THE SIXTH BOOK. 1661-1664.

1661.

The year 1661 being come, the government was altogether changed.

Charles the Second was now seated on the throne of England in peace,

and the power of persecution seemed somewhat restrained; so that there

was an appearance of some quiet and calm. Therefore I will now take a

turn to New England, to draw back the curtains of the bloody stage at

Boston. We have already seen in the foregoing relation, how William

Robinson, Marmaduke Stevenson, and Mary Dyar, were put to death by

their persecutors, but their blood-thirstiness was not yet quenched.

William Leddra, who was banished from Boston on pain of death, was

under such necessity of conscience, that he could not forbear returning

thither; where he came about the conclusion of the foregoing year; but

was soon taken prisoner, and being fastened to a log of wood, was kept

night and day locked in chains, in an open prison, during a very cold

winter; where we will leave him for the present, and in the meanwhile

insert here an apology of the Boston persecutors concerning their

cruel carriage, which may serve to confirm the truth of what hath been

already related of their wicked dealings. For it seems, that fearing

their bloody deeds would be disapproved by the court of England, they

thought it safest for them to gild their transactions with a specious

pretence; though this was of no other effect than that thereby they

yet more exposed their own shame to public view, and in process of

time they also incurred the King’s displeasure; for though Charles the

Second was inclined to voluptuousness, yet he was good-natured, and

the persecution in his reign proceeded chiefly from the instigation of

other malicious men. But to come to the apology or declaration of the

bloody persecutors, it was as followeth:

‘Although the justice of our proceedings against Wm. Robinson,

Marmaduke Stevenson, and Mary Dyar, supported by the authority

of this court, the laws of this country, and the law of God,

may rather persuade us to expect encouragement and commendation

from all prudent and pious men, than convince us of any

necessity to apologize for the same: yet for as much as men of

weaker parts, out of pity and commiseration, a commendable and

Christian virtue, yet easily abused, and susceptible of sinister

and dangerous impressions, for want of a full information, may

be less satisfied; and men of perverser principles, led to

calumniate us, and render us as bloody persecutors; to satisfy

the one, and stop the mouths of the other, we thought it

requisite to declare, about three years since, divers persons

professing themselves Quakers, (of whose pernicious opinions

and practices we had received intelligence from good hands from

Barbadoes and England,) arrived at Boston, whose persons where

only secured to be sent away the first opportunity, without

censure or punishment, although their professed tenets, turbulent

and contemptuous behaviour to authority, would have justified

a severer animadversion; yet the prudence of this court was

exercised, only in making provision to secure the peace and order

here established, against their attempts, whose design, (we were

well assured by our own experience, as well as by the example of

their predecessors in Munster,) was to undermine and ruin the

same.

‘And accordingly a law was made and published, prohibiting all

masters of ships, to bring any Quakers into this jurisdiction,

and themselves from coming in on penalty of the house of

correction, till they should be sent away. Notwithstanding which,

by a back door they found entrance, and the penalty inflicted on

themselves proving insufficient to restrain their impudent and

insolent obtrusions, was increased by the loss of the ears of

those who offended the second time; which also being too weak

a defence against their impetuous frantic fury, necessitated

us to endeavour our security; and upon serious consideration,

after the former experiments by their incessant assaults, a law

was made, that such persons should be banished upon pain of

death, according to the example of England, in their provision

against Jesuits; which sentence being regularly pronounced at

the last court of assistants, against the parties above named,

and they either returning, or continuing presumptuously in this

jurisdiction after the time limited, were apprehended, and owning

themselves to be the persons banished, were sentenced by the

court to death, according to the law aforesaid, which hath been

executed upon two of them. Mary Dyar, (upon petition of her son,

and the mercy and clemency of this court,) had liberty to depart

within two days; which she hath accepted of. The consideration

of our gradual proceeding will vindicate us from the clamorous

accusations of severity, our own just and necessary defence

calling upon us, (other means failing,) to offer the point,

which these persons have violently and wilfully rushed upon,

and thereby become felons _de se_; which, might it have been

prevented, and the sovereign law, _salus populi_, been preserved,

our former proceedings, as well as the sparing Mary Dyar upon

an inconsiderable intercession, will manifestly evince, that we

desire their lives absent, rather than their deaths present.

EDWARD RAWSON, _Secretary_.’

In this apology, wherein the Quakers, (who always were an harmless

people, and never made resistance with outward arms,) are compared to

the mutinous and riotous Anabaptists of Munster, it is also said of

them, that by a back door they found entrance. And this reflects on

some who unexpectedly came into New England by land, since they could

find no opportunity to come by sea, because the ship-masters fearing

the severity of the Boston laws, were unwilling to carry any Quakers

thither. This gave occasion to Thomas Thirstone, (who having been

already at Boston, was sent away on board a ship,) to think on other

means; for finding himself moved in spirit to go thither again, he and

Josiah Cole, of whom mention hath been made before, and who may be

further spoken of hereafter, went from England to Virginia, from whence

they, with one Thomas Chapman, travelled several hundreds of miles on

foot through vast wildernesses and woods, and so at length came into

New England, which made the persecutors there astonished; for they

thought this impossible, that way having been counted impassable for

other men than the Indians, many of whom in those parts are warlike

men, who behaved themselves well toward our travellers, whose journey

however was very hard; for they had not only hunger and cold, it being

winter time, to encounter with, but they were also in danger of being

devoured by wild beasts, or of perishing in unknown marshes or bogs.

But they were preserved by an Almighty hand; though this marvellous

passage was represented like a criminal sauciness, by these New England

persecutors.

It seems to me that the aforesaid apology, which was published in

print, and likewise answered, was given forth before Mary Dyar was

put to death; but after her death the general court of Boston sent

over an address to king Charles the Second, signed by their governor

John Endicot, to justify their cruel proceedings. Herein they said,

that they had chosen rather the pure Scripture worship, with a good

conscience, in that remote wilderness among the heathen, than the

pleasures of England, with subjection to the imposition of the then

so disposed, and so far prevailing hierarchy, which they could not do

without an evil conscience.

Concerning the Quakers, they said, that they were open capital

blasphemers, and seducers from the glorious Trinity, the Lord Christ,

the blessed gospel; open enemies to the government itself; and

malignant promoters of doctrines directly tending to subvert both

church and state.

Moreover they said, that at last they had been constrained for their

own safety, to pass a sentence of banishment against them on pain of

death, since the magistrate in conscience judged himself called for the

defence of all to keep the passage with the point of the sword held

towards them; and that this could do no harm to them that would be

warned thereby. But the Quakers rushing themselves thereupon was their

own act, and a crime, bringing their blood upon their own heads.

Could they have made the king believe this, they would willingly have

done it; but he had too much sense to be thus imposed upon, though

they did whatever they could to prevent his hearing the other party,

in order whereunto they said, ‘Let not the king hear men’s words; your

servants are true men, fearers of God and the king, and not given to

change, zealous of government and order; not seditious to the interest

of Cæsar.’

