It was a fortunate thing for the colonists that Roger Williams took this trouble. Otherwise he would not have been able to act as interpreter and peacemaker in after years, when Indian uprisings threatened the settlements. It is not an exaggeration to say that no one man prevented more bloodshed in early New England than Roger Williams.
The Indians, often suspicious and untrustworthy where other men were concerned, always showed a child-like confidence in their best friend. This was not because he “took sides” with them. Often he told them they were in the wrong and urged them to do the right thing by their white neighbors. It was the absolute justice and sincerity of Roger Williams that won their admiration. He could tell no lie. Of that they felt sure, so they accepted what he told them without argument or denial.
CHAPTER IV
THE WAR OF WORDS
Very little is known about Roger Williams’ home in Salem, beyond the fact that it was the former residence of Francis Higginson, a teacher of the Salem church. At his death, the house passed to Mrs. Higginson, but after occupying it but for a short time, she allowed her husband’s successor to take possession of it. Roger Williams probably bought it outright, for later he spoke of mortgaging it to raise needed funds. If it was like the usual Colonial dwelling of that day, it was plain and rather bare, but comfortable and roomy to a degree, after the early New England standard. A gabled roof, generous open fireplaces, and windows made up of many tiny panes of glass were its most conspicuous features.
As to the church in which Roger Williams preached, even less information has been gleaned than that relating to his home. For many years a tradition has persisted that it was a diminutive, raftered structure with steep-pitched roof and clay floor—the whole thing more nearly resembling a backwoods cabin than a place of worship. There is little reason to think that the Salem congregations—with whom church-going was a sacred duty—could have been housed in such a rude chapel, which was no larger than a good-sized room. Yet while the First Church was an improvement on this, it must have presented a striking contrast to the beautiful Old World cathedral churches, with which some of the parishioners were familiar.
Back in Salem, Roger Williams soon found himself in the midst of a war of words far more serious than any that had gone before. He was first called to account by the governor and his assistants for the pamphlet he had written in Plymouth declaring that the right of the Indians to the territory they occupied was greater than that of the King. Upon being censured for his opinions, Roger Williams was, for once, very humble. He said he had no intention of causing trouble and even went so far as to offer to burn a portion, or even the whole, of the book if the authorities so desired. The charge was dropped for the time being. His accusers “found the matters not to be so evil as at first they seemed.” Yet scarcely a year had passed before he was summoned to appear before the court for persisting “in teaching publicly against the King’s patent, and our great sin in claiming right thereby to this country.”
They were not always big questions that occupied the attention of New England congregations at this time. Roger Williams was guilty, with the others, of entering into lengthy discussions about what would seem to us to-day very unimportant trifles. He was no perfect hero, but had his faults and weaknesses, like the best of men. Some writers are of the opinion that he often argued merely for the sake of differing from others. We should be charitable to both him and his rigid neighbors, remembering the narrow age in which they lived.
Think of the absurdity of a whole community getting wildly excited over the question of women wearing veils in churches and other public places! Roger Williams attempted to show that no modest woman would appear with face uncovered. John Cotton, in an earnest sermon, taught just the opposite. John Endicott of course had a voice in the dispute—there were those who said he was the one who started it—and quoted much Scripture to show he was in the right. Finally, the governor himself had to step in and quiet them all. What a puzzling existence it must have been for the poor women of Salem! When their brilliant, learned ministers flatly contradicted one another, yet all took the Bible for authority, what course was open for a mere woman of ordinary intelligence?
The veil controversy was, without question, unimportant and even silly. Another matter now came up, which was somewhat more serious. John Endicott got into trouble because he cut the red cross of St. George out of the military colors. To him it was an anti-Christian sign that ought not to be retained by people who had broken away from symbols and ceremonies. The General Court punished him by depriving him of public office for a year. What had Roger Williams to do with it all? Absolutely nothing, as far as can be found out. Yet the blame has long rested on his shoulders, because, it was claimed, if he had not preached the doctrines he did, John Endicott would never have thought of such a thing!
Roger Williams was not regularly ordained until after the death of Mr. Skelton. Then, in defiance of the magistrates, who were greatly displeased, the Salem church welcomed him as pastor. The people to whom he ministered had something of his own courageous spirit in holding out for the appointment.