Chapter 11: 1635-1657, The New Haven Puritans

William and Philippa Mead left their home in Watford, boarded the ship Elizabeth and arrived at Boston in the spring of 1635. From there, they traveled to Wethersfield in the Connecticut Colony and promptly joined the other saints of the Church of Christ there.

2 William was forty-three years old at the time, and he and Philippa were feeling a little apprehensive about starting over at such an advanced age in such a wild place. Even so, their conviction that they were among God’s people, that He was directing their efforts, and that He had chosen all of them to build His kingdom in this wilderness would sustain them.

3 “The saints have purged the church here of its papal trappings,” William told her. “Kings and bishops have not been able to enforce their pagan practices in this land,” he continued. “God’s people here are united and unwavering in their righteousness and dedication to reform God’s Church and make it Holy again.”

4 The saints at Wethersfield, however, were not united in mind or spirit. The majority of the congregation believed that the Sabbath (Sunday) should be celebrated by the entire community assembled at Church from early in the morning to late in the afternoon. Nevertheless, there was not an insignificant number of saints who thought that the formal worship service should conclude around noon, and that the remainder of the day should be spent in quiet contemplation and prayer at home.

5 Like most of the Puritan churches of New England, the Wethersfield congregation met in a very plain building. The interior walls were white and free of any decorations. The pews were bare wood and very uncomfortable. The pulpit was the focus of the entire room, and everyone’s attention was expected to be focused there during the worship service. Moreover, if anyone failed to focus on the sermons and prayers, the deacons (or the minister) were not afraid to point out their failure after service.

6 Hence, it did not take long until the two sides in the controversy over the length of the formal Sabbath observance came to a head. In fact, the situation had reached such serious proportions that the Reverend John Davenport of New Haven visited the congregation and attempted to mediate the dispute.

7 “We cannot comprehend why anyone would be opposed to worshipping the Lord for the whole of the Sabbath!” William declared. “No one has suggested any other use for the Sabbath,” another man rebutted. “Some of us, however, feel that a portion of the day should be reserved for the solitude of prayer and reading within our own homes!”

8 Seeing that neither side was likely to give an inch on the matter, Reverend Davenport suggested that the congregation come to an amicable parting of the ways. “It is my judgment that it would be in the best interest of everyone for you to divide into two congregations, so that you do not hinder one another’s worship or erect a stumbling block for your brother,” he concluded.

9 In the meeting that followed, it was determined that the advocates of the lengthy Sabbath service would leave Wethersfield and found a new community and church elsewhere in the colony. “Our Captain Turner has just purchased a large tract of land from the savages,” Reverend Davenport suggested. “I am sure New Haven would be open to discussing terms for these lands with your representatives.” The hardliners jumped at the offer.

10 The transaction was completed by the fall of 1640, and the saints immediately set about the task of laying out the new town of Stamford. William and Philippa received a lot of five acres the following year and began the task of staring over yet again.

11 “We are old and weary,” Philippa told her husband. “I hope that this will be the last time we are uprooted and have to begin again.” “A-men to that!” William agreed.

12 Although the work was hard, with the help of their friends and neighbors, the Meads soon had a simple frame house on their land and were raising potatoes and other vegetables in a large garden beside it. Before long, they had even acquired another cow and added more chickens to the stock which they had brought with them from Wethersfield. Thus, although they were not as prosperous as some of their neighbors, they managed to sustain themselves and their small family.

13 Their daughter Martha was a kind, quiet and hard-working girl, and William and Philippa loved her very much. Unfortunately, however, Martha was troubled with a strange malady that no one really understood. She had what they called “fits” and suffered peculiar changes in behavior whenever one of them came over her.

14 “The poor girl is possessed by a deaf and dumb spirit,” the neighbors whispered to each other. “Satan has the poor child in his grasp!”

15 Martha didn’t understand her affliction any better than their neighbors, but she didn’t think that it had anything to do with the devil. A strange feeling would come over her at times, and she knew that she was about to have one of the fits. Her vision would get blurry, and she was able to hear and smell things that she would normally be unable to detect. She would often get lightheaded, and there would be a fluttering sensation in her stomach. And then it would happen. Martha would suffer a blackout – a complete loss of consciousness, without any memory of what had happened during that period when she awoke.

16 Even so, Martha managed to hold down a job as a domestic servant in one of their wealthier neighbor’s home. She cooked and cleaned for them and managed to find enough time on the side to permit the attentions of a young man named John Richardson.

17 To be sure, it was a very proper Puritan courtship - there was no touching or alone time. Nevertheless, in spite of all of the strictures on their activities, the two managed to fall in love and resolved to talk to Martha’s parents as soon as possible about marriage. However, they were soon to learn that the road to that event would not be a straight one.

18 Early in the year 1653, Martha was busy at work when she felt the approach of one of her fits. She had just folded some linens when she began to swoon. She could see someone running toward her, and then there was nothing.

19 She came to in a bed and noticed Joseph Garnet standing in the corner of the room. “Are you feeling better?” he asked. “I – I’m not sure,” she replied.

20 There was a wet, sticky feeling between her legs, and a soreness there which she had never experienced before that day. She felt queasy and weak, but she also felt the need to get up out of that bed and go home. As she swung her feet over onto the floor, Joseph rushed over to the bed, grabbed her arm and helped to steady her as she stood up.

