Among several other eminent preachers, Stephen Crisp was now also become a public minister of the word of God; and it was about this time that he went to Scotland, to preach the gospel there, and to edify the churches with his gift.

G. Fox the younger, this year wrote an exhortation to the military officers, and the army, showing them how they were departed from their first integrity, and fallen into pride and wantonness.

G. Fox the elder, about the Tenth month, was at Norwich, where a meeting being appointed, and the mayor having got notice of it, intended to have given out a warrant to apprehend him, but he having heard of this, sent some of his friends to the mayor, to speak with him about it. And his answer was, that he feared such a meeting would cause tumults in the town. But being spoken to in a kind way, he behaved himself moderately, and a large peaceable meeting was kept; to which, among others, several priests also came, and among these was one Townsend, who stood up and cried, ‘Error, Blasphemy,’ &c. G. Fox desired him not to burden himself with that which he could not make good. But he asserted it to be error and blasphemy, that G. Fox had said that people must wait upon God by his power and Spirit, and feel his presence when they did not speak words. On this G. Fox asked him, whether the apostles and holy men of God, did not hear God speak to them in their silence before they spake forth the Scriptures, and before it was written? He replied ‘Yes,’ and confirmed it by saying plainly, that David and the prophets did so. Then G. Fox showed people how absurd it was, that Townsend, had called such a practice error and blasphemy. This so puzzled Townsend, that he said, ‘O this is not that George Fox I would speak withal; but this is a subtil man.’ Now when some of the auditory called to the priest, and bade him prove the blasphemy and error which he had charged G. Fox with, he went away; and being afterwards spoken to by George Whitehead, and Richard Hubberthorn, who were then also about Norwich, he was soon confounded and brought down.

The committee of safety being now in power, Edmund Ludlow continued to urge the restoring of the parliament; and general Monk, who commanded the army in Scotland, aiming at the restoration of the king, yet wrote to the speaker, Lenthal, that he would act for the parliament: and so it was restored.

G. Fox the younger, wrote to this parliament a letter, wherein he told them, that their day was turned into darkness; and that the sun was gone down over them. Yea, that the decree was gone out, and sealed against them, and it could not be recalled: with many other remarkable expressions. He had written at other times to the army, and to the parliament, as did also Richard Hubberthorn, which to avoid prolixity, I pass by.

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Let us now again take a view of the persecution in New England. I have already made mention of Lawrence and Cassandra Southwick, and their son Josiah, of whom more is to be said hereafter; but first I will speak of Daniel and Provided, son and daughter of the said Lawrence and Cassandra. These children seeing how unreasonably their honest parents and brothers were dealt with, were so far from being deterred thereby, that they rather felt themselves encouraged to follow their steps, and not to frequent the assemblies of such a persecuting generation; for which absence they were fined ten pounds, though it was well known they had no estate, their parents being already brought to poverty by their rapacious persecutors. To get this money, the following order was issued in the general court at Boston.

The subject of this order was answered effectually at large in print, by G. Bishop, who showed the unreasonableness of this work very plainly from sacred writ; as from Amos, ii. 6, where the judgments of God are denounced against those who sold the righteous for silver, and the poor for a pair of shoes; and from Levit. xxv. 42, where the making the children of Israel bondmen, is expressly forbidden; this being not lawful, but in the case of theft, if the thief had nothing to make satisfaction with. But to return to Daniel and Provided, there wanted nothing but the execution of the said order against them. Wherefore Edmund Butter, one of the treasurers, to get something of the booty, sought out for passage, to send them to Barbadoes for sale; but none were willing to take or carry them: and a certain master of a ship, to put the thing off, pretended, that they would spoil all the ship’s company. To which Butter returned, ‘No, you need not fear that, for they are poor harmless creatures, and will not hurt any body.’ ‘Will they not so,’ replied the shipmaster: ‘and will you offer to make slaves of such harmless creatures?’ Thus Butter, maugre his wicked intention, the winter being at hand, sent them home again, to shift for themselves, till he could get a convenient opportunity to send them away.

It happened also in this year, that a girl, about eleven years old, named Patience Scot, whose religious mother had been cruelly whipt by these people, bore witness against their wicked persecution; which so incensed the persecutors, that they sent her to prison: and the child having been examined, spoke so well to the purpose, that she confounded her enemies; some of whom confessed, that they had many children, who had been well educated, and that it were well if they could say half so much for God, as she could for the devil. But this child not being of years to be obnoxious to the law, how wicked soever they were, it seems they could not resolve to proceed to banishment, as they did with others.

All that hitherto I have said of the New England persecution, is but cursorily, and only a very small part of those manifold whippings that were inflicted there; besides the extortions of fines, which were exorbitant to a high degree; as may appear by what was done to William Maston, at Hampton, who was fined ten pounds for two books found in his house, five pounds for not frequenting their church, and three pounds besides, as a due to the priest: and he not being free in conscience to pay this fine, had taken from him what amounted to more than twenty pounds. I find also, that not long after this time, above a thousand pounds was extorted from some, only because they had separated themselves from the persecuting church: and it seems they were deemed such as were shut out from the protection of the law; insomuch that Thomas Prince, governor of Plymouth, did not stick to say, that in his conscience the Quakers were such a people, that deserved to be destroyed, they, their wives, and children, their houses and lands, without pity or mercy. I find also that one Humphrey Norton at Newhaven, for being a Quaker, was whipt severely, and burnt in the hand with the letter H. to signify heretic.

This cruelty of the English did also stir up the Dutch to persecution: for without inquiring what kind of people the Quakers were, they seemed ready to conclude them to be men of pernicious opinions, since those of their own nation, who pretended to more purity than other Protestants, did so severely persecute them.

It happened that one Robert Hodshone, being in the Dutch plantation at Hamstead, had a meeting with some of his friends that were English, and lived there; but as he was walking in an orchard, an officer came and took hold of him, and brought him before one Gildersleave, an Englishman, and a magistrate there, who committed him to prison, and rode to the Dutch governor to acquaint him therewith: and coming back with a guard of musqueteers, the fiscal searched the prisoner, and took away his knife, papers, and bible, and pinioned him, and kept him so all night, and the next day. And making inquiry after those that entertained him, he took into custody two women on that occasion, one of whom had two small children, the one yet sucking at her breast. Then they got a cart and carried the women away in it, and Robert was fastened to the hinder part of the cart, pinioned, and so drawn through the woods in the night season, whereby he was much torn and abused. And being come to New Amsterdam, (now New York,) he was loosed, and led by the rope, with which he had been fastened to the cart, to the dungeon, being a filthy place, full of vermin; and the two women were carried to another place. Some time after he was examined, there being one captain Willet of Plymouth, who had much incensed the governor against him, who before had been moderate. The conclusion was, that a sentence was read in Dutch, to Robert, to this effect, that he was to work two years at the wheelbarrow with a negro, or pay, or cause to be paid, six hundred guilders. To this he attempted to make his defence in a sober way, but was not suffered to speak, and sent to the dungeon again; where no English were suffered to come to him. After some days he was taken out, and pinioned, and being set with his face towards the court chamber, his hat was taken off, and another sentence read to him in Dutch, which he did not understand: but that it displeased many of that nation, did appear by the shaking of their heads. Then he was cast again into the dungeon, where he was kept some days.

At length, betimes in the morning, he was hauled out, and chained to a wheelbarrow, and commanded to work: to which he answered, he was never brought up, nor used to such a work. Upon which they made a negro to take a pitched rope, nigh four inches about, and to beat him; who did so, till Robert fell down. Then they took him up again, and caused the negro to beat him with the said rope, until he fell down the second time, and it was believed that he received about one hundred blows. Thus he was kept all that day in the heat of the sun, chained to the wheelbarrow; and his body being much bruised and swelled with the blows, and he kept without food, grew very faint, and sat upon the ground, with his mind retired to the Lord, and resigned to his will, whereby he felt himself supported. At night he was locked up again in the dungeon, and the next morning he was chained again to the wheelbarrow, and a sentinel set over him, that none might come so much as to speak with him. On the third day he was had forth, and chained in like manner; and no wonder that he still refused to work, for besides the unreasonableness of requiring such a servile work of him who had committed no evil, he was not in a condition to perform it, being made altogether unable by the cruel blows given him. In this weak state he was brought before the governor, who demanded him to work, otherwise he said, he should be whipt every day. Robert asked him what law he had broken? And called for his accusers, that he might know his transgression. But instead of an answer he was chained to the wheelbarrow again, and threatened, that if he spake to any one, he should be punished worse. Yet he did not forbear to speak to some that came to him, so as he saw meet, and thought convenient. Then seeing they could not keep him silent, they put him into the dungeon again, and kept him close there several days, and two nights; one day and a half of it, without bread or water.

After this, he was brought very early in the morning, into a private room, and stript to the waist, and hung up by his hands, and a great log of wood tied to his feet, so that he could not turn his body; and then a strong negro was set to whip him with rods, who laid many stripes upon him, which cut his flesh very much. Then he was let down again, and put into the dungeon as before, and none suffered to come to him. Two days after he was had forth again, and hung up as before, and many more stripes were laid upon him by another negro. He almost fainting, and not knowing but his life might be taken away, desired that some English might be suffered to come to him: which was granted, and an English woman came and washed his stripes, finding him brought so low that she thought he would not live till the next morning. And she telling this to her husband, it made such an impression upon him, that he went to the fiscal and proffered him a fat ox, to suffer Robert to be at his house until he was well again. But the fiscal would not permit this, unless the whole fine was paid. And though there were some that would willingly have paid the fine for him, yet he could not consent to it; but within three days after he had thus been whipped, he was made whole, and as strong as before, and was free to labour, that he might not be burdensome to any. Some others of those called Quakers, (who came thither from the plantations in New England to enjoy liberty of conscience, and whose names and sufferings I pass by for brevity’s sake,) met also with hard measure from the governor, by the instigation of the aforesaid Captain Willet. Robert now though guiltless, being kept like a slave to hard work, it raised compassion in many, and the governor’s sister, who was much affected with his sufferings, became instrumental in obtaining his liberty; for she so plied her brother, that he at length set him free without paying one penny, or any body for him; by which the governor showed, that though he had been too easily wrought upon to commit evil, yet he was not come near to that height of malice as the New England persecutors; who increased in their hard-heartedness, and became inured to cruelty, insomuch that if any one amongst them would not give his vote for persecution, he was counted unworthy to be a magistrate: as appears by a letter of one James Cudworth, written some time before to one of his friends in Old England, wherein I meet with these words:

Now shall I enter upon the narrative of their putting some to death, who died martyrs; for this was yet wanting to complete the tragedy, which it seems could not be done to the satisfaction of the actors, without playing a murdering part.

The two first that sealed their testimony with their blood, were William Robinson, merchant of London, and Marmaduke Stevenson, a countryman of Yorkshire. These coming to Boston in the beginning of September, were sent for by the court of assistants, and there sentenced to banishment on pain of death. This sentence was passed also on Mary Dyar, mentioned heretofore, and Nicholas Davis, who were both at Boston. But William Robinson, being looked upon as a teacher, was also condemned to be whipt severely; and the constable was commanded to get an able man to do it. Then Robinson was brought into the street, and there stript; and having his hands put through the holes of the carriage of a great gun, where the jailer held him, the executioner gave him twenty stripes with a three-fold cord whip. Then he and the other prisoners were shortly released, and banished; which that it was for no other reason but their being Quakers, may appear by the following warrant:

Now though Mary Dyar and Nicholas Davis left that jurisdiction for that time, yet Robinson and Stevenson, though they departed the town of Boston, could not yet resolve, (not being free in mind,) to depart that jurisdiction, though their lives were at stake. And so they went to Salem, and some place thereabout to visit and build up their friends in the faith. But it was not long before they were taken, and put again into prison at Boston, and chains locked to their right legs. In the next month Mary Dyar returned also. And as she stood before the prison, speaking with one Christopher Holder, who was come thither to inquire for a ship bound for England, whither he intended to go, she was also taken into custody. Thus they had three persons, who, according to their sanguinary law, had forfeited their lives. And on the 20th of October, these three were brought into the court, where John Endicot and others were assembled. And being called to the bar, Endicot commanded the keeper to pull off their hats: and then said, that they had made several laws to keep the Quakers from amongst them; and neither whipping, nor imprisoning, nor cutting off ears, nor banishing upon pain of death, would keep them from amongst them. And further he said, that he or they desired not the death of any of them. Yet notwithstanding, his following words without more ado, were, ‘Give ear, and hearken to your sentence of death.’ W. Robinson then desired that he might be permitted to read a paper, giving an account of the reason why he had not departed that jurisdiction. But Endicot would not suffer it to be read, and said in a rage, ‘You shall not read it, nor will the court hear it read.’ Then Robinson laid it on the table. He had written this paper the day before, and some of the contents were, that he being in Rhode Island, the Lord had commanded him to go to Boston, and to lay down his life there. That he also had felt an assurance that his soul was to enter into everlasting peace, and eternal rest. That he durst not but obey, without inquiring further concerning it; believing that it became him as a child, to show obedience to the Lord, without any unwillingness. That this was the cause, why after banishment on pain of death, he staid in their jurisdiction: and that now with sincerity of heart he could say, Blessed be the Lord, the God of my life, who hath called me hereunto, and counted me worthy to testify against wicked and unjust men, &c. This paper being handed to Endicot, he read it to himself, and after he had done, said to Robinson, ‘You need not keep such ado to have it read; for you spoke yesterday more than here is written.’ Yet this was not so; for it contained a circumstantial relation of the divine operations on his mind; and that he was not come there in his own will, but in obedience to his Creator: and that travelling in Rhode Island, on the 8th of the Eighth month, he had been moved thereto from the Lord, and therefore had submitted to his divine pleasure without murmuring. W. Robinson desired again that the paper might be read, that so all that were present might hear it, it was denied him, and Endicot said, ‘W. Robinson hearken to your sentence of death; you shall be had back to the place from whence you came, and from thence to the place of execution, to be hanged on the gallows till you are dead.’ This sentence was not altogether unexpected to W. Robinson; for it was four months now that he had believed this would be his share.

Robinson being taken away, M. Stevenson was called, and Endicot said to him, ‘If you have any thing to say, you may speak.’ He knowing how they dealt with his companion, was silent, though he had also written in prison a paper, containing the cause of his being come there; but he kept it with him, and found afterwards occasion to deliver it to somebody. Then Endicot pronounced sentence of death against him, saying, ‘M. Stevenson, you shall be had to the place from whence you came, and from thence to the gallows, and there be hanged till you are dead.’ Whereupon M. Stevenson spoke thus: ‘Give ear, ye magistrates, and all who are guilty; for this the Lord hath said concerning you, and will perform his word upon you, that the same day ye put his servants to death, shall the day of your visitation pass over your heads, and you shall be cursed for evermore. The mouth of the Lord of hosts hath spoken it. Therefore in love to you all, I exhort you to take warning before it be too late, that so the curse may be removed. For assuredly if you put us to death, you will bring innocent blood upon your own heads, and swift destruction will come upon you.’

After he had spoken this, he was taken away, and Mary Dyar was called: to whom Endicot spoke thus: ‘Mary Dyar, you shall go to the place from whence you came, (to wit, the prison,) and from thence to the place of execution, and be hanged there until you are dead.’ To which she replied, ‘The will of the Lord be done.’ Then Endicot said, ‘Take her away, marshal.’ To which she returned, ‘Yea, joyfully I go.’ And in her going to the prison, she often uttered speeches of praise to the Lord; and, being full of joy, she said to the marshal, he might let her alone, for she would go to the prison without him. To which he answered, ‘I believe you, Mrs. Dyar: but I must do what I am commanded.’ Thus she was led to prison, where she was kept a week, with the two other, her companions, that were also condemned to die.

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The paper of Marmaduke Stevenson, mentioned before, which he gave forth after he had received sentence of death, was thus:

Mary Dyar being returned to prison, wrote the following letter, which she sent to the rulers of Boston.

The day appointed to execute the bloody sentence, was the 27th of October, when in the afternoon the condemned prisoners were led to the gallows by the marshal Michaelson, and captain James Oliver, with a band of about two hundred armed men, besides many horsemen; as if they were afraid that some of the people would have rescued the prisoners: and that no actors on the stage might be wanting, the priest Wilson joined the company, who, when the court deliberated how to deal with the Quakers, said, ‘Hang them, or else’ (drawing his finger athwart his throat,) as if he would have said, ‘Dispatch ’em this way.’ Now the march began, and a drummer going next before the condemned, the drums were beaten, especially when any of them attempted to speak. Glorious signs of heavenly joy and gladness were beheld in the countenances of these three persons, who walked hand in hand, Mary being the middlemost, which made the marshal say to her, who was pretty aged, and stricken in years, ‘Are not you ashamed to walk thus hand in hand between two young men?’ ‘No,’ replied she, ‘this is to me an hour of the greatest joy I could enjoy in this world. No eye can see, nor ear can hear, no tongue can utter, and no heart can understand, the sweet incomes, or influence, and the refreshings of the spirit of the Lord, which now I feel.’ Thus going along, W. Robinson said, ‘This is your hour, and the power of darkness.’ But presently the drums were beaten; yet shortly after the drummers leaving off beating, Marmaduke Stevenson said, ‘This is the day of your visitation, wherein the Lord hath visited you.’ More he spoke, but could not be understood, by reason of the drums being beaten again. Yet they went on with great cheerfulness, as going to an everlasting wedding feast, and rejoicing that the Lord had counted them worthy to suffer death for his name’s sake.

When they were come near the gallows, the priest said in a taunting way to W. Robinson, ‘Shall such jacks as you come in before authority with their hats on?’ To which Robinson replied, ‘Mind you, mind you, it is for the not putting off the hat we are put to death!’ Now being come to the ladder, they took leave of each other with tender embraces, and then Robinson went cheerfully up the ladder, and being got up, said to the people, ‘This is the day of your visitation, wherein the Lord hath visited you: this is the day the Lord is risen in his mighty power, to be avenged on all his adversaries.’ He also signified, that he suffered not as an evil-doer: and desired the spectators to mind the light that was in them; to wit, the Light of Christ, of which he testified, and was now going to seal it with his blood. This so incensed the envious priest, that he said, ‘Hold thy tongue; be silent; thou art going to die with a lie in thy mouth.’ The rope being now about his neck, the executioner bound his hands and legs, and tied his neckcloth about his face: which being done, Robinson said, ‘Now ye are made manifest;’ and the executioner being about turning him off, he said, ‘I suffer for Christ, in whom I live, and for whom I die.’ He being turned off, Marmaduke Stevenson stepped up the ladder, and said, ‘Be it known unto all this day, that we suffer not as evil-doers, but for conscience sake.’ And when the hangman was about to turn him off, he said, ‘This day shall we be at rest with the Lord;’ and so he was turned off.

Mary Dyar seeing her companions hanging dead before her, also stepped up the ladder; but after her coats were tied about her feet, the halter put about her neck, and her face covered with a handkerchief, which the priest Wilson lent the hangman, just as she was to be turned off, a cry was heard, ‘Stop, for she is reprieved.’ Her feet then being loosed, they bade her come down. But she whose mind was already as it were in heaven, stood still, and said, she was there willing to suffer as her brethren did, unless they would annul their wicked law. Little heed was given to what she said, but they pulled her down, and the marshal and others taking her by the arms, carried her to prison again. That she thus was freed from the gallows, this time, was at the intercession of her son, to whom it seems they could not then resolve to deny that favour. She, now having heard why she was reprieved, wrote the next day, being the 28th of October, the following letter to the court.

The magistrates now perceiving that the putting William Robinson and Marmaduke Stevenson to death, caused great discontent among the people, resolved to send away Mary Dyar, thereby to calm their minds a little. And so she was put on horseback, and by four horsemen conveyed fifteen miles towards Rhode Island, where she was left with a horse and a man, to be conveyed the rest of the way: which she soon sent back, and so repaired home. By the style of her letters, and her undaunted carriage, it appears that she had indeed some extraordinary qualities; I find also, that she was of a comely and grave countenance, of a good family and estate, and a mother of several children: but her husband it seems was of another persuasion.

Whilst I now leave her at home, I am to say that one John Chamberlain, an inhabitant of Boston, having seen the execution of W. Robinson and M. Stevenson, was so reached by their pious speeches, that he received the doctrine of the Truth, for which they died: but his visiting those in prison was so ill resented, that afterwards he was whipped several times severely; as was also Edward Wharton, an inhabitant of Salem: who having said that the guilt of Robinson and Stevenson’s blood was so great and heavy, that he was not able to bear it, was, for this his pretended sauciness, whipped with twenty lashes, and fined twenty pounds.

But before I quite leave the persons that were hanged, I must say, that being dead, their countenances still looked fresh; (for the terror of death had not seized them.) But being cut down, they were very barbarously used, none taking hold of their bodies: which so fell down on the ground, that thereby the scull of W. Robinson was broken: and even their shirts were ripped off with a knife, and their naked bodies cast into a hole which was digged, without any covering. And when some of their friends would have laid their bodies into coffins, it was denied them. Neither would they suffer the place where the bodies were cast, to be fenced with pales, lest ravenous beasts might prey upon them.

When the people returned from the execution, many seemed sad and heavy; and coming to the drawbridge, one end of it fell upon some, and several were hurt, especially a wicked woman, who had reviled the said two persons at their death; but now she was so bruised, that her flesh rotted from her bones, which made such a noisome stink, that people could not endure to be with her: in which miserable condition she remained till she died. But the magistrates, instead of taking notice of this, grew more hardened; and priest Wilson did not stick to make a ballad on the executed.