1657.

In the parliament which Cromwell had called, a law was made whereby Charles Stuart’s title of king was rejected, and the year 1657 being come, subsidies were granted to Cromwell, and there was a contrivance underhand to make him king, of which, though he expressed his dislike, yet he seemed not altogether averse to it; for speaking once with general Fleetwood, and colonel Desborough, he began to droll with them about the word monarch, and said, it was but a feather in a man’s cap; and therefore he wondered that men would not please the children, and permit them to enjoy their rattle. But they not obscurely signified to him, that this business did displease them; and told him, that those who put him upon it, were no enemies to Charles Stuart; and that if he accepted of it, he would infallibly draw ruin upon himself. Now, though he would not openly oppose them, yet he did not stick to tell them, they were a couple of scrupulous fellows, and so left them. It is related also, that major-general Lambert told Cromwell, that if he accepted the crown, he could not assure the army to him. The design thus miscarrying, and Cromwell having now seen that the matter would not go so cleverly, he refused the title of king; and the parliament confirming him in his title of protector, it was agreed that the parliament henceforth should consist of a lower house, and another house; and that the protector should name a successor in the government. Now he was solemnly vested in his authority, a throne for that purpose being erected in Westminster Hall, and he being clothed in a purple robe lined with ermines, and the sceptre and sword being presented him, took the oath to rule faithfully. Cromwell having called a new parliament, it consisted of two houses, viz. a house of commons, and another house as they called it. And many excluded members having taken place again in the house of commons, it was believed that more than an hundred of the members were enemies to Cromwell; and the authority of the upper house began to be called in question by some, because it was filled up with many of his creatures, some of them of low rank. And this matter was so carried on in the house of commons, that Cromwell dissolved the parliament; and he also made major-general Lambert surrender his commission.

Edward Burrough, who often wrote to Cromwell, having heard of the design of making him king, wrote a letter to him, wherein I find, that after having told the protector, that he had had many warnings from the Lord, he thus speaks to him:

That which E. Burrough mentions in the forepart of this letter, of the grievous burdens and oppressions laid upon the just, seems chiefly to regard the tithes which the priests extorted from the Quakers, so that many thereby were reduced to poverty; and the heinousness of this was not unknown to Cromwell; for when he was about to give battle to his enemies, near Dunbar in Scotland, he said in his prayer to God, that if the Lord would be pleased to deliver him at that time, he would take off that great oppression of tithes. But this promise he never performed, but suffered himself to be swayed by the flatteries of his teachers; and therefore it was not without great cause that E. Burrough laid this grievous oppression before him. A copy of the said letter, of which but a part is inserted here, to shun prolixity, was given into the hands of Oliver Cromwell, then protector, in the Third month of this year. In the next month E. Burrough spoke with him about it, and Cromwell told him in effect that all persecution and cruelty was against his mind, and said that he was not guilty of those persecutions acted unjustly upon Burrough’s friends. This made E. Burrough write again to him, and bid him,

This letter was delivered to O. Cromwell, in the Fourth month, and in the month following E. Burrough wrote again to him, that the good name PROTECTOR, by the great oppression, acted in his name, was abused and subverted; and that instead of protection by it, great injustice was acted under it, and covered with it. Besides, that several justices of the peace, and other officers, in trust under him, when they had owned the people called Quakers, had been cast out of their places; though they had not denied to serve him and the commonwealth, neither had unfaithfulness to their trust been proved against them.

In September, E. Burrough wrote another letter to Cromwell, wherein he signified to him, that he had many enemies, some of which endeavoured to destroy him by any means, without regarding the danger that might be in the attempt. And that he going on in oppressing through tyranny, or suffering it, perhaps the Lord might raise up the wicked to be a plague to wickedness, and suffer the oppressors to overthrow oppressions. That there were others, viz. the Fifth Monarchy men, who, though not so bad as the former, yet secretly murmured against him, and envied him, not being friends to his government, some of them being cast out and rejected, without just cause, as they supposed. ‘And as to us, how can we, (said he,) mention thee in our prayers to God, except it be to be delivered from thee, who are daily unjustly sufferers by thee, or because of thee? Or how can we be friends to that government, under which we daily suffer such hard and cruel things, as the loss of our liberty and estates, and are in danger of life also?’

