Growing up, Dominique Williams visited her grandmother every weekend.
And on each trip, she was greeted by a piece of her past, a name stitched in fabric, filled with centuries of legacy and mystery.
“She had this beautiful quilt draped on her couch that says ‘St. David’s Indians’ on it,” she recalls.
Williams lives in Bermuda – and her grandmother’s house was situated at the eastern tip of the archipelago on a secluded island called St. David’s.
Residents included fishermen, farmers and boat builders. And for centuries, they faced discrimination.
“We looked different, we sounded different,” Williams says. “People called St. David’s Islanders, ‘oh you poor, dirty Mohawks over there.’”
“That’s why a lot of people in St. David’s thought that they were Mohawk people,” she says.
The truth was more complicated.
It’s part of a hidden history of Native American enslavement – a surprising and overlooked story in the narrative of early America.
As colonial powers took over Native land in the 1600s, white settlers were also enslaving Native people. Some worked in New England. Others were sold overseas. And some, like Williams’ ancestors, were kidnapped and shipped to an isolated tropical island.
‘Looking for us’
People on St. David’s passed down oral histories for generations.
The stories told of a time when Indigenous peoples from New England were captured, enslaved and brought to Bermuda.
Until, centuries later, they crossed an ocean to reconnect with family.
One link in that reconnection? A portrait published in the 1800s.
On it is a boat pilot, Williams’ ancestor , with a caption that reads: “... probably descended from one of the Pequod captives.”
The clue was so intriguing that elders from St. David’s traveled to New England about 25 years ago to learn more. In ϳԹ, they met a researcher named Everett ‘Tall Oak’ Weeden, whose ancestries were Pequot, Narragansett and Wampanoag.
“And he said, ‘While you’re here looking for us. We were also looking for you,’” Williams said. “Because they also had stories of their people being taken to the Caribbean and Bermuda specifically.”
The islanders learned that they were, in fact, descendants of enslaved Pequot, Narragansett and Wampanoag Indians.
The islanders share many similarities with Native communities of the Northeast. They’d passed down ceremony and traditions that reflected their Northern counterparts.
Uncovering a history of racial erasure
Linford Fisher spends a lot of time poring over bills of sale, archival records and letters. The Brown University historian researches slavery in New England and partners closely with tribal communities.
“Over the past 20, 30, years it’s become overwhelmingly evident that slavery in New England was actually a thing,” Fisher says.
New England has a long and hidden history of enslaving people who were Black, but Native American enslavement was “the most dominant form of slavery, probably, throughout most of the 17th century,” Fisher says.
“Slavery was part of how English colonists came to dominate New England in terms of claiming land, in terms of commandeering people’s labor, in terms of taking over the landscape more generally,” he says.
Records show that across the Northeast, enslaved Native American captives worked on small farms as well as on ships and as domestic servants.
But to truly understand Native enslavement, Fisher says historians need to critically challenge the written language – and records – of the time.
“Because sometimes they’re just called servants instead of slaves. In other cases, there’s actually racial erasure,” he says. “Native people who enter the Atlantic slave trade, when they show up at an island, they are just added to the enslaved population and called ‘Black’ or ‘Negro.’”
Centuries of displacement
In the 1630s, colonists moved into ϳԹ and the Pequot War erupted.
At the time, the Pequots were among the dominant tribes in the region. Also known as the ‘War for ϳԹ’, this conflict set the foundations for colonialism. In 1637, a battle took place called the Mystic Massacre. Soldiers from the ϳԹ and Massachusetts colonies with Native allies surrounded a Pequot community and set it on fire. Hundreds of men, women and children were burned alive or slaughtered. Enslavement followed.
“When the troops were down in ϳԹ hunting down the Pequots, they would capture women and children and send them back to Boston and sell them into slavery,” Fisher says.
As Pequots were sold in North America, Fisher says, “the word gets out and colonists in Bermuda write back to Boston and they say, ‘Hey we heard you have some slaves available.” Can you send us some Pequots?”
Michael Thomas, an elder of the Mashantucket Pequot Tribal Nation, says he had “groups of relatives carried to the Bahamas.”
But good luck finding that in a history book, he says.
He says the U.S. government worked to erase the record of enslavement of Native Americans in the Northeast.
“There is an awful lot of hidden history,” Thomas says. “Honestly, that’s what governments do. Governments tell the story that they want told. And they don’t tell the story that they don’t want told.”
In addition to some Natives being enslaved in Bermuda and the Bahamas, others were sent to Spain and Portugal, according to Lorén Spears, a member of the Narragansett Tribal Nation and executive director of the Indigenous-led Tomaquag Museum in Rhode Island.
Generations of people don’t know that history. But, for Native Americans, the erasure is especially damaging.
“As an Indigenous person … if you don’t understand your own history fully, then you can’t heal from the trauma,” Spears says.
A reconnection
For some Natives, understanding their history has led to a deeply personal journey of finding each other.
Each summer tribal communities in the Northeast and the St. David’s Islanders travel back and forth between New England and Bermuda to attend each other’s powwows. They and other tribes are also collaborating with Fisher, the Brown University historian, on a project called “,” a website documenting Indigenous slavery in the Americas.
“There’s a whole searchable database of 7,000 entries,” Fisher says. “I hope present day Native folks, but also descendants of colonists, can trace ancestors through this as well.”
But it’s not easy, he admits. That’s because enslaved people were so often stripped of their names, tribal affiliations and racial identities.
“All they had was their stories,” Dominique Williams says.
Stories passed along as her ancestors were forced to leave all their personal belongings behind when they were trafficked to Bermuda.
Stories, solidified into pride, and ultimately emblazoned on a grandmother’s quilt that began a lifelong search for culture and connection.
“Now here I am in 2025 learning as much as I can to then be able to pass that down to future generations,” Williams says.
Last summer, she attended her first powwow in North America. Next summer she’ll step foot for the first time in ϳԹ for Schemitzun, the Mashantucket Pequot’s annual Feast of the Green Corn and Dance.
She’ll dress in Native regalia and enter a sacred circle to dance with her tribal cousins. She’ll reawaken centuries of tradition.
“This culture wasn’t lost,” she says. “It was just sleeping.”
Read more from Still Here: Native American Resilience in New England
Chapter 1: For Native Americans, an enduring spiritual connection to the land
Chapter 2: The hidden history of Indigenous slavery in New England and beyond
Chapter 3: 'Unsung hero:' How runner Tarzan Brown put the Narragansett tribe on the map in the 1930s
Chapter 4: Amid mist and music: A Native American reverence for water, celebrated on the banks of the CT River
Chapter 5: Power of powwow: A cultural connection echoes across generations of Native Americans