Chapter VIII: Front Matter (8)

In the meanwhile the people called Quakers so increased in London, that they began to have settled meetings, the first of which was in Aldersgate Street, at the house of one Sarah Sawyer. The first among woman of this society that preached at London publicly, was the already mentioned Anne Downer, afterwards married to one Greenwell, and being become a widow, in process of time entered into matrimony with George Whitehead, as hath been hinted already.

The number of the said people increasing at London from time to time, several meetings were now erected there, one of which was in the house of one Bates, in Tower Street, and another at Gerard Robert’s, in Thomas Apostles; until the church became so great, that a house known by the name of the Bull and Mouth, in Martin’s le Grand, near Aldersgate, was hired for a meeting-house; and it being a building that had belonged to some great man, there was a large hall in it that would hold many people, and so was very convenient for a meeting place.

Abundance of books were now spread against the Quakers, as seducers and false prophets; and these written by the priests and teachers of several sects: for they perceiving that many of their hearers forsook them, left no stone unturned to stop it. But the event did not answer their hope, since Burrough and Howgill did not suffer those writings to go unanswered, but clearly showed the malice and absurdities of those writers.

Leaving them busy with this work, we will take a turn toward Bristol, to behold the performances of John Audland, and Thomas Airey; who came thither in the month called July in this year, and going into the meetings of the Independents and Baptists, they found opportunity to preach Truth there, and also had occasion to speak to others, so that many received their testimony.

From thence they went to Plymouth in Devonshire, and so to London, where they met with John Camm; but after some stay there, John Audland returned to Bristol with John Camm, and found there a door opened for their ministry. Among those that did receive their testimony, were Josiah Cole, George Bishop, Charles Marshal, and Barbara Blaugdone, concerning which persons more is to be said hereafter. It was not long ere F. Howgill and E. Burrough, having gathered a church at London, came also to Bristol, where persecution now began to appear with open face: for the magistrates commanded them to depart the city and the liberties thereof; to which they answered, that they came not in the will of man; and that when He who moved them to come thither, did move them also to depart, they should obey; that if they were guilty of the transgression of any law, they were not unwilling to suffer by it; that they were free-born Englishmen, being free from the transgression of any law; and that if by violence they were put out of the city, they were ready to suffer, and would not resist; and so they departed out of the presence of the rulers. But now the priests, especially one Ralph Farmer, began to incite and enrage the people, and to set the city, as it were, on fire.

Hence it was that J. Camm and J. Audland, intending to have a meeting at Brislington, about two miles from Bristol, and passing over a bridge, were assaulted by the rabble of the city, and several apprentices of Farmer’s parish, who having got notice of their coming, were gathered there, and violently abused them with beating, kicking, and a continual cry, knock them down, kill them, or hang them presently. Thus they were driven back, and forced into the city again, narrowly escaping with their lives. But the tumult did not yet cease; for some of the multitude were heard to say, that they should find more protection from the magistrates, than those strangers, viz. Camm and Audland. But the officers of the garrison, thinking it unwarrantable to permit such a tumult, since it was not without reason to be feared, that the royalists, or abettors of King Charles, might take hold of such an opportunity to raise an insurrection, caused three of the ringleaders to be seized; but this made such a stir, that the next day more than five hundred people, as it was thought, were gathered together in a seditious manner, so that their companions were set at liberty. This made the tumultuous mob more bold and saucy, the rather because they saw that the magistrates, hearing that J. Camm and J. Audland not only had kept a meeting at Brislington, but also had visited some in their houses at Bristol, had bid them to depart the town.

Now the riotous multitude did not stick to rush violently into the houses of the Quakers, so called, at Bristol, under a pretence of preventing treasonable plottings. And when some in zeal told the priests, these were the fruits of their doctrine, they incited the people the more, and induced the magistrates to imprison some of those called Quakers. This instigated the rabble to that degree, that now they thought they had full liberty to use all kind of insolence against the said people; beating, smiting, pushing, and often treading upon them, till blood was shed: for they were become a prey to every malapert fellow, as a people that were without the protection of the law. This often caused a tumult in the town; and some said, (not without good reason,) that the apprentices durst not have left their work, had not their masters given them leave. And a certain person informed the mayor and aldermen upon his oath, that he had heard an apprentice say, that they had leave from their masters, and were encouraged; for alderman George Hellier had said, he would die rather than any of the apprentices should go to prison. Now an order of sessions came forth, that the constables do once in every fortnight, make diligent search within their several wards, for all strangers and suspicious persons; and that all people be forewarned, not to be present at any tumult, or other unlawful assembly, or gather into companies or multitudes in the streets, on pain of being punished according to law. But this order was to little purpose, for the tumultuous companies and riots continued; and once when a proclamation was read in the name of the Lord Protector, requiring every one to depart, some of the rioters were heard to say, ‘What do you tell us of a Protector? tell us of King Charles.’ In the meanwhile the Quakers, so called, were kept in prison, and it plainly appeared that the order against unlawful assemblies was levelled against their meetings: and though the magistrates pretended that they must answer for it to the Protector, if they did let the Quakers alone without disturbing their meetings, which at that time, for the most part, were silent, and nothing was spoken, but when now and then one of their ministers from abroad visited them; yet this was not at all agreeable with the Protector’s speech he made on the 12th of the month called September, to the parliament, in the painted chamber, where he spoke these words:

