After this, Margaret determined to go to London, to speak with the king about this matter: which Porter having heard of, said he would go too; and so he did. But because he had been a zealous man for the parliament against the king, several of the courtiers put him in mind of his plundering of their houses. And this so troubled him, that he quickly left the court, and returned home, and then spoke to the jailer about contriving a way to release G. Fox. But in his mittimus he had overshot himself, by ordering G. Fox to be kept prisoner, till he should be delivered by the king or parliament. G. Fox also sent him a letter, and put him in mind, how fierce he had been against the king, and his party, though now he would be thought zealous for the king. And among other passages he called to his remembrance, how, when he held Lancaster Castle for the parliament against the king, he was so rough and fierce against those that favoured the king, that he said, he would leave them neither dog nor cat, if they did not bring him in provision to his castle.

One Anne Curtis coming to see G. Fox, and understanding how he stood committed, resolved also to go to the king about it; for her father, who had been sheriff of Bristol, was hanged near his own door, for endeavouring to bring in the king: upon which consideration, she was in hopes to be admitted to the king’s presence to speak with him. Coming to London, she and Margaret Fell went together to the king, who, when he understood whose daughter Anne was, received her kindly. She having acquainted the king with the case of G. Fox, desired, that he would be pleased to send for him up, and hear the cause himself. This the king promised her he would do, and commanded his secretary to send down an order for the bringing up G. Fox. But it was long before this order was executed, for many evasions were sought, as well by carping at a word, as by other craft; whereby the sending up of G. Fox was retarded above two months. He thus continuing prisoner, wrote several papers, and among the rest also this.

The sheriff of Lancaster still refused to remove G. Fox, unless he would become bound, and pay for the sealing of the writing, and the charge of carrying him up. But this he would not. Then they consulting how to convey him, it was at first proposed to send a party of horse with him. But he told them, if he were such a man as they had represented him to be, they had need to send a troop or two of horse to guard him. But considering that this would be a great charge to them, they concluded to send him up guarded only by the jailer, and some bailiffs. On further consideration, they found that this also would be very chargeable, and thereupon told him, if he would put in bail, that he would be in London such a day of the term, he should have leave to go up with some of his own friends. G. Fox told them, he would neither put in any bail, nor give any money: but if they would let him go up with one or two of his friends, he would go up, and be in London such a day, if the Lord did permit. So at last, when they saw they could not make him bow, the sheriff consented that he should go up with some of his friends, without any other engagement than his word, to appear before the judges at London such a day of the term, if the Lord did permit. Whereupon they let him go out of prison, and after some stay, he went with Richard Hubberthorn and Robert Withers, to London, whither he came on a day that some of the judges of king Charles the First, were hanged and quartered at Charing Cross: for now what E. Burrough and others had plainly foretold, was fulfilling on them.

The next morning G. Fox, and those with him, went to judge Thomas Mallet’s chamber, who then was putting on his red gown, to sit upon some more of the king’s judges, and therefore he told him he might come another time. G. Fox did so, being accompanied by —— Marsh, esq. one of the king’s bed-chamber. When he came to the judge’s chamber, he found there also the lord chief justice Foster, and delivered to them the charge that was against him: but when they read those words, that he and his friends were embroiling the nation in blood, &c. they struck their hands on the table: whereupon G. Fox told them, that he was the man whom that charge was against; but that he was as innocent of any such thing as a newborn child; that he brought it up himself, and that some of his friends came up with him, without any guard. As yet the judges had not minded G. Fox’s hat, but now seeing his hat on, they said why did he stand with his hat on? He told them, he did not stand in any contempt to them. Then they commanded one to take it off; and having called for the marshal of the King’s Bench, they said to him, ‘you must take this man and secure him, but you must let him have a chamber, and not put him amongst the prisoners.’ But the marshal said his house was so full, that he could not tell where to provide a room for him, but amongst the prisoners. Judge Foster then said to G. Fox, ‘Will you appear to-morrow about ten of the clock at the King’s Bench Bar, in Westminster Hall?’ ‘Yes,’ said he, ‘if the Lord give me strength.’ Hereupon the said judge said to the other judge, ‘If he say yes, and promises it, ye may take his word.’

So he was dismissed for that time, and the next day appeared at the King’s Bench Bar at the hour appointed, being accompanied by Richard Hubberthorn, Robert Withers, and esquire Marsh, before-named. And being brought into the middle of the court, he looked about and turning to the people, said, ‘Peace be among you.’ Then the charge against him was read, and coming to that part which said, that he and his friends were embroiling the nation in blood, and raising a new war, and that he was an enemy to the king, &c. those of the bench lifted up their hands. He then stretching out his arms, said, ‘I am the man whom that charge is against; but I am as innocent as a child concerning the charge, and have never learned any war postures. Do you think, that if I and my friends had been such men as the charge declares, that I would have brought it up myself against myself? Or that I should have been suffered to come up with only one or two of my friends with me? For had I been such a man as this charge sets forth, I had need to have been guarded up with a troop or two of horse: but the sheriff and magistrates of Lancashire had thought fit to let me and my friends come up by ourselves, almost two hundred miles, without any guard at all, which we may be sure they would not have done, if they had looked upon me to be such a man.’ Then the judge asked him, whether it should be filed, or what he would do with it? And he answered, ‘Ye are judges, and able, I hope, to judge in this matter: therefore do with it what ye will.’ The judges said, they did not accuse him, for they had nothing against him. Whereupon esquire Marsh stood up and told the judges, it was the king’s pleasure, that G. Fox should be set at liberty, seeing no accuser came against him. Then they asked him, whether he would put it to the king and council? He answered, ‘Yes, with a good will.’ Thereupon they sent the sheriff’s return, which he made to the writ of habeas corpus, to the king, and the return was thus:

The king upon perusal of this, and consideration of the whole matter, being satisfied of G. Fox’s innocency, commanded his secretary to send the following order to judge Mallet for his release:

When this order was delivered to judge Mallet, he forthwith sent his warrant to the marshal of the King’s Bench, for G. Fox’s release: which warrant was thus:

G. Fox having been prisoner now above twenty weeks, was thus very honourably set at liberty by the king’s command. After it was known that he was discharged, several that were envious and wicked, were troubled, and terror seized on justice Porter; for he was afraid G. Fox would take the advantage of the law against him, for his wrong imprisonment, and thereby undo him: and indeed G. Fox was put on by some in authority, to have made him and the rest examples. But he said, he should leave them to the Lord; if the Lord did forgive them, he should not trouble himself with them.

About this time, Richard Hubberthorn got an opportunity to speak with the king, and to have a long discourse with him, which soon after he published in print. Being admitted into the king’s presence, he gave him a relation of the state of his friends, and said,

Other things were spoken concerning the liberty of the servants of the Lord, who were called of him into his service, that to them there was no limitation to parishes or places, but as the Lord did guide them in his work and service by his spirit.

So the king promised that we should not any ways suffer for our opinion or religion; and so in love passed away.

The king having promised Richard Hubberthorn over and again, that his friends should not suffer for their opinion, or religion, they parted in love. But though the king seemed a good-natured prince, yet he was so misled, that in process of time he seemed to have forgot what he so solemnly promised on the word of a king.

Now in this discourse mention being made of Rome, &c. I will say by the bye, that one John Perrot and John Love being come to Leghorn in Italy, and having been examined there by the inquisition, they answered so well that they were dismissed. Being come afterwards to Venice, Perrot was admitted to the doge, or duke, in his palace, spoke with him, and gave him some books: and from thence he went with his fellow-traveller to Rome. Here they bore testimony against the idolatry committed there, in such a public manner, that they were taken into custody. John Love died in the prison of the inquisition; and though it was divulged, that he had fasted to death, yet some nuns have told that he was despatched in the night, for fear he should annoy the church of Rome. However it was, he died in sincerity of heart, and so was more happy than Perrot, who though then perhaps he was in a pretty good frame of mind, yet afterwards turned an eminent apostate, having continued prisoner at Rome a great while, and at length got his liberty. He was a man of great natural parts, but, not continuing in true humility, ran out into exorbitant imaginations, of which more may be said hereafter. About this time Samuel Fisher and John Stubbs were also at Rome, where they spoke with some of the cardinals, and testified against the popish superstition. They also spread some books amongst the friars, some of whom confessed the contents thereof to be truth: but, said they, if we should acknowledge this publicly, we might expect to be burnt for it. Notwithstanding Fisher and Stubbs went free, and returned unmolested.

