THE SEVENTH BOOK. 1662-1663.

1662.

Having now left America, and being returned to England, let us go and

see the state of persecution at London, where desperate fury now raged;

though it was not in that chief city alone the Quakers, so called,

were most grievously persecuted: for a little before this time there

was published in print a short relation of the persecution throughout

all England, signed by twelve persons, showing that more than four

thousand and two hundred of those called Quakers, both men and women,

were in prison in England; and denoting the number of them that were

imprisoned in each county, either for frequenting meetings, or for

denying to swear, &c. Many of these had been grievously beaten, or

their clothes torn or taken away from them; and some were put into such

stinking dungeons, that some great men said, they would not have put

their hunting dogs there. Some persons were crowded full both of men

and women, so that there was not sufficient room for all to sit down at

once; and in Cheshire sixty-eight persons were in this manner locked

up in a small room; an evident sign that they were a harmless people,

that would not make any resistance, or use force. By such ill-treatment

many grew sick, and not a few died in such jails; for no age or sex

was regarded, but even ancient people of sixty, seventy, and more

years of age, were not spared: and the most of these being tradesmen,

shopkeepers, and husbandmen, were thus reduced to poverty; for their

goods were also seized, for not going to church, (so called,) or for

not paying tithes. Many times they were fain to lie in prison on cold

nasty ground, without being suffered to have any straw; and often they

have been kept several days without victuals: no wonder therefore that

many died by such hard imprisonments as these.

At London, and in the suburbs, were about this time no less than five

hundred of those called Quakers, imprisoned, and some in such narrow

holes, that every person scarcely had convenience to lie down; and the

felons were suffered to rob them of their clothes and money. Many that

were not imprisoned, nevertheless suffered hardships in their religious

meetings, especially that in London, known by the name of Bull and

Mouth. Here the trained bands came frequently, armed generally with

muskets, pikes, and halberds, and conducted by a military officer,

by order of the city magistracy; and rushing in, in a very furious

manner, fell to beating them, whereby many were grievously wounded,

some fell down in a swoon, and some were beaten so violently, that

they lived not long after it. Among these was one John Trowel, who was

so bruised and crushed, that a few days after he died. His friends

therefore thought it expedient to carry the corpse into the aforesaid

meeting-place, that it might lie there exposed for some hours, to be

seen of every one. This being done, raised commiseration and pity

among many of the inhabitants; for the corpse, beaten like a jelly,

looked black, and was swoln in a direful manner. This gave occasions

to send for the coroner, and he being come, empannelled a jury of the

neighbours, and gave them in charge, according to his office, to make

true inquiry upon their oaths, and to present what they found to be the

cause of his death. They viewing the corpse, had a surgeon or two with

them, to know their judgment concerning it; and then going together in

private, at length they withdrew without giving in their verdict, only

desiring the friends to bury the corpse, which was done accordingly

that evening. And though the coroner and jury met divers times together

upon that occasion, and had many consultations, yet they never would

give in a verdict; but it appeared sufficiently, that the man was

killed by violent beating. The reasons some gave for the suspense of

a verdict were, that though it was testified that the same person,

now dead, was seen beaten and knocked down; yet it being done in such

a confused crowd, no particular man could be fixed upon, so that any

could say, that man did the deed. And if a verdict was given that the

deceased person was killed, and yet no particular person charged with

it, then the city was liable to a great fine at the pleasure of the

king, for conniving at such a murder in the city in the day-time, not

committed in a corner, but in a public place, and not apprehending the

murderer, but suffering him to escape. In the meanwhile the friends of

the deceased were not wanting to give public notice of the fact, and

sent also a letter to the lord mayor, which afterwards they gave out in

print, together with a relation of this bloody business. In this letter

it was said, ‘It may be supposed thou hast heard of this thing, for it

was done not in the night, but at the midtime of the day; not suddenly,

at unawares, or by mishap, but intendedly, and a long space of time a

doing; and not in a corner, but in the streets of the city of London;

all which circumstances do highly aggravate this murder, to the very

shame and infamy of this famous city, and its government.’

