Under Captain John Mason, the Connecticut settlers, aided by both English and Indian allies, surprised the Pequots at Fort Mystic, May, 1637, and with fire and sword, practically wiped them out in an hour’s time. A swamp battle soon afterwards completed the extermination of this once brave and valiant tribe. The few who escaped were distributed as captives. The very name Pequot disappeared from the map of the Connecticut country. The Pequot River became the Thames and the town of that name was changed to New London. During the Pequot War and the period just preceding it, Roger Williams was kept busy. No one could give better advice than he at this time, aided as he was by his friendliness with the Narragansetts. He became, in fact, a news agency, continually sending the latest bits of information to Massachusetts and in other ways serving as a valuable go-between. He kept the English informed of the Pequots’ designs as far as he knew them and once submitted a rude map showing the positions of the Indians. He occupied himself, too, with another matter--keeping the Narragansett sachem, Canonicus, in good humor. In one of the interesting old letters of Roger Williams written to his friends at the Bay, he tells how he “sweetened the spirit” of the aged chieftain in a very literal way. The superstitious Canonicus, it seems, had blamed the English for sending the plague among his people, but Roger Williams convinced him of his mistake and then requested some sugar for the sachem. “I find,” said he, “that Canonicus would gladly accept of a box of eight or ten pounds of sugar, and indeed he told me he would thank Mr. Governor for a box full.” There was great rejoicing throughout New England when the Pequots were finally disposed of. A day of solemn thanksgiving and rejoicing was appointed in Massachusetts, the successful warriors were feasted, and services held in all the churches. And what reward was given the man who, more than anybody else, had saved his countrymen from a dreadful massacre by winning over the Narragansetts? Winthrop and others debated whether it would not be well to recall him from banishment or show some other mark of favor. Nothing came of the discussion. The decree of banishment remained in force and not so much as a vote of thanks was given Roger Williams. Still the main thought in his tender heart at this time seems to have been that too much severity had been used in dealing with the Pequots. “I fear that some innocent blood cries at Connecticut,” he wrote his friend Winthrop. Again, when hands of the vanquished Indians were sent to Boston and few, if any, of the Bay people protested against this horrible custom, Roger Williams once more raised his voice. He feared “those dead hands were no pleasing sight” and regretted that he could not have prevented such a display of barbarism without offending the Indians. “I have always shown dislike,” he added, “to such dismembering the dead.”