This letter was delivered to O. Cromwell, in the Fourth month, and in
the month following E. Burrough wrote again to him, that the good name
PROTECTOR, by the great oppression, acted in his name, was abused and
subverted; and that instead of protection by it, great injustice was
acted under it, and covered with it. Besides, that several justices of
the peace, and other officers, in trust under him, when they had owned
the people called Quakers, had been cast out of their places; though
they had not denied to serve him and the commonwealth, neither had
unfaithfulness to their trust been proved against them.
In September, E. Burrough wrote another letter to Cromwell, wherein he
signified to him, that he had many enemies, some of which endeavoured
to destroy him by any means, without regarding the danger that might be
in the attempt. And that he going on in oppressing through tyranny, or
suffering it, perhaps the Lord might raise up the wicked to be a plague
to wickedness, and suffer the oppressors to overthrow oppressions.
That there were others, viz. the Fifth Monarchy men, who, though not
so bad as the former, yet secretly murmured against him, and envied
him, not being friends to his government, some of them being cast out
and rejected, without just cause, as they supposed. ‘And as to us, how
can we, (said he,) mention thee in our prayers to God, except it be to
be delivered from thee, who are daily unjustly sufferers by thee, or
because of thee? Or how can we be friends to that government, under
which we daily suffer such hard and cruel things, as the loss of our
liberty and estates, and are in danger of life also?’
It was about the beginning of this year, that Christopher Birkhead came
to Zealand, having been before at Rochelle, in France, where, having
spoken and written against the popish religion, he was imprisoned and
examined by the bishop: and some would have had him burnt, but the
criminal judge absolved him. It was in the latter end of the month
called February, when he came to Middleburgh, in Zealand; and going to
the English congregation there, after the preacher, William Spanke,
had preached about three quarters of an hour, he said, ‘Friends, the
apostle saith, that we may all prophesy, one by one; that two or
three prophets may speak, and the others judge; and if any thing be
revealed to another that sitteth by, let the first hold his peace.’
This speaking caused a great stir in the congregation, and the rather,
because he stood in the place where the women used to sit: so he was
apprehended by order of the magistrates, and examined in the presence
of some of the public preachers. When he was asked what his name was?
He answered, that his name, according to the flesh, was Christopher
Birkhead. Then it was asked him, whether he had yet another name?
And his answer was, ‘Yes, written in the Lamb’s book of life.’ Being
inquired what that name was, he made answer, ‘None knows it but he that
hath it.’ To which was said, ‘Why, if you have it, tell it us.’ ‘No,’
replied he, ‘read it, if ye have seen the book of the Lamb opened: it
is forbidden me to tell it.’ Then the English teacher, Spanke, asked
whether he had seen the book of the Lamb opened? And he answered,
‘Yea.’ The next question was, whether he had opened it? ‘No,’ said
Birkhead, ‘it was the Lamb that did it.’ Then Spanke asked, whether
his name in the book of the Lamb was not Jesus. ‘No,’ quoth Birkhead,
‘that is the name of the Lamb.’ More other questions to ensnare him,
Spanke put to him; and being examined by the magistrates concerning
the place of his abode, his calling or trade, &c. Spanke was asked,
what he had to say against him? Who then related what had happened in
the congregation. Concerning this, several questions were asked of
Birkhead, but since he understood not Dutch, and the French tongue but
imperfectly, he complained that he could not fully answer for himself
so as he wished. He was asked also, whether any body else came along
with him? And he was charged to speak the truth. To which he said,
that God did not permit him to lie. One of the preachers then said
that all men were liars. To this Birkhead replied, that though all men
were liars, yet he knew a deliverance from lying. Then Spanke bid him,
not to add to the Scriptures: for Birkhead had accused him a little
before, that he had added his meaning to the Scriptures. And it being
strongly asserted, that all men were liars, Birkhead took occasion from
thence, to ask Spanke whether he was a liar? Who, without hesitation,
answering, ‘Yes,’ Birkhead bluntly told him, ‘Then thou art of thy
father the devil.’ Now the matter of J. Nayler having caused strange
reports of the Quakers every where, and Birkhead, for want of the
language, not being able to answer so plainly every objection, his
offence, without question, was aggravated the more; and the conclusion
was, that he was sentenced to be confined in the house of correction.
But after some time he was released, at the intercession of the Heer
Newport, ambassador of the States General in England.
In this year it was, I think, that one George Baily coming into France,
was taken into custody, and died in prison there; he having zealously
testified against popery, and spoken boldly against worshipping of
images.