21 Just then, the lady of the house entered the room. “Joseph, you should not be in here with Martha,” she scolded. “I will help her,” she said as she took Martha’s other arm. “Mr. Ross and I were only trying to help,” he sheepishly offered in his defense and then retreated.

22 About a month later, John finally summoned enough courage to talk to William about his daughter. “I would very much like to have your blessing to marry Martha,” he blurted out before he had even taken a seat before the fireplace.

23 “I see,” William began. “I cannot say that this comes as a surprise to us,” he continued. John began to squirm as he took his seat. “We would be honored to have you as our son,” William smiled.

24 “Thank you, sir!” John almost shouted. William laughed, and the young man finally relaxed into his chair.

25 As the wedding day approached, however, Martha had been having morning sickness and she had already missed two periods. “You are with child,” her mother told her.

26 “That cannot be!” Martha replied in astonishment. “Have you and John been together?” Philippa demanded. “Never!” Martha cried with as much indignation as she could muster and began weeping.

27 When she regained her composure, she told her mother about what had happened that day at work. “I don’t remember anything, but something must have happened,” Martha insisted.

28 “Dearest child, we will talk to your father and John and see what they have to say,” Philippa told her. “Must we?” her daughter pleaded. “This is not something that we will be able to hide from them, and they must know what happened,” Philippa insisted.

29 Fortunately, after hearing the story, both men offered their support to Martha. John and Martha were quietly married and then moved to Roxbury in the Massachusetts Bay Colony to prevent the gossip that would most assuredly ensue in Stamford.

30 While living there, the baby was born and had died within a month. Martha was inconsolable. John took her in his arms and comforted her. “It’s time to go home,” he told her.

31 However, within a few months of returning, a nasty rumor about what had happened had spread across Stamford. “I have heard that Martha Richardson was with child when she married John, and that they moved away to keep their secret and get rid of the baby,” Goodwife Buxton whispered to her neighbor, Sarah Scofield. “I hope that is not true,” Goodwife Scofield replied. “The Meads are fine people and good friends of ours.”

32 Unfortunately, the rumor was close enough to the truth and couldn’t be answered or explained without creating an awkward moment for everyone concerned and revealing other embarrassing information. Thus, by September of 1654, news had reached the colonial capital at New Haven, and a date was set for the Court of Magistrates to look into the matter.

33 Governor Theophilus Eaton and Deputy Governor Stephen Goodyear presided over the court. There were four other magistrates on the dais that day.

34 “Martha Mead, now the wife of John Richardson of Stamford, you are charged with fornication and being with child at the time of your marriage,” Governor Eaton began. “We are also here today to inquire about the manner of that child’s death after living about a month,” he continued. “That we might know the truth of the matter, the court calls John Richardson to testify.”

35 After he was sworn to tell the truth, one of the other magistrates began questioning him. “When did you marry this woman, and when was the child born?” he demanded.

36 “We married in July of last year, and the baby was born in January,” John answered. This was followed by several questions and answers in quick succession.

37 “When did the child die?” “A little over a month later.”

38 “Did you father the child?” “No.”

39 “You were, however, aware that she was with child?” “Yes.”

40 “And you deliberately misled everyone about these facts?” “I wanted to spare her the shame.” John was visibly shaken when he returned to his seat.

41 “The court calls Martha Richardson to testify,” another magistrate announced. “Were you with child before you were married to John Richardson?” he asked. “Yes, but I did not commit fornication.”

42 “Then how do you explain the fact that you were with child?” he demanded. “I had swooned while I was working at my master’s house in Stamford, and someone took advantage of me while I was insensible.”

43 “Are you asking us to believe that you have no memory of your wicked behavior?” he pressed. “I can only tell you that I did not willingly fornicate with any man,” she insisted.

44 “What became of the child?” “My poor little girl went to sleep one night and never awoke,” Martha sobbed. When she had finished her testimony, the magistrates heard from several members of the community who testified about Martha’s “fits.”

45 After discussing the matter amongst themselves, the magistrates prepared to announce their decision. “The court finds Martha Richardson guilty of fornication and lying without ceasing, and she deserves a public whipping,” Governor Eaton pronounced. “However, in consideration of the fact that she is now great with child, the court orders a fine of ten pounds for her wicked behavior - to be paid within the year,” he finished.

46 The court eventually accepted two cows from her husband and brother as payment for the fine. Martha’s brother, however, had problems of his own.

47 John Mead had a temper, and he did not like Quakers. “We should live at peace with all men and listen to the voice of Christ within us,” the young Quaker had admonished him after John had threatened to toss him into the river.

48 “You child of the Devil!” John bellowed. He then took a run at the astonished Quaker and shoved him into the Mianus River.

49 “You are not permitted to take the law into your own hands and throw someone into the River!” Constable Richard Law reprimanded him. “Are you in league with Satan?” John demanded. “You must be one of them! Have you adopted this heresy?” he persisted. “John, I am arresting you for bearing false witness and making slanderous accusations against one of God’s own servants,” Law replied.

50 The court agreed with the constable. “We cannot recall having met with such a case since this court was convened,” the presiding officer began. “It is evident to us that you are full of malice and bitterness, John Mead, and are deserving of severe censure and punishment by this court.”

51 When the proceedings had concluded, and John had made arrangements to pay his fines, his father took him aside and admonished him to be more circumspect in the future. “A good reputation is a precious thing, and it is hard to repair that when it has been damaged,” William told him.