that the justice, justices of the peace, and chief magistrate
respectively, or the respective constables, headboroughs, and
tithingmen, by warrant from the said justice, justices, or chief
magistrate respectively, shall and may with what aid, force and
assistance they shall think fit, for the better execution of this
act, after refusal or denial to enter, break open, and enter
into any house or other place, where they shall be informed any
such conventicle, as aforesaid, is or shall be held, as well
within liberties as without: (2) and take into their custody
the persons there unlawfully assembled, to the intent they
may be proceeded against according to this act: (3) and that
the lieutenants or deputy-lieutenants, or any commissionated
officer in the militia, or other of his majesty’s forces,
with such troops or companies of horse and foot; and also the
sheriffs, and other magistrates and ministers of justice, or
any of them, jointly or severally, within any of the counties
or places within this kingdom of England, dominion of Wales, or
town of Berwick-upon-Tweed, with such other assistance as they
shall think meet, or can get in readiness with the soonest, on
certificate made to them respectively under the hand and seal
of any one justice of the peace or chief magistrate, of his
particular information or knowledge of such unlawful meeting or
conventicle held, or to be held in their respective counties or
places, and that he with such assistance as he can get together,
is not able to suppress and dissolve the same, shall and may, and
are hereby required and enjoined to repair unto the place where
they are so held, or to be held, and by the best means they can,
to dissolve, dissipate or prevent all such unlawful meetings, and
take into their custody such and so many of the said persons so
unlawfully assembled as they shall think fit, to the intent that
they may be proceeded against according to this act.
X. Provided always, that no dwelling-house of any peer of this
realm, where he or his wife shall then be resident, shall be
searched by virtue of this act, but by immediate warrant from
his majesty, under his sign manual, or in the presence of the
lieutenant, or one deputy-lieutenant, or two justices of the
peace, whereof one to be of the quorum, of the same county or
riding.
XI. And be it further enacted by the authority aforesaid, that
if any constable, headborough, tithingman, churchwarden or
overseer of the poor, who shall know, or be credibly informed
of any such meetings or conventicles held within his precincts,
parishes, or limits, and shall not give information thereof to
some justice of the peace, or the chief magistrate, and endeavour
the conviction of the parties according to his duty; but such
constable, headborough, tithingman, churchwarden, overseers of
the poor, or any person lawfully called in aid of the constable,
headborough, or tithingman, shall wilfully and wittingly omit the
performance of his duty, in the execution of this act, and be
thereof convicted in manner aforesaid, he shall forfeit for every
such offence, the sum of five pounds, to be levied upon his goods
and chattels, and disposed in manner aforesaid: (2) and that if
any justice of the peace, or chief magistrate, shall wilfully
and wittingly omit the performance of his duty in the execution
of this act, he shall forfeit the sum of one hundred pounds,
the one moiety to the use of the informer, to be recovered by
action, suit, bill, or plaint, in any of his majesty’s courts
at Westminster, wherein no essoign, protection, or wager of law
shall lie.
XII. And be it further enacted by the authority aforesaid, that
if any person be at any time sued for putting in execution any
of the powers contained in this act, otherwise than upon appeal
allowed by this act, such person shall and may plead the general
issue, and give the special matter in evidence; (2) and if the
plaintiff be non-suit, or a verdict pass for the defendant, or
if the plaintiff discontinue his action, or if upon demurrer
judgment be given for the defendant, every such defendant shall
have his full treble costs.
XIII. And be it further enacted by the authority aforesaid,
that this act, and all clauses therein contained, shall be
construed most largely and beneficially for the suppressing of
conventicles, and for the justification and encouragement of all
persons to be employed in the execution thereof: (2) and that no
record, warrant, or mittimus to be made by virtue of this act,
or any proceedings thereupon, shall be reversed, avoided, or any
way impeached by reason of any default in form. (3) And in case
any person offending against this act, shall be an inhabitant in
any other county or corporation, or fly into any other county or
corporation after the offence committed, the justice of peace or
chief magistrate before whom he shall be convicted as aforesaid,
shall certify the same under his hand and seal, to any justice
of peace or chief magistrate of such other county or corporation
wherein the said person or persons are inhabitants, or are fled
into; (4) which said justice or chief magistrate respectively, is
hereby authorized and required to levy the penalty or penalties
in this act mentioned, upon the goods and chattels of such person
or persons, as fully as the said other justice of peace might
have done, in case he or they had been inhabitants in the place
where the offence was committed.
XIV. Provided also, that no person shall be punished for any
offence against this act unless such offender be prosecuted for
the same within three months after the offence committed. (2) And
that no person who shall be punished for any offence by virtue of
this act, shall be punished for the same offence by virtue of any
other act or law whatsoever.
XV. Provided, and be it further enacted by the authority
aforesaid, that every alderman of London for the time being,
within the city of London, and the liberties thereof, shall have,
(and they and every of them are hereby empowered and required to
execute,) the same power and authority within London, and the
liberties thereof, for the examining, convicting, and punishing
of all offences within this act committed within London, and the
liberties thereof, which any justice of peace hath by this act in
any county of England, and shall be subject to the same penalties
and punishments, for not doing that which by this act is directed
to be done by any justice of peace in any county of England.
XVI. Provided, and be it enacted by the authority aforesaid,
that if the person offending, and convicted as aforesaid, be a
feme-covert, cohabiting with her husband, the penalties of five
shillings, and ten shillings, so as aforesaid incurred, shall be
levied by warrant, as aforesaid, upon the goods and chattels of
the husband of such feme-covert.
XVII. Provided also, that no peer of this realm shall be attached
or imprisoned by virtue or force of this act; any thing, matter,
or clause, therein to the contrary notwithstanding.
XVIII. Provided also, that neither this act, nor any thing
therein contained, shall extend to invalidate or make void his
majesty’s supremacy in ecclesiastical affairs: (2) but that his
majesty, and his heirs and successors, may from time to time,
and at all times hereafter, exercise and enjoy all powers and
authority in ecclesiastical affairs, as fully and as amply as
himself or any of his predecessors have or might have done the
same: any thing in this act notwithstanding.
By this very law many an honest family was impoverished; for the
Quakers did not leave off meeting together publicly, but the most
sincere amongst them were the more zealous, and they were the more
winnowed from the chaff, which in time of ease gets in amongst
religious professors; and none need wonder at it, since the Quakers
having gained the repute of an upright-hearted people, some, for
by-ends, might creep in amongst them.
At London, as well as at other places, many were spoiled of their goods
very unmercifully, and many times people of good substance brought to
mere poverty, seeing not only the shop goods of some, but also their
household goods have been seized, insomuch that the very sick have had
their beds taken from under them, and they themselves laid upon the
floor; nay, they have been so cruel, as to leave them nothing; insomuch
that when the child’s pap hath stood in a pannikin, they have thrown
out the pap to take the pannikin away.