A certain person who spread some of these printed relations, was

imprisoned for his pains; nevertheless another brought one of them to

the king, and told him how the thing had been done; at which the king

said, ‘I assure you it was not by my advice that any of your friends

should be slain: ye must tell the magistrates of the city of it, and

prosecute the law against them.’ This saying of the king was not long

after also published in print: but violence prevailed still; for the

person that was apprehended for spreading the said books, was sent to

prison, by the special order of Alderman Brown, of whom, since mention

may be made several times in this work, it gives me occasion to say

something of what kind of man he was.

In the time of Cromwell he had been very fierce against the royalists,

especially at Abingdon, not far from Oxford; for this error he

endeavoured now to make compensation by violently persecuting the

harmless Quakers; otherwise he was a comely man, and could commit

cruelty with a smiling countenance. But more of his actions may be

represented hereafter.

The Quakers, so called, seeing that they could not obtain justice, let

the matter of the murdered persons alone; for suffering was now their

portion, and therefore they left their cause to God. Oftentimes they

were kept out of their meeting-houses by the soldiers; but then they

did not use to go away, but stood before the place, and so their number

soon increased; and then one or other of their ministers generally

stepped upon a bench, or some high place, and so preached boldly. Thus

he got sometimes more hearers than otherwise he might have had. But

such an one sometimes was soon pulled down, which then gave occasion

for another to stand up and preach, and thus often four or five one

after another, were taken away, as innocent sheep, and carried to

prison with others of their friends, it may be forty or fifty at once.

This puts me in mind of what I heard my mother Judith Zinspenning say,

who in the year next following being gone for England, with William

Caton and his wife, who lived at Amsterdam, to visit her friends there,

and coming to London, went with others to the Bull and Mouth meeting;

but entrance being denied, they stayed in the street, where she saw one

preacher after another pulled down, at the instant cry of some officer

or other, ‘Constable, take him away.’ Several being thus led away, the

constable came also to her, and perceiving by her dress that she was

a Dutch woman, pulled her by the sleeve, and said with admiration,

‘What a Dutch Quaker!’ but meddled no further with her. This keeping

of meetings in the streets became now a customary thing in England;

for the Quakers, so called, were persuaded that the exercise of their

public worship was a duty no man could discharge them from, and they

believed that God required the performing of this service from their

hands. And by this meeting in the streets, it happened sometimes that

more than one, nay, it may be three or four at a time, did preach, one

in one place, and another in another, which in their meeting places

could not have been done conveniently. But thus they got abundance of

auditors, and among these sometimes eminent men, who passing by in

their coaches, made their coachmen stop. At this rate they found there

was a great harvest, and thus their church increased under sufferings;

and in those sharp times they were pretty well purified of dross, since

the trial was too hot for such as were not sincere: for by frequenting

their meetings in such a time, one was in danger of being imprisoned,

or beaten lame, or unto death; but this could not quench the zeal of

the upright.

Now the taking away of one preacher, and the standing up of another,

became an ordinary thing in England, and it lasted yet long after, as

I myself have been an eye-witness of there. And when there were no

more men preachers present, it may be a woman would rise, and minister

to the meeting; nay, there were such, who in years being little more

than boys, were endued with a manly zeal, and encouraged their friends

to steadfastness. In the meanwhile many also were imprisoned, without

being hauled out of their meetings; for some have been apprehended for

speaking only something on the behalf of their friends; as Rebecca

Travers, who, going to the lieutenant of the Tower, desired him

to have compassion on some who were imprisoned for frequenting of

meetings. But he grew angry at this; and when she went away, one of

the keepers gave her ill language: on which she exhorting him, to be

good in his place, whilst it was the Lord’s will he had it, he was so

offended, that going back to the lieutenant, he complained that she had

spoken treason, and thereupon she was apprehended, and sent to prison.