It was about the beginning of this year, that Christopher Birkhead came to Zealand, having been before at Rochelle, in France, where, having spoken and written against the popish religion, he was imprisoned and examined by the bishop: and some would have had him burnt, but the criminal judge absolved him. It was in the latter end of the month called February, when he came to Middleburgh, in Zealand; and going to the English congregation there, after the preacher, William Spanke, had preached about three quarters of an hour, he said, ‘Friends, the apostle saith, that we may all prophesy, one by one; that two or three prophets may speak, and the others judge; and if any thing be revealed to another that sitteth by, let the first hold his peace.’ This speaking caused a great stir in the congregation, and the rather, because he stood in the place where the women used to sit: so he was apprehended by order of the magistrates, and examined in the presence of some of the public preachers. When he was asked what his name was? He answered, that his name, according to the flesh, was Christopher Birkhead. Then it was asked him, whether he had yet another name? And his answer was, ‘Yes, written in the Lamb’s book of life.’ Being inquired what that name was, he made answer, ‘None knows it but he that hath it.’ To which was said, ‘Why, if you have it, tell it us.’ ‘No,’ replied he, ‘read it, if ye have seen the book of the Lamb opened: it is forbidden me to tell it.’ Then the English teacher, Spanke, asked whether he had seen the book of the Lamb opened? And he answered, ‘Yea.’ The next question was, whether he had opened it? ‘No,’ said Birkhead, ‘it was the Lamb that did it.’ Then Spanke asked, whether his name in the book of the Lamb was not Jesus. ‘No,’ quoth Birkhead, ‘that is the name of the Lamb.’ More other questions to ensnare him, Spanke put to him; and being examined by the magistrates concerning the place of his abode, his calling or trade, &c. Spanke was asked, what he had to say against him? Who then related what had happened in the congregation. Concerning this, several questions were asked of Birkhead, but since he understood not Dutch, and the French tongue but imperfectly, he complained that he could not fully answer for himself so as he wished. He was asked also, whether any body else came along with him? And he was charged to speak the truth. To which he said, that God did not permit him to lie. One of the preachers then said that all men were liars. To this Birkhead replied, that though all men were liars, yet he knew a deliverance from lying. Then Spanke bid him, not to add to the Scriptures: for Birkhead had accused him a little before, that he had added his meaning to the Scriptures. And it being strongly asserted, that all men were liars, Birkhead took occasion from thence, to ask Spanke whether he was a liar? Who, without hesitation, answering, ‘Yes,’ Birkhead bluntly told him, ‘Then thou art of thy father the devil.’ Now the matter of J. Nayler having caused strange reports of the Quakers every where, and Birkhead, for want of the language, not being able to answer so plainly every objection, his offence, without question, was aggravated the more; and the conclusion was, that he was sentenced to be confined in the house of correction. But after some time he was released, at the intercession of the Heer Newport, ambassador of the States General in England.

In this year it was, I think, that one George Baily coming into France, was taken into custody, and died in prison there; he having zealously testified against popery, and spoken boldly against worshipping of images.

William Ames returning this year to Amsterdam, and one Humble Thatcher, (whom I could never learn to have been truly in communion with the Quakers,) coming with him, it caused some jealousy: for Ames, who formerly had been in military employment, was an extraordinary bold man; and about this time it seems, a paper was put on the door of the English meeting-house, though Ames declared he knew nothing of it, or who was the author. About this time also, the strange business of J. Nayler being noised abroad, by a book that was published in print at Amsterdam, and some other pamphlets, stuffed with several untruths, and abominable lies; it was not to be wondered at, that the magistrates fearing some mischief, sent for Ames and Thatcher to appear before them, and commanded them to depart the town within twenty four hours: but they being persuaded of their own innocency, did not obey this command. The next day appearing again before the magistrates, and not putting off their hats, it seems they were looked upon as such as did not own magistrates; (for this the Quakers stood charged with in public print, and were compared to the tumultuous crew of Anabaptists, or Fifth Monarchy men, at Munster, in the foregoing age:) and so they were kept in custody for some days, and then at night were led through the Regulars gate, and so banished out of the town. But W. Ames judging that he had committed no evil, came again the next day into the city, and passed the great market-place, called the dam. It is reported, that some of the magistrates seeing him out of the windows of the town-house, walking along the street, said, ‘Lo, there’s the Quaker; if we had a mind now to make martyrs, here would be an opportunity for it.’ But it seems not without reason, that it was looked upon to be most safe to wink at this; for though strange reports were spread up and down of the Quakers, yet there was no proof of their evil carriage here. Meanwhile Ames staid some time in town, and the doctrine he preached found a little entrance, even with some of the collegians.

It was about this time, that my parents, viz. Jacob Williamson Sewel, of Utrecht, free citizen and Surgeon at Amsterdam, and his wife, Judith Zinspenning, born in this town, both members of the Flemish Baptists church there, were convinced of the Truth preached by W. Ames; she having before had immediate openings, that if ever she would become a child of God, she must give heed to this light, which reproved for sin. They, with two or three more, were the first orthodox Quakers in Amsterdam; orthodox I say, because I very well remember what a strange and odd sort of people about that time, did flock to the Quakers in this country. But these whimsical people not being sincere in heart: but more inclined to novelties, than to true godliness; perceived in time that they were not regarded by them: and they were also contradicted by Ames and others; so that at length after many exorbitancies, they left the Quakers.

In the forepart of this year, William Caton came also to Amsterdam. Before he left England, he had had a meeting at the east side of Sussex, on the day called Shrove Tuesday, where there had never been any of his friends before. But the people being on that day more rude than ordinary, came up to the house with a drum, in such a desperate manner, as if they would have pulled the house down. Caton stepping out, asked what they wanted; they answered, Quakers; at which he told them he was one. And he spoke so plainly to them, and with so much power, that fear falling upon them, they withdrew with shame and confusion.

Not long after he went to London, and from thence to Holland; and being safely arrived at Rotterdam, he repaired to Amsterdam; where he came in due time to stop the unruliness of some froward spirits, among which one Anne Garghil, an English woman, was not one of the least: whose rudeness grew in time to that degree, that she would not suffer W. Ames to preach peaceably in the meeting, but laid violent hands on him; so that at length to be rid of her, he bade an English seaman that was present, to take her away, which was done accordingly: and how haughty she was, and continued, I well remember still. W. Caton procured also some books to be printed at Amsterdam, to prevent evil and malicious reports concerning the Quakers; and he went with W. Ames to Zutphen in Guelderland; where meeting with nothing but opposition, he returned to Amsterdam, and from thence by Leyden and the Hague, to Rotterdam; from which place he went to Zealand, where he wrote the book called ‘The Moderate Enquirer Resolved,’ both in Latin and English, which was afterwards translated indifferently into Dutch. After some stay, Caton returned again to England, and came to London, where the society of his friends was in a thriving condition, and many were added to the church.

In this city we left G. Fox: he wrote there several papers for the opening of the understandings of people, and for the edification of his friends. From thence he travelled into Kent, Sussex, and Surry; and coming to Basingstoke, though the people were rude there, yet he had a quiet meeting in the place: in the inn he had some trouble with the innkeeper, who was a drunkard. Afterwards he came to Portsmouth, Exeter, Bristol, and into Wales, where many came to him. At Brecknock, (where he was accompanied by Thomas Holmes, who, first of the Quakers in Wales, had preached the doctrine of the inward light; and by John-ap-John, who three years before had been sent by a priest out of Wales into the North, to inquire what kind of people the Quakers were;) he had a great meeting in the steeple-house yard, where was a priest, and one Walter Jenkin who had been a justice, and another justice. Here he preached so effectually, that many were convinced: and after the meeting, he went with Jenkin to the other justice’s house, who said to him, ‘You have this day given great satisfaction to the people, and answered all the objections that were in their minds.’ At Leominster he had a great meeting, where priest Tombs made some opposition, by saying, that the light G. Fox spoke of, was but a natural light; but G. Fox asserted the contrary, and said, that he had spoken of no other light than John bore witness to, viz. “The word which was in the beginning with God, and which word was God; and that was the true light which enlighteneth every man that cometh into the world.”

G. Fox coming from this place to Tenby, as he rode in the street, a justice of peace came out and desired him to alight, and to stay at his house, which he did; and on the First-day of the week had a meeting there, whither the mayor and his wife, and several others of the chief of the town came. John-ap-John, who was then with G. Fox, left the meeting, and went to the steeple-house, and was by the Governor cast into prison. The next morning the governor sent one of his officers to the justice’s house, to fetch G. Fox; which grieved the mayor and the justice, and so they went up to the Governor, and a while after G. Fox went with the officer, and coming in, said ‘Peace be unto this house;’ and before the Governor could examine him, he asked, why he had cast his friend into prison? and the governor answered, ‘For standing with his hat on in the church.’ ‘Why,’ resumed G. Fox, ‘had not the priest two caps on his head, a black one and a white one? And if the brim of the hat, which was but to defend from the weather, had been cut off, then my friend would have had but one cap,’ ‘These are frivolous things,’ said the governor: ‘Why then,’ said G. Fox, ‘dost thou cast my friend into prison for such frivolous things?’ Then the governor asked him, whether he owned election and reprobation? ‘Yes,’ said he, ‘and thou art in the reprobation.’ This so incensed the governor, that he told G. Fox, he would send him to prison, till he proved it. G. Fox not at all at a loss, said, ‘I will prove that quickly, if thou wilt but confess truth:’ and then he asked him, whether wrath, fury, and rage, and persecution, were not marks of reprobation? For he that was born of the flesh, persecuted him that was born of the spirit; and Christ and his apostles never persecuted nor imprisoned any. This speech of his so struck the governor, that he fairly confessed, that he had too much wrath, haste, and passion in him: which made G. Fox say, that Esau the first birth was up in him, not Jacob the second birth. By this the man was so reached, that he confessed to Truth, and inviting G. Fox to dinner with him, he set his friend at liberty. It was with great satisfaction that G. Fox departed the town; and in several other places of Wales he had some singular occurrences; and though the people were rude, yet some were convinced.

At length he came to Lancaster, where, at the inn, he met with colonel West, who was very glad to see him. Next he came to Swarthmore, where he wrote some epistles and other papers. After having staid there some days, he went to some other places in the North, and to Scotland. Here, travelling from town to town, he met with great opposition from some priests: for in an assembly, they had drawn up several articles, or curses, to be read in their steeple-houses, the first of which was, ‘cursed is he that saith every man hath a light within him sufficient to lead him to salvation: and let all the people say, Amen.’ An independent pastor preaching one day against the Quakers, and the light, and calling the light natural, cursed it, and so fell down as dead in his pulpit; the people carrying him out, and pouring strong waters into him, it brought him to life again; but he was mopish, and, as one of his hearers said, he never recovered his senses.

In October G. Fox came to Edinburgh, where he was summoned to appear before the council, who, though indifferently civil, yet told him, he must depart the nation of Scotland by that day seven-night: against which he not only spoke but wrote also. Whilst G. Fox was in Scotland, his friends there were brought to a great strait; for, being excommunicated by the Presbyterian teachers, charge was given, that none should buy or sell, nor eat nor drink with them. Hence it came to pass, that some having bought bread, or other victuals, of their neighbours, these frightened with the curses of their priests, did run, and fetch it from them again. But colonel Ashton, a justice of peace, put a stop to these proceedings, and being afterwards convinced of the Truth, had a meeting settled at his house, and declared the Truth, and lived and died in it.

G. Fox now travelled almost over all Scotland, and had in some places good opportunities to declare the gospel, being often heard with satisfaction by the English soldiers; but the Scotch generally gave little heed. He went also among the Highlanders, who were a mischievous people. Returning at length to Leith, the innkeeper told him, that the council had granted forth warrants to apprehend him, because he was not gone out of the nation after the seven days were expired, that they had ordered him to depart in. Some others told him the same, to whom he said, ‘What do you tell me of their warrants against me? If there were a cart load of them I do not heed them; for the Lord’s power is over them all.’ From Leith he went to Edinburgh again, and went to the inn where he had lodged before, and no man offered to meddle with him. Alexander Parker and Robert Widders being also there, he resolved to go with Parker to Johnston, out of which town some time before he had been led by soldiers; and he came into Johnston just as they were drawing up the bridges, the officers and soldiers never questioning him. And coming to captain Davenport’s house, from which he had been hauled before, he found there many officers, who lifting up their hands, wondered that he came again; but he told them, the Lord God hath sent him amongst them again. Then the Baptists sent him a letter by way of challenge, that they would discourse with him again the next day. And he sent them word, that he would meet them at a certain house, about half a mile out of the town, at such an hour. For he thought if he should stay in town to speak with them, they might, under pretence of discoursing with him, have raised people to carry him out of the town again, as they had done before. At the time appointed he went to the place, captain Davenport and his son accompanying him; and there he staid some hours, but none of them came; whereby the intent of the Baptists was sufficiently discovered. Being thus disappointed, he went back again to Edinburgh, and past through the town, as it were, against the cannon’s mouth. The next day, being the first day of the week, he went to the meeting in the city, and many officers and soldiers came to it, and all was quiet. The following day he went to Dunbar, where walking with a friend or two of his in the steeple-house yard, and meeting with one of the chief men of the town there; he spoke to one of his friends to tell him, that about the ninth hour next morning, there was to be a meeting there, of the people of God, called Quakers, of which they desired him to give notice to the people of the town. To which he said, that they were to have a lecture there by the ninth hour; but that a meeting might be kept there by the eighth hour, if they would. G. Fox thinking this not inconvenient, desired him to give notice of it. Accordingly in the morning many came, both poor and rich; and a captain of horse being quartered in the town, came there with his troopers also. To this company G. Fox preached, and after some time the priest came, and went into the steeple-house; but G. Fox and his friend being in the steeple-house yard, most of the people staid with them; so that the priest having but few hearers, made short work, and coming out, stood a while and heard G. Fox, and then went away. This was the last meeting he had in Scotland, and he understood afterwards, that his labour had not been in vain, but that the number of believers increased. Now he departed from Dunbar, and came to Berwick in Northumberland, and from thence to Newcastle, where we will leave him awhile, and return again to New England.

We have seen before, that a law was made there, to prevent the Quakers coming into that country. The first I find that came after that, were Anne Burden, a widow, whose business was to gather up some debts in the country, that were due to her; and Mary Dyer from Rhode Island, who, before her coming, knew nothing of what had been done there concerning the Quakers. These two were both imprisoned, which William Dyer, Mary’s husband, hearing, came from Rhode Island, and did not get her released without a great deal of pains; becoming bound in a great penalty, not to lodge her in any town in that colony, nor to permit any to speak with her: an evident token that he was not of the society of Quakers, so called, for otherwise he would not have entered into such a bond; but then without question, he would also have been clapped up in prison. As for Anne Burden, she was kept in prison, though sick, about a quarter of a year. Whilst she was in this restraint, some tender-hearted people had procured of her debts to the value of about thirty pounds in goods; and when she at length was to be sent away, she desired that she might have liberty to pass for England, by Barbadoes, because her goods were not fit for England. Now how reasonable soever this request was, yet a master of a ship was compelled to carry her to England, without her goods, for which she came there, except to the value of about six shillings, which an honest man sent her upon an old account. And when the master of the ship asked who should pay for her passage, the magistrates bid him take so much of her goods as would answer it. But he was too honest to do so, being persuaded that she would not let him be a loser, though he could not compel her to pay, since she went not of her own will: yet for all that she paid him at London. After she was gone, when he that had the first trust from her husband, was to convey her goods to Barbadoes, these rapacious people stopped to the value of six pounds ten shillings for her passage, for which they paid nothing, and seven shillings for boat-hire to carry her on ship-board, though the master proffered the governor to carry her in his own boat, but that was not allowed; she being sent with the hangman in a boat that was pressed: besides, they took to the value of fourteen shillings for the jailer, to whom she owed nothing. Now, though this widow had made such a great voyage, to get something of what was due to her, to relieve her, and her fatherless children, yet after three years she had nothing of it come to her hands; and whether she got any thing since I never understood.

The next of the Quakers that came to Boston, was Mary Clark, who, having left her husband, John Clark, a merchant taylor, with her children at London, came thither to warn these persecutors to desist from their iniquity: but after she had delivered her message, she was unmercifully rewarded with twenty stripes of a whip with three cords, on her naked back, and detained prisoner about twelve weeks in the winter season. The cords of these whips were commonly as thick as a man’s little finger, having each some knots at the end; and the stick was sometimes so long, that the hangman made use of both his hands to strike the harder.

The next that came were Christopher Holder and John Copeland, who had been banished before; and coming to Salem, a town in the same colony, Holder spoke a few words in their meeting, after the priest had done; but was hauled back by the hair of his head, and a glove and handkerchief thrust into his mouth, and so turned out with his companion; and next day had to Boston, where each of them received thirty stripes with a knotted whip of three cords, the hangman measuring his ground, and fetching his strokes with the greatest strength he could: which so cruelly cut their flesh, that a woman seeing it fell down as dead. Then they were locked up in prison, and the jailer kept them three days without any food, not giving them so much as a draught of water; and so close that none might come to speak with them; lying on the boards without bed or straw. Thus they were kept nine weeks prisoners, without fire, in the cold winter season. And Samuel Shattock, of Salem, who endeavoured to stop the thrusting of the glove and handkerchief into Holder’s mouth, lest it should have choaked him, was also carried to Boston, and there imprisoned, till he had given bond for twenty pounds, to answer it at the next court, and not to come at any meeting of the Quakers.

The career of this cruelty did not stop here; for Lawrence Southick and Cassandra, his wife, members of the public church at Salem, and an ancient and grave couple, having entertained the aforesaid C. Holder and J. Copeland, were committed to prison, and sent to Boston, where Lawrence being released, his wife was kept seven weeks prisoner, and then fined forty shillings for owning a paper of exhortation, written by the aforesaid Holder and Copeland.

The next that came from England, as being under a necessity from the Lord to come to this land of persecution, was Richard Dowdney, who was apprehended at Dedham, and brought to Boston, having never before been in that country; yet he was not spared for all that, but thirty stripes were also given him in like manner as the former. And after twenty days imprisonment, he was sent away with Holder and Copeland; after having been threatened with cutting off their ears, if they returned. These cruel dealings, so affected many inhabitants, that some withdrew from the public assemblies, and meeting by themselves quietly on the First days of the week, they were fined five shillings a week, and committed to prison. The first whose lot this was, were the aforesaid Lawrence and Cassandra Southick, and their son Josiah, who, being carried to Boston, were all of them, notwithstanding the old age of the two, sent to the house of correction, and whipped with cords, as those before, in the coldest season of the year, and had taken from them to the value of four pounds thirteen shillings, for not coming to church.

Leaving New England for a while, I will turn another way. It was in this year, about the latter end of summer, that a certain young man named George Robinson, felt a motion to travel to Jerusalem. In order thereunto, he embarked in a ship bound for Leghorn, in Italy, where, having staid about two weeks, being daily visited by English and others, he went with a French ship towards St. John D’Acre, formerly called Ptolemais, a city in Asia bordering upon the Mediterranean sea, near Palestine, where, having lodged about eight days in a French merchant’s house, he embarked in a vessel bound for Jaffa or Joppa. What occurred by the way with some Turks, who demanded unreasonable tribute of him, I pass by; but a certain Armenian on that occasion having seen his meek behaviour, said, he was a good Christian, and was very kind to him. Being arrived at Jaffa, he went to Ramoth, but the Friars at Jerusalem having heard of his coming, gave orders to some to stop him, which was done accordingly; and after having been locked up about a day, there came an ancient Turk, a man of great repute, who took him into his house, and courteously entertained him. After four or five days there came an Irish friar from Jerusalem, with whom, falling into discourse of religious matters, the friar at first behaved himself kindly, but told him afterwards, that was not the business he came about, but that he was sent from his brethren, the friars, at Jerusalem, to propound to him some questions.

1. Whether he would promise, when he came to Jerusalem, that he would visit the holy places as other pilgrims did?
2. Whether he would pay so much money as pilgrims used to do?
3. Whether he would wear such a sort of habit as was usual with pilgrims?
4. That he must speak nothing against the Turks laws.
5. And when he came to Jerusalem, not speak any thing about religion.

Not being willing to enter into a promise, he was by the Irish friar, (with a guard of horse and footmen, he brought with him,) carried back to Jaffa, and embarked in a vessel bound for St. John d’Acre; whither being come, a French merchant called Surrubi, took him into his house, and lodged him about three weeks. This man entertained him very kindly, and would say sometimes that it was the Lord’s doings; ‘For,’ said he, ‘when my own countrymen come to me, they are little to me, but thee I can willingly receive.’ After much trouble, Robinson got opportunity, by the help of the said French merchant, who was an ancient man, to return by sea to Jaffa; from whence he went on his journey a-foot, and by the way met three men, two of them riding upon asses, and the other going a-foot; and they asking him for money, one held his gun to his breast, and another put his hands into his pockets, and took some things out. He suffering all this without any opposition, the man that took his things from him put them up again; and one of the three taking him by the hand, led him a little on his way, in a friendly manner, and so left him. At length Robinson came to Ramoth, where he was presently known, and two that belonged to the friars laid hold on him, and hurried him away; but two Turks took him from them, and one leading him by one arm, and the other by the other, they brought him into a mosque, or Turkish temple. Thus innocently entering there, many people came flocking in, and also some of the Mahometan priests, who having caused him to sit down, asked him whether he would turn to the Mahometan religion? But he refusing, they pressed him much, made great promises, and said that he had no need to fear what the Christians might do unto him. Nevertheless he answered he could not turn unto them for all the world. But they continued to strive much with him, and would have him hold up one of his fingers, as a sign of owning them; and one bid him say, ‘Christ is bad;’ but he answered, he knew him to be good, and he was his servant. Then some growing angry, said if he would not turn to their religion, he would die. To which he replying that he would rather die than turn unto them; it was answered, he should then die. And so by their order, the executioner hauled him away to the place where it was expected that he should have been burnt to death with camel’s dung. Here he was made to sit down upon the ground, and was as a sheep among wolves. Whilst he was thus sitting with a retired mind, the Turks began to fall out among themselves, and whilst they were at odds, a grave ancient Turk, a man of note, came to him, and said whether he would turn from his religion or not, he should not die. Then he was brought before the priests again, who asked him, ‘Will you turn?’ and he answering ‘No,’ they recorded in a book, that he was no Roman Catholic, but of another religion; for though he denied to be such a Catholic, yet he had owned that he was a Christian.

The Turks coming now to be more sedate, the aforesaid ancient man ordered his servants to conduct Robinson to his house, where he was friendly entertained, and soon perceived that the friars had thus plotted against him; for he went not into the mosque of his own accord; being led into it; but heaven preserved him. After having been four or five days in the house of the ancient Turk, there came a guard of horsemen, hired by the friars, to carry him to Gaza; for they had pre-informed the bashaw of that place against him; but Robinson being come thither, things took another turn than they expected; for the bashaw being by some Turks made acquainted with the mischievous design of the friars, made them not only pay a considerable fine, but also commanded them to convey Robinson safely to Jerusalem. Whilst he was at Gaza, he was visited by many Turks, Greeks, and Armenians; the latter of which having heard he was a Christian, and that he chose rather to die than to turn from his religion, became very loving, as were the Turks, the Jews also showed themselves moderate towards him. Then according to the forementioned order of the bashaw, he was carried to Jerusalem, and there, by the appointment of the friars, brought into their convent, where at first they seemingly showed love unto him, and one confessed, there was now an evident sign, that he was a good Christian, for he was come through persecution and sufferings; and those things which had been spoken in his prejudice, were manifest to be untrue. Robinson told the friar, it was he and his brethren that had been the cause of his sufferings, and withstood his coming to Jerusalem. To which the other returned, that the English friar had misinformed them by his writing, which had caused them to do what they had done; and that therefore they desired he would now pass by those things, seeing he was come through in such a miraculous manner; for, (continued the friar,) it was the Lord’s work, thus to carry him through, and he might praise God he was preserved.

The next morning a friar came to him, and asked if he would become an obedient child, and go to visit the holy places, according to their custom; he answered, ‘No.’ Then the friar said, ‘Whereas others give great sums of money to see them, you shall see them for nothing.’ But Robinson replied ‘I shall not visit them in your manner, for in so doing I should sin against God.’ This did not please the friar, yet he said they would honour him as much as ever they honoured any Englishman that came thither, if he would conform unto them. But Robinson continued immoveable, and said he should not conform; and as for their honour, he did not matter it. Then the friar became angry, and said they would make him an example to all Englishmen that came thither. To which Robinson returned, ‘I choose your dishonour rather than your honour.’ The friar seeing he could not prevail, went away in anger, and within a short time came again; and other friars being present, one asked him if he would visit their church, and the holy sepulchre, and Bethlehem, with the rest of the holy places, as other pilgrims did? But he told them, at present he had no business to visit them; and in their manner he should not visit them at all, viz. to worship them. Then one said to him, ‘How can you be a servant of God, and will not go to visit the places where the holy men of God dwelt?’ To which he returned, that they under pretence of doing service to God, in visiting the places where the holy men dwelt, did oppose that way, and resist that life, which the holy men of God lived and walked in. Then one of the friars said, ‘What do you preach unto us for?’ To which he replied, that he would have them turn from those evil practices they lived in, else the wrath of the Almighty would be kindled against them. But they did not at all like such discourse, and therefore said, if he would not go and visit the aforesaid places, yet he must give twenty-five dollars, as was the manner of those that visited them; for, said they, the Turks must be paid, whether he would visit them, or not; but if he would visit them, then they would pay it for him. To this he signified, that he could not submit to such unreasonable terms.

Then they brought him before a Turk in authority in that place, who asked him divers questions, to which he soberly gave answers; and they discoursing about the worship of the Christians, the Turk asked also, what was the ground of his coming to Jerusalem. To which he answered, that it was by the command of the Lord God of heaven and earth he came thither; and that the great and tender love of God was made manifest in visiting them; his compassionate mercies being such, that he would gather them in this the day of his gathering. This was the message which Robinson believed he had from the Lord to declare unto them, whether they would hear, or forbear. And afterwards he wrote, that having thus cleared his conscience, he found great peace with the Lord, and therefore he magnified his glorious name, who had gone along with him, and preserved him in many trials. For the friars, who intended him mischief, were commanded by the Turks to carry him again safe and free of charges, to Ramola. Here I leave him, because I do not find how he came home; but that he returned thither in safety, appears to me from the relation he afterwards published of his travels.