before the death of Oliver Cromwell, Captain Gookin, a home official in New England, wrote to Thurloe, telling him that "the generality of the godly in all the country did cordially resent his Highness's goodwill, favour, and love," and did "unfeignedly bear upon their hearts before the Lord, him, his work, and helpers." The zealous officer added that he had ground for thinking so. "All the English Colonies"—these are his words—"will see cause, in particular letters of thanks, to manifest their duty and special respects to his Highness."[507]
Rhode Island.
The Colony of Rhode Island chose a path of its own, not having been admitted to the New England Confederation, because of its refusal to acknowledge the jurisdiction of New Plymouth. The eccentric but noble-minded founder of the Colony was Roger Williams, who had been banished from Massachusetts for his very broad ecclesiastical and political opinions. He proceeded in a canoe with five other persons down the Seekonk River, in quest of a spot where he could carry out his independent and democratical principles; and tradition reports, that, as he approached a point now called Whatcheer Cove, he met with a party of Indians, who greeted him with a friendly salutation in the very words which gave the cove its well-known name, "What cheer?" Rather Utopian in his ideas, and impracticable in his disposition—not fitted to work well in a colony already established, and not promising much stability, even in one which he established himself—Roger Williams nevertheless commands very great respect for his intellectual ability, his literary attainments, his spirit of self-sacrifice, and his intense abhorrence of all persecution. There were numerous religious differences, and, consequently, plenty of confusion in the island home of this remarkable individual and his sympathetic companions; but within its shores no penalties whatever were inflicted upon any class of religious professors. And notwithstanding his enthusiasm in the cause of freedom, he did not become blind to the necessities of government in the maintenance of social order. He ingeniously argued, that a ship at sea, carrying on board several hundred souls who were bound together by the interests of a common weal and woe, presented a just illustration of a commonwealth; and that as Papists and Protestants, Jews and Turks, sailing in a vessel, ought not to be forced to join in the captain's prayers, so people ought not to be coerced into national forms of religion; but, at the same time, as the captain ought to command the ship's course, and maintain justice, peace, and sobriety amongst the crew, so ought the magistrate to judge and punish such people as injured their neighbours by resisting the civil government of the State.[508]
Williams came to London, in the year 1643, to seek the favour and protection of Parliament. Conscious weakness induced him then to do that which his old companions in New England afterwards declined in consequence of conscious strength. The "printed Indian labours" of this indefatigable person,—the like whereof respecting anyone in America, it is said, was not extant—and his singular merits as a Christian missionary, induced "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;" and hence they became a legalized corporation on the shores of Narragansett Bay, invested with full authority to rule themselves.[509] Williams visited England, a second time, upon Colonial business, and then, as before, received special assistance from Vane—assistance acknowledged in a Colonial address, (1654), which summed up the history of this free little Republic. "From the first beginning of the Providence Colony," it was said, "you have been a noble and true friend to an outcast and despised people; we have ever reaped the sweet fruits of your constant loving-kindness and favour. We have long been free from the iron yoke of wolfish bishops; we have sitten dry from the streams of blood spilt by the wars in our native country. We have not felt the new chains of the Presbyterian tyrants, nor in this Colony have we been consumed by the over zealous fire of the so-called godly Christian magistrates. We have not known what an excise means, we have almost forgotten what tithes are. We have long drunk of the cup of as great liberties as any people, that we can hear of under the whole heaven. When we are gone, our posterity and children after us shall read, in our town records, your loving-kindness to us, and our real endeavour after peace and righteousness."[510]
Barbadoes.
Upon the abolition of Royalty in England, certain of the Colonies became refractory. Parliament heard, on the 5th of October, 1650, that, inasmuch as many well-affected persons had been driven away from Barbadoes, the Council of State was of opinion that the island should be reduced, and a fleet sent thither for that purpose.[511] Whereupon an Act was passed prohibiting trade with the plantation there, and with the sister States, who were sharers in the disaffection—including Virginia, Bermudas, and Antigua—and empowering the Council to bring them all into speedy subjection to the authority of the Commonwealth.[512] Sir George Ayscue, commander of a ship called the Rainbow, conducted a fleet into the Western seas, taking with him as brother Commissioners, Daniel Searle and Captain Michael Pack, whose instructions were, to insist upon the submission of the inhabitants of Barbadoes, to enforce there the Acts of Parliament against Kingship, the House of Lords, and the use of the Book of Common Prayer, and to require every person in the Colonies to take the Engagement.[513] A summons to surrender to the Commonwealth reached Lord Willoughby, the Governor of Barbadoes, accompanied by an assurance that the Commissioners wished by "amicable ways" to bring the Colony to obedience, without bloodshed, or the destruction of "their long laboured for estates."[514] But the representative body in the State expressed indignation at this endeavour to persuade the ignorant, that the Government now set up in England by miseries, bloodsheds, rapines, and other oppressions, was any better than that under which their ancestors had lived for hundreds of years; and further they declared how they despised all "menaces to drive them from their loyalty," to which their souls were as firmly united as they were to their bodies.[515] Abundance of parleying succeeded, and once, when Ayscue's men were invited on shore, "with a white flag," they were fired upon; in revenge for which act of treachery they burnt the houses of their assailants—a proceeding in positive opposition to Sir George's explicit orders.