This latter community was frequently subject to divisions and disputes, on those points of faith and discipline that each party regarded as all-important, but on the carrying out of which they could not agree; and a certain spirit of intolerance had already begun to show itself among them, which, in later times, ripened into actual cruelty and persecution.
The first instance of any display of this unchristian spirit with which our narrative is concerned, was the treatment of a young clergyman, named Roger Williams, who came over to New England several years after the emigration of the Pilgrim Fathers, when the renewed oppression of the Puritan ministers, by the English bishops, drove many of their number to seek a refuge in America. In the same year also arrived John Elliott, a man whose name is deservedly remembered and respected in New England, as standing conspicuous for zeal and virtue. So great and so successful were his labors among the native heathen, and so eminent were his piety and his self-denying charity, that he has been well named the 'Prince of Missionaries' and 'the Great Apostle of the Indians.'
The arrival of these holy and zealous—though somewhat eccentric—men, and of several others equally resolved to maintain the freedom of their religious views and practices, tended greatly to strengthen and establish the emigrants; and also added considerably to their comfort, as every settlement became provided with regular and authorized ministers of the gospel, and could enjoy all those religious privileges from which they had been so long debarred. But it must also be confessed that it became the source of much dissension and party feeling, and led to that display of bigotry and intolerance that eventually disgraced the Christian profession of the men of Massachusetts.[*]
[Footnote: The cruel fate of Mary Dyer, the Quaker, who was condemned to death by Governor Endicott, at Boston, is a lamentable instance of the narrow-minded and cruel policy of the rulers of that community. She was banished from the state, but 'felt a call' to return and rebuke the austerity of the men of Boston, and reprove them for their spiritual pride. She was accompanied by two friends, William Robinson and Marmaduke Stevenson, and all three were seized, imprisoned, and, after a summary trial, were sent to the gallows. The two men were executed; but at the moment when Mary Dyer was standing, calm and resigned, with the rope around her neck, expecting to be launched into eternity, a reprieve arrived, and the victim was released. But it was only for a little time. She was again banished; and again returned, as if to seek her fate. A second trial took place, and she was again condemned. Her husband, who knew not of her return to Boston until it was too late, appeared before the magistrates, and pleaded with all the eloquence of affection and anguish. But he wept and prayed in vain. His young and lovely wife was led to the scaffold, where she met her fate with a pious and even cheerful resignation; but her blood has left a dark stain on the history of the Church of Boston, that no time will ever efface. This dreadful event occurred about forty years after that period of which we are now treating.]
Roger Williams was a man comparatively unknown in his own country, but he was destined to exercise considerable influence in the land of his adoption, by his peculiar views of religious freedom which went far beyond those of the generality of his fellow Puritans. He desired to extend to others that liberty of conscience which he claimed as his own privilege, and for the attainment of which he had become a wanderer and an exile. But he soon found that many of his countrymen had forgotten in America the principles of spiritual freedom, for which they had so nobly contended in England, and were ready to employ against those who differed from them, the same 'carnal weapons' that had already driven them from their mother-country. His sufferings were indeed light, in comparison of those which were afterwards inflicted on the miserable Quakers by the government of Massachusetts; but still they were hard for flesh and blood to bear, and galling to a free spirit to receive from those who boasted of their own love of freedom.
Roger Williams was not more than thirty-two years of age when he arrived in New England. He had boldly separated himself from all communion with the high church of his native country; and, before he would attach himself to the Church of Boston, he demanded from its members a similar declaration of independence. The fathers of the colony were, however, by no means prepared to take so decided a step, which would lay them open to the attacks of the English hierarchy; and although a few years afterwards, when they could do it with less risk of punishment, they abjured all connection with the Church of England, yet they dared not at present give any countenance to such individual boldness as that which Williams had manifested. His uncompromising principles were, however, in unison with those of the Church of Salem; and he was invited by that community to be their teacher, as an assistant to their pastor, Skelton, whose health was then declining. The rulers of Boston were extremely indignant at this act of independence on the part of the Salemers; and they addressed to them a remonstrance, desiring them to take no such steps without the concurrence of the government of the state of Massachusetts. But the men of Salem did not withdraw their invitation, which was accepted by Roger Williams; and in a short time his piety, his eloquence, and the kind courtesy of his manners, gained for him the esteem and affection of the whole community.
He was not, however, permitted to remain in peace in his new home. The suspicion and ill-will of the Boston government followed him to Salem, and so greatly embittered his life, and interrupted his labors, that he found it expedient to withdraw to Plymouth, where he found employment as assistant to the regular pastor, Ralph Smith. His preaching caused great excitement in New Plymouth, from the fervor of his eloquence, and the freedom of his opinions, which aroused the sympathy of many of the Pilgrim Fathers. Governor Bradford was much interested by the young and enthusiastic minister; and he described him in his journal as 'a man full of the fear of God, and of zeal, but very unsettled in judgement.' Certainly, his opinions were peculiar, and his spirit bold and defying, to a degree that rather shocked and astonished the sober, severe, and exclusive men of Plymouth; but his sincere piety caused him to be respected, even by those who shrank from going such lengths as he did; and his engaging manners won the affection of all who were admitted to his intimacy.
One cause of the anger of the rulers of Boston against this energetic young man was an essay which he wrote and addressed to the Governor of Plymouth, in which he stated his conviction that 'the King of England had no right whatever to give away these lands on which they had settled; but that they belonged exclusively to the natives, and must be bought in by auction from them.' No one who entertains a sense of justice will now be disposed to object to this opinion; but it gave great offence to the government of Boston, and he was summoned before the general court, to answer to Governor Winthrop for having promulgated such notions. He did not, however, attempt to defend them, but good-humoredly declared that they were privately addressed to Bradford, who, with tin chief men of Plymouth, agreed with him in all the material points of his essay, and he offend to burn it if it had given offence at Boston. The subject was then dropped, and Williams returned to Plymouth, where he continued to reside for a considerable time.
During that period, he not only gained many friends among the inhabitants, but he also, by a constant intercourse with the Wampanoges and other neighboring tribes, obtained a considerable knowledge of their language and manners, and secured their veneration and love. This, as we shall have occasion to observe, proved afterwards of the greatest advantage to him.
But his own restless spirit was not satisfied with quietly discharging the duties of his office, and enjoying the society of his own countrymen and their Indian allies. Again he drew upon himself the wrath of the Boston Church, by openly stating his conviction that no civil government had a right to punish any individual for a breach of the Sabbath, or for any offence against either of the four commandments, or the first table. He maintained that these points should be left to the conscience alone; or, in the case of those who had agreed to a church covenant, to the authorities of the church. The civil magistrates he considered as only empowered to punish such violations of the law as interfered with the public peace. This unheard-of heresy against the principles by which the Bostoners were governed, was received with amazement and indignation: and, although they could not take any immediate measures to testify their displeasure, and to punish the offender, yet he thenceforth became the object of hatred and suspicion to the rulers, and they only waited for a fitting opportunity of openly manifesting it.