‘Is not liberty of conscience in religion a fundamental? so long
as there is liberty for the supreme magistrate, to exercise
his conscience in erecting what form of church government he
is satisfied he should set up, why should he not give it to
others? Liberty of conscience is a natural right, and he that
would have it, ought to give it, having liberty to settle what
he likes for the public. Indeed that hath been the vanity of our
contests: every sect saith, Give me liberty; but give it him,
and to his power he will not yield it to any body else. Where
is our ingenuity? Truly that is a thing that ought to be very
reciprocal. The magistrate hath his supremacy, and he may settle
religion according to his conscience. And I may say to you, I can
say it, all the money in the nation would not have tempted men
to fight upon such an account as they have engaged, if they had
not had hopes of liberty, better than they had from episcopacy,
or than would have been afforded them from a Scottish Presbytery,
or an English either, if it had made such steps, or been as
sharp and rigid as it threatened when it was first set up. This
I say is a fundamental: it ought to be so. It is for us and the
generations to come.’

Cromwell spoke more in confirmation hereof; and indeed he would have been a brave man, if really he had performed what he asserted with binding arguments. But though now he seemed to disapprove the behaviour of Presbytery, (for then he was for Independency,) yet after some time he courted the Presbyterians; and these fawning upon him from the pulpit, as their preserver and the restorer of the church, he suffered the Quakers to be persecuted under his government, though he pretended not to know it, when he might easily have stopt it. But by hearkening to the flatteries of the clergy, at length he lost his credit, even with those who with him had fought for the common liberty; and thus at last befel him after his death, what he seemed to have imprecated on himself in the foregoing speech, if he departed from allowing due liberty. For he further said, that many of the people had been necessitated to go into the vast howling wilderness in New England, for the enjoyment of their liberty; and that liberty was a fundamental of the government; adding, that it had cost much blood to have it so, and even the hazarding of all. And in the conclusion he said, that he could sooner be willing to be rolled into his grave, and buried with infamy, than give his consent to the wilful throwing away of that government; so testified unto in the fundamentals of it. Now who knows not what infamy befel him afterwards, when in the reign of King Charles the Second, it is said, his corpse was digged up, and buried near the gallows, as may be further mentioned in its due place?

But I return now to Bristol, where several were kept in prison still, and no liberty granted them; nay, they were even charged with what they utterly denied themselves to be guilty of. Among these, one John Worring was accused of having called the priest, Samuel Grimes, a devil: but Worring denied this, though he did not stick to say, he could prove somewhat like it by his own words. And it being asked him how, he answered, that the priest had said at the meeting, that in all things he did, he sinned; and if in all things, then as well in his preaching, as in other things; and he that sinneth is of the devil. If you will not believe me, believe the Scriptures. It may be easily conjectured that this answer did not please the priests’ followers, and therefore Worring and some others were kept in prison: and among these also Elizabeth Marshall, who in the steeple-house, after the priest John Knowls had dismissed the people with what is called the blessing, spoke to him, and said, ‘This is the word of the Lord to thee. I warn thee to repent, and to mind the light of Christ in thy conscience.’ And when the people, by order of the magistrates then present, violently assaulted her, giving her many blows with staves and cudgels, she cried out, ‘The mighty day of the Lord is at hand, wherein he will strike terror on the wicked.’ Some time before she spoke also in the steeple-house to the priest Ralph Farmer, after he had ended his sermon and prayer, and said, ‘This is the word of the Lord to thee. Wo, wo, wo from the Lord to them who take the word of the Lord in their mouths, and the Lord never sent them.’

A good while after this, the magistrates gave out the following warrant:

_‘City of Bristol._

‘To all the constables within this city, and to every one of them.

‘Forasmuch as information hath been given us, that John Camm, and
John Audland, two strangers, who were commanded to depart this
city, have, in contempt of authority, come into this city again,
to the disturbance of the public peace: these are therefore to
will and require you forthwith to apprehend them, and bring them
before us to be examined, according to law. Given this 22d of
January, 1654. Signed,

_William Cann_,
_Joseph Jackson_,
_Gabriel Sherman_,
_Richard Vickris, Dept. Mayor_,
_Henry Gibbs_,
_John Lock_.’

