The Rise and Fall of Religious Liberty in America
By C. M. S.
The Laity Revolt in Massachusetts
PERSONAL experience and the history of all civilized lands teach that the kindness of Jesus is banished from the creed of a church united to the state. Jesus said, “If any man hear my words, and believe not, I judge him not.” The church-and-state régime says, “If any man believe not, he is a heretic, a blasphemer, a dangerous character, a criminal.” The gospel of Jesus and the policy of enforced religion are thus seen to be utterly opposed to each other. And that is why the enlightened consciences of the laity have so often been in opposition to the determined policy of the clergy. The latter, when wedded to the theocratic idea, have considered no punishment too severe to use in bolstering up the foundation of such a government, and have used the influence of their position to steel the hearts of their parishioners against every feeling of sympathy, even with the bodily sufferings of the excommunicated, and even to turn the hearts of the parents against children, and the hearts of the children against parents, when they have feared the effect of opinions not in harmony with their creed. That policy was carried out in New England until there came an uprising of the people themselves that shook the hierarchy to its foundations, and ushered in a day of better things. The conditions were these: The Congregational Church was made the established church; it was supported by public taxation; all, whether belonging to that church or not, or whether belonging to any church or not, must pay their proportion to the support of that establishment; attendance at church was compulsory under pain of a heavy fine; no work must be performed, no traveling done, on Sunday; no one must express an opinion contrary to the opinions propounded from the pulpit, under pain of fine, whipping, banishment, or even death; one man in ten was a “tithing man,” whose duty it was to see to it that the other nine attended to their religious duties; no church could be built without the consent of the state officials, and the state officials were the creatures of the state church; no one was allowed to hold meetings in his own home; in short, the state was under the complete domination of the church, and that church proposed to permit the existence of nothing within the jurisdiction of that state which was not under church control. No sooner had the church-state entered upon the carrying out of its purpose, than the cruel and necessary result of its premises began to appear. It is true that the large majority of those within the fold felt it necessary to their religious loyalty to steel their hearts against the expression of any sympathy with those who suffered. It is equally true that in those very religious bodies there were those who did sympathize with the oppressed, sometimes openly, but more often in silence, feeling the uselessness of protest. In calling attention to the following incidents, it is not the writer’s purpose to heap contempt upon men, but to show the evil results of the course which they took. In the year 1644 the general court of Massachusetts ordered that if any should oppose the baptism of infants, or attempt to seduce others to a disbelief in that practise, “every such person or persons shall be sentenced to banishment.” While expressing the sentiments of the power-blinded clergy, that law seems to have been unpopular; for in the year following its passage a number of merchants and others petitioned to have the law repealed, “because of the offense taken thereat by the godly in England.” The court seemed inclined to accede, but the clergy opposed, and the court did nothing. The colony’s agent in England in 1646, realizing the disapprobation of the home government toward the persecutions in the Massachusetts Bay Colony, attempted to apologize for his constituency in these words: “It is true that we have a severe law, but we never did or will execute the rigor of it upon any. . . . But the reason whereof we are loath either to repeal or alter the law is, because we would have it . . . to bear witness against their judgment, . . . which we conceive . . . to be erroneous.” It is true that at that time no one had been banished; but a Mr. Painter “for refusing to let his child be baptized,” was brought before the court, and “sentenced to be whipped, which he bore without flinching, and boasted that God had assisted him.” The unmerciful whipping received by Mr. Obadiah Holmes of Rhode Island for the terrible crime of ministering to the spiritual needs of one of his brethren (a Baptist) in Massachusetts, was not without its effect in strengthening the opposition to religious persecution in that State. Like his divine Master, Obadiah Holmes prayed for his persecutors while they were laying the cutting strokes of a three-thonged whip upon his bleeding5back. The record of it states that he was whipped with “such horrible severity that it was many days before he could endure to have his lacerated back touch the bed, and he rested propped upon his hands and knees; . . . and his dignity and courage so impressed the people that, in spite of the danger, numbers flocked about him when he was set free, in sympathy and admiration.” In spite of the penalties suffered, the spirit of independence in “religious concernments” continued to grow. This was manifest in such incidents as the formation of a separate church by one Thomas Gould of