Occupying a central place on the dark canvas is a Puritan of the Puritans—intellectual, proud, superior. There is no mistaking him—John Cotton, of whom we have had a glimpse before. His mouth seems about to open, so eager is he for a learned argument. He is the exact opposite of Roger Williams and the two men are to be pitted against each other all their lives. The title of “unmitered pope of New England” will be given him by future generations. Like his opponent, he follows what he believes to be the path of right, but whereas with Roger Williams it leads to liberty, with John Cotton it leads to persecution. We pass to the next portrait with a sigh of relief.
Thomas Hooker, also the friend of early days, comes next. Milder, less learned, perhaps, than John Cotton, he still has a reputation for able argument. He is to labor long and earnestly to make the mischief-maker see the error of his ways.
Governor Bradford of Mayflower fame, dignified and scholarly, comes next in order. There is nothing of the tyrant in his make-up. While believing Roger Williams “unsettled in judgment,” he is just enough to say that he is “a man godly and zealous, having many precious parts.” Though he does not entirely approve of him, he is “thankful to him, even for his sharpest admonitions and reproofs so far as they agree with truth.”
We linger long upon the next portrait—a kindly face, that of a good friend. It is another governor of Plymouth, Edward Winslow. Fortunate, indeed, is Roger Williams to have this “great and pious soul” interested in him. Dark days are ahead and his friendship—not to mention a welcome piece of gold for needed family provisions—will not come amiss.
We hardly believe that Elder Brewster, the next in line, could bring himself to do so gracious a deed. His conscience is too sensitive. Thankful enough is he that the call to the Salem church will prevent the further spreading of “dangerous” doctrine in Plymouth. It is the part of prudence to bid Roger Williams Godspeed.
Who is that eager, restless person who occupies the next place—whose flashing eyes and open face tell as plainly as words that he is the creature of impulse? He is always doing hasty things, being sorry for them, and then doing the next hasty thing that presents itself! Big-hearted, reckless, courageous, narrow John Endicott! It is no wonder he is often in disgrace. Let us not forget that more than once he champions the cause of Roger Williams.
The finest Puritan of them all comes last, Governor John Winthrop of the Bay Colony. A splendid, noble face is his. He is every inch a gentleman. He has brought the best of old England into the crude life of New England and is helping to build up so sturdy a race that the generations which follow will be proud of their descent from him and Puritans like him. He does not agree with Roger Williams, but a life-long friendship springs up between the two. “Mr. John Winthrop,” said the younger man, “tenderly loved me to his last breath.” Many of the quaint, old-fashioned letters addressed to the Bay governor have come down to us. “I sometimes fear,” says the writer, “that my lines are as thick and over-busy as the mosquitoes.” He discusses religious questions, talks over Indian troubles and asks Winthrop’s advice, because, says he, “of the frequent experience of your loving ear, ready and open toward me.”
These, then, were a few of Roger Williams’ neighbors. There were still other neighbors, who were friends as well. These were the New England Indians. From the very beginning of his new life in America, Roger Williams had taken a deep interest in them. For one thing, he held that as they were the first-comers, the land belonged to them and could not be rightly owned by others, except by purchase. It is true that most of the colonists did pay for the territory they occupied whatever the natives thought it was worth, yet as soon as Roger Williams gave his opinion on the subject, he was accused of disloyalty. It was one thing to bargain with the savages, quite another to announce boldly that James, who granted the first New England charter, was not “sovereign lord” of the whole continent, and that those who claimed land merely by royal grant had no title to it whatever.
In spite of opposition, Roger Williams had the courage of his convictions. He wrote a treatise on the subject which he sent to the governor and council of Plymouth.
No portion of Roger Williams’ life is more interesting than that which deals with the red men. The Wampanoags or Pokanokets, whose chief was Massasoit, occupied the Plymouth territory, while to the west were the powerful Narragansetts, whose sachems were Canonicus and Miantonomo. To gain the friendship of the Indians, Roger Williams endured all kinds of hard and unpleasant experiences, for his “soul’s desire was to do the natives good.” He visited them, he encouraged their visiting him, he patiently studied their language. To quote his own words: “God was pleased to give me a painful, patient spirit to lodge with them in their filthy, smoky holes (even while I lived at Plymouth and Salem) to gain their tongue.”