Camm and Audland had departed the town before this time, having never been commanded, (as the warrant saith,) to depart the city, either by the magistrates themselves, or by any other at their command; though F. Howgill and E. Burrough had been required to do so. So this warrant proving ineffectual, the magistrates caused another to be formed in these words:

_‘City of Bristol._

‘To the constables of the peace of the ward of ---- and to every
of them.

‘Forasmuch as information hath been given us upon oath, that
certain persons of the Franciscan order in Rome, have of late
come over into England, and under the notion of Quakers, drawn
together several multitudes of people in London; and whereas
certain strangers, going under the names of John Camm, John
Audland, George Fox, James Nayler, Francis Howgill, and Edward
Burrough, and others unknown, have lately resorted to this city,
and in like manner, under the notion of Quakers, drawn multitudes
of people after them, and occasioned very great disturbances
amongst us; and forasmuch as by the said information it appeareth
to us to be very probable, and much to be suspected, that the
said persons so lately come hither, are some of those that came
from Rome, as aforesaid; these are therefore in the name of his
highness, the lord protector, to will and require you to make
diligent search through your ward for the aforesaid strangers, or
any of them, and all other suspected persons, and to apprehend
and bring them before us, or some of us, to be examined and dealt
with according to law: hereof fail you not. Given the 25th of
Jan. 1654. Signed,

_John Gunning, Mayor._
_Gabriel Sherman_,
_Henry Gibbs_,
_George Hellier_,
_Gabriel Sherman_,
_William Cann_,
_Joseph Jackson_,
_John Lock_,
_Richard Vickris_.’

Hereunto these magistrates affixed their seals; and that alderman Sherman might be sure his name was down, he wrote it twice. How frivolous this pretence of persons of the Franciscan order was, even a child might perceive; for the Quakers were by this time so multiplied in the North of England, that they could no more be looked upon as an unknown people. And as for G. Fox, and James Nayler, they had not yet been at Bristol, and therefore it seemed absurd to seek for them there. But it was thought expedient to brand the Quakers with odious names, that so under the cloak thereof, they might be persecuted as disturbers of the public peace: as appeared when one Thomas Robertson, and Josiah Cole, being at Nicholas’ steeple-house, and standing both still without speaking a word, until the priest Hazzard had ended, and dismissed the people, were very rudely treated; for Thomas then lifting up his voice, was presently, even when the word was yet in his mouth, struck on the head by many, as was also his companion, though he did not attempt to speak. But Thomas, after being a little recovered of a heavy blow, began to speak again, and said to the people, ‘Tremble before the Lord, and the word of his holiness.’ But this so kindled their anger, that they were both hurried out of the steeple-house, and with great rage driven to the mayor’s, who commanded them both to Newgate prison.

Not long after one Jeremy Hignel, being in his shop attending his calling, was sent for by the mayor and aldermen, to come before them; which he presently doing, the mayor asked him whether he knew where he was; he answered he did. Then the mayor asked where; he replied, ‘In the presence of the Lord.’ ‘Are you not,’ said the mayor, ‘in the presence of the Lord’s justices?’ his answer was, ‘If you be the Lord’s justices, I am.’ Whereupon one of the aldermen said, without any more words passing at that time, ‘We see what he is; take him away to Newgate.’ For since he did not take off his hat, it was concluded he was a Quaker, and this was counted cause enough to send him to prison; and so he was immediately brought thither, where the keeper received him without a mittimus, and kept him close prisoner nineteen days, permitting none to come to him but his wife.

No better was the treatment of Daniel Wastfield, who, being sent for by the mayor, appeared before him, and alderman Vickris; then the mayor said to him, ‘Wastfield, come hither;’ and he thereupon drawing near, the mayor asked him three several times, ‘What art thou?’ Though he knew him well enough, having called him by his name as above said. Wastfield answered, ‘I am a man.’ ‘But what’s thy name?’ said the mayor. ‘My name is Daniel Wastfield,’ answered he. Then said the mayor to one of his officers, ‘Take him and carry him to Newgate;’ further adding, that he came thither to contemn justice: to which Wastfield replied, ‘No, I came hither in obedience to thy order;’ for the mayor had sent for him, as hath been said. Thus he was carried away without a mittimus, the mayor saying his word was a mittimus; and he was kept a close prisoner thirty-three days, and none suffered to come to him but his servants, notwithstanding he was a widower, and must now leave his house and trade to their management; and a child of his died in the meanwhile, and was buried, and he kept from seeing it.

The magistrates having thus begun persecution, became from time to time more vigorous in it, insomuch, that several others were imprisoned, and among these Christopher Birkhead, who, standing still in Nicholas’ steeple-house, with his hat on, and being asked by the priest, Ralph Farmer, what he stood there for; answered, ‘I stand in obedience to the righteous law of God in my conscience; I have neither offended the law of God, nor of the nation. A wonderful and horrible thing is committed in the land.’ More he would have spoken, but was stopped with beating and thrusting, and so carried to prison.