Should I sum up all the particulars I have received, and the account
I could give, it would make a volume of itself; for the informers
were generally poor, and sometimes also the justices, so that they
knew how to part their booty belonging to the king, as well as to
the poor; and thus the king and the poor got but little of their
plunder. Nevertheless it so happened sometimes, that those who were
finable, were freed by the justices; for they knew very well, that
these informers, who were also witnesses, were cunning sharkers, who
were also concerned to get their thirds of the booty, and therefore
found out a way by which they showed that they were knavish and unjust
in their office, therefore not fit to give evidence; so that it hath
sometimes fallen out, that an honest justice hath cleared those
informed against, when the informer missed in his evidence, either in
the day of the month, or the like, in the complaint.
At London there once appeared before the lord mayor, sitting at a
court of aldermen, an impudent informer having such a quantity of
informations for fines as would have wronged the parties to the value
of 1500_l._ but the mayor abominating such a practice, adjourned the
court, and went away. But this hardy informer was not content to let
the matter fall thus, but appeared before the court from time to time,
to make a booty of honest people’s goods; but they still put him off,
until at last he was himself arrested for debt, and carried to prison,
where he ended his days.
Although now the law against seditious conventicles had passed, upon
a supposition that the Presbyterians were ready to rise, considering
the bustle and tumult occasioned by John Fox in Gloucestershire, which
was much taken notice of, as I have mentioned before, yet nevertheless
the Quakers’ meetings became the chief object in the execution of this
law. Whereupon G. Fox being in London, set forth in print the injustice
of this law, in order, if possible, to moderate the government not to
put the same in execution. Nevertheless, being also sensible that a
great storm hung over the heads of friends, he also wrote an epistle
to them, to exhort them to faithfulness, and to encourage them to
stand fast in their testimony, and hear with Christian patience the
suffering that was come upon them. Now the First-day that this law
took place, he went to the meeting of friends at Gracechurch-street
in London; but being come to the place, he found the street full of
people, and a guard to keep them out of their meeting-house; whereupon
he went to Lombard street, (out of which there was also a passage to
the meeting-house,) and there he also found a guard; but there being
a court before the door, which was full of people, one of the Quaker
ministers was there preaching to the people, and when he had ended, G.
Fox stood up and said, “Saul, Saul, why persecutest thou me; it is hard
for thee to kick against the pricks.” Which words he thus explained:
that it was Saul’s nature that persecuted; and that they persecuting
Christ in his members, were kicking against the pricks; and that it
was the birth of the flesh that persecuted the birth of the Spirit;
and that it was the nature of dogs to tear and devour the sheep, but
that they suffered like sheep, who did not bite again; but were a
peaceable people, who loved even their persecutors. While G. Fox was
thus preaching, there came a constable and an informer, with soldiers,
who pulled him down from the place he stood on. Then, said he, “Blessed
are the peace-makers,” but the commander of the soldiers ordered
them to secure him: ‘For,’ said he, ‘you are the man I looked for.’
Wherefore he with two more of his friends, John Burnet and another,
were had before the lord mayor; and as they were going, the informer
said, ‘It will never be a good world, until all people come to the good
old religion that was two hundred years ago.’ G. Fox hearing this,
said, ‘Art thou a Papist? What! a Papist informer? For two hundred
years ago there was no other public profession of religion but that of
the Papists in this nation.’ It vexed the informer that G. Fox heard
him speak thus; for he now saw he was ensnared in his own talk. When
he came into the court before the lord mayor’s house, some people who
were there asked G. Fox, why he was brought thither prisoner? ‘Pray,’
said he, ‘ask that informer, and ask him his name;’ but he would not
tell his name. Then one of the mayor’s officers looking out at a
window, told him, he should tell his name before he went away: ‘For,’
said he, ‘the lord mayor will know by what authority you have intruded
yourself with soldiers in the execution of those laws which it belongs
to the civil magistrate to execute, and not the military.’ The informer
understanding this, got away, but not without some difficulty, because
they would not then let him out of the court; but he forcibly pulling
open the door, and being got into the street, the people gave a great
shout, crying out, ‘a Papist informer! a Papist informer!’ and he would
have come off but badly, had not G. Fox advised the constable and
soldiers to keep him out of the hands of the common people. Whereupon
he went into the house and changed his perriwig, and so got away.
When the lord mayor came home, and G. Fox was brought before him,
he said, ‘Mr. Fox, you are an eminent man among those of your own
profession, pray will you be instrumental to persuade them from meeting
in such great numbers: for,’ said he, ‘seeing Christ hath promised,
where two or three are met in his name, he will be in the midst of
them; and the king and parliament are graciously pleased to allow of
four to meet together to worship God, why will not you be content
to partake both of Christ’s promise to two or three, and the king’s
indulgence to four?’ To which G. Fox answered, that Christ’s promise
was not to discourage many from meeting together in his name; but to
encourage the few, that the fewest might not forbear to meet, because
of their fewness. But if Christ hath promised to manifest his presence
in the midst of so small an assembly, where but two or three were
gathered in his name; how much more would his presence abound where
two or three hundred are gathered in his name. G. F. wished him to
consider, whether this act would not have taken hold of Christ, with
his twelve apostles and seventy disciples, (if it had been in their
time,) who used to meet often together; and that with great numbers?
However, he told him, this act did not concern us; for it was made
against seditious meetings, of such as met under pretence and colour of
religion, to contrive insurrections, as, the act says, late experience
had shown; but we had been sufficiently tried and proved, and always
found peaceable: and therefore he should do well to put a difference
between the innocent and the guilty. He said the act was made against
meetings, and a worship not according to the liturgy. G. F. told him,
[according to,] was not the very same thing; and asked him, whether the
liturgy was according to the Scriptures? And whether we might not read
Scriptures, and speak Scriptures? he said Yes. And told him, that this
act took hold only of such as meet to plot and contrive insurrections,
as late experience had shown; but they had never experienced that by
us. Because thieves are sometimes on the road, must not honest men
travel therefore? And because plotters and contrivers have met to do
mischief, must not an honest, peaceable people, meet to do good? If we
had been a people that did meet to plot and contrive insurrections,
&c. we might have drawn ourselves into fours; for four might do more
mischief in plotting, than if there were four hundred; because four
might speak out their minds more freely one to another, than four
hundred could: therefore we being innocent, and not the people this act
concerns, we keep our meetings as we used to do; and said, he believed
that he knew in his conscience we were innocent.
After this and more discourse, the lord mayor, whose name was Samuel
Starling, let them go, seeing the informer was gone before, and now
nobody accused them. The treatment this informer met with, made others
scrupulous, yet several of their meetings in London were disturbed,
and some of their preachers cast into prison; but though the Baptists
and other dissenters ceased their public meetings, yet the Quakers
continued to keep theirs, as they used to do, whereby it happened that
some of their meeting-houses were pulled down, and amongst others that
at Ratcliffe, which was a substantial building, almost new.
After some time, the heat of persecution in the city began to abate,
but in other places it raged more fiercely; this engaged G. Fox to
leave the city, and travel about the country in divers places to visit
his friends.