How smooth and plausible soever this seemed, yet it could not stand the

test; and E. Burrough, who answered it in print, addressed the king

thus:

‘O king, this my occasion to present thee with these

considerations is very urgent, and of great necessity, even in

the behalf of innocent blood, hoping that my work will find such

favour with thee, as to induce thee to the reading and serious

consideration thereof.’

E. Burrough then examining all their pretended reasons, represented

also to the king how some of these petitioners some time before had not

stuck to write in a letter from Boston to one Gordon: ‘There is more

danger in these Quakers, to trouble and overcome England, than in the

king of Scots, and all the popish princes in Germany;’ which plainly

denoted, that they reputed the king a troubler of England, whom they

numbered with the popish princes of Germany. What E. Burrough obtained

of the king for his friends, we may see hereafter.

But first I return to William Leddra, whom I left in prison: it was

on the 9th of the First month of this year, that he was brought into

the court of assistants, with his chains and log at his heels. And he

asking the jailer, when he intended to take off the irons from his

legs, the jailer roughly answered, ‘When thou art going to be hanged.’

W. Leddra then being brought to the bar, it was told him by the rulers,

speaking of their law, that he was found guilty, and so, that he was

to die. He said, ‘What evil have I done?’ The answer was, his own

confession was as good as a thousand witnesses. He asked, what that

was? To which they answered, that he owned these Quakers that were put

to death, and that they were innocent. Besides, that he would not put

off his hat in court, and that he said thee and thou. Then said William

to them, ‘You will put me to death for speaking English, and for not

putting off my clothes?’ To this major-general Denison returned, ‘A man

may speak treason in English.’ And William replied, ‘Is it treason to

say thee and thou to a single person?’ But none answered, only Simon

Broadstreet, one of the court, asked him, whether he would go for

England? To which he answered, ‘I have no business there.’ Hereupon

Broadstreet, pointing to the gallows, said, ‘Then you shall go that

way.’ To which William returned, ‘What, will ye put me to death for

breathing in the air in your jurisdiction? And for what you have

against me I appeal to the laws of England for my trial; and if by

them I am guilty, I refuse not to die.’ Of this no notice was taken,

but instead thereof, they endeavoured to persuade him to recant of

his error, (as they styled it,) and to conform; to which with a grave

magnanimity he answered, ‘What! to join with such murderers as you are?

Then let every man that meets me say, lo this is the man that hath

forsaken the God of his salvation.’

Whilst the trial of W. Leddra was thus going on, Wenlock Christison,

who was already banished upon pain of death, came into the court. This

struck a damp upon them, insomuch that for some space of time there

was silence in the court: but at length one of the bloody council

cried, ‘Here is another, fetch him up to the bar,’ Which the marshal

performing, the secretary Rawson said, ‘Is not your name Wenlock

Christison?’ ‘Yea,’ said Wenlock. ‘Well,’ said the governor, John

Endicot, ‘what dost thou here? Wast thou not banished upon pain of

death?’ To which Wenlock answered, ‘Yea, I was.’ And to the question,

‘What dost thou here then?’ he answered, ‘I am come here to warn you

that you should shed no more innocent blood; for the blood that you

have shed already, cries to the Lord God for vengeance to come upon

you.’ Whereupon it was said, ‘Take him away, jailer.’

It having been told W. Leddra, that at the last general court he

had liberty given him to go for England, or to go out of their

jurisdiction; and that promising to do so, and come there no more, he

might save his life; he answered, ‘I stand not in my own will, but in

the will of the Lord: if I may have my freedom, I shall go, but to make

you a promise I cannot.’ But this was so far from giving content, that

they proceeded to pronounce sentence of death against him; which being

done, he was led from the court to prison again, where the day before

his death he wrote the following letter to his friends:

‘_Most dear and inwardly beloved_,

‘The sweet influences of the morning star, like a flood

distilling into my innocent habitation, hath so filled me with

the joy of the Lord in the beauty of holiness, that my spirit

is as if it did not inhabit a tabernacle of clay, but is wholly

swallowed up in the bosom of eternity, from whence it had its

being.

‘Alas, alas, what can the wrath and spirit of man, that lusteth

to envy, aggravated by the heat and strength of the king of the

locusts, which came out of the pit, do unto one that is hid

in the secret places of the Almighty, or unto them that are

gathered under the healing wings of the Prince of Peace? under

whose armour of light they shall be able to stand in the day of

trial, having on the breastplate of righteousness, and the sword

of the spirit, which is their weapon of war against spiritual

wickedness, principalities, and powers, and the rulers of the

darkness of this world, both within and without. Oh, my beloved!

I have waited as a dove at the windows of the ark, and have

stood still in that watch, which the Master, (without whom I

could do nothing,) did at his coming reward with fulness of his

love, wherein my heart did rejoice, that I might in the love and

life of God speak a few words to you sealed with the spirit of

promise, that the taste thereof might be a savour of life, to

your life, and a testimony in you of my innocent death: and if I

had been altogether silent, and the Lord had not opened my mouth

unto you, yet he would have opened your hearts, and there have

sealed my innocency with the streams of life, by which we are

all baptized into that body which is in God, whom and in whose

presence there is life; in which, as you abide, you stand upon

the pillar and ground of truth; for, the life being the truth

and the way, go not one step without it, lest you should compass

a mountain in the wilderness; for unto every thing there is a

season.

‘As the flowing of the ocean doth fill every creek and branch

thereof, and then retires again towards its own being and

fulness, and leaves a savour behind it, so doth the life and

virtue of God flow into every one of your hearts, whom he hath

made partakers of his divine nature; and when it withdraws but a

little, it leaves a sweet savour behind it, that many can say,

they are made clean through the word that he hath spoken to them:

in which innocent condition you may see what you are in the

presence of God, and what you are without him. Therefore, my dear

hearts, let the enjoyment of the life alone be your hope, your

joy and consolation, and let the man of God flee those things

that would lead the mind out of the cross, for then the savour of

the life will be buried: and although some may speak of things

that they received in the life, as experiences, yet the life

being veiled, and the savour that is left behind washed away

by the fresh floods of temptation, the condition that they did

enjoy in the life, boasted of by the airy thing, will be like

the manna that was gathered yesterday, without any good scent or

savour. For, it was only well with the man while he was in the

life of innocency; but being driven from the presence of the Lord

into the earth, what can he boast of? And although you know these

things, and many of you, much more than I can say; yet, for the

love and zeal I bear to the truth and honour of God, and tender

desire of my soul to those that are young, that they may read me

in that from which I write, to strengthen them against the wiles

of the subtil serpent that beguiled Eve, I say, stand in the

watch within, in the fear of the Lord, which is the very entrance

of wisdom, and the state where you are ready to receive the

secrets of the Lord: hunger and thirst patiently, be not weary,

neither doubt. Stand still, and cease from thy own working, and

in due time thou shalt enter into the rest, and thy eyes shall

behold his salvation, whose testimonies are sure and righteous

altogether: let them be as a seal upon thine arm, and as jewels

about thy neck, that others may see what the Lord hath done for

your souls: confess him before men, yea, before his greatest

enemies; fear not what they can do unto you: greater is he that

is in you, than he that is in the world: for he will clothe you

with humility, and in the power of his meekness you shall reign

over all the rage of your enemies in the favour of God; wherein,

as you stand in faith, ye are the salt of the earth; for, many

seeing your good works, may glorify God in the day of their

visitation.