Now the magistrates were not a little incited to persecution by the said Farmer; and there being several that were very bold, they did not stick to write sharp letters to him; and his indecent carriage was also told him to his face, by word of mouth, in the steeple-house, after sermon; and those who did so, were sent to prison. At length these prisoners were brought to trial; and since it could not be proved that they had transgressed any law, some of the magistrates seemed inclined to set them at liberty, if they would have declared that they were sorry for what they had done. Among them was also one William Foord, and nothing material being found against him, but that he was one of those called Quakers, he was accused of having kept a stranger at work; which he however esteemed to be lawful, since his trade of wool-combing did not belong to the company of milliners, who complained of him. Yet he was asked whether he was sorry for what he had done; which denying, as well as those who had reproved the priests, he that was not guilty was sent to prison again, as well as those that were pretended to be so. Among these last was also Sarah Goldsmith, who, from a well meant zeal to testify against pride, having a coat of sackcloth, and her hair dishevelled, with earth or dust strewed on her head, had gone through the city without receiving any considerable harm from the people, because some looked upon her to be crack-brained. There was also one Temperance Hignel, who, having said in the steeple-house to the priest, after he had ended his sermon, ‘Wo from the Lord God to thee, Jacob Brint,’ was presently struck down, and so violently abused, that blood ran down her face, and she, being committed to prison, fell sick; and when they saw her life was in danger, she was carried out in a basket, and died three days after. The reason she gave, when in prison, why she spoke in that manner to the priest was, that he had scarce any hearers, but what were swearers, drunkards, strikers, fighters, and railers, &c. And that therefore his ministry was in vain, since he preached for gain; whereas he himself ought to have brought forth good fruits.

How long the others were kept in prison, I do not know certainly; however, it was a pretty long time; for George Bishop, and Dennis Hollister, who formerly had been a member of the parliament, and three others, put all these transactions in writing at large, and sent it to the magistrates, in hopes that thereby they might see the evil of persecution: but this proving in vain, they gave it out in print five months after, that so every one might know how the Bristollers treated their inhabitants, which was to that degree, that an author said, ‘Was such a tyrannical iniquity and cruelty ever heard of in this nation? Or would the ministers under king Charles have ventured to do so? Was not Stafford but a mean transgressor in comparison of these?’ And though archbishop Laud was beheaded, yet it could not be proved that the Episcopalians had persecuted so fiercely, as these pretended asserters of liberty of conscience had done, who, being got into possession of the power, did oppress more than those they had driven out. This made the persecuted, some of which formerly had also fought for the common liberty, the more in earnest against those that were now in authority.

But I will turn away from Bristol towards Norwich, whither Richard Hubberthorn, and George Whitehead were gone. Here it happened, that R. Hubberthorn, having spoken to a priest in a steeple-house yard, and not having taken off his hat before the magistrates, was imprisoned in the castle, where he was kept great part of the following year, and in the meanwhile, writ several epistles of exhortation to his friends; and his companion, G. Whitehead’s preaching had such an effect, that a meeting of their friends was settled in that city.

But before I go on, it will be convenient to give some account of the quality of these two persons: R. Hubberthorn was born in the North of Lancashire, and descended from very honest parents: his father was a yeoman of good reputation among men, and Richard was his only son, and from a youth inclined to piety. Being come to man’s estate, he became an officer in the parliament’s army, and from a zeal for godliness, preached sometimes to his soldiers. But entering afterwards into the society of the Quakers so called, he left his military employment, and testified publicly against it; for he was now become a soldier under another banner, viz. that of Christ Jesus, Prince of Peace; not fighting as formerly, with the outward sword, but with the sword of the Spirit, which is the word of God. In his ministry he had an excellent gift, and though not so loud in voice as some others, yet he was a man of a quick understanding, and very edifying in his preaching.

G. Whitehead, (who, whilst I write this, is yet alive,) was trained up to learning, and though but a youth, instructed others in literature, and continued in that calling sometime after he came to be convinced of that Truth which was preached by the professors of the light; and he strove to bring up children in the fear of the Lord. But before this change he was a diligent hearer of the world’s teachers, and usually frequented the steeple-house at Orton in Westmoreland: yet the singing of David’s psalms became so burdensome to him, that sometimes he could not join therewith; for he saw that David’s conditions were not generally suitable to the states of a mixed multitude; and he found himself to be short of what they sung. This consideration brought him into such a strait, that often he durst not sing those psalms the priests gave their hearers to sing, lest he should have told lies unto God. Now also he began to see that the priests’ lives and practices did not agree with their doctrine; for they themselves spoke against pride and covetousness, and yet lived in them. This likewise made him go to hear some that were separated from the national church, and got into a more specious form of godliness; but he soon saw, that, though there was a difference in the ceremonial part, and that these had a more true form of words than the priests, yet they were such as ran before they were sent by God, speaking peace to that nature in him, wherein he felt no true peace. And when he was about seventeen years of age, which was in the year 1652, he first heard the doctrine of Truth preached by those that were reproachfully called Quakers; and their testimony wrought so powerfully on his mind, that he received it, and so entered into their communion. Now he found, that to grow up in the true wisdom, and to become wise in the living knowledge of God, he must become a fool to that wisdom, wherein he had been feeding upon the tree of knowledge, having in that state no right to the tree of life: and he continuing in faithfulness, it pleased the Lord to ordain him a minister of the gospel: in which service he acquitted himself well, to the convincing of others, and the edification of the church.

