CHAPTER XIIITHE COMING OF THE QUAKERS
In the year 1656, Boston was in a fever of excitement. Some Quakers had come to town.
The sect had first put in an appearance in England under the teachings of one George Fox, an earnest, conscientious preacher who, at the early age of nineteen, had felt called upon to give up everything for religion. How his disciples came to receive their curious name is not positively known. One theory is that they were so-called because they were given to excitable, nervous tremblings, but the Quakers themselves have claimed a different origin. According to them, at one time whenMr.Fox was arrested and sent to prison in England, he called upon those around him to tremble at the word of the Lord. Thereupon the magistrate who pronounced the sentence bestowed the term “Quakers” upon hisfollowers. In any case, it was a nickname, a term of contempt in the seventeenth century, and did not then, as later, carry with it respect and honor.
But why should Massachusetts be alarmed at the coming of this people? Did she object to their habit of using “thee” and “thou” in ordinary speech? Did she consider that, by keeping their heads covered even in the presence of the authorities, they were lacking in proper respect? Or was it that their refusal to take up arms even in a just war was a dangerous doctrine? The Bay Colony doubtless disapproved of all these things. But there were other reasons—and stronger ones—why she frowned upon the newcomers.
First, the Quakers professed to be guided by an “inner light.” Whatever it directed them to do, or they thought it directed them to do, that they did, regardless of consequences. It was their sole authority, higher even than the commands of the Massachusetts magistrates and elders. The colony decided to put an end to such unheard-of thinking at once. They were all the moreresolved to do this because of the peculiar actions of the Quakers. A few misguided ones, professing to be led by this same “inner light,” did the most extravagant things in their zeal to spread their faith. They used rude, harsh language, they went about half-naked, were disorderly in the streets, and in other ways tried to attract attention. One Quaker even created a disturbance in a meeting-house in Boston. Entering with two bottles in his hands, he crashed them before the assembled congregation, crying, “Thus will the Lord break you in pieces!” In these frenzied disciples of Fox there was almost no resemblance to the quiet, respectable, inoffensive Friends of to-day.
If such outbreaks had occurred in other parts of New England, the offenders would have been punished—yes, even in the liberal colony planted by Roger Williams. For being annoyed, Massachusetts cannot be blamed. For resorting to the extreme measures she did in dealing with the followers of Fox, the Bay Colony had no excuse. It is one of the dark blots on her history.
The very year the Quakers appeared, a severe law was put into effect against them. It provided that all ship-masters bringing Quakers into the colony should be fined one hundred pounds and should give security to carry them back whence they came, that all persons of this belief should be committed to the House of Correction, first whipped and then kept hard at work until transported. In addition, a fine of five pounds was imposed for every Quaker book or writing found in the colony. The penalty for defending Quaker opinions was forty shillings for the first offence, four pounds for the second, and banishment for the third.
Calmly, unresistingly, the persecuted ones paid their fines, served their prison terms, allowed themselves to be banished, and—kept on doing the same things over and over again! Massachusetts did not realize in the least that she was using the very best means of encouraging the faith that she wished to stamp out. The Quakerswantedto be martyrs. They gloried in suffering and abuse. The more they were downtrodden, the more they increased and prospered.
Now we come to the part played by the little colony of Providence Plantations in the controversy. Roger Williams was still president when the severities of Massachusetts began. When banished from that colony, the Quakers had to seek a new home, of course. What more convenient or attractive refuge than that of Narragansett Bay, where liberty of worship was not considered a crime? So they flocked thither in increasing numbers.
Roger Williams’ great principle, upon which the colony was founded, was now put to a severe test, the most severe it had ever known. Hitherto, all pilgrims of whatever creed, or no creed at all, had been made heartily welcome. But would a like invitation be extended this strange, peculiar people, who were in disgrace everywhere else? The answer came boldly, courageously—yes.
The United Colonies decided it was their duty to show their liberal sister colony the error of her ways. The commissioners, therefore, informed her that as they considered they could not be too careful in preservingthemselves from such a pest as “Quakers, ranters, and such notorious heretics,” they would ask that all persons of the despised sect be removed from the Colony of Providence Plantations and in the future be prohibited from entering it.
The reply to this command was exactly what might be expected. Roger Williams’ term of office had expired, but his spirit was still in the air. In two letters the brave little colony placed herself on record as to the stand she took in regard to the unpopular Quakers.
“As concerning these Quakers which are now among us,” the first letter went on, “we have no law among us whereby to punish for only declaring by words, etc., their minds and understandings concerning the things and ways of God, as to salvation and an eternal condition.”
One shrewd bit of advice was also given, which the other colony might well have heeded. Providence Plantations pointed out that if no attention was paid the Quakers, they would quickly cease to be troublesome.