[516] At last, in midwinter, after three months had been spent in fruitless negotiation, proposals of peace from Lord Willoughby reached Ayscue on board the Rainbow, which was now anchored in Carlisle Bay. Articles specifying the terms of an acceptable surrender were returned to Willoughby, conceding to the Colonists indemnity for their past resistance, and, for the future, the right of taxation, and other important political privileges. With respect to higher interests, the articles distinctly stated that no oaths, covenants, or engagements, should be imposed upon the inhabitants against their convictions, and that liberty of conscience should be allowed to all—"excepting to such whose tenets are inconsistent to a civil government."[517] But, strange to say, in another and corrected paper, sent a few days afterwards, the articles relating to oaths and to liberty of conscience are altogether omitted; yet, still more strange, after this, Willoughby replied to Ayscue, that the articles in this latter were the same in effect as had been previously received. At last the latter agreed to the first propositions made by the former—namely, that the Government should remain as already established—that all Acts passed in the Colony previously to the year 1638, and not being repugnant to the present laws of England, should continue in force, and that those concerning present differences should be repealed. In the final arrangement between the Governor and the Commissioner no stipulation appears to have been made touching matters of religion. Such matters were left to shape themselves according to circumstances. The use of the Prayer Book was neither expressly forbidden nor expressly allowed. Liberty of conscience was neither secured nor denied in distinct terms. Nothing was agreed upon which could interfere with the subsequent legislation of the Colony in relation to ecclesiastical matters, except a general implication that all enactments in the future, as well as those in the past, would be utterly invalid if they were found at all repugnant to the laws of the mother empire.[518] We find eighteen months afterwards, the next Governor, Colonel Daniel Searle, complaining of "unsatisfied" and "restless spirits" who, not content with the Constitution of England, would model "this little limb of the Commonwealth into a free state." He further informed the Council that in consequence of "some lately brought under the ordinance of baptism in a Church society"—by which expression, doubtless, Baptists are intended—having forwarded to England a remonstrance concerning the Colonial Assembly, that Assembly had desired that these remonstrants might be dismissed from public employment in the island; but Governor Searle gave reasons in detail why he could not comply with any such desire.[519]
Virginia.
As Ayscue steered towards Barbadoes, Captain Robert Dennis sailed to Virginia, for the reduction of the plantations in Chesapeake Bay.[520] No sooner did his ship, the Guinea frigate, heave in sight, than the Virginians abandoned all thoughts of resistance, and instantly came to terms. Like the Commissioners to the royalist colony of Barbadoes, Captain Dennis and his colleagues were charged by written instructions—amongst other things, to publish in Virginia the Acts of Parliament against Kingship, the House of Lords, and the Book of Common Prayer. But it would appear that, upon submission by the Colonists to the powers at St. Stephen's and Whitehall, the execution of the Act in reference to religion came to be waived in America, as it had been waived in the West Indies. Indeed, in this case, Episcopal worship was expressly allowed for one year, on condition of all public allusions to monarchy being omitted in prayer. The clergy remained undisturbed, and were entitled to their accustomed dues for that space of time. Nor was there to be any censure for loyal supplications and speeches which might be uttered in private houses. Indeed, during the whole term of the Protectorate, Episcopal rites seem to have been continued in Virginia;[521] and the Home Government does not appear to have stained its character by any acts of persecution in that Colony, or in Barbadoes. It is curious to add that, as tobacco was the chief produce and the main staple of Virginia, it became used in the payment of taxes, of penalties, and of privileges. All titheable parishioners, "in the vacancy of their minister," were notwithstanding, to pay, per head, fifteen pounds of tobacco towards a church-building "and glebe" fund; Sabbath breakers and drunkards incurred a fine of one hundred pounds of tobacco; persons introducing ministers into the Colony at their own charge, were to receive, for so doing, the sum of twenty pounds sterling by bill of exchange, or two thousand pounds weight of tobacco.[522]
The Bermudas became an asylum for Royalists at the end of the Civil Wars. A patent had been granted by King James for a Company there, so early as the year 1615; and, until 1653, this Company and the Colonial Council appointed by it were permitted to continue. But in the midst of the troubles at home, the Company neglected to consult the Council; the Colony suffered great distress; and "turbulent spirits," by their reports to the Home Authorities, prejudiced them against the Local Administration. Report reached head quarters that the Governor of Bermudas wished to "invite Charles Stuart to take possession" of the territory; and, therefore, in the year 1653, certain trustworthy Commonwealth's men received a commission to govern affairs in the islands with the same powers and privileges as the Old Company had enjoyed. But, in the year 1656, Colonel Owen Rowe wrote home, complaining that the former Government, standing upon the foundation of James the First's patent, had refused to acknowledge the New Commission. It had gone so far as to declare Charles' execution "bloody, traitorous, and rebellious;" to proclaim his son as Charles II.; and to avow a determination to be ruled only by laws which were sanctioned by the Crown. These bold Royalists enforced the oath of supremacy, imprisoned such as refused it, and banished Independents who sympathized with the regicides. The Council of State, however, persevered in efforts to secure subjugation, feeling the importance of the islands to the Commonwealth, and fearing lest the Spaniards might endeavour to get a footing in them. Captain Wilkinson, commander of the chief castle in the Colony, was strongly urged to attend to his duties, and to keep a watchful eye upon the malignant party. Petitions from the inhabitants to the Lord Protector arrived a few months before his decease, stating that "the people were naked for want of clothing, naked to their enemies for want of ammunition, and further destitute for want of godly teachers"—ministers having received no salary for years past. Only a few days after Cromwell had expired another petition appeared, complaining of the disaffection of Deputy-Governor Sayle, and describing him as a Royalist, as one who condemned the late King's execution, and as an intimate friend of Colonial rebels, and of scandalous ministers.[523]