But now leaving him, let us go and see what happened at Oxford in the year 1654. At the latter end of the month called June, there came two women, named Elizabeth Heavens, and Elizabeth Fletcher. These spoke in the streets to the people, and in the college they exhorted the scholars, who wickedly requiting their zeal, violently pushed Elizabeth Fletcher against a grave-stone, and then threw her into the grave; and their malice grew to that pitch, that they tied these two women together, and drove them under the pump: and after their being exceedingly wetted with pumping water upon them, they threw them into a miry ditch, through which they dragged Elizabeth Fletcher, who was a young woman, and so cruelly abused her, that she was in a painful condition till her death, which fell out not long after. Some short time after this rude encounter, she and her companion, on a First-day of the week, went into the steeple-house at Oxford, and when the priest had ended, they began to admonish the people to godliness: but two justices there present, commanded them to be taken into custody, and carried to the prison called Bocardo, where none but felons were used to be lodged. The justices desiring the magistrates to meet on this account, the mayor would not meddle with it, but said, ‘Let those who have committed them deal with them according to law, if they have transgressed any;’ adding that he had nothing to say against them; but that he would provide them with victuals, clothes, or money, if they wanted any. Yet he came into the assembly where these women were examined, and whither the vice-chancellor of the university was also required to come, who charged them, that they blasphemed the name of God, and did abuse the Spirit of God, and dishonoured the grace of Christ: and asking them whether they did read the Scriptures, they answered yea they did. Then he asked whether they were not obedient to the power of the magistrate; to which their answer was, they were obedient to the power of God, and to the power that was of God they were subject for conscience-sake. ‘Well,’ said the vice-chancellor, ‘you profane the word of God, and I fear you know not God, though you so much speak of him.’ Then the women being made to withdraw, it was concluded that there was matter enough for their commitment and punishment, and agreed that a paper should be drawn up for their being whipped out of the city. When this was done, it was presented to the mayor to set his hand to it; but he refused, and said he was not willing to do so. Then one of the justices said, that it was the privilege of the city, that if any vagrant was taken within the franchises and liberties thereof, a paper must be drawn up, that such a one, mayor, had committed such and such persons; and that then it was to be sealed with the office seal. But the mayor refused this as well as the other. Which made some say, that if he would not, it should be done by them. And then it was agreed upon, that they should be whipped soundly; which was performed the next morning, though with much unwillingness in the executioner: and the mayor had no hand in it.

But leaving these, I will turn to another, one Barbara Blaugdone, of whom mention hath already been made, that she was one of those that received the Truth, by the ministry of John Audland and John Camm. She was from her youth inclined to godliness, and her employment was to instruct children. But being entered into the society of those called Quakers, she became plain, both in speech and habit, and thereupon the children she taught, were taken from her; and, going sometimes into the steeple-houses, to bear testimony against their formalities, she was put in prison, and kept there a quarter of a year at a time. Afterwards she led a very severe life, and abstained from all flesh, wine, and beer, drinking only water for the space of a whole year. In the meanwhile she grew up and prospered in true piety. Once it happened, that coming from a meeting that was at George Bishop’s house at Bristol, a rude fellow ran a knife, or some sharp instrument, through all her clothes, into the side of her belly, which if it had gone but a little further, might have killed her. Then she went to Marlborough, where, exhorting people, in the steeple-houses and other places, to fear God, she was put into prison for the space of six weeks, and there she fasted several days and nights. When she was released, she went to Isaac Burges, the man that committed her, and discoursing with him, he was really convinced of the Truth, but could not resolve to take up the cross; yet he was afterwards very loving to her friends, and stood by them upon all occasions, never more persecuting any of them: and coming some time after to Bristol, he went to her house and confessed, that he knew her doctrine was Truth, but that he could not take up the cross to walk in that way. A while after she went into Devonshire, to Moulton, Barnstable, and Bediford, in all which places a prison was her lot. She went also to him, that after was earl of Bath, where, being acquainted, she had formerly vainly spent much time, but now she was moved to call this family to leave off their vanity. And she asked to speak with the lady; but one of the servants that knew her, bid her to go to the back door, and their lady would come forth that way, to go into the garden. Barbara being come thither, a great mastiff dog was set loose upon her; and he running fiercely, as if to devour her, turned suddenly, and went away crying and halting, whereby she clearly saw the hand of the Lord in it, to preserve her from this danger. The lady then came and stood still, hearing what Barbara spoke, and gave her thanks for her exhortation, yet did not invite her to come in, though she often had been lodged there, and had eaten and drank at her table.