This year G. Fox, had a very great fit of sickness, to such a degree,
that he became both blind and deaf, insomuch that his recovery was
despaired of by some; but after a time he grew better.
In the meanwhile persecution in many places grew very dismal; for many
of the friends were beaten with swords, and pikes, and muskets, to that
degree, that their blood ran along the ground, and the informers were
so very eager to hunt after their prey, that they informed of meetings
when there was none. Amongst others, this following was an instance.
A Droitwitch, John Cartwright came to a friend’s house there, who
sitting down to supper, he prayed before they ate, which being heard
by an informer, the room being next to the street, he thereupon went
immediately and informed that there was a meeting in the house, and so
got a warrant to distrain the goods; and when he came riding with them
in the evening, he fell from his horse, and brake his neck, thereby
getting his death instead of his prey, which he hunted after.
Now, although persecution was not so hot in London, as in other places
in the country, yet sometimes even there it was very severe, as may be
seen by the instance of William Penn, and William Mead, who were taken
from a meeting and imprisoned, and tried for the same in the month of
September.
The indictment contained, ‘That William Penn, and William Mead,
with divers other persons, to the number of three hundred, at
Gracechurch-street, in London, on the 15th of August, with force and
arms, had tumultuously assembled together, and that William Penn, by
agreement between him and William Mead, had preached there in the
public street, whereby was caused a great concourse and tumult of the
people,’ &c. That there was a public meeting in the street, proceeded
from necessity; because a guard was placed in the passage to hinder
friends from going into their meeting-house; but it was a great untruth
that they met with force and arms, which were never used by the
Quakers. This indictment being read before the court, the prisoners
were demanded, according to custom, whether they were guilty, or not
guilty? Whereupon W. Penn said, ‘It is impossible that we should be
able to remember the indictment verbatim, and therefore we desire a
copy of it, as is customary on the like occasions.’ The recorder,
John Howel said hereupon, ‘You must first plead to the indictment
before you can have a copy of it.’ Then W. Penn said, that he first
desired that no advantage might be taken against him, nor he deprived
of any benefit, which he might otherwise receive, and that the court
would promise him a fair hearing, and liberty of making his defence.
Upon which the court said, that no advantage should be taken against
him, and that he should have liberty, and should be heard. W. Penn
then said, he pleaded not guilty in manner and form. Then W. Mead
was demanded, whether he was guilty, or not guilty, and he answered
the same as W. Penn. The court then proceeded with the business of
trying thieves and murderers, making the prisoners stay waiting five
hours, and then returned them to prison; and after two days brought
them again before the court. And the officers of the court having
taken off the prisoners’ hats, the lord mayor, Samuel Starling, showed
himself displeased with it, and ordered the officers to put on their
hats again, which being done, the recorder John Howel, who upon all
occasions showed his fierceness, accused him, that they showed no
respect to the court, and condemned them for it, in a fine of forty
marks each, because they had not taken off their hats. Thereupon W.
Penn said, that he desired it might be observed, that they came into
court with their hats off, (that is, taken off,) and if they had been
put on since, it is by order from the bench, and therefore not the
prisoners, but the bench should be fined. The jury then being sworn,
and the indictment read again, the witnesses were called, who declared
that they saw W. Penn speaking to the people, who were assembled in a
great number in Gracechurch-street, but they could not hear what he
said.
The recorder then asked William Mead, whether he was there? Who
answered, that ‘It is a maxim in your own law, _nemo tenetur accusare
seipsum_, which if it be not true Latin, I am sure it is good English.
That no man is bound to accuse himself; why then dost thou offer to
ensnare me with such a question?’ Hereupon the recorder showed himself
so displeased, that he said, ‘Sir, hold your tongue, I did not go about
to ensnare you.’ Then William Penn said, ‘we confess ourselves to be
so far from recanting, or declining to vindicate the assembling of
ourselves, to preach, pray, or worship the Eternal, Holy, Just God,
that we declare to all the world, that we do believe it to be our
indispensable duty, to meet incessantly, upon so good an account; nor
shall all the powers upon earth be able to divert us from reverencing
and adoring our God who made us.’ The sheriff, Richard Brown, said.
‘You are not here for worshipping of God, but for breaking the law. You
do yourselves a great deal of wrong in going on in that discourse.’
Hereupon W. Penn answered, ‘I affirm I have broken no law, nor am I
guilty of the indictment that is laid to my charge: and to the end,
the bench, the jury, and myself, with these that hear us, may have a
more direct understanding of this procedure, I desire you would let me
know by what law it is you prosecute me, and upon what law you ground
my indictment?’ The recorder answered, ‘Upon the common law.’ ‘Where
is,’ asked W. Penn, ‘that common law?’ ‘You must not think,’ said the
recorder, ‘that I am able to run up so many years, and over so many
adjudged cases, which we call common law, to answer your curiosity.’
‘This answer,’ replied W. Penn, ‘I am sure is very short of my
question, for if it be common, it should not be so hard to produce.’
The recorder replied, ‘Sir, will you plead to your indictment?’ ‘Shall
I,’ answered W. Penn, ‘plead to an indictment that hath no foundation
in law? If it contain that law ye say I have broken, why should you
decline to produce that law, since it will be impossible for the jury
to determine, or agree to bring in the verdict, who have not the law
produced, by which they should measure the truth of this indictment,
and the guilt or contrary of my fact.’ The recorder being angry, said,
‘You are a saucy fellow, speak to the indictment.’ W. Penn replied,
‘I say, it is my place to speak to matter of law; I am arraigned a
prisoner, my liberty, which is next to life itself, is now concerned,’
&c.
At this time several upon the bench urged hard upon the prisoner to
hear him down. W. Penn said, ‘You are many mouths and ears against
me, and if I must not be allowed to make the best of my cause, it is
hard; I say again, unless you show me and the people the law you ground
your indictment upon, I shall take it for granted your proceedings are
merely arbitrary.’ The recorder then replying, said, ‘The question
is, whether you are guilty of this indictment.’ ‘The question,’ said
W. Penn, ‘is not whether I am guilty of this indictment, but whether
this indictment be legal: it is too general and imperfect an answer,
to say it is the common law, unless we know both where, and what it
is: for where there is no law, there is no transgression; and that
law which is not in being, is so far from being common, that it is
no law at all.’ The recorder snapped him hereupon, with, ‘You are an
impertinent fellow, will you teach the court what law is? It is _lex
non scripta_, that which many have studied thirty or forty years to
know, and would you have me tell you in a moment.’ ‘Certainly,’ replied
W. Penn, ‘if the common law be so hard to be understood, it is far from
being very common; but if the lord Coke in his institutes, be of any
consideration, he tells us, that common law is common right; and that
common right is the great charter privileges confirmed, 9 Hen. 3. 29.
25 Edw. 1. 1. 2 Edw. 3. 8. Coke’s Institutes, 2. p. 56.’ The recorder
taking no pleasure in that speech, said, ‘Sir, you are a troublesome
fellow, and it is not for the honour of the court to suffer you to go
on.’ ‘I have,’ replied W. Penn, ‘asked but one question, and you have
not answered me; though the rights and privileges of every Englishman
be concerned in it.’ ‘Well,’ said the recorder, ‘if I should suffer you
to ask questions till to-morrow morning, you would be never the wiser.’
‘That is,’ said W. Penn, ‘according as the answers are.’ ‘But,’ says
the recorder, ‘we must not stand to hear you talk all night.’ Whereupon
W. Penn replied, ‘I desire no affront to the court, but to be heard in
my just plea; and I must plainly tell you, that if you deny me the oyer
of that law, which you suggest I have broken, you do at once deny me an
acknowledged right, and evidence to the whole world your resolution to
sacrifice the privileges of Englishmen, to your sinister and arbitrary
designs.’ This so enraged the recorder, that he called out to the
officers, ‘Take him away.’ And to the lord mayor he said, ‘My lord, if
you take not some course with this pestilent fellow, to stop his mouth,
we shall not be able to do any thing to-night.’ Then the lord mayor
cried, ‘Take him away; take him away; turn him into the bail-dock.’
W. Penn seeing how force and violence prevailed, said, ‘These are but
so many vain exclamations; is this justice or true judgment? Must I
therefore be taken away because I plead for the fundamental laws of
England?’ Then addressing himself to the jury, he said, ‘However, this
I leave upon your consciences who are of the jury, and my sole judges,
that if these ancient fundamental laws which relate to liberty and
property, and are not limited to particular persuasions in matters of
religion, must not be indispensably maintained and observed, who can
say he hath right to the coat upon his back? Certainly our liberties
are openly to be invaded, our wives to be ravished, our children
enslaved, our families ruined, and our estates led away in triumph,
by every sturdy beggar and malicious informer, as their trophies, by
our pretended forfeits for conscience-sake. The Lord of heaven and
earth will be judge between us in this matter.’ The hearing of this
emphatical speech was so troublesome to the recorder, that he cried,
‘Be silent there.’ At which W. Penn returned, ‘I am not to be silent in
a cause wherein I am so much concerned, and not only myself, but many
ten thousand families besides.’
He being now hauled into the bail-dock, it was W. Mead’s turn to plead,
who spoke thus, ‘Ye men of the jury, I now stand here to answer to an
indictment against me, which is a bundle of stuff full of lies and
falsehoods: for therein I am accused, that I met _vi & armis, illicite
& tumultuose_. Time was when I had freedom to use a carnal weapon, and
then I thought I feared no man: but now I fear the living God, and dare
not make use thereof, nor hurt any man, nor do I know I demeaned myself
as a tumultuous person. I say, I am a peaceable man; therefore it was
a very proper question that W. Penn demanded in this case, an oyer of
the law, on which our indictment is grounded.’ To this the recorder
said, ‘I have made an answer to that already.’ W. Mead then turning
his face to the jury, said, ‘Ye men of the jury, who are my judges, if
the recorder will not tell you what makes a riot, a rout, or unlawful
assembly, Coke, he that once they called the lord Coke, tells us what
makes a riot, a rout, or unlawful assembly. A riot is when three or
more are met together to beat a man, or to enter forcibly into another
man’s land, to cut down his grass, his wood, or break down his pales.’
The recorder interrupting him, and scornfully pulling off his hat,
said, ‘I thank you, sir, that you will tell me what the law is:’ and
Richard Brown, that inveterate enemy of the Quakers, said, ‘He talks at
random, one while an Independent, another while of some other religion,
and now a Quaker, and next a Papist.’ Mead, not being minded openly to
affront this alderman, told him this well-known Latin verse.
_Turpa est doctori cum culpa redarguit ipsum_,
for Brown himself formerly had been an Independent, though now he
belonged to the church of England, and was of the court party. But the
lord mayor, who it seems was a great friend of Brown’s, said to Mead,
‘You deserve to have your tongue cut out.’ ‘And,’ added the recorder,
‘if you discourse on this manner, I shall take occasion against you.’
To which Mead returned, ‘Thou didst promise me I should have fair
liberty to be heard. Why may I not have the privilege of an Englishman?
and you might be ashamed of this dealing.’ At this the envious recorder
said, ‘I look upon you to be an enemy to the laws of England, which
ought to be observed and kept; nor are you worthy of such privileges as
others have.’ Mead well seeing that force and violence prevailed, and
that his speaking could not avail him, said with a composed mind, ‘The
Lord be judge between me and thee in this matter.’
Upon which he was taken away into the bail-dock, and the recorder gave
the jury the following charge: ‘You have heard what the indictment is;
it is for preaching to the people, and drawing a tumultuous company
after them; and Mr. Penn was speaking. If they should not be disturbed,
you see they will go on; there are three or four witnesses that have
proved this, that he did preach there; that Mr. Mead did allow of
it; after this, you have heard by substantial witnesses what is said
against them. Now we are upon the matter of fact, which you are to keep
to, and observe, as what hath been fully sworn, at your peril.’ That
the recorder spoke this to the jury in the absence of the prisoners,
was indeed irregular; wherefore W. Penn, who heard this from afar,
spoke with a very raised voice, that so he might be heard by those on
the bench, after this manner, ‘I appeal to the jury, who are my judges,
and to this great assembly, whether the proceedings of the court are
not most arbitrary, and void of all law, in offering to give the jury
their charge in the absence of the prisoners. I say it is directly
opposite to, and destructive of the undoubted right of every English
prisoner, as Coke in the 2 Inst. on the chap. of Magna Charta, speaks.’
The recorder being thus unexpectedly lashed for his extra-judicial
procedure, said with a disdainful smile, ‘Why, ye are present; you do
hear, do you not?’ To which Penn returned, ‘No thanks to the court,
that commanded me into the bail-dock: and you of the jury take notice,
that I have not been heard, neither can you legally depart the court,
before I have been fully heard, having at least ten or twelve material
points to offer, in order to invalidate their indictment.’ This plain
speaking of W. Penn, so enraged the recorder, that he cried, ‘Pull
that fellow down; pull him down.’ For Penn it seems, to be heard the
better, was clambered up a little by the rails of the bail-dock. Then
W. Mead said, ‘Are these according to the rights and privileges of
Englishmen, that we should not be heard, but turned into the bail-dock
for making our defence; and the jury to have their charge given them in
our absence? I say, these are barbarous and unjust proceedings.’ The
recorder yet more incensed, cried, ‘Take them away into the hole: to
hear them talk all night as they would, that I think doth not become
the honour of the court.’
The prisoners being kept in a stinking hole, the jury were commanded
up, to agree upon their verdict; and after an hour and half’s time,
eight came down agreed, but four remained above: the court then sent
an officer for them, and they accordingly came down; but the court
used many indecent threats to the four that dissented, and after much
menacing language, and a very imperious behaviour against the jury, the
prisoners being brought to the bar, the foreman was asked, ‘How say
you; is William Penn guilty of the matter whereof he stands indicted
in manner and form, or not guilty?’ Foreman: ‘Guilty of speaking in
Gracechurch-street.’ The next question was, ‘Is that all?’ Foreman:
‘That is all I have in commission.’ This answer so displeased the
recorder, that he said, ‘You had as good say nothing.’ And the lord
mayor, Starling, said, ‘Was it not an unlawful assembly? You mean
he was speaking to a tumult of people there?’ To which the foreman
returned, ‘My lord, this was all I had in commission.’ Some of the jury
seemed now to buckle to the questions of the court; but others opposed
themselves, and said they allowed of no such word as an unlawful
assembly in their verdict: at which some of the bench took occasion to
vilify them with opprobrious language. And because the court would not
dismiss the jury before they gave a more satisfactory verdict, they
called for pen, ink, and paper, and so went up again: and after half an
hour returning, delivered the following verdict in writing.
‘We, the jurors hereafter named, do find William Penn to be
guilty of speaking or preaching to an assembly, met together
in Gracechurch-street, the 14th of August last, 1670, and that
William Mead is not guilty of the said indictment.
_Foreman._ _Thomas Veer_,
_Edward Bushel_,
_John Hammond_,
_Henry Henly_,
_Henry Michel_,
_John Brightman_,
_Charles Milson_,
_Gregory Walklet_,
_John Baily_,
_William Lever_,
_James Damask_,
_William Plumsted_.’
This verdict the mayor and recorder resented at so high a rate, that
they exceeded the bounds of all moderation and civility; and the
recorder said, ‘Gentlemen, you shall not be dismissed till we have
a verdict, that the court will accept; and you shall be locked up,
without meat, drink, fire, and tobacco: you shall not think thus to
abuse the court; we will have a verdict by the help of God, or you
shall starve for it.’
Now, though the jury had given in their verdict, and signified that
they could give no other, yet all was in vain; and W. Penn seeing
how they were treated against all reason, said, ‘My jury, who are my
judges, ought not to be thus menaced; their verdict should be free,
and not compelled; the bench ought to wait upon them, but not forestal
them. I do desire that justice may be done me, and that the arbitrary
resolves of the bench may not be made the measure of my jury’s
verdict.’ This modest speech so incensed the recorder, that he cried,
‘Stop that prating fellow’s mouth, or put him out of the court.’ And
the lord mayor said to the jury, ‘You have heard that he preached,
that he gathered a company of tumultuous people, and that they do
not only disobey the martial power, but the civil also.’ To which W.
Penn returned, ‘That is a great mistake; we did not make the tumult,
but they that interrupted us. The jury cannot be so ignorant, as to
think, that we met there with a design to disturb the civil peace,
since, first, we were by force of arms kept out of our lawful house,
and met as near it in the street as the soldiers would give leave.
And, secondly, because it was no new thing, nor with the circumstances
expressed in the indictment, but what was usual and customary with us.
It is very well known that we are a peaceable people, and cannot offer
violence to any man.’
The court now being resolved to send the prisoners to their jail, and
the jury to their chamber, Penn spoke as followeth: ‘The agreement of
twelve men is a verdict in law, and such an one being given by the
jury, I require the clerk of the peace to record it, as he will answer
it at his peril. And if the jury bring in another verdict contradictory
to this, I affirm they are perjured men in law.’ And looking upon the
jury, said, ‘You are Englishmen, mind your privilege; give not away
your right.’ To which E. Bushel, one of them, returned, ‘Nor will we
ever do it.’ Another of the jurymen pleaded indisposition of body, and
therefore desired to be dismissed; but the lord mayor said, ‘You are
as strong as any of them; starve then, and hold your principles.’ To
which the recorder added, ‘Gentlemen, you must be content with your
hard fate; let your patience overcome it; for the court is resolved to
have a verdict, and that before you can be dismissed.’ And though the
jurymen said, ‘We are agreed, we are agreed, we are agreed,’ yet the
court swore several persons, to keep the jury all night, without meat,
drink, fire, or any other accommodation; nay, they had not so much as
a chamber-pot, though desired. Thus force and violence prevailed. The
next day, though it was the first of the week, vulgarly called Sunday,
the court sat again; and the prisoners being brought to the bar, the
jury were called in, and their foreman was asked, ‘Is William Penn
guilty of the matter whereof he stands indicted, in manner and form
aforesaid, or not guilty?’ To which he answered as before, ‘William
Penn is guilty of speaking in Gracechurch-street.’ The lord mayor then
asking, ‘to an unlawful assembly?’ Edward Bushel answered, ‘No, my
lord, we give no other verdict than what we gave last night; we have no
other verdict to give.’ ‘You are,’ returned the lord mayor, ‘a factious
fellow: I will take a course with you.’ ‘I have,’ said Bushel, ‘done
according to my conscience.’ This so displeased the mayor, that he
said, ‘That conscience of yours would cut my throat; but I will cut
yours so soon as I can.’ To which the recorder added, ‘He has inspired
the jury; he has the spirit of divination; methinks I feel him: I will
have a positive verdict, or you shall starve for it.’
Then W. Penn said, ‘I desire to ask the recorder one question: do you
allow of the verdict given of W. Mead?’ to which the recorder answered,
‘It cannot be a verdict, because you are indicted for a conspiracy; and
one being found not guilty, and not the other, it cannot be a verdict.’
This made Penn say, ‘If not guilty be not a verdict, then you make of
the jury and Magna Charta but a mere nose-of-wax.’ ‘How!’ asked W. Mead
then, ‘Is not guilty no verdict?’ ‘No,’ said the recorder, ‘It is no
verdict.’ To which Penn replied, ‘I affirm that the consent of a jury
is a verdict in law; and if W. Mead be not guilty, it consequently
follows, that I am clear, since you have indicted us of conspiracy, and
I could not possibly conspire alone.’ After this, the court spoke to
the jury, and caused them to go up again, if possible to extort another
verdict from them. Then the jury being called, and asked by the clerk,
‘What say you? is William Penn guilty of the matter whereof he stands
indicted, in manner and form aforesaid, or not guilty?’ The foreman
answered, ‘Guilty of speaking in Gracechurch-street.’ To which the
recorder returned, ‘What is this to the purpose? I say I will have a
verdict.’ And speaking to E. Bushel, said, ‘You are a factious fellow,
I will set a mark upon you; and whilst I have any thing to do in the
city, I will have an eye upon you.’ To this the mayor added, ‘Have you
no more wit than to be led by such a pitiful fellow? I will cut his
nose.’
Thus the court endeavoured to baffle the jury; and therefore it was not
without very good reason that W. Penn said, ‘It is intolerable that my
jury should be thus menaced: is this according to the fundamental laws?
are not they my proper judges by the great charter of England? what
hope is there of ever having justice done, when juries are threatened,
and their verdict is rejected? I am concerned to speak, and grieved to
see such arbitrary proceedings. Did not the lieutenant of the tower
render one of them worse than a felon. And do you not plainly seek to
condemn such for factious fellows, who answer not your ends? unhappy
are those juries, who are threatened to be fined, starved, and ruined,
if they give not in their verdicts contrary to their consciences.’
These plain expressions so troubled the recorder, that he said to the
lord mayor, ‘My lord, you must take a course with this fellow.’ And
then the mayor cried, ‘Stop his mouth; jailer, bring fetters, and
stake him to the ground.’ To which W. Penn said, ‘Do your pleasure;
I matter not your fetters.’ The recorder then ventured to say, ‘Till
now I never understood the reason of the policy and prudence of the
Spaniards in suffering the Inquisition among them. And certainly it
never will be well with us, till something like the Spanish Inquisition
be in England.’ The jury being required to find another verdict, and
they saying they could give no other, the recorder grew so angry, that
he said, ‘Gentlemen, we shall not be at this pass always with you; you
will find the next sessions of parliament there will be a law made,
that those that will not conform, shall not have the protection of the
law. Your verdict is nothing, you play upon the court. I say, you shall
go together, and bring in another verdict, or you shall starve, and I
will have you carted about the city, as in Edward the third’s time.’
The jury refusing to give in another verdict, since they had all agreed
to that which they had given, and showing themselves unwilling to go up
again, the lord mayor bid the sheriff to make them go. The sheriff then
coming off his seat, said, ‘Come, gentlemen, you must go up; you see I
am commanded to make you go.’ Upon which the jury went up, and several
were sworn to keep them without accommodation as aforesaid, till they
brought in their verdict: and the prisoners were remanded to Newgate,
where they remaining till next morning were then brought to the court
again: and being set to the bar, and the jury called, and asked, ‘Is
William Penn guilty of the matter whereof he stands indicted in manner
and form, &c. or not guilty?’ the foreman answered, ‘You have there
read in writing already our verdict, and our hands subscribed.’ Now
the clerk who had that paper, was by the recorder stopped from reading
it; and it was said by the court, that paper was no verdict. Then the
clerk asked, ‘How say you? Is William Penn guilty, &c. or not guilty?’
to which the foreman answered, ‘Not guilty.’ The same question being
put concerning W. Mead, the foreman answered likewise, ‘Not guilty.’
The jury then being asked by the clerk, whether they said so all, they
answered, ‘We do so.’ The bench still unsatisfied, commanded that
every person should distinctly answer to their names, and give in
their verdict, which they unanimously did, in saying, ‘Not guilty.’
The recorder, who could not hear this, said, ‘I am sorry, gentlemen,
you have followed your own judgments and opinions, rather than the
good and wholesome advice which was given you. God keep my life out of
your hands: but for this the court fines you forty marks a man, and
imprisonment till paid.’
W. Penn then stepping up towards the bench, said, ‘I demand my liberty,
being freed by the jury.’ ‘No,’ said the lord mayor, ‘you are in for
your fines.’ ‘Fines!’ returned Penn, ‘for what?’ ‘For contempt of the
court,’ said the lord mayor. ‘I ask,’ replied Penn, ‘if it be according
to the fundamental laws of England, that any Englishman should be
fined or amerced, but by the judgment of his peers or jury? since it
expressly contradicts the 14th and 29th chapters of the great charter
of England, which say, ’No freeman ought to be amerced but by the
oath of good and lawful men of the vicinage.‘ Instead of answering
to this question, the recorder cried, ’take him away, take him away;
take him out of the court.‘ On which W. Penn said, ’I can never urge
the fundamental laws of England, but you cry, take him away, take him
away. But it is no wonder, since the Spanish Inquisition hath so great
a place in the recorder’s heart. God Almighty, who is just, will judge
you for all these things.’ W. Penn was not suffered to speak any more,
but he and W. Mead were hauled to the bail-dock, and from thence sent
to Newgate, and so were their jury. How they came at length to be
freed, I do not know.
The trial was afterwards published in print more at large than is set
down here, and an appendix subjoined to it; in which are showed not
only the invalidity of the evidence, but also the absurdity of the
indictment, and the illegal proceedings of the court; and from the
great charter, that they had been dealt with contrary to law. The
case of the lord chief justice Keeling is also mentioned, who having
put restraints upon juries, a committee of parliament, the 11th of
December, 1667, came to this resolution, ‘That his proceedings were
innovations, in the trial of men for their lives and liberties; and
that he had used an arbitrary and illegal power, which was of dangerous
consequence to the lives and liberties of the people of England, and
tended to the introducing an arbitrary government. Moreover, that in
the place of judicature he had undervalued, vilified and condemned
Magna Charta. And therefore, that he should be brought to trial, in
order to condign punishment, in such manner as the house shall judge
most fit and requisite.’ Two days after, viz. _Die veneris_, the
13th of December, it was resolved, that the precedents and practice
of fining or imprisoning jurors for verdicts is illegal. The book
containing the fore-mentioned trial of W. Penn and W. Mead was
reprinted I think more than once; for it came to be much in request,
because the liberties of the people were therein well defended, and
arbitrary power controlled. The title of it was, The People’s Ancient
and Just Liberties asserted; and underneath was added this well known
verse of Juvenal,
_Sic volo, sic jubeo; stat pro ratione voluntas._
This matter was more circumstantially treated of in a book in print,
by Thomas Rudyard a lawyer, who showed therein at large the right of
juries, and the unlawfulness of the proceedings then in vogue; which
he made appear plainly, both from law, and by citations from the books
of eminent lawyers. And having sometimes vigorously pleaded the cause
of the oppressed, he also became the object of persecuting fury, which
could not endure his faithful defending of the innocent. And therefore
this summer the magistrates of London issued out a warrant to break
open his house in the dead of the night, in order to apprehend him;
and this warrant was executed by the soldiers of one captain Holford;
and the next day he was sent to Newgate by a mittimus under the hands
and seals of the lord mayor Samuel Starling, William Peak, Robert
Hanson, and several others, under pretence, that he stirred up persons
to disobedience of the laws, and abetted and encouraged such as met in
unlawful and seditious conventicles, contrary to the late act. But his
case being brought before the justices of the court of Common Pleas, at
Westminster, by an _habeas corpus_, that court, after solemn debate,
gave their judgment, that Thomas Rudyard was unjustly imprisoned, and
unjustly detained. And so he was set at liberty. But the lord mayor
Samuel Starling fretting at this discharge, found out new stratagems
to compass his ends upon him. For an indictment was formed against him
for having hindered due course of law against one Samuel Allingbridge.
But Rudyard so well defended himself, that he was acquitted; which so
incensed the lord mayor, that not long after he was again committed to
Newgate, on a religious account, viz. for having been in the meeting
at Whitehart-court in Gracechurch-street. The proceedings against him
and others on that account were no less arbitrary than those against
W. Penn and W. Mead, already mentioned, and therefore Rudyard exposed
his and their trials in print; and seeing he understood the law, he
was the more able to show the unjustness of these proceedings, and how
inconsistent such prosecutions were with the laws of the land.
But to avoid prolixity I shall relate but little of them, since many
things occur therein, which have been mentioned already in other cases.
How the recorder Howel was inclined in respect to religion, may be
deduced from what hath been said already of his panegyric upon the
Spanish Inquisition. And to Rudyard and his fellow-prisoners, he gave
no obscure evidence what religion he preferred; for they saying, that
they were always quiet and peaceable in their assemblies, and that
the laws against riots were never intended against them, but popish,
or such like disturbers of the peace. The recorder returned, that the
Papists were better subjects to the king, than they were; and that
they were a stubborn and dangerous people, and must either be brought
under, or there was no safe living by them. The prisoners offering to
vindicate themselves from these odious and foul aspersions, were not
suffered to say any thing in their own defence; but instead of hearing
them, they were by order of the lord mayor and the recorder thrust into
the bail-dock, and treated almost at the same rate as W. Penn and W.
Mead had been before.
But violence prevailed now; and the recorder, because of his outrageous
behaviour against the Quakers, was so much in favour of the court of
justice, that alderman Jo. Robinson did not stick to tell them, that
the recorder deserved an hundred pounds for his service done at the Old
Bailey, the last sessions. And his proposal so took, that the court
consented to pay him for the said service an hundred pounds, by the
chamberlain of London. And since this was so well known to T. Rudyard,
that in a book he published, he named the date of the said order, viz.
the 8th of October, 1670: and that other orders had been given for
two hundred pounds more to him, within eight months last past; he, to
reprehend such doings in a satirical way, called them, ‘an excellent
way to ease the treasury of being over-burdened with orphans’ money,’
by which sinister ends, and dispositions of its cash, the chamber was
so deeply in debt, that it was almost incredible.
Now, since Rudyard as a lawyer, had a more full knowledge of these
unlawful proceedings against him and his friends, than many others, he
composed a treatise of those prosecutions, which he called the Second
Part of the People’s Ancient and Just Liberties asserted. And true
lovers of their country were pleased with it: for that party which
countenanced popery, and therefore endeavoured to violate the people’s
rights, strove to get the upper hand.
Persecution was now very hot and fierce all over the country, because
a door was opened for all base and wicked fellows to get booty by
informing; for by the act against meetings, which, though religious,
were branded with the name of seditious, the informer, was to have a
third part of the imposed fine. This set on many vile persons, and
among these sometimes thieves and infamous fellows, to render any
comings together of Quakers, though it was but a visit or a burial, the
name of a meeting, and to swear that a meeting had been kept there.
Nay, sometimes they swore only by guess, that in such a place a meeting
had been kept, though the witnesses had not seen it, as was requisite
by law. And this informing came so much in vogue, that some magistrates
themselves turned informers.
---- _Quid non mortalia pectora cogis
Auri sacra fames!_[40]
[40] What will not the cursed thirst of gold force mankind to perform!
I might write a large volume of these abominable deeds, if I could find
leisure for it; yet now and then I will mention a few instances, by
which the reader may make a conjecture of the rest.
This year at Alford in Somersetshire, in the month called August,
the corpse of one Samuel Clothier was buried, and though in the
burying-place all were silent, yet the justice, Robert Hunt, fined some
that had been at the burial, for having assisted at this pretended
meeting.
In Nottingham it happened in the latter end of this year, that the
justice, Penniston Whaley, who had fined many of those called Quakers,
for frequenting their religious meetings, encouraged the people at
the sessions to persecute the Quakers without any pity, saying to
them, ‘Harden your hearts against them; for the act of the 35th of
queen Elizabeth, is not made against the Papists, since the church
of Rome is a true church, as well as any other church; but these
Quakers are erroneous and seditious persons.’ By these words one may
easily judge to what religion this justice of peace was inclined; but
such dissemblers feigned to the Protestants, that so they might hear
honourable offices. I pass by unmentioned many persons, who by beating,
pushing, and trampling, were grievously abused in their meetings, to
that degree, that some not long survived the violence committed on
them, and felt the painfulness or smart of it till death.
This year about midsummer, Thomas Budd deceased at Ivelchester in
Somersetshire, after having been prisoner about eight years and a half,
because for conscience-sake he could not swear. Some hours before his
death, he was heard to say, that he had renewed his covenant with God,
and was well satisfied in it; and that he believed God would sustain
him by the right hand of his justice; and that he rejoiced and thanked
God that all his children walked in the way of the Lord.
At Warborough in Oxfordshire, those called Quakers were also most
grievously abused in their religious meetings, and even aged women not
spared; which often caused the cry of innocent children to go up to
heaven, when they saw their mothers thus ill treated. For magistrates
themselves to break their canes to pieces on those that were met
together, was but an ordinary thing; and then sometimes other sticks
were made use of: often also women were stripped of their upper
garments; and this accompanied with the spoil of goods. That the
persecutors were thus enraged was not strange, when we consider that
some were stirred up to it by their teachers; an instance of which was
given by Robert Priest of the same place, who once said in his sermon,
that the king’s laws, though they were contrary to the law of God, yet
ought to be obeyed. Quite otherwise was the doctrine of the apostle
Peter and John, when they said to the Jewish council, ‘Judge ye whether
it be right in the sight of God, to hearken unto you more than unto
God.’
In Northamptonshire, where persecution was also very hot, the bishop of
Peterborough said publicly in the steeple-house, after he had commanded
the officers to put in execution the last act against seditious
meetings, ‘Against all fanatics it hath done its business, except the
Quakers; but when the parliament sits again, a stronger law will be
made, not only to take away their lands and goods, but also to sell
them for bond slaves.’ Thus the churchmen blew the fire of persecution.
At York also, the spoiling of goods was fiercely driven on by alderman
Richardson; and even boys and girls, that were under sixteen years of
age, and therefore not subject to the penalty of the law, were fined;
and when the constables showed themselves unwilling to assist in the
robbery, they were snarled at, and one persecuted for not performing
his duty, because he had refused to take away a man’s cloak. But if I
should mention the ill-usage committed in all counties and places, when
should I come to a conclusion!
Thomas Green, a grave man, with whom I have been very familiarly
acquainted, being in prayer at a meeting at Sawbridgworth in
Hertfordshire, was pulled off his knees, and dragged out; and being
brought before the justices Robert Joslin and Humphrey Gore, they fined
him twenty pounds, for speaking or preaching at the said meeting;
and granted a warrant to John Smith and Paul Thomson, constables, to
distrain; upon which they went into the said Thomas Green’s shop, in
Royston, and took away as much goods as were worth fifty pounds. But
this did not quench his zeal; for like a true and faithful pastor, he
continued to feed the flock, and to edify the church with his gift: in
which he was very serviceable.
At another time, the justices Peter Soames and Thomas Mead, gave a
warrant to distrain twenty pounds worth of goods from the said Thomas
Green, for preaching at a meeting in Upper Chissel in Essex. And the
officers going to Thomas Green’s shop, took all they could get, leaving
nothing in the shop but a skein of thread, which was fallen on the
ground, and not observed by them.
Theophilus Green suffered also great spoil of goods: for having
preached in a meeting at Kingston-upon-Thames, he was put into the
stocks for some hours, and fined twenty pounds. And having preached the
three next first-days of the week at Wadsworth, was for each fined at
the same rate.
The week following, being at Uxbridge, and visiting some poor children
of his friends, whose father and mother died shortly one after another,
he took two of them as his own, and looked after the disposing of the
rest. And staying there till the first day of the week, he went to the
meeting, and exhorted his friends to keep their meetings in the name of
Jesus: at the speaking of which words the constable and informer came
in, and carried him away to justice Ralph Hawtrey, who fined him twenty
pounds, and sent him prisoner to Newgate in London, with a mittimus;
wherein he charged him, that he had exhorted the people to keep their
meetings in the name of Jesus, notwithstanding the laws of men to the
contrary. Warrants being issued forth to make distress for the above
mentioned fines, which amounted to one hundred pounds, five shillings,
they came and opened his doors, and took away all his goods they found,
leaving him neither bed nor stool. And after he had been kept prisoner
three months, he with seven more was brought to the session’s-house at
Hicks’s Hall, and the oaths of allegiance and supremacy were tendered
to them. To which his plea was, ‘As an Englishman, I ought either to be
acquitted or condemned, for the cause for which I was committed, before
I should answer to any other matter or cause. Besides, I look upon
myself to be illegally committed, as being fined and committed for the
same fact.’ But they told him, he must answer whether he would swear
or no, and then he should be heard. But continuing to refuse swearing,
he was remanded to prison with the rest; and afterwards being sent for
again, and still unwilling to break Christ’s command, not to swear at
all, the sentence of premunire was read against him and his fellow
prisoners, and so they continued in jail above two years, till they
were discharged by an act of grace from the king.
The meetings of those called Quakers were miserably disturbed in
Horslydown in the county of Surry. On the 25th of September several
musketeers came into the meeting-house, and hauling those that were
met together in the street, the troopers came riding amongst them, and
beat and abused them violently, pushing them with their carbines, which
the others did with the butt-ends of their muskets, to that degree,
that above twenty persons were wounded and sorely bruised; nay, so
desperately wicked were these mischievous fellows, that a party of
horse sought to ride over these harmless people; but the horses, more
merciful than the riders, and not going forward, they turned them, and
by curbing and reigning them backward, strove to do what mischief they
could. On the 2d of October these peaceable people being kept out of
their meeting-place, there came a party of foot, and a party of horse,
and abused them no less violently than the week before; insomuch that
with beating and knocking they broke several of their muskets and
pikes, and one carbine, and above thirty persons were so sorely wounded
and bruised, that their blood was spilt in the streets.
On the 9th of the said month the soldiers, both horse and foot, came
again to the meeting at the aforesaid place, and one of them having
a shovel, threw the dirt and mire from the channels, on both men and
women; and after him the horse and foot came, and fell upon them,
striking and knocking down, without respect to age or sex, until they
drew blood from many; and when some of the inhabitants in pity took
them into their houses, and saved their lives, the soldiers forced
open the doors, and hauled them into the street again, and plucked off
their hats, that they might strike on their bare heads; insomuch that
many had their heads grievously broken. Some troopers also tore the
women’s clothes off their backs, and hauled them through the mire by
their horse sides; and some of the foot soldier’s put their hands in
a most shameful manner under the women’s coats: nay, a soldier twice
struck a woman that was big with child, with his musket on the belly,
and once on the breast, whilst another flung dirt in her face: so that
she miscarried. And above fifty persons were this day sorely wounded
and bruised. The 16th of the said month these conscientious people
meeting again to perform their worship to God, a great party of horse
and foot came, and fell to beating them so violently, as if they would
have killed all on the spot; so that the blood ran down about the ears
of many; and one of the constables endeavouring to stop the wicked crew
from shedding more blood, they fell upon him also, and broke his head;
and when they were rebuked for their cruel dealing, some said, ‘If
you knew what orders we have, you would say we dealt mercifully with
you.’ And being asked, ‘How can ye deal thus with a people who make no
resistance nor opposition;’ they answered, ‘We had rather, and it would
be better for us, if ye did resist and oppose.’ From which it appeared
plainly, that this mischief was done to provoke opposition, that they
might have imbrued their hands in the blood of these sufferers, and so
have had their lives and goods for a prey. It was therefore thought
convenient to acquaint the king and his counsel with this barbarous
cruelty; which had such effect, that some stop was made to these
excessive cruelties, though their abuses did not altogether cease.
About this time it happened that Solomon Eccles came to Cork in
Ireland, and went into the cathedral, where the priest, Benjamin
Cross, preached in a surplice; and having formerly been a Presbyterian
preacher in Dorsetshire in England, had there said, that he had rather
go to a stake and be burned, than to put on a surplice. This priest,
(now become a turn-coat for gain,) having finished his sermon and
concluded with a prayer, Solomon Eccles said, that the prayer of the
wicked was an abomination to the Lord. And knowing the deceitfulness of
the said priest, and his being an apostate, he added, ‘What shall be
done to the man that makes shipwreck of a good conscience?’ For this
he was taken, and by the mayor committed to prison, where being kept
ten days, he was accused as a vagabond, and without any examination,
whipped along the streets of Cork, from North-Gate to South-Gate, and
received about ninety stripes, and then was expelled. We have seen
heretofore instances of his great zeal; and though in some respect he
might by it have been transported a little too far, yet he gave proofs
of a sincere heart; for having said some years after to one John Story,
who launched out into great haughtiness and arrogancy, that it was
the word of the Lord that he should die that year, (which by somebody
to set a gloss upon it, was interpreted to be meant of the spiritual
death,) yet Eccles himself said afterwards, both at London and Bristol,
and elsewhere, that he had not spoken this according to the counsel
of the Lord; but that it had been in his own will, and from a forward
mind; and that he had felt the anger of the Lord, because he had called
these his own words the word of the Lord; which he really repented of.
1671.
In the beginning of the year 1671, G. Fox was at London, and though by
reason of a heavy sickness, of which he began to recover, he continued
still weak, yet he did not omit preaching; and about this time he made
the following prayer to the Lord, which he put in writing:
‘O Lord God Almighty! prosper Truth, and preserve justice and
equity in the land, and bring down all injustice and iniquity,
oppression and falsehood, and cruelty, and unmercifulness in the
land, that mercy and righteousness may flourish.
‘And, O Lord God! establish and set up verity, and preserve it in
the land: and bring down in the land all debauchery, and vice,
and whoredoms, and fornication; and this raping spirit, which
causeth and leadeth people to have no esteem of thee, O God! nor
their souls or bodies, nor of Christianity, modesty, or humanity.
‘And, O Lord! put it in the magistrates’ hearts, to bring down
all this ungodliness, and violence, and cruelty, profaneness,
cursing and swearing: and to put down all these whore-houses
and play-houses, which do corrupt youth and people, and lead
them from the kingdom of God, where no unclean thing can enter,
neither shall come; but such works lead people to hell. And the
Lord in mercy bring down all these things in the nation to stop
thy wrath, O God, from coming on the land.
This Prayer was wrote the 17th day,
at Night, of the 2d Month, 1671.