“And we moreover find,” the writers explained, “that in those places where these people aforesaid in this colony are most of all suffered to declare themselves freely and are only opposed by arguments in discourse, there they least of all desire to come, and we are informed that they begin to loathe this place, for that they are not opposed by the civil authority, but with all patience and meekness are suffered to say over their pretended revelations and admonitions, nor are they like or able to gain many here to their way; surely we find that they delight to be persecuted by civil powers, and when they are so, they are like to gain more adherents by the conceit of their patient sufferings than by consent to their pernicious sayings.”
In the second letter penned by Providence Plantations, the colony reminded the commissioners that she still prized “freedom of different consciences as the greatest happiness that men can possess in this world.” If the Quakers disturbed the civil peace, then, and then only, would interference be justified. In that case, the matter would be referredto England and the offenders be sent thither.
Statue of Roger Williams, Roger Williams Park
Statue of Roger Williams, Roger Williams Park, Providence
The United Colonies then replied, hinting that Providence Plantations would be cut off from all trade if disobedience was persisted in. After this threatened boycott, the colonists concluded it was wise to take some steps for protecting themselves, but recede from their position they would not. They therefore sent a letter to their good friend and agent in England, John Clarke, asking that he use his influence in their behalf.
“They seem secretly to threaten us,” the letter ran, “by cutting us off from all commerce and trade with them.... They make the prices, both of our commodities and their own also, because we have not English coin, but only that which passeth among these barbarians and such commodities as are raised by the labor of our hands, as corn, cattle, tobacco, and the like, to make payment in, which they will have at their own rate, or else not deal with us.
“So may it please you to have an eye and care open in case our adversaries should seekto undermine us in our privileges granted unto us and to plead our case in such sortas we may not be compelled to exercise any civil power over men’s consciences, so long as humane orders in point of civility are not corrupted and violated.”
Brave, ringing words, that deserve to be written in letters of gold!
Massachusetts, meanwhile, continued in her unfortunate course, which, happily, the other colonies did not follow so severely. Imprisonment, fines, and banishment were followed by physical mutilation. As a final step, profession of the Quaker faith was made a capital offence. This law was not popular with the people at large, who were far more tender-hearted than their magistrates. Very few received this extreme sentence. The only woman to pay the death penalty was Mary Dyre, wife of one of the leading citizens of Providence Plantations, who refused to keep out of the forbidden territory.
In 1661, Charles II, then the reigning monarch of England, issued a decree putting a stop to further persecution. Thusclosed the five dreadful years of Quaker punishment in New England.
The Quakers, let alone, became useful and respected citizens and contributed a large share toward the well-being of the communities in which they lived. In the colony of Providence Plantations, they steadily gained followers and for over one hundred years took an active part in public affairs. They occupied positions of prominence and influence, especially in Newport. For five years, beginning 1672, Rhode Island had a succession of Quaker governors.
The noble part played by the colony in the dark days of Quaker history was due, in large part, to the teachings of Roger Williams. The stand taken by him and his fellow colonists deserves all the more credit because, personally, they disliked and disapproved of the Quakers. How easy, then, it would have been to inflict punishment upon them and to have found a perfectly good excuse for so doing!
Roger Williams wrote John Winthrop, Jr., his Connecticut correspondent, that he rejoiced the latter’s name was not blurred butrather honored, for his prudent and moderate hand in the Quaker trials.
For a moment we must skip a few years to the date 1672, which brings us to the last chapter of Quaker history which has to do with Roger Williams. In view of that part of the story that has gone before, the admirers of the great man are a bit sorry that this chapter ever had to be written. It happened when George Fox, the noted leader of the Quakers, visited the colony. Roger Williams promptly challenged him to a debate, religious discussions of this kind being very common in that day. Failing to make arrangements to carry out this plan, he debated with three of Fox’s most capable disciples instead. They argued three days in Newport and one day in Providence. In order to reach the first debating-place, Roger Williams rowed all the way from Providence to Newport, a distance of thirty miles. It was an all day’s work—no small task for a man about seventy years of age.
The meeting was a heated one. Nearly every one lost his temper and even RogerWilliams was unlike his usual kindly, charitable self. Nobody’s opinion was changed and both sides claimed the victory. Each published a book presenting long, dry, uninteresting arguments. That of Roger Williams was entitled “George Fox digged out of his Burrows,” while the Quaker volume was called “A New England Firebrand Quenched.”
Whatever may be thought about Roger Williams’ part in these proceedings, he himself thought he was doing the colony a service by arguing the matter in public. It was probably his purpose to show that the community did not approve of disorder and disrespect of the authorities. He maintained that it was not persecution to punish moderately for such disrespect and grotesque offences as had marked the advent of the Friends in Massachusetts.
In spite of his views concerning the early Quakers, Roger Williams numbered among his friends many of this faith. He never allowed his prejudices to govern him in his dealings with them. Best of all—and to hislasting glory be it said—he never lifted a finger against them, and no page of the history of the colony he founded is stained with Quaker blood.