Charlestown, because of the perpetual annoyance of the officials of the established church. For this crime of organizing an independent church, Gould was summoned to appear and listen to a setting forth of his sins. He was so strongly denounced by the minister of the church from which he had withdrawn, that “many of the people went out; and these were the excommunicated persons.” The court took the matter up, convicted the “sectaries” of schism, and ordered them “to be imprisoned until further notice.” They were fined four pounds and kept in confinement from April until October, when the legislature ordered them to be discharged upon payment of fines and costs. A few years earlier they would not have escaped so easily; but the leaven of a spiritual unrest—the unrest of the soul in confinement—was working among the people. The imprisonment and punishment of these “sectaries” not only did not cause them to recant, but “persecution added to their numbers.” On March 27, 1668, this same Thomas Gould with two others, styled by the hierarchy “obstinate and turbulent Anabaptists,” were banished under pain of perpetual imprisonment. They determined to stay and face their fate, were imprisoned, and kept in prison for more than a year. But the cruelty of their treatment was appealing to the people. A feeling of indignation and of sympathy was aroused, and sixty-six of the most influential inhabitants of Charlestown petitioned the legislature for mercy on behalf of the sufferers. Their petition was couched in humble and respectful language; but the document was voted “scandalous and reproachful,” and the two chief promoters were censured and admonished, and fined ten and five pounds respectively; the others were made to sign a paper expressing their sorrow “for giving the court such just ground of offense.” The matter was next taken up in England, and thirteen of the most influential dissenting ministers in London (the Congregationalists themselves, in England, were dissenters) wrote the ministers of New England, begging that they exercise moderation lest the dissenters in England should be caused to suffer through retaliation. This plea of their own brethren was likewise disregarded, and the three prisoners were kept in jail. After their release, they were again arrested, and treated with the utmost rigor, and at least one of them is said to have died in prison. While the hierarchy was thus tightening its grip on the cords of oppression, the loyalty of the people was drifting away from their oppressive leaders. These fearless Christian men, by their very sufferings, were teaching the people that the course of the church-state party was out of harmony with the gospel of Jesus Christ. The sufferings of the Quakers, as well as of the Baptists, were appealing to the magnanimity and sympathy of the people and helping to win their loyalty away from the hierarchy. After four Quakers had paid with their lives for exercising the rights of conscience, the popular indignation rose to such a pitch that it was deemed inexpedient to carry out the death sentence upon Wenlock Christison. After two years, however, a letter from the king confirming the Massachusetts charter, excluded the Quakers from the general toleration, and the old spirit of oppression against them was revived. They did not dare to put them to death, but adopted what some historians have called “a humaner policy;” that is to say, they were tied to a cart’s tail and whipped through three towns; and this barbarous decree was carried out upon women naked to the waist in the severest winter weather. While these condemned persons were not condemned to death, there is no doubt that many of them would have perished under the terrible scourgings, had not the people interfered. They were sentenced under the Vagabond Act, which would seem to have been invented for use against them particularly. Under its provisions any foreign Quaker, or any native Quaker upon a second conviction, might be ordered to receive an unlimited number of stripes, which were laid on with a two-handed whip armed with lashes made of twisted and knotted cord or catgut. During the autumn following the enactment of this decree, it was found expedient to discontinue it; but it was again revived ten months later. After the death of Governor Endicott in 1665, a period of tranquillity for the oppressed dissenters ensued. It seems that the spirit of the common people was finding a reflection in many of the constables, and they were not careful to arrest dissenters. In 1675 the hierarchy made one more desperate effort to fan the dying embers of persecution into a flame, and they secured the passage of an act fining constables who failed in their duty of breaking up Quaker meetings. One third of the fine was to go to the informer. A number suffered under this temporary revival of persecution. Two years before this last effort of the hierarchy, however, Sir John Leverett, who was opposed to persecution, was elected governor. By his election the people expressed their dissatisfaction with the cruelties which they had witnessed in the name of the Christian religion. They had protested faint-heartedly at first, and taken punishment for protesting at all; but the ranks of the protesters grew, and their protests became stronger, until the supporters of that false theocracy saw, in the election of Governor Leverett, the end of its dominance. The completion of that work will be the subject of another article. C. M. S.