‘Take heed of receiving that which you saw not in the light,

lest you give ear to the enemy. Bring all things to the light,

that they may be proved, whether they be wrought in God; the

love of the world, the lust of the flesh, and the lust of the

eye, are without the light, in the world; therefore possess your

vessels in all sanctification and honour, and let your eye look

at the mark: he that hath called you is holy: and if there be an

eye that offends, pluck it out, and cast it from you: let not

a temptation take hold, for if you do, it will keep from the

favour of God, and that will be a sad state; for, without grace

possessed, there is no assurance of salvation: by grace you are

saved; and the witnessing of it is sufficient for you, to which I

commend you all my dear friends, and in it remain,

Your brother,

WILLIAM LEDDRA.’

Boston Jail, the 13th of the First

Month, 1660-61.

The day before he suffered.

* * * * *

The next day after this letter was written, the execution of W. Leddra

was performed, which was on the 14th of the First month. After the

lecture was ended, the governor, John Endicot, came with a guard of

soldiers to the prison, where W. Leddra’s irons were taken off, with

which he had been chained to a log both night and day during a cold

winter; and now they were knocked off, according to what the jailer

once said, as hath been related before. William then having taken his

leave of Wenlock Christison, and others then in bonds, when called,

went forth to the slaughter, encompassed with a guard to prevent

his speaking to his friends; which Edward Wharton an inhabitant of

Salem, and also banished on pain of death, seeing, and speaking

against, one amongst the company said, ‘O Edward it will be your

turn next!’ To which Captain Oliver added, ‘if you speak a word,

I’ll stop your mouth.’ Then W. Leddra being brought to the foot of

the ladder, was pinioned, and as he was about to ascend the same,

he took leave of his friend, E. Wharton, to whom he said, ‘All that

will be Christs’s disciples, must take up the cross.’ He standing

upon the ladder, somebody said, ‘William, have you any thing to say

to the people?’ Thereupon he spoke thus, ‘For the testimony of Jesus,

and for testifying against deceivers, and the deceived, I am brought

here to suffer.’ This took so much with the people, that it wrought

a tenderness in many. But to quench this, priest Allen said to the

spectators, ‘People, I would not have you think it strange to see a man

so willing to die; for that’s no new thing. And you may read how the

apostle said, that some should be given up to strong delusions, and

even dare to die for it.’ But he did not say where the apostle speaks

so, neither have I found it any where in the holy writ; though I know

that Paul saith, Rom. v. 7. “Peradventure for a good man some would

even dare to die.” But it seems it was sufficient for Allen, if he

could but render Leddra odious: who however continued cheerful: for as

the executioner was putting the halter about his neck, he was heard to

say, ‘I commit my righteous cause unto thee, O God.’ The executioner

then being charged to make haste, W. Leddra, at the turning of the

ladder, cried, ‘Lord Jesus receive my spirit;’ and so he was turned

off, and finished his days. The hangman cut down the dead body, and

lest it should be so barbarously used as those of William Robinson

and Marmaduke Stevenson, (which none holding when cut down, fell to

the ground to the breaking of W. Robinson’s skull,) Edward Wharton,

John Chamberlain, and others, caught the body in their arms and laid

it on the ground, till the hangman had stript it of its clothes; who

having done so, said, that he was a comely man, as indeed he was. The

body being stript, William’s friends took it, laid it in a coffin, and

buried it. For further confirmation of what hath been related, the

following letter of one of the spectators, that was there accidentally,

may be added:

‘_Boston, March 26, 1661._

‘On the 14th of this instant, there was one William Leddra, who

was put to death. The people of the town told me, he might go

away if he would; but when I made further inquiry, I heard the

marshal say, that he was chained in prison, from the time he was

condemned, to the day of his execution. I am not of his opinion:

but yet truly methought the Lord did mightily appear in the man.

I went to one of the magistrates of Cambridge, who had been of

the jury that condemned him, as he told me himself, and I asked

him by what rule he did it? He answered me that he was a rogue,

a very rogue. But what is this to the question, I said, where is

your rule? He said, he had abused authority. Then I goes after

the man, and asked him, whether he did not look on it as a breach

of rule to slight and undervalue authority? And I said that Paul

gave Festus the title of honour, though he was a heathen. (I do

not say that these magistrates are heathens) I said. Then, when

the man was on the ladder, he looked on me, and called me friend,

and said, know that this day I am willing to offer up my life for

the witness of Jesus. Then I desired leave of the officers to

speak, and said, Gentlemen, I am a stranger both to your persons

and country, and yet a friend to both: and I cried aloud, for

the Lord’s sake, take not away the man’s life; but remember

Gamaliel’s council to the Jews. If this be of man it will come

to nought, but if it be of God, ye cannot overthrow it: but be

careful ye be not found fighters against God. And the captain

said, why had you not come to the prison? The reason was, because

I heard the man might go if he would; and therefore I called him

down from the tree, and said, come down, William, you may go away

if you will. Then captain Oliver said, it was no such matter; and

asked, what I had to do with it? And besides, bade me be gone:

and I told them, I was willing; for I cannot endure to see this,

I said. And when I was in the town, some did seem to sympathise

with me in my grief. But I told them, that they had no warrant

from the word of God, nor precedent from our country, nor power

from his majesty to hang the man. I rest,

Your Friend,

THOMAS WILKIE.’

To Mr. George Lad, master of the

America of Dartmouth, now at

Barbadoes.

William Leddra being thus despatched, it was resolved to make an end

also of Wenlock Christison. He therefore was brought from the prison

to the court at Boston, where the governor, John Endicot, and the

deputy-governor, Richard Bellingham, being both present, it was told

him, ‘Unless you renounce your religion, you shall surely die.’ But

instead of shrinking, he said with an undaunted courage, ‘Nay, I shall

not change my religion, nor seek to save my life; neither do I intend

to deny my master; but if I lose my life for Christ’s sake, and the

preaching of the gospel, I shall save my life.’ This noble resolution

gave such a check to his persecutors, that they did not then go on

with the trial, but sent him away to prison again. And it being said

by somebody, that William Leddra was dead, a certain person said to

Wenlock, ‘O thy turn is next.’ To which he gravely replied, ‘The will

of the Lord be done,’ showing thereby his entire resignation.