Nay, the rude soldiers were encouraged to cruelty by officers who were

not a whit better, for they themselves would sometimes lay violent

hands on peaceable people; as amongst the rest of the aforementioned,

alderman Richard Brown, who formerly had been a major-general under

Cromwell, and now behaved himself with such outrageous fierceness, that

even the comedians did not stick to expose him, by an allusion to his

name Brown, and saying, ‘The devil was brown.’

A book was also printed, wherein many base abuses, and also his furious

behaviour were exposed to public view; and this book was dedicated to

him with this small epistle:

‘_Richard Brown_,

‘If thou art not sealed up already for destruction, and if

repentance be not utterly hid from thy eyes, the Lord convert

thee, and forgive thee all thy hard and cruel dealings towards

us: we desire thy repentance rather than thy destruction; and the

Lord God of heaven and earth give judgment of final determination

between thee and us, that all the earth may know whether thy

cause against us, or our cause be just before him, who only is

the righteous judge.’

The said book, though published without the author’s name, yet one of

them was not only sent to Brown, but as a sign that the Quakers, so

called, owned it, others were, by about thirty of them, delivered to

the lord mayor, and the sheriffs of London, that so they might know

what was acted under their authority; for some, though not authorized,

yet being favourites at court, made bold to act against the Quakers

whatever their malice prompted them to. Among these was one Philip

Miller, who, though not an officer, yet in the month called May of

this year, came into a meeting of the said people, in John’s street,

in the parish of Sepulchres, at London, without any order or warrant,

and having a cane in his hand, commanded the rabble who attended him to

secure whom he pleased; and then he fetched a constable, whom he forced

by his threats to go along with him, and five persons he apprehended,

among whom was John Crook, of whom further mention is like to be made

again. Some days after, this Miller came to the said meeting place

again, and struck several persons with his cane, because they would

not depart at his command; and then he charged the constables, whom he

brought along with him, to secure and take into custody whom he pleased.

About the latter end of the aforesaid month, on a First-day of the

week, one captain Reeves, and some soldiers with muskets and drawn

swords, came violently rushing into the Bull and Mouth meeting, where

they pulled down him that was preaching, and presently laid hold of

another, who desired Reeves to show his order for this his doing:

to which he answered, he would not in that place; but it appeared

afterwards that he could not, as having no warrant. Yet he caused his

soldiers to take away about forty persons, (some of whom were not at

the meeting, but had been taken up in the streets,) and have them into

Paul’s yard, where they were kept till the public worship was ended

there; and then alderman Richard Brown came into the place where the

prisoners were guarded, and with great rage and fury laid hands first

on a very aged person, and pulled him down twice by the brim of his

hat, whereby he lost it. Then he served another in like manner, and a

soldier struck this person a great blow with a pistol on his bare head:

two others Brown used in the like manner, and then he sent them all to

Newgate, guarded by soldiers.

The same day some soldiers came to a meeting in Tower street, and

without any warrant, took away twenty-one persons, called Quakers,

and carried them to the Exchange, where they kept them some time, and

then brought them before the said Richard Brown, who in a most furious

manner struck some, and kicked others; which made one of the prisoners,

seeing how Brown smote one with his fist on the face, and kicked him

on the shin, say, ‘What Richard, wilt thou turn murderer? Thou didst

not do so when I was a soldier under thy command at Abingdon, and thou

commandedst me with others, to search people’s houses for pies and

roast meat, because they kept Christmas as a holy time; and we brought

the persons prisoners to the guard, for observing the same.’ For such

a precise man the said Brown was at that time, that he pretended to

root out that superstitious custom; though there is reason to question,

whether his heart were sincere in this respect: however, such blind

zeal was unfit to convince people of superstition; and Brown well

knowing that by his former carriage, he had very much disobliged those

of the church of England, endeavoured now to make amends for it, by

his fierce brutality against the harmless Quakers, and so to come into

favour with the ecclesiastics and courtiers. One of Brown’s family

having heard what was said to him, replied, ‘There is an Abingdon

bird.’ To which Brown, returned, ‘He is a rogue for all that,’ and

struck him with his fist under the chin; which made another prisoner

say, ‘What, a magistrate and strike!’ Upon which Brown with both his

hands pulled him down to the ground by the brim of his hat, and then

commanded the soldiers to take them all away, and carry them to Newgate.