Then Barbara went to Great Torrington, and, going into the steeple-house, spoke somewhat to the people by way of exhortation; but not having sufficient opportunity to clear herself, went to her lodging, and sat to writing. After noon the constables came to her, and took away what she had written, and commanded her to go along with them to their worship. To which she answered, that they would not suffer her to speak there, and that she knew no law that could compel her to go thither twice in a day; and that they all knew she was there in the morning. Being thus unwilling to go, the next day the mayor sent for her; when come, she found him moderate, and loth to send her to prison; but the priest being present, was very eager, and said she ought to be whipped for a vagabond. She then bid him prove where ever she asked any one for a bit of bread; but he said she had broken the law by speaking in their church; and he so pressed the mayor, that at length he made him write a mittimus, and send her to Exeter prison, which was twenty miles distant: there she remained for some time, until the assizes came, but was not brought forth to a trial. And after the sessions were over, she was put to lodge one night among a great company of gypsies, that were then in prison; and the next day the sheriff came with a beadle, who brought her into a room, where he whipped her till the blood ran down her back, and she never startled at a blow; but sang aloud, and was made to rejoice that she was counted worthy to suffer for the name of the Lord; which made the beadle say, ‘Do ye sing? I will make you cry by and by;’ and with that he laid on so hard, that one Ann Speed seeing this began to weep; but Barbara was strengthened by an uncommon and more than human power, so that she afterwards declared if she had been whipped to death in the state she then was, she should not have been terrified or dismayed. And the sheriff seeing that all the wrath of man could not move her, bid the fellow leave off striking; and then Ann Speed was suffered to dress her stripes. The next day she was turned out with all the gypsies, and the beadle followed her two miles out of the town; but as soon as he left her, she returned back, and went into the prison to see her friends, that were prisoners there, and having visited them, she went home to Bristol.

But by the way coming to Bediford, she was taken up, and put into the town-hall, and searched to see whether she had either knife or scissors about her. Next day she was brought before the mayor, who discoursing much with her, had a sense of what she spoke to him; and at last he set open two doors, one right against the other, and said he would give her her choice, which she would go out at; whether she would go forth to prison again, or go home. And she told him, that she would choose liberty rather than bonds. So she went homeward, and then he took his horse and followed; and overtaking her, would have had her ride behind him; but when any whom he knew met them, he would slacken his pace; and as soon as they were passed, he came up again to her; which she perceiving, refused to ride behind him; yet he rode three or four miles with her, and discoursed all the way: and when they parted, she kneeled down and prayed for him, all which time he was very serious, and afterwards grew very solid and sober. She writ once to him; but not long after, he died.

Being come home she was moved to go to Basingstoke, to endeavour to obtain liberty for two of her friends, viz. Thomas Robinson, and Ambrose Rigge, who were taken up at the first meeting that their friends had had there. But when she came thither the entrance of the prison was denied her. And she having a letter from John Camm to them, put it in at the chink of the door, and then she went to the mayor to desire their liberty; he told her, that if he saw the letter which she brought them, they should have their liberty. She then said he should see it; and so went and fetched it; which he having read, told her that she should have her brethren out; but that he could not let them out presently. Yet it was not long before her friends had their liberty.

Now leaving Barbara for some time, we return to Miles Halhead. In the First month of this present year, he was moved to go to Ireland, and declare the word of the Lord there; and speaking of this to James Lancaster, and Miles Bateman, they quickly resolved to keep him company, and so they went for Ireland; where they proclaimed the Truth in cities, towns, villages, and before magistrates, as occasion offered; and their testimony was received by many. After they had discharged themselves, they returned to England, where Miles soon found himself moved to go to Scotland. In his way thither, he met his friend James Lancaster, who was very free to go with him; and so they went into Scotland; but were not the first of those called Quakers in that country; for Christopher Fell, George Wilson, and John Grave, had been there before; so that a little church of those of their communion, was already planted in that kingdom, before Halhead went thither: and one Alexander Hamilton had, a year before ever any Quakers appeared in Scotland, erected a meeting at Drumbowy, and also at Heads, and he received their testimony when they came there, as also his wife Joan, James Gray, James Miller, and others. I find also that Scotland was early visited by Catherine Evans, and Sarah Cheevers, two eminent women, of whom something extraordinary is to be related in its due time.

But I return to J. Lancaster, and Miles Halhead, who being come to Dumfries, went on a First-day of the week into the steeple-house in that town, where seeing many people gathered together, howling and crying, and making great lamentation, as if they had been touched with a sense of their sins, Miles was silent until their worship was done; but then, being grieved with their deceit and hypocrisy, spoke as he was moved; but met with great opposition, many of the people being in such a rage, that they drove him and his companion out of the town, near to the side of a great river; and it was intended that the women of the town should stone them; but they prevented this by wading through the river.

