Chapter V: One Sunday Morning

THE exemplary punishment dealt out to the unfortunate martyr Westland seemed to satisfy the authorities for some time, or it might have been that their failure to silence Sir William Penn in spite of fines and imprisonment, made them pause to consider before taking up another crusade of persecution.

Sir William Penn was son of the Lord High Admiral of England, who had recently died, leaving his son a considerable fortune, as well as claims upon the government for money lent to them by the old admiral.

But while a student at Oxford, Master William Penn, his son, had embraced Quakerism, and been expelled for preaching and teaching it. His father was very angry, and threatened to disown him for his connection with such a disgraceful set of people, but afterwards sent him to travel on the Continent, in the hope that he would forget what the old admiral thought was the wildest vagary.

But after two years of travel young Penn came home a confirmed Quaker, and very soon was sent to the Tower for writing a pamphlet he called "The Sandy Foundation Shaken," which was specially directed against the Church of England. During his eight months' imprisonment, he wrote "No Cross No Crown," and several others, which he published as soon as he was released.

Then he began preaching again, and was again arrested. But the indomitable young Quaker had won for himself the regard of the citizens of London, and the jury refused to convict him upon the evidence brought forward, and were themselves fined for their refusal.

Master Drayton had been one of these, and it had strained his resources to make up this money; but he felt amply compensated by the friendship that arose out of this between him and the ardent young champion of their despised sect.

When Audrey Lowe had gone home, and the children had been put to bed, Dame Drayton told her husband the errand her niece had come upon.

"The 'prentice lads suspect we are Quakers, and Sim Tompkins has told his mother about it. What wilt thou do, my husband?" she asked.

"Nay, what can we do but put our trust in the Lord?"

"But thou wilt be careful, Gilbert, for the children's sake?"

"Careful, dear heart? It is not to be feared that I shall publish abroad that I am a Quaker; but, as thou sayest, too many suspect it, I fear, and I have been pondering on a thought that came to me to-day when thinking of Westland and his wife. He will doubtless be sent out to the plantations of America by the next cargo of convicts, and when he can save money enough to pay for the passage of his wife, she will be allowed to join him in his exile. Now, our young champion, Sir William Penn, is rich, and moreover the government is deeply indebted to him for moneys lent by his father, and which he hath small hope of regaining, for the king is too extravagant ever to pay his debts. But if he hath little money to spare, he hath many waste lands out in the plantations of America, and he might be induced to sell some to our friend Penn in part payment of his debt. On this land some of us might go and settle, even as the Independents did in the reign of the first Charles, for America is wide and free, and there we might serve God even as the divine voice should guide and direct us, and none could make us afraid."

"That were a blessing indeed," said Dame Drayton, but with a sigh, for the prospect of leaving her native land and her beloved London was a painful thought to her. "Oh that we could have this blessed freedom in England!" she said, clasping her hands, while the tears slowly filled her eyes.

"Nay, nay, dame, thou hast naught to fret over, I trow," said her husband, in some surprise to see his wife in tears.

"It was not of myself I was thinking, but of Annie Lowe, my sister. Audrey hath let me know—without herself understanding—that the way they thought would be soft to their feet hath been strewn with thorns; none the less sharp are they, I trow, because they have to be covered from the world."

"Now thou art speaking in parables, Martha. I thought the vicar was well content to abide in the church that could nourish him."

"It may afford nourishment for the body, but to sign the Act of Uniformity, whereby Parson Lowe and many another gave up the right to serve and worship God as the inner voice would fain lead them, could but be starvation for the soul. I felt sure it would come to this with Annie and her husband, and that she would one day wish she had been among those who were ejected for the truth's sake."

"But—but I thought Annie sent to warn thee of the danger thou wert in through Sim chattering to his mother of what had been spoken here?"

"Yea, she hath grown timid because she hath chosen the path of the coward, until now she hath become timid at a shadow, for she fears that if I walk not warily, men may even accuse her of being a Quaker. Dear Annie! she hath always been feeble and timorous, and the times are hard to endure for such. The child Audrey is different from either mother or father, and so it is for her sake as well as Annie's I long and pray that all in England may have freedom to worship God even as they will, without let or hindrance from king or parliament."

But Master Drayton shook his head.

"That were a vain wish, dear heart; but a tract of country might surely be granted in America, where Quakers could dwell in peace, and another where Independents might rule themselves in matters of religion, for it hath been proved that they cannot abide in peace together. I will talk to Friend Penn of the thought that hath come to me, and it may be he will have sonic light given to guide him in this matter, for to provide a refuge for the Lord's persecuted people will surely be a true way of devoting the wealth he hath inherited to the service of the Lord, which he is fully purposed to do."

It was evident to Dame Drayton that her husband feared trouble was thickening around them, or he would not have spoken in this way, and it must be confessed that life was indeed hard, when each time he went out she knew not whether he would return, or whether some friend might not come to tell her he had been arrested and carried off to Bridewell to await the meeting of the court where his case would be heard.

But Master Drayton went in and out of Soper Lane without interference, and for the next few weeks nothing was heard of the Quakers being molested, so that at last the lady began to breathe more freely again; other Quakers also took courage, and from meeting in their own or at each other's houses for worship, ventured to open once more the little meeting-house which was situated in an alley in Gracechurch Street.

The closing of this had been a great deprivation to many, but Dame Drayton had never wholly given up attending the church of All Hallow's, close to her home, for it was here she first learned to know God as her Father and Friend, and here she could still hold communication with Him, even through the prayers which were such a stumbling-block to many sincere and earnest souls at this time. To her sister they were little else than chains and fetters, galling instead of helping her soul to rise as upon the rungs of a ladder to the very bosom of the Father. This was what the service of the Church of England was to Dame Drayton; but sometimes there were other seasons when nothing but the solemn silence of their own meeting-house would satisfy her soul's need. Yet so that she was fed with the bread of heaven, what did it matter whether it was words or the absence of words, so long as the still small voice of God spoke in her soul, and made itself heard above her fears or the clamour of the world?

To Master Drayton, however, the church but ill supplied the quiet meeting-house, and so he sat at home and read the Bible or some of the pamphlets written by Barclay, Fox, or Penn, in defence of their faith, and to him the opening of the meeting-house once more was a source of great comfort and rejoicing.

He was the more glad, too, when he saw Sir William Penn among the worshippers, for he doubted not the Spirit of God would move him to speak a word of comfort and encouragement to many who were weary and heavy laden with fear and apprehension. Only a few of the bravest among the Quaker community had ventured to attend this first meeting, but as it was uninterrupted by the authorities, the next time the doors were open many more would attend, there was little doubt.

During this time Bessie Westland had taken up an occupation that no one would have thought likely to attract her. A day or two after she came to Soper Lane she asked to be allowed to work at hat-making like one of the boy apprentices.

Dame Drayton looked rather horrified at the proposal, but Bessie said—

"I ought to do something to help to pay what we shall cost you, and if I learn this hat-making now, I may be able to earn some money to help mother and father in the new country." For to comfort her, Dame Drayton had told her that a way would doubtless be opened for her and her sisters to go to the plantations when her mother went.

So with this hope to spur her, Bessie took up the task of pasting and sewing, doing all the lighter portions of the work required in the manufacture of a hat, Master Drayton taking care that there was no opportunity for the apprentices to talk to or interfere with her.

To his surprise the girl proved a far more apt pupil than any boy he had ever had, and the same energy and enthusiasm that made her father a most aggressive Quaker, being turned into this channel by the force of circumstances, in Bessie showed itself in a marvellous quickness and dexterity in doing all the lighter part of hat-making; and the girl grew more content as the weeks went on.

Dame Drayton, however, did not know what to think of a girl taking up what had always been considered boys' work. She would fain have kept Bessie among the children or helping Deborah occasionally with the bread-making and cooking, but as the girl certainly seemed happier now that she had secured some constant employment, she could only think this must be best for Bessie, however strange it might be to her.

She told her husband, however, that Bessie puzzled her. She could not understand the girl wanting to do boys' work when she and Deb were ready to teach her all sorts of womanly handiwork.

"Thou and I must trust it is the Lord's will she should do this, for she hath certainly most deft and useful fingers, and a quick understanding for all kinds of hat-work. Quick and thorough is she, so that her work can be relied upon already, and I should sorely miss the wench now from my side."

Things were in this position when the winter set in, and the Quakers, having met with no disturbance from the authorities, gathered at their meeting-house each First Day—as they chose to call Sunday.

Of course Bessie was most regular in her attendance; but Dame Drayton did not always go with her husband and Bessie, preferring to take some of the children to All Hallow's Church, which was close to her home. One Sunday, however, Bessie was suffering from a bad cold, and wholly unfit to go out in the bleak drizzling rain that was falling, and so her friends insisted that she should remain in bed. Dame Drayton decided to go to the meeting-house with her husband, for there was to be a gathering of the Friends afterwards, to hear something more concerning the plan for founding a Quaker colony across the seas.

But, alas! that meeting was never held, for the Lord Mayor had ordered that the place should be watched, and as soon as the Friends were all assembled, the doors were forced open by a party of men-at-arms, and after a little parleying with those who kept the door, the Quakers were informed they might consider themselves under arrest, and until their names were taken none were allowed to leave the building.

When this business had been got through by the officer in charge, some half-dozen names were read out as being the ringleaders in this seditious gathering, and among them were those of Master Drayton and his wife.

For a minute the heart of the poor woman seemed turned to stone, and her thoughts instantly flew to the children at home,—her own and those who had been practically orphaned by the rigour of the law,—and she covered her face with her hands in the agony of her anxiety.

The halberdier who had been placed in charge of her, so far respected her grief that he did not disturb her until he was compelled by the officer to lead her out in the rear of some half-dozen others who were being conducted to Newgate.

It was a pitiful sight. No resistance had been made by the unoffending people, for it was one of the rules of their Society that they should submit meekly to whatever outrage was perpetrated upon them, and so Dame Drayton, comforted now by the thought that God would surely protect her darlings, walked through the wet muddy streets behind her husband. When they reached Newgate they were thrust into the common prison, where thieves and drunkards were making the place a very hell by their oaths and ribald songs.

The little company of Quakers sat down in one corner by themselves, and for a time could only listen with shivering horror to what was going on around them. But, hardened as most of this crowd were, Dame Drayton's sympathy was soon awakened by the appearance of a young girl with a baby in her arms, and leaving her husband's side, she went and sat down by the girl to say a few words of comfort to her. From speaking to one, she grew courageous enough to speak to others, and thus helped to pass the long weary hours of that dreadful day.

On Monday morning they were taken before the Lord Mayor, and charged with opening premises for seditious meetings, that had previously been closed by order of the court. Master Drayton was one of the four trustees holding the premises, and moreover he was known to be one of the jury who had refused to convict Penn some time before; which circumstance was brought forward against him, as proving him to be an obstinate Quaker, who richly deserved to lose his ears and be transported beyond the seas.

The court, however, sentenced him to six months' imprisonment, but released his wife, when it was pleaded that she was a regular attendant at her parish church, and was only guilty to the extent of having married a Quaker.

It was an intense relief to Master Drayton when he heard that his wife was not to be sent to prison. He could bear the hardship of this far better if he knew that she was safe at home, though how they were to live through the winter while he was in prison he did not know. Three others besides himself had been sentenced to the same punishment, and they would be a helpless burden on the hands of their friends all the time they were in prison; for, although the authorities provided a building in which they should be detained, prisoners had to pay gaolers' fees and maintain themselves, or they had to be kept out of the contributions of the charitable. At every prison door in those days was a box fixed with this notice above it, "Pity the prisoners"; and upon the pence dropped into this the destitute among them had to depend for their daily bread. If the weather was bad and the passengers few, the prisoners often grew savage with hunger, and stole from those whose friends could afford to provide them with victuals.

Of course the Quaker community never allowed any of its members who were imprisoned for conscience sake to become chargeable to the charity fund of the prison, though being for the most part poor themselves, they felt the increasing burden thrown upon them by the imprisonment of their brethren with great severity.

Dame Drayton knew this, and she resolved to try and supply her husband's needs herself, though how it was to be accomplished she did not know; but she trusted that her Father in heaven would supply the want somehow.