Upon a First-day of the week, in the month called June, a company

of soldiers came into the Bull and Mouth meeting, with pikes, drawn

swords, muskets, and lighted matches, as if they were going to fight;

though they knew well enough they should find none there but harmless

people. The first thing they did was to pull down him that preached,

whom they hauled out of the meeting, rejoicing as if they had obtained

some great victory: then they brought him to the main guard at Paul’s,

and returned to the Bull and Mouth, where they apprehended some more,

whom they also carried to Paul’s. After some hours, these prisoners

were carried to the house of the fore-mentioned Brown, and he, asking

the names of the prisoners, and hearing that of John Perrot, said,

‘What, you have been at Rome to subvert,’ but recalling himself, said,

‘to convert the Pope.’ On which Perrot told him, ‘He had suffered at

Rome for the testimony of Jesus.’ Whereupon Brown returned, ‘If you had

converted the Pope to your religion, I should have liked him far worse

than I do now.’ To which Perrot replied, ‘But God would have liked him

better.’ After some more short discourse, Brown committed them all to

Newgate.

After this manner, the meetings of those called Quakers were disturbed

at that time, of which I could produce, if necessary, many more

instances. Once, one Cox, a wine-cooper, came with some soldiers into

a meeting, where, after great violence used, they took up two men of

those called Quakers, whom they beat most grievously, because they

refused to go along with them, though they showed no warrant for it.

At length the soldiers carried them both upon muskets into Paul’s

yard, and when they laid them down, they dragged one of them by the

heels on his back, in a very barbarous manner; which being done, the

said wine-cooper was heard to say, he would go and get a cup of sack,

for these devils had even wearied him out: and yet he went to another

meeting-place of these people, where he also behaved himself very

wickedly; and being asked for his order, his answer was holding out his

sword, this is my order. Thus it seems he would ingratiate himself with

Brown, who now being in favour at court, was knighted, and sometime

after also chosen lord mayor of London; and by his furious behaviour,

the soldiers were also encouraged to commit all manner of mischief;

insomuch, that being asked, what order they had for their doings, one

lifting up his musket, said, ‘This is my order:’ so that things now

were carried by a club-law. Nor did the soldiers respect age, but took

away out of a meeting at Mile-end, two boys, one about thirteen and the

other about sixteen; and they were brought before the lieutenant of the

Tower, who to one present, saying, he supposed they were not of the age

of sixteen years, and then not punishable by the act, returned, they

were old enough to be whipped; and they should be whipped out of their

religion. And so he sent them to Bridewell, where their hands were

put into the stocks, and so pinched for the space of two hours, that

their wrists were much swoln; and this was done because they refused

to work, as being persuaded that they had not deserved to be treated

so; they also eating nothing at the charge of the said workhouse. These

lads, though pretty long in that prison, yet continued steadfast,

rejoicing they were counted worthy to suffer for the name of the Lord:

and they wrote a letter to their friends’ children, exhorting them

to be faithful in bearing their testimony for the Lord, against all

wickedness and unrighteousness.

