CHAPTER I
OUT OF THE SHADOWS
Tucked away in the northeastern corner of the United States is the tiny state of Rhode Island. “Little Rhody” she is often affectionately called, although her full name is “State of Rhode Island and Providence Plantations.” Such an overwhelming title for such a small body! Yet not only in length of name, but in the number of her capital cities, has Rhode Island led her sister states. Up to the year 1900 she boasted two capitals, while every other state in the Union was contented with one. From the beginning, Rhode Island has made up in interesting history what she has lacked in size.
Much of this history is hinted at in the names found within her borders. Take the name Providence, for example. It sounds as if it had a story back of it—as, indeed, it has. Other quaint and suggestive names are found in the streets of the capital—Benefit, Benevolent and Friendship—and in the islands in Narragansett Bay—Prudence, Patience, Hope.
Rhode Island’s story is largely that of Roger Williams, yet he was too great a man to belong to one bit of the country alone. He is one of the finest characters in United States history, though people were long in finding it out. Even to-day we do not always remember the noble services he rendered our country. Men who do spectacular things have many biographers, while quiet lives often remain unrecorded. We are apt to forget that it may take as much bravery to stand abuse and loss of friends as to face the cannon’s mouth, that even more courage is required to fight for disagreeable truths than to win battles. So while Roger Williams never did anything to startle the world, he will remain one of the great moral soldiers of all time. Lacking appreciation in the day in which he lived, he deserves the honor of our own age. It is time he came into his own.
The lives of most famous men begin with a fixed date. Stories of family and boyhood follow, with perhaps a clear description of the great man himself. In this respect, Roger Williams’ life is different from the others. We have not the faintest idea what he looked like—whether he was tall or short, stout or thin, dark or light, had blue eyes or brown. No true portrait of him has ever been discovered. The artists who have attempted to give us his likeness in bronze or marble or on canvas have had to idealize him.
Out of a shadowy past, largely from our own imagination, we must make up for ourselves a picture of his early days. Roger Williams has left a very scant account of his boyhood and he was too unpopular in the seventeenth century for others to take the trouble to record it. When later writers did so, they made many mistakes. This is not strange, as there were probably several persons by the name of Roger Williams living at the same time as our hero.
To begin with, the very date of Roger Williams’ birth is unknown. It is given by different historians anywhere between 1599 and 1607. In his own writings, Roger Williams referred once or twice to his age, but in such an indefinite way that we are led to think that he was not exactly sure of his birthday. Thus in a letter written to John Winthrop in 1632, he said he was “nearer upwards of thirty than twenty-five.” Again, in 1679, he said he was “near to fourscore years of age.” Even with the most careful arithmetic, we shall have to be content with the rather vague information that he was born near the beginning of the seventeenth century.
As to his birthplace, on this point also there has been much dispute. For many years it was thought to be Wales, but now it has been quite clearly proved that Roger Williams was born in London. The ancient court records that point to this fact show that James Williams was the father of Roger and a merchant tailor living in the parish of “St. Sepulchres, without Newgate, London.” He was apparently in comfortable circumstances, for his will provided not only for his wife and children, but directed that gifts of money and bread be distributed among the city poor.
Alice Williams, the mother of Roger, who survived her husband, owned or leased property in Cow Lane. In her will she mentioned four children—Sidrach, the oldest, Roger, “now beyond the seas,” Katherine, wife of John Davies, and Robert. To Roger she bequeathed ten pounds, or about fifty dollars, to be paid yearly for a term of twenty years.
The oldest boy of the family, Sidrach, after he grew up, became a merchant of Turkey and other southern countries of Europe. Roger Williams referred to him as follows: