Christison and his son arrived in good time when the court again sat, on
the 3rd of September. The officers having taken off the hats of the
prisoners as they entered, the Lord Mayor abused them for so doing, and
bade them put them on again. He then abused the prisoners for wearing
their hats, fining them forty marks each for contempt of court. The
indictment was again read. It was to the effect that William Penn and
William Mead, with other persons, had assembled on the 15th day of
August for the purpose of creating a disturbance, according to an
agreement between the two; and that William Penn, supported by William
Mead, had preached to the people assembled, whereby a great concourse of
people remained, in contempt of the king and his law, creating a
disturbance of his peace, to the great terror of many of his liege
people and subjects.
William Penn, who ably defended himself, proved that the day when he had
gone to Gracechurch Street was the fourteenth, and not the fifteenth;
that he did not preach to the people; that he had not agreed to meet
William Mead there; that William Mead had not spoken to him. Mead also
proved that he had not preached; that he had not abetted Penn, and that
no riot had taken place.
Contrary to the evidence, the Recorder Jefferies insisted that the
prisoners should be brought in "guilty." The jury, however, in spite of
the threats held out to them by the Lord Mayor and the Recorder and
others, would not agree upon a verdict. The most determined to give an
honest one was Master Edward Bushel, whose name deserves to be recorded.
On again being compelled to retire, they were absent for some time.
When they once more returned, the foreman announced that their verdict
was "Guilty of speaking in Gracechurch Street." Again every effort was
made to induce them to pronounce a different verdict. A third time they
were ordered to retire. Again, in writing, they handed in their
verdict, finding William Penn "Guilty of speaking to an assembly in
Gracechurch Street," and acquitting William Mead.
The baffled and beaten bench, now losing temper, ordered the jury to be
locked up, and the prisoners to be taken back to Newgate. Penn, now
addressing them, required the clerk of the peace to record their
verdict. "If, after this," he exclaimed, "the jury bring in a different
verdict to this, I affirm that they are perjured men. You are
Englishmen," he said, turning to the jurors. "Remember your privileges.
Give not away your rights!"
The following day was Sunday. They were called up, however, and the
clerk again inquired if they were agreed. The foreman replied as
before, "Guilty of speaking to an assembly in Gracechurch Street."
"To an unlawful assembly?" exclaimed the Lord Mayor.
"No, my lord," answered the noble Master Bushel. "We give no other
verdict than we gave last night."
In vain the Lord Mayor and the Recorder Jefferies threatened as before;
the Lord Mayor shouting out, "Gaoler, bring fetters, and shake this
pestilent fellow to the ground!"
"Do your will," answered Penn; "I care not for your fetters!"
The Recorder Jefferies now cried out, "By my troth, I could never before
understand why the Spaniards suffered the Inquisition among them; and,
to my mind, it will never be well with us in England till we have among
us something like the Inquisition."
"Boy," whispered Christison to his son, "you heard those words. The
knave has a good idea of his master's notions and designs. If the
Inquisition,--and I know something of it,--is ever established in this
fair England of ours, it must either be quickly driven out again, or our
country will be no fit place for honest men."
Once more the jury were locked up, without food, fire, or water; but
they were Englishmen to the backbone, and were ready to die in the cause
of civil freedom, rather than play traitors to their own convictions.
On Monday the court again sat. Each juror was separately questioned,
and one and all pronounced "Not guilty." The Recorder on this fined
them forty marks a man, and imprisonment in Newgate till the fines were
paid. Penn and Mead were fined in the same way, the Recorder crying
out, "Put him out of court! Take him away!"
"`Take him away!'" exclaimed Penn. "Whenever I urge the fundamental
laws of England, `Take him away!' is their answer; but no wonder, since
the Spanish Inquisition sits so near the Recorder's heart."
Both prisoners and jurors were carried off to Newgate, refusing to pay
the fines: Penn and Mead as a case of conscience; while Bushel advised
his fellow-jurors to dispute the matter. The jurors were committed to
prison on the 5th of September, and it was not till the 9th of November
that the trial came on. Learned counsel were engaged for their defence;
Newdegate, one of them, arguing that the judges may try to open the eyes
of the jurors, but not to "lead them by the nose." Christison and his
son were present. "I had hoped to spend some years in my native land,
and renew the friendship I formed in my youth," observed the former;
"but I tell thee, Wenlock, if this trial goes against those twelve
honest men, I will forswear my country, and go and seek thy fortune and
mine in some other land, where knaves do not, as here, `rule the
roost.'" When, however, the twelve judges gave an almost unanimous
verdict in favour of the jurymen, Christison agreed that, after all,
there were more honest men in the country than he had feared was the
case.
To return, however, to William Penn and Mead. They were remanded to
Newgate, refusing to pay the fines imposed on them, as a matter of
conscience. Without difficulty, Christison and Wenlock obtained
admittance to them. "Truly, friends, you are hardly dealt with," said
the former, as he shook hands. "We had tyrannical proceedings enough in
the time of the first Charles, but it seems to me that we are even worse
off now. I would that I could collect a band of honest fellows and
rescue you out of this vile den."
"I pray thee, be silent, dear friend," said Mead. "We are here for
conscience sake; and our consciences being right towards God, would
support us under far greater trial."
"Well, well, I suppose you are right," answered Christison; "but it
sorely troubles me to see you here. I came back to England,
understanding that the country was enjoying rest, and prospering under
the new reign; but it seems to me that the rest is more that of wearied
sleep than prosperous tranquillity, and that ere long the people will
revive, and will once more draw the sword to reassert their rights."
"I pray not," said Mead; "but I do pray that those principles which I
have unfolded to thee, old friend, may be promulgated throughout the
length and breadth of England; as it is through them, and them only,
that the country can obtain true rest, and prosper as a Christian people
would desire."
Two days after this, the prisoners were pacing their cell, talking
earnestly on matters seldom discussed within prison walls, when the
turnkey entered.
"Gentlemen," he said, "I bring you news such as may perhaps be
satisfactory. Your fines have been paid, and you are at liberty to
depart from hence. I trust you will not forget the attention and
courtesy with which I have treated you!"
"Verily, knave!" exclaimed Mead, laughing as Quakers were not wont to
laugh, "thou ought to go to Court and push thy fortune there. I would
willingly pay thee for all the attention thou hast shown us, but I fear
thou wouldst not be satisfied with the payment. If I give thee more
than thy deserts, thou wilt be better pleased. Here, take this groat.
Art thou satisfied?"
The turnkey made a wry face, and Mead followed Penn, who had hurried
out, anxious to be free from the prison. On the outside they met
Christison and Wenlock, with several other friends, waiting for them.
Penn hastened to his lodgings to change his dress, requesting Mead to
order horses directly, that he might proceed down to his father.
"Come," said Mead to his old comrade; "many days have passed since I
gave thee an invitation to my abode; but as I have not since then been a
free agent, I could not have received thee as I desired."