Being now locked up again in prison, he was kept there till about the

Fourth month: but then the court being set, a spirit of confusion

appeared there, and a division among several of the members; for though

the greatest part were for taking the same course with him as with

those that were already put to death, yet several would not consent

to it. And as natural occurrences sometimes cause reflections among

observing people, so it happened here; for during their deliberations

how to deal with Wenlock Christison, which lasted for the space of

two weeks, the sun in the firmament shone not, a thing at that season

somewhat extraordinary; which gave occasion for some to say that the

sun abhorring this bloody business, hid itself from them. But after

many debates, the sanguinary council at length agreed, and Wenlock was

brought to the bar, where the governor, John Endicot, asked him, what

he had to say for himself, why he should not die? He answered, ‘I have

done nothing worthy of death; if I have I refuse not to die.’ To this

another said, ‘Thou art come in among us in rebellion, which is as the

sin of witchcraft, and ought to be punished.’ Hence it appears how

perversely these blood-thirsty persecutors applied the Holy Scriptures

to their cruel ends, and so made a wrong use of the prophet Samuel’s

words to Saul; to which false conclusion Wenlock answered, ‘I came not

in among you in rebellion, but in obedience to the God of heaven, not

in contempt to any of you, but in love to your souls and bodies; and

that you shall know one day, when you and all men must give an account

of the deeds done in the body. Take heed, (thus he went on,) for you

cannot escape the righteous judgments of God.’ Then said major-general

Adderton, ‘You pronounce woes and judgments, and those that are gone

before you pronounced woes and judgments; but the judgments of the

Lord God are not come upon us as yet.’ So insolent and hard-hearted

may man become, as not to stick even to defy the Most High. But

before we draw the curtains of this stage, we shall see the tragical

end of this Adderton, who now received this answer from Wenlock: ‘Be

not proud, neither let your spirits be lifted up: God doth but wait

till the measure of your iniquity be filled up, and that you have run

your ungodly race; then will the wrath of God come upon you to the

uttermost. And as for thy part, it hangs over thy head, and is near

to be poured down upon thee, and shall come as a thief in the night

suddenly, when thou thinkest not of it.’

Then Wenlock asked, ‘By what law will you put me to death?’ The answer

was, ‘We have a law, and by our law you are to die.’ ‘So said the Jews

of Christ, (replied Wenlock,) We have a law, and by our law he ought

to die. Who empowered you to make that law?’ To which one of the board

answered, ‘we have a patent, and are the patentees; judge whether we

have not power to make laws.’ Hereupon Wenlock asked again, ‘How!

have you power to make laws repugnant to the laws of England?’ ‘No,’

said the governor. ‘Then, (replied Wenlock,) you are gone beyond your

bounds, and have forfeited your patent; and that is more than you can

answer. Are you, (asked he,) subjects to the king, yea, or nay?’ ‘What

good will that do you,’ replied the secretary? ‘If you are, (answered

Wenlock,) say so; for in your petition to the king, you desire that

he would protect you, and that you may be worthy to kneel amongst his

loyal subjects.’ To which one said, ‘Yea, we are so.’ ‘Well, (said

Wenlock,) so am I, and for any thing I know, am as good as you, if not

better; for if the king did but know your hearts as God knows them, he

would see that you are as rotten towards him, as they are towards God.

Therefore seeing that you and I are subjects to the king, I demand to

be tried by the laws of my own nation.’ It was answered, ‘You shall be

tried by a bench and a jury:’ for it seems they began to be afraid to

go on in the former course of trial without a jury, this being contrary

to the laws of England. But Wenlock said, ‘That is not the law, but the

manner of it; for I never heard nor read of any law that was in England

to hang Quakers.’ To this the governor replied, that there was a law to

hang Jesuits. To which Wenlock returned. ‘If you put me to death, it is

not because I go under the name of a Jesuit, but of a Quaker: therefore

I appeal to the laws of my own nation.’ But instead of taking notice of

this, one said, that he was in their hands, and had broken their law,

and they would try him. Wenlock still appealed to the law of his own

nation: yet the jury being called over, went out, but quickly returned,

and brought him in guilty. Whereupon the secretary said, ‘Wenlock

Christison, hold up your hand.’ ‘I will not,’ said Wenlock, ‘I am here

and can hear thee.’ Then the secretary cried, ‘Guilty or not guilty?’

‘I deny all guilt,’ replied Wenlock, ‘for my conscience is clear in

the sight of God.’ But the governor said, ‘The jury hath condemned

thee.’ Wenlock answered, ‘The Lord doth justify me; who art thou that

condemnest?’

They then voted as to the sentence of death, but were in a manner

confounded, for several could not vote him guilty of death. The

governor seeing this division, said, ‘I could find in my heart to go

home:’ being in such a rage, that he flung something furiously on

the table; which made Wenlock cry, ‘It were better for thee to be at

home than here, for thou art about a bloody piece of work.’ Then the

governor put the court to vote again; but this was done confusedly,

which so incensed the governor, that he stood up and said, ‘You that

will not consent, record it: I thank God I am not afraid to give

judgment.’ Thus we see that to be drunk with blood, doth not quench the

thirst after blood; for Endicot the governor, seeing others backward

to vote, precipitately pronounced judgment himself, and said, ‘Wenlock

Christison, hearken to your sentence: You must return to the place from

whence you came, and from thence to the place of execution, and there

you must be hanged until you are dead, dead, dead.’ To which Wenlock

said, ‘The will of the Lord be done, in whose will I came amongst

you, and in whose counsel I stand, feeling his eternal power, that

will uphold me unto the last gasp.’ Moreover he cried thus: ‘Known be

it unto you all, that if ye have power to take my life from me, my

soul shall enter into everlasting rest and peace with God, where you

yourselves shall never come. And if ye have power to take my life from

me, the which I do question, I do believe you shall never more take

Quakers’ lives from them: note my words: do not think to weary out the

living God, by taking away the lives of his servants. What do you gain

by it? for the last man that you have put to death, here are five come

in his room. And if ye have power to take my life from me, God can

raise up the same principle of life in ten of his servants, and send

them among you in my room, that you may have torment upon torment,

which is your portion; for there is no peace to the wicked, saith my

God.’ The holy confidence with which he uttered these words show, and

the sequel made it appear plainly, that something supernatural was

contained in them: and it is remarkable, that among the imprisoned

Quakers, there were then several that had been banished on pain of

death; and among these also Elizabeth Hooton; and Edward Wharton staid

in his habitation contrary to his sentence of banishment.

Wenlock having received sentence of death, was brought to prison again,

where having been detained five days, the marshal and a constable

came to him with an order from the court for his enlargement with

twenty-seven more of his friends, then in prison for their testimony to

the Truth, saying they were ordered by the court to make him acquainted

with their new law. ‘What means this?’ said Wenlock, ‘Have ye a new

law?’ ‘Yes,’ said they. ‘Then ye have deceived most people,’ said

Wenlock. ‘Why?’ said they. ‘Because,’ said he, ‘they did think the

gallows had been your last weapon. Your magistrates said that your law

was a good and wholesome law made for your peace, and the safeguard of

your country. What, are your hands now become weak? The power of God is

over you all.’