William Ames returning this year to Amsterdam, and one Humble Thatcher,
(whom I could never learn to have been truly in communion with the
Quakers,) coming with him, it caused some jealousy: for Ames, who
formerly had been in military employment, was an extraordinary bold
man; and about this time it seems, a paper was put on the door of the
English meeting-house, though Ames declared he knew nothing of it, or
who was the author. About this time also, the strange business of J.
Nayler being noised abroad, by a book that was published in print at
Amsterdam, and some other pamphlets, stuffed with several untruths, and
abominable lies; it was not to be wondered at, that the magistrates
fearing some mischief, sent for Ames and Thatcher to appear before
them, and commanded them to depart the town within twenty four hours:
but they being persuaded of their own innocency, did not obey this
command. The next day appearing again before the magistrates, and not
putting off their hats, it seems they were looked upon as such as did
not own magistrates; (for this the Quakers stood charged with in public
print, and were compared to the tumultuous crew of Anabaptists, or
Fifth Monarchy men, at Munster, in the foregoing age:) and so they were
kept in custody for some days, and then at night were led through the
Regulars gate, and so banished out of the town. But W. Ames judging
that he had committed no evil, came again the next day into the city,
and passed the great market-place, called the dam. It is reported,
that some of the magistrates seeing him out of the windows of the
town-house, walking along the street, said, ‘Lo, there’s the Quaker;
if we had a mind now to make martyrs, here would be an opportunity for
it.’ But it seems not without reason, that it was looked upon to be
most safe to wink at this; for though strange reports were spread up
and down of the Quakers, yet there was no proof of their evil carriage
here. Meanwhile Ames staid some time in town, and the doctrine he
preached found a little entrance, even with some of the collegians.
It was about this time, that my parents, viz. Jacob Williamson Sewel,
of Utrecht, free citizen and Surgeon at Amsterdam, and his wife, Judith
Zinspenning, born in this town, both members of the Flemish Baptists
church there, were convinced of the Truth preached by W. Ames; she
having before had immediate openings, that if ever she would become
a child of God, she must give heed to this light, which reproved for
sin. They, with two or three more, were the first orthodox Quakers
in Amsterdam; orthodox I say, because I very well remember what a
strange and odd sort of people about that time, did flock to the
Quakers in this country. But these whimsical people not being sincere
in heart: but more inclined to novelties, than to true godliness;
perceived in time that they were not regarded by them: and they were
also contradicted by Ames and others; so that at length after many
exorbitancies, they left the Quakers.
In the forepart of this year, William Caton came also to Amsterdam.
Before he left England, he had had a meeting at the east side of
Sussex, on the day called Shrove Tuesday, where there had never been
any of his friends before. But the people being on that day more rude
than ordinary, came up to the house with a drum, in such a desperate
manner, as if they would have pulled the house down. Caton stepping
out, asked what they wanted; they answered, Quakers; at which he told
them he was one. And he spoke so plainly to them, and with so much
power, that fear falling upon them, they withdrew with shame and
confusion.
Not long after he went to London, and from thence to Holland; and being
safely arrived at Rotterdam, he repaired to Amsterdam; where he came in
due time to stop the unruliness of some froward spirits, among which
one Anne Garghil, an English woman, was not one of the least: whose
rudeness grew in time to that degree, that she would not suffer W. Ames
to preach peaceably in the meeting, but laid violent hands on him; so
that at length to be rid of her, he bade an English seaman that was
present, to take her away, which was done accordingly: and how haughty
she was, and continued, I well remember still. W. Caton procured also
some books to be printed at Amsterdam, to prevent evil and malicious
reports concerning the Quakers; and he went with W. Ames to Zutphen
in Guelderland; where meeting with nothing but opposition, he returned
to Amsterdam, and from thence by Leyden and the Hague, to Rotterdam;
from which place he went to Zealand, where he wrote the book called
‘The Moderate Enquirer Resolved,’ both in Latin and English, which was
afterwards translated indifferently into Dutch. After some stay, Caton
returned again to England, and came to London, where the society of his
friends was in a thriving condition, and many were added to the church.