The case of Mary Fisher, a maiden, and one of the first Quakers, so called, that came into New England, as hath been mentioned before, I cannot pass by in silence. She being come to Smyrna, to go from thence to Adrianople, was stopt by the English consul, and sent back to Venice, from whence she came by another way to Adrianople, at the time that Sultan Mahomet the fourth was encamped with his army near the said town. She went alone to the camp, and got somebody to go to the tent of the grand vizier, to tell him that an English woman was come who had something to declare from the great God to the Sultan. The vizier sent word, that next morning he should procure her an opportunity for that purpose. Then she returned to the town, and repaired next morning to the camp again, where being come, she was brought before the sultan, who had his great men about him, in such a manner as he was used to admit ambassadors. He asked by his interpreters, whereof there were three with him, whether it was true what had been told him, that she had something to say to him from the Lord God? She answered, ‘Yea.’ Then he bade her speak on: and she not being forward, weightily pondering what she might say, and he supposing that she might be fearful to utter her mind before them all, asked her, whether she desired that any might go aside, before she spoke? She answered, ‘No.’ He then bade her speak the word of the Lord to them, and not to fear, for they had good hearts, and could hear it. He also charged her, to speak the word she had to say from the Lord, neither more nor less, for they were willing to hear it, be it what it would. Then she spoke what was upon her mind.

The Turks hearkened to her with much attention and gravity, till she had done; and then the sultan asking her whether she had any thing more to say? She asked him, whether he understood what she said? And he answered, ‘Yes, every word,’ and further said, that what she had spoken was truth. Then he desired her to stay in that country, saying, that they could not but respect such an one, as should take so much pains to come to them so far as from England, with a message from the Lord God. He also proffered her a guard to bring her into Constantinople, whither she intended. But she not accepting this offer, he told her it was dangerous travelling, especially for such an one as she; and wondered that she had passed so safe so far as she had: saying also, it was in respect to her, and kindness that he proffered it, and that he would not for any thing she should come to the least hurt in his dominions. She having no more to say, the Turks asked her, what she thought of their prophet Mahomet? She answered warily that she knew him not; but Christ, the true prophet, the Son of God, who was the light of the world, and enlightened every man coming into the world, him she knew. And concerning Mahomet she said, that they might judge of him to be true or false, according to the words and prophecies he spoke; saying further, ‘If the word that a prophet speaketh, come to pass, then shall ye know that the Lord hath sent that prophet; but if it come not to pass, then shall ye know that the Lord never sent him.’ The Turks confessed this to be true; and Mary having performed her message, departed from the camp to Constantinople, without a guard, whither she came without the least hurt or scoff. And so she returned safe to England.

Concerning Catharine Evans, and Sarah Cheevers, two women, who at this time lay in the prison of the inquisition at Malta, and were not released till after three years confinement, where they suffered most grievous hardships; I intend to speak hereafter, when I come to the time of their deliverance; and then I propose to make a large and very remarkable description concerning it.