Being thus safely passed the water, they went to Edinburgh and Leith, where they staid about ten days. During that time, Miles spoke to the people when occasion offered; as also to the garrisons, and to the captains and officers of the army, who were much affected, and confessed that the Lord had been very good unto them; for Miles’s message was, that the anger of the Lord was kindled against them, because they had not performed their promises, which they made to him in the day of their distress, when their enemies encompassed them on every side; for then the Lord delivered them, and gave them victory; but they had returned him evil for good, and committed violence against those he sent to declare his word amongst them. This being told them at large by Miles, he went to Glasgow and Stirling, where he also spoke as he was moved; and so returned to England.

But before I leave Scotland, I may say, that as the first meetings were at Drumbowy, and Heads, so it was not long ere meetings were settled also at Garshore, at Edinburgh, and also at Aberdeen. The first Scotch preachers of those called Quakers, I find to have been William Osborn, Richard Ree, and Alexander Hamilton, already mentioned. Of the said Hamilton, I may mention a singular instance: after he and his wife, with her and his sister, had separated themselves from the society of the Independents, it happened that Thomas Charters, a teacher of that sect, at Kilbride, not far from Drumbowy, seeing that he could not draw Hamilton, and those of his family back again, threatened them with excommunication, and appointed a day for it, giving notice thereof to Hamilton some days beforehand. Hamilton warned him to forbear, or else the anger of God would seize on him. But he answered, ‘It is but Alexander Hamilton that saith so.’ To which Hamilton returned in the presence of many witnesses, that it was not only he, but what he had said was of the Lord. But Charters persisting in what he intended, and walking two days before the appointed time in the steeple-house yard, where his horse was feeding, stepped to him to stroke him; but the horse growing wanton, gave Charters such a violent kick on his side, that he died about the same hour which was appointed by him for the excommunication. Whether this case happened in the year I now describe, I am not certain; but however, it was either in, or near it.

This year Miles Halhead came to Berwick in Northumberland, and went to the mayor of that town, and spoke to him in his shop thus; ‘Friend, hear what the servant of the Lord hath to say unto thee. Give over persecuting the Lord’s servants, whom he doth send in love to this town of Berwick, to show you the way that leads to life eternal. I charge thee, O man, touch not the Lord’s anointed, nor do his prophets any harm, lest thou procure the anger of the living eternal God against thee.’ This bold language so offended the mayor, that he sent Miles to prison, where he was about ten weeks, and then was brought to the sessions, where a bill drawn up against him, was read in open court: but he denied the contents thereof, yet said, ‘But what I said to the mayor of this town, I will not deny.’ And then he related the aforesaid words he spoke to the mayor. Whereupon the recorder said, ‘Sirs, as I understand by his own words, if he cannot prove the mayor of the town a persecutor, in my judgment he hath wronged him.’ To this Miles answered, ‘If the mayor of this town of Berwick, dare say in the presence of the Lord, whose presence is here, that he is no persecutor, but the persecuting nature is slain in him, I will be willing to abide the judgment of the court.’ Then the clerk of the court said, ‘Mr. Mayor, if you will say that you are no persecutor, but the persecuting nature is slain in you, he is willing to abide the judgment of the court.’ To this the mayor answered, ‘I know not what to do; I would I had never seen him; I pray you, let him go, and let us be no more troubled with him.’ Then Miles said that he would prove this mayor of Berwick the greatest persecutor in town or country. ‘I was once, [thus he went on,] committed to the prison in this town before, by some of the justices that are now in this court; but thou, O man, hast exceeded them all; thou hast committed me, and kept me in close prison, for about ten weeks, for speaking to thy own person, in thy own shop. Now I make my appeal to the recorder of this town of Berwick, as I am a free-born Englishman, whether my imprisonment be legal, according to the law of this nation, or not?’ Then the recorder of the town stood up and said, ‘It is not very legal for any minister of the law to imprison any man in his own cause.’ Then the court cried, ‘Take him away.’ The chief priest of the town then stood, and desired the court that he might ask Miles one question; to this Miles said, ‘The Lord knows thy heart, O man, and at this present has revealed thy thoughts to his servant; and therefore now I know thy heart also, thou high priest, and the question thou wouldst ask me: and if thou wilt promise me before the court, that if I tell thee the question thou wouldst ask me, thou wilt deal plainly with me, I will not only tell thee thy query, but I will answer it.’ Then the priest said he would. Then Miles proceeded: ‘Thy question is this: thou wouldst know whether I own that Christ that died at Jerusalem, or not?’ To this the priest wondering, said, ‘Truly that is the question.’ Then Miles said, ‘According to my promise, I will answer it before this court: in the presence of the Lord God of heaven, I own no other Christ than him that died at Jerusalem, and made a good confession before Pontius Pilate, to be the light and way that leads fallen man out of sin and evil, up to God eternal, blessed for evermore.’ More questions were not asked him, but the jailer was commanded to take him away. Yet within a short time, the court gave order to release him. Then going to Newcastle, he returned to his wife and children at Mount-joy, where we will leave him for some time, and in the meanwhile return again to G. Fox, whom we left at Cynder-hill-green[7], from hence he travelled up and down in Yorkshire, as far as Holderness, visiting his friends, and finding the churches in a flourishing state. To relate all his occurrences there, would be beyond my pale.

[7] _Possibly Sinderhill-green.--Transcriber._

Passing then through the countries, he went to Lincolnshire, and to the meeting where he was, came the sheriff of Lincoln, who made great contention for a time; but at length the power of the Lord so reached him, that he was convinced of the Truth, as were several others also that did oppose him.

Whilst G. Fox was in this country, the church of his friends increased, and many received the doctrine preached by him, and amongst these, was one sir Richard Wrey, with his brother, and the brother’s wife, who both continued steadfast till they died; but sir Richard found this way so narrow, that he afterwards ran out; for persecution in that time fell so fast on those called Quakers, that none could abide in their society, but such as were willing to hazard all.

G. Fox now went to Derbyshire, and the abovesaid sheriff of Lincoln travelling with him, they came into Nottinghamshire, and so into the Peak country, where having a meeting at Thomas Hammersley’s, several ranters came and opposed him; and when he reproved them for swearing, they said Abraham, Jacob, and Joseph swore. But though G. Fox did not deny this, yet he said, ‘Christ, (who said before Abraham was, I am,) saith, Swear not at all. And Christ ends the prophets, as also the old priesthood, and the dispensation of Moses; and he reigns over the house of Jacob, and of Joseph, and saith, Swear not at all. And God when he bringeth in the first-begotten into the world, saith, Let all the angels of God worship him, to wit, Christ Jesus, who saith, Swear not at all. And as for the plea that men make for swearing to end their strife, Christ, who says, Swear not at all, destroys the devil and his works, who is the author of strife; for that is one of his works. And God said, This is my beloved Son in whom I am well pleased, hear ye him. So the Son is to be heard, who forbids swearing: and the apostle James, who did hear the Son of God, and followed him, and preached him, forbids also all oaths.’ Thus G. Fox prevailed, and many were convinced that day. It is remarkable that Thomas Hammersley, being summoned upon a jury, was admitted to serve without an oath; and when he being foreman brought in the verdict, the judge did declare, that he had been a judge so many years, but never heard a more upright verdict than that the Quaker had then brought in.

G. Fox travelling on, came to Swanington, in Leicestershire, where there was a general meeting, to which many of his friends came from several parts, and among these, J. Audland, and F. Howgill, from Bristol; and E. Burrough, from London. After this, G. Fox came to Twycross, and some ranters there sang and danced before him; but he reproved them so earnestly, that some of them were reached, and became modest and sober.

Then he went to Drayton, his birth-place, to visit his relations; where Nathaniel Stevens, the priest, having gotten another priest, sent for him. G. Fox, having been three years abroad, knew nothing of their design, but yet at last he went to the steeple-house yard, where the two priests had gathered abundance of people; and they would have had him gone into the steeple-house: but he asked them what he should do there; and it was answered him, Mr. Stevens could not bear the cold. At which G. Fox said, ‘He may bear it as well as I.’ At last they went into a great hall, R. Farnsworth being with him, where they entered into a dispute with the priests concerning their practice, how contrary it was to Christ and his apostles. The priests asked where tithes were forbidden, or ended; whereupon G. Fox showed them out of the epistle to the Hebrews, chap. vii. that not only tithes, but the priesthood that took tithes, was ended; and that the law was ended and disannulled, by which the priesthood was made, and tithes were commanded to be paid. Moreover, he, knowing Steven’s condition, laid open his manner of preaching, showing, that he, like the rest of the priests, did apply the promises to the first birth, which must die; whereas the promises were to the seed, not to many seeds, but to the one seed, Christ, who was one in male and female: for all were to be born again, before they could enter into the kingdom of God. Then Stevens said, that he must not judge so. But G. Fox told him, he that was spiritual judged all things. Stevens confessed, that this was a full scripture: but ‘Neighbours,’ said he, ‘this is the business; G. Fox is come to the light of the sun, and now he thinks to put out my star-light.’ To this G. Fox returned, that he would not quench the least measure of God in any, much less put out his star-light, if it were true star-light, light from the morning star: but that if he had any thing from Christ, or God, he ought to speak it freely, and not take tithes from the people for preaching; seeing Christ commanded his ministers to give freely, as they had received freely. But Stevens said, he would not yield to that.