Thus the prison doors were opened, and Wenlock, with twenty-seven more

of his friends, as aforesaid, set at liberty, save that two of them,

viz. Peter Pearson and Judith Brown, being stripped to the waist, and

fastened to a cart’s tail, were whipped through the town of Boston with

twenty stripes apiece.

Now though not long after an order came from the king, as will be said

anon, whereby these persecutors were charged to desist from putting

the Quakers to death, yet is seems they had got some scent of the

king’s displeasure, who had a mind to stop their bloody career: for

having got a book written by George Bishop, containing a relation of

the cruel persecution in New England, and reading a passage concerning

major-general Denison, who, to put off those that complained of their

wicked proceeding, said, ‘This year ye will go to complain to the

parliament, and the next year they will send to see how it is; and the

third year the government is changed.’ He took much notice of this, and

calling to the lords to hear it, said, ‘Lo, these are my good subjects

of New England: but I will put a stop to them.’

It was not long before an opportunity was offered; for the news of

William Leddra’s death being come into England, with an information of

the danger that others were in of going the same way, their friends

took it so to heart, especially Edward Burrough, that having got

audience of the king, he said to him there was a vein of innocent blood

opened in his dominions, which if it were not stopped would overrun

all. To which the king replied, ‘But I will stop that vein.’ Then

Burrough desired him to do it speedily; ‘for we know not,’ said he,

‘how many may soon be put to death.’ The king answered, ‘As soon as you

will. Call, said he to some present, the secretary, and I will do it

presently.’ The secretary being come, a mandamus was forthwith granted.

A day or two after, going again to the king, to desire despatch of

the matter, the king said he had no occasion at present to send a

ship thither; but if they would send one, they might do it as soon as

they could. E. Burrough then asked the king if it would please him to

grant his deputation to one called a Quaker, to carry the mandamus to

New England. The king answered, ‘Yes, to whom you will.’ Whereupon E.

Burrough named one Samuel Shattock, who being an inhabitant of New

England, was banished on pain of death, if ever he returned thither.

And the king accordingly granted the deputation to him, with full power

to carry the mandamus, which was as followeth:

‘CHARLES R.

‘Trusty and well-beloved, we greet you well.--Having been

informed that several of our subjects amongst you, called

Quakers, have been, and are imprisoned by you, whereof some

have been executed, and others, (as hath been represented unto

us,) are in danger to undergo the like: we have thought fit to

signify our pleasure in that behalf for the future; and do hereby

require, that if there be any of those people called Quakers

amongst you, now already condemned to suffer death, or other

corporal punishment, or that are imprisoned, and obnoxious to

the like condemnation, you are to forbear to proceed any further

therein; but that you forthwith send the said persons, (whether

condemned or imprisoned,) over into this our kingdom of England,

together with the respective crimes or offences laid to their

charge; to the end that such course may be taken with them here,

as shall be agreeable to our laws, and their demerits. And for

so doing, these our letters shall be your sufficient warrant and

discharge.

‘Given at our court at Whitehall, the 9th day of September, 1661,

in the 13th year of our reign.

By his majesty’s command,

WILLIAM MORRIS.’

The superscription was:

To our trusty and well-beloved John Endicot, Esq. and to all

and every other the governor, or governors of our plantations

of New-England, and of all the colonies thereunto belonging;

that now are, or hereafter shall be; and to all and every the

ministers and officers of our said plantations and colonies

whatsoever, within the continent of New England.

Thus favourable the king manifested himself; and in England persecution

for religion was a little at a stand; but it was but a kind of respite.

G. Fox the younger, a man of excellent qualifications, and great

boldness, foresaw an imminent storm; and lest any carelessness might

enter among his friends, in the Fourth month he wrote the following

exhortation to them:

‘What my heavenly Father hath determined for these men to do,

no man can stop it: O that patience might be abode in by all

that know his name, and his will submitted unto by them that he

hath called. O be still, strive not, but drink the cup which

our Father suffereth to be given; I know it will be bitter to

some; but whosoever striveth against it shall come to loss and

shame: for the Lord will yet further try his people, till it be

fully and clearly manifest who are the approved in his sight.

This he will certainly do; therefore let not the present calm

beget a wrong security in any, for lo the day hastens, and cometh

swiftly, that another storm must arise; and in vain will it be to

fly to the tall cedars and strong oaks for shelter; for nothing

but the name of the Lord can preserve in that day.

GEORGE FOX, _the younger_.’

That this G. Fox did not reckon amiss, when in this exhortation he said

the day hastens that another storm must arise, we shall see ere long:

but first we must take a view of things in America.

This mandamus to the rulers of New England being obtained, as hath been

said, quick despatch was thought necessary to send it thither. And

Samuel Shattock being empowered by the king to carry it, an agreement

was made with one Ralph Goldsmith, who was master of a good ship, and

also one of those called Quakers, for three hundred pounds, (goods or

no goods,) to sail in ten days. He then immediately made all things

ready to set sail, and with a prosperous gale arrived in about six

weeks time before the town of Boston in New England, upon a First-day

of the week. The townsmen seeing a ship come into the bay with English

colours, soon came on board, and asked for the captain. Ralph Goldsmith

told them he was the commander. Then they asked him whether he had any

letters; and he said ‘Yes.’ Whereupon they asked if he would deliver

them; but he said, ‘No, not to-day.’ So they went ashore, and reported

there was a ship full of Quakers, and that Samuel Shattock was among

them, who they knew was by their law liable to be put to death, for

coming in again after banishment: but they knew not his errand nor

authority.

All being thus kept close, and none of the ship’s company suffered to

go on shore that day, next morning Samuel Shattock, the king’s deputy,

and Ralph Goldsmith, the commander of the vessel, went on shore; and

sending the men that landed them back to the ship, they two went

through the town to the governor John Endicot’s door, and knocked. He

sending a man to know their business, they sent him word their business

was from the king of England, and that they would deliver their message

to none but the governor himself. Thereupon they were admitted to go

in, and the governor came to them, and commanded Shattock’s hat to

be taken off, and having received the deputation and the mandamus,

he laid off his hat; and ordering Shattock’s hat to be given him

again, he looked upon the papers, and then going out, went to the

deputy-governor, and bid the king’s deputy and the master of the ship

to follow him. Being come to the deputy-governor, and having consulted

with him about the matter, he returned to the two aforesaid persons and

said, ‘We shall obey his majesty’s command.’ After this, the master of

the ship gave liberty to the passengers to come ashore, which they did,

and met together with their friends of the town, to offer up praises to

God for this wonderful deliverance.

Now for as much as several of their friends were yet in prison at

Boston, the following order was given forth by the council not long

after.

‘_To William Salter, keeper of the prison at Boston._

‘You are required by authority, and order of the general court,

forthwith to release and discharge the Quakers, who at present

are in custody. See that you do not neglect this.

By order of the court,

EDWARD RAWSON, _Secretary_.’

Boston, 9th Dec. 1661.

They then consulted what to do that they might not incur the king’s

displeasure; and it was agreed to send a deputation to him. First,

colonel Temple was sent to acquaint the king with their having set the

Quakers at liberty; and he was followed not long after by the chief

priest John Norton, and Simon Broadstreet, one of the magistrates.

The year was now spent: but before I conclude it I must take notice, as

a pregnant instance of the marvellous vicissitude of mundane affairs,

that in the forepart of this year, the body of O. Cromwell, which had

been buried with great state in Westminster Abbey, was digged up, as

were also the bodies of Bradshaw and Ireton, which three corpses were

carried in carts to Tyburn, and there hanged on the gallows. Then the

executioner chopped off the heads, stamped with his foot on the bodies,

which were tumbled into a pit, dug near the gallows; and the heads

were exposed on the top of Westminster Hall, where I remember to have

seen them. And that now befel Cromwell which he said about seven years

before in his speech to the parliament, as hath been mentioned in its

due place, viz. That he would rather be rolled into the grave, and

buried with infamy, than give his consent to the throwing away one of

the fundamentals of that government, to wit, liberty of conscience. And

yet he suffered persecution to go on, as hath been related at large:

but now, according to his saying, he was rolled with infamy into the

grave; which may serve indeed for a remarkable instance of the justice

and equal judgments of God.

About this time a book came out at London, bearing the title of

Semper Idem, [i. e. Always the same,] or a Parallel of fanatics. The

author concealed his name; but he made it appear sufficiently that

he was a Papist, and it may be a jesuit: for he inveighed not only

against the Quakers and Baptists, but also against the Presbyterians,

and even Episcopalians, and consequently against all Protestants.

Nay, the martyrs that were burnt in the bloody reign of queen Mary,

eldest daughter to king Henry the Eighth, were no less vilified than

the Quakers, in the said book, by the scornful name of rebels, and

fanatics. This book was sold publicly, and it seemed that none durst

oppose it, for fear of displeasing the court. But E. Burrough, who was

of an undaunted courage, and so continued till his death, employed his

pen to refute it, and gave forth his answer in print, plainly showing

what the anonymous author aimed at, viz. That he would have the cruel

usage of fire and faggots revived, and wished to see the burning of

reputed heretics brought again into vogue. Which was the more to be

taken notice of, because such a publication of vilifying the martyrs

with calumnies, had not been seen at London for above an hundred years;

and all the groundless positions of the said author were very notably

answered by the said E. Burrough.

And since persecution in the latter end of this year began to appear

with open face again, he published a book, which he called Antichrist’s

government justly detected. This he dedicated to all the rulers, &c.

in the (so called) Christian world; and therein, with sound arguments,

manifested the unlawfulness and injustice of persecution, and from

whence it had its rise; and how dangerous it was to impose religion.

Next he treated at large concerning heresy, and what punishment

pertained to such as are truly convicted of it. But lest any might

think that he was for opposing the duty of the civil magistrate against

malefactors, he said concerning the punishment of heresy, (which he

stated to be only an ecclesiastical censure,) that he only intended

this, where the error of a man and his heresy in his mind and judgment,

did only extend to the hurt of his own soul, and against God, and not

to the harm of his neighbour’s person or estate. But, thus continued

he, if his error and heresy do extend further than only against God and

his own soul, even to outward wrongs, or evils, or violence, or visible

mischiefs committed, as murders, or other the like crimes against

men, to the injuring of others, then I forbid not outward external

punishment, to be corporally inflicted upon the person and estate of

such a man; but it ought to be done, and that by the laws of men,

provided for the same end; even such a man’s error, in such his wrong

dealing, may justly and lawfully be punished with death, banishment or

penalties, according to the desert of the crime, &c. The author also

wrote circumstantially concerning the government of antichrist, and

showed the deceit that was in it, and who were the subjects of his

kingdom.

It was somewhat before this time that George Fox the younger, being a

prisoner, and seeing an intent of promoting popery, wrote the following

letter to the king:

‘The King of kings hath beheld, yea, the King of kings hath seen

even all thy actings in the dark, and he hath traced thy walkings

in obscure places; and thou hast not hid thy counsels from the

almighty, but he hath seen all the intents of thy heart, and thy

good words have not at all deceived him, nor those that purely

stood in his counsels; for he hath seen the snares, and beheld

the pits which privily have been preparing for the innocent,

(even in the time when smooth words have been given,) and he

hath showed them unto others. Oh that thou wouldst have taken

counsel of the Lord, and obeyed the same! thou shouldest have

been prospered; but thou hast taken counsel of them which have

caused thee to err: thou hast also sought to exalt and establish

thyself, and thy own honour, and not the truth and honour of God

only; which if thou hadst truly done, (in the self-denial,) God

would have honoured thee: thou hast not taken the Lord for thy

strength and stay, but thou hast leaned to that which cannot

help thee, even to that which will prove a broken reed unto

thee, if thou comest to prove its strength. Thou hast greatly

dishonoured and grieved the Lord, by thy setting up ministers

which he loathes, and by thy providing a forced maintenance for

them by an unjust law, that so they may yet make a prey upon his

people, who for conscience-sake cannot put into their mouths,

being spiritually gathered therefrom by the word of the Lord.

Thou hast also grieved the Spirit of the Lord, in that thou

hast not put a difference betwixt that which the Spirit of the

Lord moved, and that which is moved by the evil lusts of men;

and hereby thou hast justified that which God hath condemned,

and condemned that which he hath justified, and will justify in

the sight of his enemies. O, friend, it is not the person of

any man which the Lord regards, but it is righteousness which

he hath respect to, and so far as man, (whatever he may be,)

by the drawing of the Truth comes into righteousness, and acts

therein, so far hath the Lord unity with him, and no further:

these things should have been considered by thee. Thou hast also

grieved the Holy Ghost by the suffering all these wicked and

profane shows and sports, which have abounded since thy coming

in, by which the Lord’s good creatures have been abused, wasted,

and devoured. Thou hast highly displeased the Lord God, by thy

suffering persecution to be acted in thy name, even whilst

thou in words hast promised liberty; yea, many are this day in

holes and prisons, for the testimony of a good conscience, and

obeying the doctrine of Christ. Oh! the Lord is grieved with

the pride and wickedness that is lived in, both in thy family

and dominions, and thou thyself hast not been such a pattern

and example amongst them as thou oughtest to have been. O,

friend! when I behold the wickedness, cruelty, and oppression,

that abounds in this nation in open view, and also the secret

abominations which are committed, and are plotting and lurking

in the chambers; verily my life is even bowed down because of

the fierce wrath of the Almighty, which I see is kindled; and

because of the great destruction which I see attends the wicked,

whose ends and counsels the Lord will frustrate, and upon whom he

will pour out everlasting contempt. Yea, and it hath been oft in

me, before thou camest last into the land, and also since, even

when it hath been shown me, what idolatry is intended in secret

to be brought in, that certainly it had been better for thee

that thou hadst never come, for I have seen it tending to thy

destruction. And when I have seen the abomination and cruelties

which are committed and intended, there hath a pity arose in me

towards thee for thy soul’s sake; and it hath been my desire, if

it might stand with the will of God, that he would put it into

thy heart to go out of the land again, that so thy life might

be preserved, and that thou mightest have time to repent; for

although many men flatter and applaud thee for self ends, yet I

see the Lord is displeased with thy ways. Let no man deceive thee

by feigned words; God will not be mocked: such as thou sowest,

such must thou reap. Thou canst not hide thyself from the Lord,

nor deliver thyself from the stroke of his hand: O consider how

soon hath the Lord taken away thy brother, who, according to

outward appearance, might have lived longer than thee! O, think

not that men can preserve thee, though all the nations about

promise to help thee! Yet when the Lord appears against thee,

thou must fall; verily there is a great desolation near, thy

hand cannot stay it; God hath decreed that he may exalt his own

kingdom: the nations are like a boiling pot, a little flame will

set them on fire; and the windy doctrine of the priests shall

help to kindle it; oh the day will be terrible, who may abide

it? The stubble will be consumed, and the chaff shall be burned;

the ungodly shall be abased, for they cannot stand in judgment;

but the seed shall be exalted. O what shall I say that might be

for thy safety? Verily I can say little; the Lord’s decree must

stand, the Lord is highly displeased, and his wrath is near to be

revealed: and he is swift in his goings, and he will shorten the

days of his enemies for his elect’s sake. O that thy soul might

be saved in the day of the Lord! my spirit is in suffering for

thee, my soul is afflicted within me because of the approachings

of the day of thy calamity, from which no man can deliver thee.

This is the Truth that must stand, and in love to thy soul it is

declared, by him who must deal uprightly with all men: though for

it I suffer outwardly, yet I have a witness in thy conscience,

unto which I am made manifest; and peace with the Lord is my

portion, which is better than an earthly crown.

GEORGE FOX, _the younger_.’

This was given him the 9th day of the

Eighth month, 1660.

This letter, (a clear evidence of the author’s innocent courage,) was

delivered to the king, who read it, and seemed to be reached thereby,

and touched at heart: but his brother, the duke of York, was displeased

with it, and being violently set against the author, advised the king

to use severity towards him; but the king being good-natured, said, ‘It

were better for us to mend our lives.’

Whilst the said G. Fox was prisoner in Lambeth-house, he wrote

also a small treatise, called, ‘England’s sad Estate and Condition

lamented.’ Herein he reproved the grievous abominations committed

among the inhabitants, oppression by persecution, and the hypocrisy

of the priests. He also predicted the pestilence, as may be mentioned

hereafter in due place; and signified not obscurely, that endeavours

would be used publicly to introduce superstition and idolatry; but that

those who intended to do so, should be frustrated by the Lord in their

attempts. And that others, whose worship also did displease the Lord,

should grind and waste one another: but that beyond their expectation,

he would pluck out from them, and preserve a holy seed. And that

after he should have executed his vengeance upon the rebellious and

treacherous dealers, he would then bring forth the remnant of his holy

seed, which should be preserved from their fury; and then they should

spread over all, and stand in dominion. ‘But,’ thus continued he,

‘although these things, touching the holy remnant, shall certainly be

fulfilled in their season, yet before they will be fully accomplished,

great will be the trials of many of the righteous, and there will be

great judgments executed in thee, O land, by him, who ofttimes maketh

a fruitful land barren, because of the wickedness of them that dwell

therein.’ This, and much more he wrote, and published it in print.

Several of his predictions we have seen fulfilled, as in the progress

of this history may appear: and this last we must refer to time. After

the writing of this treatise, he also gave forth the following prayer.

‘Surely it was thou, O Lord, that gave bounds unto the sea, that

the floods thereof could not overwhelm thy chosen: thou canst

let forth the winds, and suffer a storm; and thou canst make a

calm when thou pleasest. Have thou the glory of all, thou King

of saints, thou Saviour of Israel. Thou canst do whatever thou

pleasest, therefore will we trust in thy name, neither will we

fear what men can do unto us, because thou wilt not forsake us;

but thou wilt plead our cause in the sight of our adversaries,

and they shall know that thou art our God, who art able to save

to the uttermost. O Lord, our righteousness, we will praise thy

name; for thy mercies endure for ever. Our eyes, O God, are unto

thee, for we have no other helper. Our faith, O Lord, standeth

in thee, who canst not forget thy people. Thou hast revealed and

brought up Jacob, who wrestleth with thee, and prevaileth as a

prince, therefore must the blessing come. O Lord, the birth, the

birth, crieth unto thee, thy own elect, which long hath been

oppressed. Thou canst not deny thyself, therefore have we faith,

and hope, which maketh not ashamed. O Lord, how unsearchable are

thy ways! Thou hast even amazed thy people with the depth of thy

wisdom; thou alone wilt have the glory of their deliverance; and

therefore hast thou suffered these things to come to pass. O

Lord, thou art righteous in all thy judgments: only preserve thy

people which thou hast gathered, and wilt gather unto thyself, in

the day of trial; that so they may sing of thy power, and magnify

thy name in the land of the living.’

This G. Fox wrote also in prison several other papers and epistles,

for exhortation and consolation of his friends: but his work was soon

done, so that not long after he departed this life, which was in this,

or the next year. He was, as may be seen from his writings, a man of

extraordinary resignation and courage; and that he gave up his life, if

required, may appear from a small book that he wrote, being prisoner in

Lambeth-house, which he called, ‘The Dread of God’s Power uttering its

Voice through Man, unto the Heads of the Nation.’ Herein he exhorted

the rulers very earnestly to do justice; and said amongst the rest,

‘Friends, I must deal plainly with you in the sight of God, who hath

made me a prophet to the nation. I may not flatter any of you. My life

is in the hand of my Maker, and not one hair of my head can fall to the

ground without his providence. He hath redeemed my soul from hell,

and my mind from the earth; and he hath given me his good Spirit to

lead me. I am henceforth no more my own, but I am the Lord’s, who hath

formed me to his praise, and hath brought me forth, that I may sound

forth his powerful Truth amongst the people. Therefore must I not fear

man, neither must I be afraid of the sons of men.’

* * * * *

Thus undaunted he showed himself: but it was not long before he made

his exit, of which I cannot but say something. In his sickness I find,

that though he was weak in body, yet he was strong in spirit, so that

he would sing for joy of heart. He exhorted his friends to keep in

unity, foreseeing, it may be, that something would rise which might

give occasion for division: and then with much fervency of spirit, he

prayed God, and exhorted his friends, to keep their garments unspotted

of the world, because great was the day of trial that was at hand.

Afterwards recommending them to the Lord, he took his leave of them,

and slept in perfect peace with the Lord, being of sound memory to

the last. Now the dust was returned to the earth, and the spirit unto

God who gave it. Thus he was freed of all danger of losing the crown

of immortal life, which man by temptation, and the casualties of this

life, is liable unto, if he continueth not diligently watchful. But

this valiant was now beyond the reach of all temptations, and so I

leave him, that I may pass on to other matters.

In this year E. Burrough wrote a paper to the king and his council,

which he called, ‘A just and Righteous Plea,’ in which he proposed

at large, the reasons why the people called Quakers, refused to take

the oath of allegiance, viz. That it was not because they would not

be faithful to the king, but only for conscience-sake, since Christ

so expressly had commanded his followers, “Swear not at all,” which

command they durst not transgress. Yet to assure the government of

their faithfulness, he said thus:

‘We are now, and shall be faithful, innocent, and peaceable,

in our several stations and conditions, under this present

government of king Charles the Second, whom we acknowledge

supreme magistrate and governor over this kingdom; and for

conscience-sake we are obedient and submissive to him, as such,

in all his commands, either by doing and performing of what he

justly requireth, or by patient suffering under whatsoever is

inflicted upon us, in the matters for which we cannot be obedient

for conscience-sake, when any thing is required of us different

from the just law of God. And to this subjection to the king

and his government, we are bound by the law of righteousness;

and such hath ever been our principle and practice, and is unto

this day, even to be quiet, and peaceable, and patient, under

every authority that is set over us; and not in unrighteousness,

to plot, or contrive, or rebel, against any government, or

governors, nor to seek our own deliverance from injustice and

oppression in such a way. And we are persuaded to seek the

preservation of the king’s person and authority, by all just

and lawful means, and not to rebel against him with carnal

weapons; and so far as his government is in justice, mercy,

and righteousness, we declare true and faithful subjection and

obedience thereunto; and wherein it is otherwise, we shall be

subject by patient suffering what is unequally imposed upon

us, and yet not rebel in any turbulent way of conspiracies

and insurrections: for our principles are not for war, but

for peace with all men so much as in us lies; neither may we

render evil for evil to any, but are to be subject to the king

and his government, actively or passively, upon the conditions

aforementioned.

‘And we renounce all foreign authority, power, and jurisdiction

of the pope, or any else, from having any supremacy whatsoever

over the king, or any the good subjects of England. And this we

declare, acknowledge, and testify, in the fear and presence of

God, (to whom we and all mankind must give an account,) and that

without secret equivocation, or any deceitful mental reservation.’

Thus fully E. Burrough declared himself, and gave also a circumstantial

relation of the practice of his friends meeting together, or their way

of public worship, thereby to assure the government of their peaceable

behaviour and fidelity. But all this proved in vain; for it being well

known that the Quakers denied swearing, they continually were vexed and

persecuted, under a pretence of not giving due satisfaction of their

being faithful to the government, and so transgressing the laws.

Now the deputies of New England came to London, and endeavoured to

clear themselves as much as possible, but especially priest Norton, who

bowed no less reverently before the archbishop, than before the king;

and thus fawning upon the Episcopalians, they found means to keep in

a condition to vex the Quakers, so called, though they were forbidden

to put them to death: and that many of the bishops were great enemies

to the said Quakers, appeared plainly from the cruel persecution which

after a short calm arose in England.

But to return to the New England deputies, they would fain have

altogether excused themselves: and priest Norton thought it sufficient

to say, that he did not assist in the bloody trial, nor had advised

to it: but John Copeland, whose ear was cut off at Boston, charged

the contrary upon him: and G. Fox, the elder, got occasion to speak

with them in the presence of some of his friends; and asked Simon

Broadstreet, one of the New England magistrates, whether he had not a

hand in putting to death, those they nick-named Quakers? He not being

able to deny this, confessed he had. Then G. Fox asked him and his

associates that were present, whether they would acknowledge themselves

to be subjects to the laws of England; and if they did, by what laws

they put his friends to death? They answered, they were subjects to

the laws of England; and they had put his friends to death by the

same law, as the Jesuits were put to death in England. Hereupon G.

Fox asked, whether they did believe that those his friends, whom they

had put to death, were Jesuits, or jesuitically affected? They said,

‘Nay.’ Then replied G. Fox, ‘Ye have murdered them; for since ye put

them to death by the law that Jesuits are put to death here in England,

it plainly appears, you have put them to death arbitrarily, without

any law.’ Thus Broadstreet finding himself and his company ensnared by

their own words, asked, ‘Are you come to catch us?’ But he told them,

they had catched themselves, and they might justly be questioned for

their lives; and if the father of William Robinson, (one of those that

were put to death,) were in town, it was probable he would question

them, and bring their lives into jeopardy: for he not being of the

Quakers’ persuasion, would perhaps not have so much regard to the

point of forbearance, as they had. Broadstreet seeing himself thus in

danger, began to flinch and to sculk; for some of the old royalists

were earnest with the Quakers to prosecute the New England persecutors.

But G. Fox and his friends said, they left them to the Lord, to

whom vengeance belonged, and he would repay it. Broadstreet however,

not thinking it safe to stay in England, left the city, and with his

companions went back again to New England.

Not long before this time, G. Fox, with the help of John Stubbs and

Benjamin Furly, published a book called, ‘A Battledoor.’ In this

book were set forth examples of about thirty languages, to show that

every language had its particular denomination for the singular and

the plural number, in speaking to persons; and in every place where

the description began, the shape of a battledoor was delineated. This

work was promoted to public view by G. Fox, to show the learned, (if

possible to convince them,) that the custom of those called Quakers, to

say Thou to a single person, though it were to the king, and not You,

was not irregular nor absurd, but had been used anciently; and that

therefore they could not justly be charged with unmannerliness, because

they followed not the common custom, which was crept in by the pride

of men. Now though Ger. Croese doth disapprove in G. Fox, that he put

his name to this book as well as J. Stubbs and B. Furly, yet I do not

think it so improper as the said author doth; for G. Fox was a great

promoter of that work; and though he was not skilled in languages, and

some were for calling him an idiot, or a fool, yet I know him to have

been a man of good understanding, and of deep judgment. In his journal

he freely owns, that John Stubbs and Benjamin Furly took great pains in

the compiling of the said book, which he put them upon, and added also

some things to it; so that in some respect he might be esteemed author

too. At the end of the book he added:

‘The pope set up [You] to [One] in his pride, and it is pride

which cannot bear Thou and Thee to one, but would have You, from

the author of and their father in their pride, which must not

have the word Thou, which was before their father the pope was,

which was God’s language, and will stand when the pope is ended.

The History of the Rise, Increase, and Progress of the Christian People Called Quakers Intermixed with Several Remarkable Occurrencs. · 第 60 / 147 题