In the meanwhile I return to the affairs of England, where the government now was quite altered. Many of the late king’s judges were now hanged and quartered: among those was also colonel Francis Hacker, of whom, about six years before this time, it hath been said that he took George Fox prisoner. But he now himself was in prison, and impeached not only as one of those that kept the king prisoner, but also that he signed the warrant for the king’s execution, and had conducted him to the scaffold. To all which, and more, he said little, but that what he did, was by order of his superiors; and that he had endeavoured to serve his country. But this did not avail him, for he was condemned for high treason, and hanged and quartered in October. A day or two before his death Margaret Fell visited him in prison; and when he was put in mind of what formerly he had done against the innocent, he remembered it, and said, he knew well whom she meant, and had trouble upon him for it. For G. Fox, (who had compared him to Pilate,) bade him, when the day of his misery and trial should come upon him, to remember what he said to him. And as Hacker’s son-in-law, Needham, then did not stick to say, that it was time to have G. Fox cut off, so it came to be the lot of Hacker himself to be cut off at Tyburn, where he was hanged. Such now was the end of many, who were not only guilty of the king’s death, and the putting to death of others who were for king Charles the Second, but had also transgressed against God by persecuting godly people. They had been often warned, and several times told that God would hear the cries of the widows and fatherless, that had been cruelly oppressed by them; and as they had made spoil of the goods of those whom in scorn they called Quakers, so now fear and quaking was brought upon them, and their estates became a spoil to others. How plainly E. Burrough had foretold this, hath been said before; and not to mention others, I will only say, that one Robert Huntington came once into the steeple-house at Brough, near Carlisle, with a white sheet about him, and a halter about his neck, to show the Presbyterians and Independents there, that the surplice was to be introduced again, and that some of them should not escape the halter. Now how mad soever this was said to be, yet time showed it a presage of the impending disaster of the cruel persecutors: for when king Charles had ascended the throne, his most fierce enemies were despatched out of the way.

The parliament sitting at this time, some of those called Quakers were admitted to appear in the House of Lords, where they gave reasons why they should not frequent the public worship, nor swear, nor pay tithes; and they were heard with moderation. The king also about this time showed himself moderate; for being solicited by some, and more especially by Margaret Fell, he set at liberty about seven hundred of the people called Quakers, who had been imprisoned under the government of Oliver and Richard Cromwell. This passed the easier, because those that were now at the helm, had also suffered under the former government: there seemed likewise some inclination to give liberty of conscience; but there being among those that were now in authority, some also of a malicious temper, they always found means to hinder this good work; and it just now fell out so that something started up, which put a stop to the giving such a liberty as aforesaid; though it was advanced so far, that an order was drawn up for permitting the Quakers the free exercise of their worship; only the signing and seal to it was wanting, when all on a sudden the Fifth Monarchy-men made an insurrection. There was at that time a great number of this turbulent people in England; who, perceiving that their exorbitant opinion was inconsistent with kingly government, which now had taken place, thought it not meet for their cause to sit still while the government, which was yet but new, should be fully settled and established. Perhaps they had also some intent to free some of the late king’s judges, who were imprisoned; for among these was also sir Henry Vane, who having been one of the chief of the commonwealth party, was likewise said to be one of the heads of the Fifth Monarchy-men. It was in the night when these people made a rising; which caused such a stir, that the king’s soldiers sounded an alarm by the beating of drums.

The train-bands appeared in arms, and all was in an uproar, and both the mob and soldiers committed great insolences for several days; so that the Quakers, though altogether innocent, became the object of the fury of their enemies, and many were hauled to prison out of their peaceable meetings.

