“Well,” answered one of the chieftains, “let them come. We are ready for them. But as for you, Brother Williams, you are a good man. You have been kind to us many years. Not a hair of your head shall be touched.”
Quaker Rhode Island at last woke up and paid some attention to the question of defence. It was all very well to hold theories about the wickedness of war, but these ideas did not insure safety for one’s family or keep the natives at bay. The colony records show that closely following the attack upon Providence, a boat patrol was organized, a garrison provided, and ammunition ordered. Care was taken that the duties of the commander in charge should not interfere with “Captain Williams’ power in the exercise of the train band.”
Canonchet was captured in April. He was surprised by some Connecticut men and friendly Indian allies, and, in attempting to escape by wading a river, slipped and fell an easy prey to a waiting Pequot on the opposite bank. He was taken captive to Connecticut. As his father Miantonomo had lost his life at the hands of Uncas, so now the son owed his death to Uncas’ son. In many ways the earlier tragedy was enacted over again. Canonchet showed the same disdainful pride that Miantonomo had displayed. In answer to an Englishman who questioned him, he replied scornfully, “You much child! No understand matters of war! Let your brother or chief come. Him I will answer!” Being told that he must die, he said calmly, “I like it well; I shall die before my heart is soft, or I have said anything unworthy of myself.”
The tide had turned. It needed now but a final struggle to convince the natives they were fighting against hopeless odds. Philip’s wife and son were taken captive in the summer. Soon afterwards, a decisive battle took place near Mount Hope on August 12th. Philip, betrayed by one of his men, was killed. This ended the war.
The citizens of Providence came back to their partly burned town and took up their daily duties once more, but with a greater sense of security. Providence, son of Roger Williams, took his mother home from Newport in a sloop that belonged to him.
The Wampanoags were nearly exterminated, while scarcely a hundred Narragansetts survived. Captives were sold into slavery, either at home or abroad. With this fate in store, Philip’s young son of nine years was shipped to Bermuda.
The buying and selling of Indians was allowed even within the borders of liberal Rhode Island. The people of that day were not so enlightened as their descendants of a later age and saw no wrong in such a proceeding. Then, too, they doubtless looked upon the subjection of the red men as a means of safety. Yet this colony was far more humane than her neighbors. The inhabitants passed a law prohibiting Indian slavery for life and those unfortunate warriors who were held as bondmen served a limited term of years only.
CHAPTER XVI
BACK TO THE SHADOWS
After King Philip’s War, Roger Williams, now an old man, gradually disappeared from public view. Only now and then do we obtain fleeting glimpses of these last years. We know that at one time he was elected assistant, but declined to serve. This by no means meant that his interest in the colony had ceased, but rather that the burden of years and physical ills had reduced his strength and endurance. He still followed closely the course of events and whenever a word from him could further the cause of right, his voice was heard with all its old-time vigor.
One of the last acts of his life was to write an earnest letter to the town of Providence upholding the just levying of taxes. Clearly, logically, he explained to the inhabitants the necessity of supporting government and order, as they tended to the peace and good of mankind. He also reminded them how fortunate they were to live under such a charter as they possessed, for, said he, “Our charter excels all in New England, or in the world, as to the souls of men.”