Some days before this time, Thomas and John Herbert, living in London,

and other musketeers, came with their naked swords into some private

dwellings, and broke two or three doors; (for when some persons were

seen to enter a house, though it was only to visit their friends, it

was called a meeting.) Now it happened in one house, these rude fellows

found five persons together, one of whom was William Ames, who was

come thither out of Holland, and another was Samuel Fisher: and when

it was demanded what warrant they had, they held up their swords,

and said, ‘Do not ask us for a warrant; this is our warrant.’ And

thereupon they took away these persons by force, and carried them to

Paul’s yard, where they were a laughing-stock to the soldiers; and from

thence they were brought to the Exchange, where they met with no better

reception from the rude soldiers; and from thence they were conducted

to alderman Brown’s house in Ivy-lane. He seeing these prisoners, sent

them to Bridewell with a mittimus, to be kept at hard labour. But

afterwards bethinking himself, and finding that his mittimus was not

founded on justice, (for these persons were not taken from a meeting,)

next morning he sent another mittimus, wherein they were charged with

unlawful assembling themselves to worship. Now, suppose one of the

musketeers had heard any of these persons speak by way of exhortation

to faithfulness in this hot time of persecution, this would have been

taken for a sufficient charge, though not cognizable by law: but they

ran upon shifts, how poor or silly soever.

Thus these persons were committed to Bridewell, and required to beat

hemp; and they were treated so severely, that W. Ames grew sick, even

nigh to death, wherefore he was discharged; for in a sense it might be

said, that his dwelling-place was at Amsterdam in Holland, since he was

there the most part of the time for some years successively, and that

he might not be chargeable, he worked at wool-combing; and it being

alleged that he was of Amsterdam, it seems they would not have him die

in prison, as some of his friends had done. The others having been six

weeks in Bridewell, were presented at the sessions in the Old Bailey:

but instead of being tried for what was charged against them, they

were required to take the oath of allegiance, as the only business,

(according to what the deputy recorder said,) they were brought thither

for. The prisoners then demanded, that the law might be read, by virtue

of which the said oath was required of them. This was promised by the

court to be done; but instead thereof, they ordered the clerk to read

only the form of the oath, but would not permit the law for imposing

it to be read. But before the prisoners had either declared their

willingness to take it, or their refusal of it, they were commanded to

be taken away; which the officers did with such violence, that they

threw some of them down upon stones. This made Samuel Fisher say, ‘Take

notice people, that we have not yet refused to take the oath; but the

court refuseth to perform their promise which they made but just now

before you all, that this statute for it should be read: if such doings

as this ever prosper, it must be when there is no God.’ But this was

not regarded; and the prisoners, without any justice were sent to

Newgate. Among these, was also one John Howel, who had been sent by

alderman Brown to work at Bridewell, because he being brought before

him, did not tell on a sudden what was his name: and being demanded

in the court why he did not tell his name, he answered, because he

had been beaten and abused in the presence of Richard Brown, when he

was brought before him. Brown, who was also on the bench, asked him

roughly, ‘Wherein were you abused?’ And Howel replied, ‘Blood was drawn

on me in thy presence; which ought not to be done in the presence of a

justice of peace.’ But Brown growing very impetuous, returned, ‘Hold

your prating, or there shall be as much done again here in the presence

of the court.’

About midsummer, Daniel Baker returned into England, (who, as hath been

related, had been at Malta,) and about a fortnight after his arrival,

he, with four others, were taken by a band of soldiers from the Bull

and Mouth meeting, and carried to Paul’s yard, where having been kept

for some hours, they were brought to Newgate; but in the evening they

were had before alderman Brown, to whom Baker with meekness said,

‘Let the fear of God and his peace be set up in thy heart.’ But Brown

fell a laughing, and said, ‘I would rather hear a dog bark;’ and

using more such scoffing expressions, he charged Baker, &c. with the

breach of the king’s law in meeting together. To which Baker said,

‘The servants of God in the apostles’ days, were commanded to speak no

more in the name of Jesus; and they answered, and so do I too, whether

it be better to obey God than men, judge ye.’ He also instanced the

case of the three children at Babylon, and Daniel who obeyed not the

king’s decrees. But Brown grew so angry, that he commanded his men to

smite Daniel on the face. This they did, and pulling him four or five

times to the ground, they smote him with their fists, and wrung his

neck so, as if they would have murdered him. This these fellows did

to please Brown, showing themselves to be ready for any service, how

abominable soever. And Baker reflecting on his travels, signified,

that even Turks and heathens would abhor such brutish actions. His

fellow-prisoners were also abused by Brown, and then sent to Newgate

again. And after some days, they were called to the sessions, where

their indictment was read, which like others in such cases, did

generally run in these terms: that the prisoners, under pretence of

performing religious worship, otherwise than by the laws of the kingdom

of England established, unlawfully and tumultuously did gather and

assemble themselves together, to the great terror of his majesty’s

people, and to the disturbance of the peace of the king, in contempt of

our said lord the king, and his laws, to the evil example of all others

in the like case offending, &c. The indictment being read, no witness

appeared against the prisoners, save Brown, who sat on the bench: and

therefore the oath, as the ordinary snare, was tendered to them; for it

was sufficiently known, that their profession did not suffer them to

take any oath. They denying to swear, were sent back to prison, to stay

there until they should have taken the oath.

If I would here set down all such like cases as have happened, I might

find more work than I should be able to perform: for this vexing with

the oath was become so common, that some have been taken up in the

streets, and brought to a justice of the peace, that he might tender

the oath to them, and in case of denial, send them to prison, though

this was directly contrary to the statute of Magna Charta, which

expressly saith, ‘No freeman shall be taken or imprisoned, or be

disseised of his freehold or liberties, but by the law of the land.’

But this was not regarded by Richard Brown, who did whatever he would;

for force and violence were now predominant: and sometimes when the

prisoners were brought to the bar, for frequenting meetings, freedom

was denied to them to justify themselves; but to be hectored and

baffled was their lot.

Once it happened, that a prisoner, who had been a soldier formerly

under Brown, seeing that no justice or equity was observed, called to

him, saying, ‘That he was not fit to sit on the bench; for he made the

son to hang the father at Abingdon; so that he could prove him to be

a murderer.’ This bold saying caused some disturbance in the court,

and Brown, how heavy soever the charge was, did not deny the thing

in court, nor clear himself from it: yet the other Quaker prisoners

did not approve this upbraiding, but signified, that though the fact

were true, yet they were not for reproaching any magistrate upon the

bench, whose place and office they did respect and honour. But I do not

find that Brown, (on that account,) ever prosecuted him that spoke so

boldly, although otherwise he did whatever he would, without fearing

that his fellow-magistrates, (who respected him that was a favourite at

court,) would disclaim it, as may appear by this following instance.

A certain person who had been in a very violent and abusive manner

taken to prison by the soldiers out of a meeting, because he was not

willing to go, said in the court, that his refusing to go, was because

they would not show him any warrant for their apprehending him: since

for aught he knew, they might be robbers or murderers, with whom he

was not bound to go. But Brown, who was for violence, said to this,

if they had dragged him through all the kennels in the street, they

had served him right, if he would not go. This he spoke in such a

furious manner, that one of the prisoners told him, ‘Thou hast had many

warnings and visitations in the love of God, but hast slighted them;

therefore beware of being sealed up in the wrath of God.’ Hereupon one

of the jailers came with his cane and struck several of the prisoners

so hard, that divers of them were much bruised; and it was reported by

some, that Brown cried knock him down, though others, (for mitigating

it a little,) would have it, pull him down. But the former seems most

probable: for the blows were so violent, that some of the spectators

cried out, murder! murder! and asked, ‘Will ye suffer men to be

murdered in the court?’ Whereupon one of the sheriffs in person came

down from his seat to stop the beating. But Brown was so desperately

filled with anger, that he said to the prisoners, ‘If any of you be

killed, your blood shall be upon your own head:’ and the hangman

standing by with his gag in his hand, threatened the prisoners to gag

any of them that should speak any thing. Thus innocence was forced

to give way to violence. And once, when one at the common juridical

question, guilty, or not guilty, answered, I deny I am guilty, and I

can say I am not guilty; and also in Latin, _non reus sum_. Yet he was

sentenced as mute, and fined accordingly, though the words he spoke,

fully signified not guilty, albeit he had not expressed them in the

same terms. But now they were for crossing the Quakers in every respect.

I will yet mention some more instances of Brown’s brutality, before

I leave him. Another being demanded to answer to his indictment,

guilty, or not guilty, and not presently answering, but thinking a

little what to speak safely, Brown scoffingly said, ‘We shall have a

revelation by and by.’ To which the prisoner said, ‘How long will ye

oppose the innocent? How long will ye persecute the righteous seed of

God?’ But whilst he was speaking, Brown indecently began to cry in

the language of those wenches that go crying up and down the streets,

‘Aha, aha! Will you have any Wellfleet oysters?’ And, ‘have you any

kitchen-stuff, maids?’ And when a prisoner at the bar said he could

not for conscience-sake forbear meeting among the people of God, Brown

scurrilously returned, ‘Conscience,--a dog’s tail.’ And when alderman

Adams speaking to one of the prisoners said, ‘I am sorry to see you

here.’ ‘Sorry!’ said Brown, ‘What should you be sorry for?’ ‘Yes,’ said

Adams, ‘He is a sober man.’ But Brown, who could not endure to hear

this, replied, that there never was a sober man amongst them, meaning

the Quakers. The spectators, who took much notice of him, discommended

this his carriage exceedingly. But he seemed to be quite hardened; for

at a certain time two persons being upon their trial for robbing of a

house, he told them, they were the veriest rogues in England, except it

were the Quakers.

Sometimes it happened that the prisoners were brought to the bar

without being indicted; and when they said, ‘What have we done?’

and desired justice; Brown, having no indictment against them,

often cried, ‘Will you take the oath?’ And they then saying, ‘that

for conscience-sake they could not swear,’ were condemned as

transgressors, though such proceedings as these were directly against

the law. But this seemed at that time little to be regarded.

However, sometime before, it happened at Thetford in the county of

Norfolk, that judge Windham, at that time showing himself just in the

like case, sharply reproved the justices upon the bench, for having not

only committed some persons to prison, but also had them up to the bar,

when no accuser appeared against them. But Richard Brown did whatever

he would, and showed himself most furiously wicked, when any prisoner

was brought before him with his hat on.

One John Brain, being taken in the street, and not in any meeting, was

brought by some soldiers before Brown; who, seeing him with his hat on,

ordered him to be pulled down to the ground six or seven times, and

when he was down, they beat his head against the ground, and stamped

upon him; and Brown, like a madman, bade them pull off his nose;

whereupon they very violently pulled him by the nose. And when he was

got up, they pulled him to the ground by the hair of his head, and

then by the hair pulled him up again. And when he would have spoken in

his own behalf against this cruelty, Brown bade them stop his mouth.

Whereupon they not only struck him on the mouth, but stopped his mouth

and nose also so close, that he could not draw breath, and was like to

be choaked: at which actions Brown fell a laughing, and at length sent

him to jail.

Thomas Spire, being brought before Brown, he commanded his hat to

be taken off; and because it was not done with such violence as he

intended, he caused it to be put upon his head again, saying, ‘It

should not be pulled off so easily.’ Then he was pulled down to the

ground by his hat, and pulled up again by his hair. William Hill being

brought before him, he commanded his hat to be pulled off, so that his

head might be bowed down: whereupon he being pulled to the ground,

was plucked up again by the hair of his head. George Ableson was thus

pulled five times one after another to the ground, and plucked up by

his hair, and so beaten on his face, or the sides of his head, that he

staggered, and bled, and for some days was under much pain.

Nicholas Blithold being brought before Brown, he took his hat with both

his hands, endeavouring to pull him down to the ground; and because

he fell not quite to the ground forwards, he pushed him, to throw him

backwards; and then he gave him a kick on the leg, and thrust him

out of doors. Thomas Lacy being brought before him, he himself gave

him a blow on the face; and Isaac Merrit, John Cook, Arthur Baker,

and others, were not treated much better; so that he seemed more fit

to have been hangman, than an alderman, or justice. But I grow weary

of mentioning more instances of his cruelty. These his abominable

achievements were published in print, more at large than I have

mentioned them: and the book, as hath been said already, was dedicated

to him. And yet I do not find any have been prosecuted on that account;

though his wickedness was extravagant, and such as if he wanted to

have stakes erected at Smithfield to vend his wood; being by trade a

woodmonger.

In this hot time of persecution, Francis Howgill wrote, and gave forth

the following paper for encouragement of his friends.

‘The cogitations of my heart have been many, deep, and ponderous

some months, weeks, and days, concerning this people which the

Lord hath raised to bear testimony unto his name, in this the

day of his power; and intercession hath been made often for them

to the Lord, and a patient waiting to know his mind concerning

them for the time to come; which often I received satisfaction

in as to myself, but yet something I was drawn by the Lord to

wait for, that I might comfort and strengthen his flock by an

assured testimony. And while I was waiting out of all visible

things, and quite out of the world in my spirit, and my heart

upon nothing but the living God, the Lord opened the springs of

the great deep, and overflowed my whole heart with light and

love; and my eyes were as a fountain because of tears of joy,

because of his heritage, of whom he showed me, and said unto me

in a full, fresh, living power, and a holy, full testimony, so

that my heart was ravished there with joy unspeakable, and I was

out of the body with God in his heavenly paradise, where I saw

and felt things unutterable, and beyond all demonstration or

speech. At last the life closed with my understanding, and my

spirit listened unto him; and the everlasting God said, “Shall

I hide any thing from them that seek my face in righteousness?

Nay, I will manifest it to them that fear me; I will speak, do

thou listen, and publish it among all my people, that they may be

comforted, and thou satisfied.” And thus said the living God of

heaven and earth, upon the 28th of the Third month, 1662.

‘The sun shall leave its shining brightness, and cease to give

light to the world; and the moon shall be altogether darkness,

and give no light unto the night; the stars shall cease to know

their office or place; my covenant with day, night, times, and

seasons, shall sooner come to an end, than the covenant I have

made with this people, into which they are entered with me, shall

end, or be broken. Yea, though the powers of darkness and hell

combine against them, and the jaws of death open its mouth, yet

I will deliver them, and lead them through all. I will confound

their enemies as I did in Jacob, and scatter them as I did in

Israel in the days of old. I will take their enemies, I will hurl

them hither and thither, as stones hurled in a sling; and the

memorial of this nation, which is holy unto me, shall never be

rooted out, but shall live through ages, as a cloud of witnesses,

in generations to come. I have brought them to the birth, yea,

I have brought them forth; I have swaddled them, and they are

mine. I will nourish them, and carry them, as on eagles’ wings;

and though clouds gather against them, I will make my way through

them; though darkness gather together on a heap, and tempests

gender, I will scatter them as with an east wind; and nations

shall know they are my inheritance, and they shall know I am the

living God, who will plead their cause with all that rise up in

opposition against them.

‘These words are holy, faithful, eternal, good, and true; blessed

are they that hear and believe unto the end: and because of them

no strength was left in me for a while; but at last my heart was

filled with joy, even as when the ark of God was brought from

the house of Obed-Edom, when David danced before it, and Israel

shouted for joy.

The History of the Rise, Increase, and Progress of the Christian People Called Quakers Intermixed with Several Remarkable Occurrencs. · 第 66 / 147 题