At that time George Fox was at London, and being lodged in Pall-mall, at night a company of troopers came, and knocked at the door where he was; which being opened, they rushed into the house, and laid hold on him. One of these that had formerly served under the parliament, clapped his hand to G. Fox’s pocket, and asked, whether he had any pistol? G. Fox told him, he knew he did not use to carry pistols, why then did he ask such a question of him, whom he knew to be a peaceable man? Others of these fellows ran up into the chambers, and there found esquire Marsh, before mentioned, in bed, who though he was one of the king’s bed-chamber, yet out of love to G. Fox, came and lodged where he did. When the troopers came down again, they said, ‘Why should we take this man away with us? We will let him alone.’ ‘Oh,’ said the parliament soldier, ‘he is one of the heads, and a chief ringleader.’ Upon this the soldiers were taking him away. But esquire Marsh hearing of it, sent for him that commanded the party, and desired him to let G. Fox alone, since he would see him forthcoming in the morning, and then they might take him. Early in the morning there came a company of foot to the house; and one of them drawing his sword, held it over G. Fox’s head, which made him ask, wherefore he drew his sword at a naked man? At which his fellows being ashamed, bid him put up his sword: and sometime after they brought him to Whitehall, before the troopers came for him. As he was going out, he saw several of his friends going to the meeting, it being then the First day of the week; and he intended to have gone thither himself, if he had not been stopped: but now it being out of his power to keep them company, he commended their boldness, and encouraged them to persevere therein. When he was come to Whitehall, seeing the soldiers and people were exceeding rude, he began to exhort them to godliness. But some great persons coming by, who were envious to him, said, ‘What, do you let him preach? Put him into such a place, where he may not stir.’ So he was put into that place, and the soldiers watched over him; but G. Fox told them, though they could confine his body, and shut that up, yet the word of life they could not stop. Some then asked him, what he was? He told them he was a preacher of righteousness. After he had been kept there two or three hours, esquire Marsh spoke to the lord Gerard, who came, and bid them set G. Fox at liberty. When he was discharged, the marshal demanded fees. G. Fox told him he could not give him any: and he asked him, how he could demand fees of him who was innocent? Nevertheless he told him, that in his own freedom, he would give them two-pence, to make him and the soldiers drink. But they shouted at that, which made him say, if they would not accept it, they might choose; for he should not give them fees. Then he went through the guards, and came to an inn, where several of his friends at that time were prisoners under a guard, and about night he went to the house of one of his friends.

This insurrection of the Fifth-Monarchy-men, caused great disturbance in the nation; and though the Quakers did not at all meddle with those boisterous people, yet they fell under great sufferings because of them; and both men and women were dragged out of their houses to prison, and some sick men off their beds by the legs; among which was one Thomas Pachyn, who being in a fever, was dragged by the soldiers out of his bed to prison, where he died.

This persecution going on throughout the nation, Margaret Fell went to the king, and gave him an account how her friends, that were in nowise concerned in the said insurrection and riots, were treated; for several thousands of them were cast into prison. The king and council wondered how they could have such intelligence, since strict charge was given for the intercepting of all letters, so that none could pass unsearched. But notwithstanding this, so much was heard of the numbers of the imprisoned, that Margaret Fell went a second time to the king and council, and acquainted them of the grievous sufferings of her friends. G. Fox then wrote a letter of consolation to his suffering friends; and also published in print a declaration against all seditions, plotters, and fighters, wherein he manifested, that they were an harmless people, that denied wars and fightings, and could not make use of the outward sword, or other carnal weapons. This declaration was presented to the king and his council, and was of such effect, that the king gave forth a proclamation, that no soldiers should go to search any house, but with a constable. When afterwards some of the Fifth-Monarchy-men were put to death because of their insurrection, they did the Quakers, so called, that right, that they cleared them openly from having an hand in, or knowledge of their plot. This and other evidences caused the king, being continually importuned thereunto, to issue forth a declaration, that the Quakers should be set at liberty without paying fees.

Many of the Presbyterian preachers now temporized, and for keeping their benefices, joined with the Episcopalians, and did not stick to put on the surplice. But this gave occasion to many of their hearers to leave them, and join with the Quakers, so called, who could not comply with the times. Others, who were a little more steadfast, made use of their money to get liberty, though under the government of Cromwell they would permit no liberty of conscience to others; insomuch that one Hewes, an eminent priest at Plymouth in Oliver’s days, when some liberty was granted, prayed that God would put it into the hearts of the chief magistrates of the nation, to remove this cursed toleration. But this Hewes, after the king was come in, being asked by one, whether he would account toleration accursed now, answered only by shaking his head.

Now though many of the Quakers, as hath been said, were released from prison, yet they suffered exceedingly in their religious assemblies. Once a company of Irishmen came to Pall-mall, when G. Fox was there; but the meeting was already broke up; and he being gone up into a chamber, heard one of those rude persons, who was a colonel, say, he would kill all the Quakers. Whereupon G. Fox came down, and told him, ‘The law said, an eye for an eye, and a tooth for a tooth; but thou threatenest to kill all the Quakers, though they have done thee no hurt:’ but said he further, ‘Here is gospel for thee: here’s my hair, here’s my cheek, and here’s my shoulder,’ turning it to him. This so surprised the colonel, that he and his companions stood amazed, and said, ‘If this be your principle as you say, we never saw the like in our lives.’ To which G. Fox said, ‘What I am in words I am the same in life.’ Then the colonel carried himself lovingly; though a certain ambassador who stood without and then came in, said, that this Irish colonel was such a desperate man, that he durst not come in with him, for fear he should have done great mischief.

Notwithstanding such like rude encounters, yet by the change of the government, some stop was put to the fierce current of persecution; for the king being but newly settled on the throne, showed yet an inclination to lenity. But this quiet did not last long, and was but a time of respiration: for the churchmen, instigated, as it seems very probable, by the favourers of popery, continued envious, and staid but for an opportunity to show their malice. An instance of which hath been seen already on the insurrection of the Fifth-Monarchy-men, and in the sequel will be seen much clearer: since, though they did not seem to persecute for conscience-sake, yet under a colour of justice, laws were made use of, that had formerly been enacted for the suppression of popery, and to secure the kingdom against Jesuits, and other traiterous Papists; these being the laws, of which G. Fox in his letter to the king had said, that they held up persecution about religion.

That it may be known what laws those were, and that it may also appear what an unreasonable use hath been made thereof, I shall here set them down, or abstracts of them; that so it may be more plainly seen, what awkward means have been made use of, and how sinistrously the laws were executed. Sometimes I may interweave among these abstracts, some observations, or an account of a case, which, though not placed in due time, may yet be serviceable to give a true notion of things. I now repair to those laws.

In the 27th year of king Henry the eighth, a law was made for payment of tithes: for that king having either given or sold many chapels and abbeys to laymen, those laymen had no right, as priests claimed to have, to summon to ecclesiastical courts those that failed in paying of tithes. But for this a law was provided, by virtue of which, a judge of an ecclesiastical court might be helpful to laymen, and in that law it was said,

By this law, which is pretended to be still in force, many honest people have suffered, and been kept very long in prison; for they refusing to find surety for the payment of tithes, which for conscience-sake they could not give to such ministers who lived from a forced maintenance, and did not, as they judged, profit the people; it was in the power of the priests to detain them prisoners, till the pretended debt was paid; which the persecuted judged so unreasonable, that some have therefore continued in prison for many years, choosing rather to die in jail, than to uphold such preachers, by paying tithes to them. And the Quakers, so called, have never offered resistance, but suffering and forbearance have always been their arms, though they were almost continually vexed with laws that were never made against them; and more especially were they molested with the oath of supremacy, which was made in the beginning of the reign of queen Elizabeth, though, it may be, projected in the time of Henry the eighth, which runs thus:

In the first year of queen Elizabeth, an act was made for uniformity of common-prayer, and church-service, having this clause:

Here is to be noted, that some have prosecuted the pretended offenders on this clause, to obviate greater severities; although this law was made because of the Papists, thereby to force them to come to church; for about that time there were not so many Protestant Dissenters in England, as afterwards; but these appearing in time, were as well under the lash of this law as the Papists; for their religious assemblies were not reckoned to be churches as the steeple-houses by a metonymy generally have been called; at the same rate as the Jews’ meeting-houses have been called synagogues, though the word itself properly signifies the assembly of the people.

Now, since the aforesaid law was not strictly obeyed, not only by Papists, but also by others, who aiming at a further reformation, could not longer comply with the rites of the church of England, in the 23d year of Elizabeth, a more severe law was made, with this clause:

This law it seems was not thought severe enough; therefore in the 29th year of the said queen, another law was made with this clause: