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.
