Roger Williams

by May Emery Hall

And all the time he could not help but “suspect that all the fine words from the Indian sachems to us were but words of policy, falsehood and treachery.” His fears were well grounded. No sooner had the Massachusetts men started on their homeward journey than one hundred armed Narragansetts appeared in Warwick and terrified the town. Warning was received, too, from Pessicus that the English in the Narragansett country would do well to be on their guard and to keep strict watch. If they could strongly fortify one or two houses, so much the better; if not, then flight was their only course.

It was plain that the Narragansetts could be held in leash no longer. The call of their Indian allies—blood of their blood—completely drowned out the gentle voice of Roger Williams. The prayer of Canonicus—yes, and of Massasoit, too—that their children after them might live in love and peace with the English forever was not to be realized. Sadly the best friend the Narragansetts ever had was forced to confess that the tribe must be subdued as wolves who have attacked sheep.

Meanwhile, the settlement of Swansea, near the boundary line between Rhode Island and Plymouth, had been ravaged by Philip’s men and several persons killed and wounded. The war then spread with lightning rapidity through the different towns of Massachusetts. Connecticut, too, was invaded, for the Indians of the Connecticut River had thrown themselves into the struggle. Rhode Island as a colony kept out of the war, but she was not allowed to remain untouched. The Narragansett country became, in turn, a battle-ground in the winter of 1675.

The Narragansetts were accused by the English of having sheltered Philip’s people, and, as some of the young braves now and then returned to their homes wounded, it was considered proof that they had, too, been on the war-path. Massachusetts, Plymouth and Connecticut decided to break the power of the Narragansetts before they could join Philip in the spring. They therefore raised a strong force of over a thousand men and, strengthened by Rhode Island volunteers, marched to a point in the neighborhood of what is now South Kingston.

The Indians had stoutly intrenched themselves in a fort in the midst of a treacherous swamp. Here, on a bleak, freezing December day, a desperate battle, commonly known as the “Great Swamp Fight,” was fought to a bitter end. It was the dreadful massacre of Fort Mystic all over again. As in the Pequot War of forty years before, the attacking party forced an entrance into the fort and completed their work of destruction by fire. Exposure and cold, added to the flames, reduced the Indians quickly. They sacrificed several hundred—either slain outright or taken prisoners—but the English also suffered severe losses.

Though the spirit of the Narragansetts was broken, the people of the mainland towns were greatly alarmed. The General Assembly, meeting at Newport in the spring of 1676, urged them to give up their homes and take refuge on the Island of Rhode Island. Newport and Portsmouth generously offered land for planting and even proclaimed that the new-comers, “so wanting a liberty, shall have a cow kept upon the commons.” Many families accepted the invitation with haste and thankfulness. The protected stretch of land in Narragansett Bay became a perfect isle of refuge. The entire town of Warwick moved thither and remained until the war was over. It was the safest thing that could be done, for shortly afterwards, the settlement was practically burned to the ground. Only one dwelling remained standing.

Many Providence people emigrated also, including Mrs. Williams. Of the five hundred inhabitants, less than thirty remained behind. Prominent in the list of those “who stayed and went not away,” is the name of Roger Williams. He did not know the meaning of fear and preferred to defend his city rather than join the fugitives on the island. He had not been able to turn aside the savage tide of fury and hate, but at least he could stem it as far as possible. Though over seventy years old, he accepted a commission as captain and faithfully drilled the few defenders under his command. In addition, he started a subscription list to pay for fortifying a house and building a second defence and himself pledged the largest sum of all—ten pounds. And he was far from being a rich man, too.

On March 29, 1676, the city was attacked by the Indians and twenty-nine dwellings burned. The following tradition shows that even at this late hour Roger Williams attempted to change the will of the savages.

Leaning on his staff, he went to the heights at the north of the town to meet them and reason with them as he had done so many times in the past.

“Massachusetts,” said he, “can raise thousands of men at this moment, and if you kill them, the King of England will supply their places as fast as they fall.”