In this city we left G. Fox: he wrote there several papers for the
opening of the understandings of people, and for the edification of
his friends. From thence he travelled into Kent, Sussex, and Surry;
and coming to Basingstoke, though the people were rude there, yet he
had a quiet meeting in the place: in the inn he had some trouble with
the innkeeper, who was a drunkard. Afterwards he came to Portsmouth,
Exeter, Bristol, and into Wales, where many came to him. At Brecknock,
(where he was accompanied by Thomas Holmes, who, first of the Quakers
in Wales, had preached the doctrine of the inward light; and by
John-ap-John, who three years before had been sent by a priest out of
Wales into the North, to inquire what kind of people the Quakers were;)
he had a great meeting in the steeple-house yard, where was a priest,
and one Walter Jenkin who had been a justice, and another justice. Here
he preached so effectually, that many were convinced: and after the
meeting, he went with Jenkin to the other justice’s house, who said to
him, ‘You have this day given great satisfaction to the people, and
answered all the objections that were in their minds.’ At Leominster
he had a great meeting, where priest Tombs made some opposition, by
saying, that the light G. Fox spoke of, was but a natural light; but
G. Fox asserted the contrary, and said, that he had spoken of no other
light than John bore witness to, viz. “The word which was in the
beginning with God, and which word was God; and that was the true light
which enlighteneth every man that cometh into the world.”
G. Fox coming from this place to Tenby, as he rode in the street, a
justice of peace came out and desired him to alight, and to stay at his
house, which he did; and on the First-day of the week had a meeting
there, whither the mayor and his wife, and several others of the chief
of the town came. John-ap-John, who was then with G. Fox, left the
meeting, and went to the steeple-house, and was by the Governor cast
into prison. The next morning the governor sent one of his officers to
the justice’s house, to fetch G. Fox; which grieved the mayor and the
justice, and so they went up to the Governor, and a while after G. Fox
went with the officer, and coming in, said ‘Peace be unto this house;’
and before the Governor could examine him, he asked, why he had cast
his friend into prison? and the governor answered, ‘For standing with
his hat on in the church.’ ‘Why,’ resumed G. Fox, ‘had not the priest
two caps on his head, a black one and a white one? And if the brim
of the hat, which was but to defend from the weather, had been cut
off, then my friend would have had but one cap,’ ‘These are frivolous
things,’ said the governor: ‘Why then,’ said G. Fox, ‘dost thou cast my
friend into prison for such frivolous things?’ Then the governor asked
him, whether he owned election and reprobation? ‘Yes,’ said he, ‘and
thou art in the reprobation.’ This so incensed the governor, that he
told G. Fox, he would send him to prison, till he proved it. G. Fox not
at all at a loss, said, ‘I will prove that quickly, if thou wilt but
confess truth:’ and then he asked him, whether wrath, fury, and rage,
and persecution, were not marks of reprobation? For he that was born
of the flesh, persecuted him that was born of the spirit; and Christ
and his apostles never persecuted nor imprisoned any. This speech of
his so struck the governor, that he fairly confessed, that he had too
much wrath, haste, and passion in him: which made G. Fox say, that Esau
the first birth was up in him, not Jacob the second birth. By this the
man was so reached, that he confessed to Truth, and inviting G. Fox
to dinner with him, he set his friend at liberty. It was with great
satisfaction that G. Fox departed the town; and in several other places
of Wales he had some singular occurrences; and though the people were
rude, yet some were convinced.
At length he came to Lancaster, where, at the inn, he met with colonel
West, who was very glad to see him. Next he came to Swarthmore, where
he wrote some epistles and other papers. After having staid there some
days, he went to some other places in the North, and to Scotland. Here,
travelling from town to town, he met with great opposition from some
priests: for in an assembly, they had drawn up several articles, or
curses, to be read in their steeple-houses, the first of which was,
‘cursed is he that saith every man hath a light within him sufficient
to lead him to salvation: and let all the people say, Amen.’ An
independent pastor preaching one day against the Quakers, and the
light, and calling the light natural, cursed it, and so fell down as
dead in his pulpit; the people carrying him out, and pouring strong
waters into him, it brought him to life again; but he was mopish, and,
as one of his hearers said, he never recovered his senses.
In October G. Fox came to Edinburgh, where he was summoned to appear
before the council, who, though indifferently civil, yet told him,
he must depart the nation of Scotland by that day seven-night:
against which he not only spoke but wrote also. Whilst G. Fox was in
Scotland, his friends there were brought to a great strait; for, being
excommunicated by the Presbyterian teachers, charge was given, that
none should buy or sell, nor eat nor drink with them. Hence it came
to pass, that some having bought bread, or other victuals, of their
neighbours, these frightened with the curses of their priests, did run,
and fetch it from them again. But colonel Ashton, a justice of peace,
put a stop to these proceedings, and being afterwards convinced of the
Truth, had a meeting settled at his house, and declared the Truth, and
lived and died in it.
G. Fox now travelled almost over all Scotland, and had in some places
good opportunities to declare the gospel, being often heard with
satisfaction by the English soldiers; but the Scotch generally gave
little heed. He went also among the Highlanders, who were a mischievous
people. Returning at length to Leith, the innkeeper told him, that the
council had granted forth warrants to apprehend him, because he was not
gone out of the nation after the seven days were expired, that they
had ordered him to depart in. Some others told him the same, to whom
he said, ‘What do you tell me of their warrants against me? If there
were a cart load of them I do not heed them; for the Lord’s power is
over them all.’ From Leith he went to Edinburgh again, and went to
the inn where he had lodged before, and no man offered to meddle with
him. Alexander Parker and Robert Widders being also there, he resolved
to go with Parker to Johnston, out of which town some time before he
had been led by soldiers; and he came into Johnston just as they were
drawing up the bridges, the officers and soldiers never questioning
him. And coming to captain Davenport’s house, from which he had been
hauled before, he found there many officers, who lifting up their
hands, wondered that he came again; but he told them, the Lord God
hath sent him amongst them again. Then the Baptists sent him a letter
by way of challenge, that they would discourse with him again the next
day. And he sent them word, that he would meet them at a certain house,
about half a mile out of the town, at such an hour. For he thought if
he should stay in town to speak with them, they might, under pretence
of discoursing with him, have raised people to carry him out of the
town again, as they had done before. At the time appointed he went to
the place, captain Davenport and his son accompanying him; and there
he staid some hours, but none of them came; whereby the intent of the
Baptists was sufficiently discovered. Being thus disappointed, he went
back again to Edinburgh, and past through the town, as it were, against
the cannon’s mouth. The next day, being the first day of the week, he
went to the meeting in the city, and many officers and soldiers came
to it, and all was quiet. The following day he went to Dunbar, where
walking with a friend or two of his in the steeple-house yard, and
meeting with one of the chief men of the town there; he spoke to one
of his friends to tell him, that about the ninth hour next morning,
there was to be a meeting there, of the people of God, called Quakers,
of which they desired him to give notice to the people of the town.
To which he said, that they were to have a lecture there by the ninth
hour; but that a meeting might be kept there by the eighth hour, if
they would. G. Fox thinking this not inconvenient, desired him to give
notice of it. Accordingly in the morning many came, both poor and rich;
and a captain of horse being quartered in the town, came there with his
troopers also. To this company G. Fox preached, and after some time
the priest came, and went into the steeple-house; but G. Fox and his
friend being in the steeple-house yard, most of the people staid with
them; so that the priest having but few hearers, made short work, and
coming out, stood a while and heard G. Fox, and then went away. This
was the last meeting he had in Scotland, and he understood afterwards,
that his labour had not been in vain, but that the number of believers
increased. Now he departed from Dunbar, and came to Berwick in
Northumberland, and from thence to Newcastle, where we will leave him
awhile, and return again to New England.
We have seen before, that a law was made there, to prevent the Quakers
coming into that country. The first I find that came after that, were
Anne Burden, a widow, whose business was to gather up some debts in
the country, that were due to her; and Mary Dyer from Rhode Island,
who, before her coming, knew nothing of what had been done there
concerning the Quakers. These two were both imprisoned, which William
Dyer, Mary’s husband, hearing, came from Rhode Island, and did not get
her released without a great deal of pains; becoming bound in a great
penalty, not to lodge her in any town in that colony, nor to permit any
to speak with her: an evident token that he was not of the society of
Quakers, so called, for otherwise he would not have entered into such
a bond; but then without question, he would also have been clapped up
in prison. As for Anne Burden, she was kept in prison, though sick,
about a quarter of a year. Whilst she was in this restraint, some
tender-hearted people had procured of her debts to the value of about
thirty pounds in goods; and when she at length was to be sent away, she
desired that she might have liberty to pass for England, by Barbadoes,
because her goods were not fit for England. Now how reasonable soever
this request was, yet a master of a ship was compelled to carry her to
England, without her goods, for which she came there, except to the
value of about six shillings, which an honest man sent her upon an old
account. And when the master of the ship asked who should pay for her
passage, the magistrates bid him take so much of her goods as would
answer it. But he was too honest to do so, being persuaded that she
would not let him be a loser, though he could not compel her to pay,
since she went not of her own will: yet for all that she paid him at
London. After she was gone, when he that had the first trust from her
husband, was to convey her goods to Barbadoes, these rapacious people
stopped to the value of six pounds ten shillings for her passage, for
which they paid nothing, and seven shillings for boat-hire to carry her
on ship-board, though the master proffered the governor to carry her in
his own boat, but that was not allowed; she being sent with the hangman
in a boat that was pressed: besides, they took to the value of fourteen
shillings for the jailer, to whom she owed nothing. Now, though this
widow had made such a great voyage, to get something of what was due to
her, to relieve her, and her fatherless children, yet after three years
she had nothing of it come to her hands; and whether she got any thing
since I never understood.
The next of the Quakers that came to Boston, was Mary Clark, who,
having left her husband, John Clark, a merchant taylor, with her
children at London, came thither to warn these persecutors to desist
from their iniquity: but after she had delivered her message, she was
unmercifully rewarded with twenty stripes of a whip with three cords,
on her naked back, and detained prisoner about twelve weeks in the
winter season. The cords of these whips were commonly as thick as a
man’s little finger, having each some knots at the end; and the stick
was sometimes so long, that the hangman made use of both his hands to
strike the harder.
The next that came were Christopher Holder and John Copeland, who
had been banished before; and coming to Salem, a town in the same
colony, Holder spoke a few words in their meeting, after the priest
had done; but was hauled back by the hair of his head, and a glove
and handkerchief thrust into his mouth, and so turned out with his
companion; and next day had to Boston, where each of them received
thirty stripes with a knotted whip of three cords, the hangman
measuring his ground, and fetching his strokes with the greatest
strength he could: which so cruelly cut their flesh, that a woman
seeing it fell down as dead. Then they were locked up in prison, and
the jailer kept them three days without any food, not giving them so
much as a draught of water; and so close that none might come to speak
with them; lying on the boards without bed or straw. Thus they were
kept nine weeks prisoners, without fire, in the cold winter season. And
Samuel Shattock, of Salem, who endeavoured to stop the thrusting of the
glove and handkerchief into Holder’s mouth, lest it should have choaked
him, was also carried to Boston, and there imprisoned, till he had
given bond for twenty pounds, to answer it at the next court, and not
to come at any meeting of the Quakers.
The career of this cruelty did not stop here; for Lawrence Southick
and Cassandra, his wife, members of the public church at Salem, and an
ancient and grave couple, having entertained the aforesaid C. Holder
and J. Copeland, were committed to prison, and sent to Boston, where
Lawrence being released, his wife was kept seven weeks prisoner, and
then fined forty shillings for owning a paper of exhortation, written
by the aforesaid Holder and Copeland.
The next that came from England, as being under a necessity from the
Lord to come to this land of persecution, was Richard Dowdney, who was
apprehended at Dedham, and brought to Boston, having never before been
in that country; yet he was not spared for all that, but thirty stripes
were also given him in like manner as the former. And after twenty days
imprisonment, he was sent away with Holder and Copeland; after having
been threatened with cutting off their ears, if they returned. These
cruel dealings, so affected many inhabitants, that some withdrew from
the public assemblies, and meeting by themselves quietly on the First
days of the week, they were fined five shillings a week, and committed
to prison. The first whose lot this was, were the aforesaid Lawrence
and Cassandra Southick, and their son Josiah, who, being carried to
Boston, were all of them, notwithstanding the old age of the two, sent
to the house of correction, and whipped with cords, as those before, in
the coldest season of the year, and had taken from them to the value of
four pounds thirteen shillings, for not coming to church.
Leaving New England for a while, I will turn another way. It was in
this year, about the latter end of summer, that a certain young man
named George Robinson, felt a motion to travel to Jerusalem. In order
thereunto, he embarked in a ship bound for Leghorn, in Italy, where,
having staid about two weeks, being daily visited by English and
others, he went with a French ship towards St. John D’Acre, formerly
called Ptolemais, a city in Asia bordering upon the Mediterranean sea,
near Palestine, where, having lodged about eight days in a French
merchant’s house, he embarked in a vessel bound for Jaffa or Joppa.
What occurred by the way with some Turks, who demanded unreasonable
tribute of him, I pass by; but a certain Armenian on that occasion
having seen his meek behaviour, said, he was a good Christian, and was
very kind to him. Being arrived at Jaffa, he went to Ramoth, but the
Friars at Jerusalem having heard of his coming, gave orders to some
to stop him, which was done accordingly; and after having been locked
up about a day, there came an ancient Turk, a man of great repute,
who took him into his house, and courteously entertained him. After
four or five days there came an Irish friar from Jerusalem, with whom,
falling into discourse of religious matters, the friar at first behaved
himself kindly, but told him afterwards, that was not the business he
came about, but that he was sent from his brethren, the friars, at
Jerusalem, to propound to him some questions.
1. Whether he would promise, when he came to Jerusalem, that he
would visit the holy places as other pilgrims did?