THE SIXTH BOOK. 1661-1664.

1661.

The year 1661 being come, the government was altogether changed. Charles the Second was now seated on the throne of England in peace, and the power of persecution seemed somewhat restrained; so that there was an appearance of some quiet and calm. Therefore I will now take a turn to New England, to draw back the curtains of the bloody stage at Boston. We have already seen in the foregoing relation, how William Robinson, Marmaduke Stevenson, and Mary Dyar, were put to death by their persecutors, but their blood-thirstiness was not yet quenched.

William Leddra, who was banished from Boston on pain of death, was under such necessity of conscience, that he could not forbear returning thither; where he came about the conclusion of the foregoing year; but was soon taken prisoner, and being fastened to a log of wood, was kept night and day locked in chains, in an open prison, during a very cold winter; where we will leave him for the present, and in the meanwhile insert here an apology of the Boston persecutors concerning their cruel carriage, which may serve to confirm the truth of what hath been already related of their wicked dealings. For it seems, that fearing their bloody deeds would be disapproved by the court of England, they thought it safest for them to gild their transactions with a specious pretence; though this was of no other effect than that thereby they yet more exposed their own shame to public view, and in process of time they also incurred the King’s displeasure; for though Charles the Second was inclined to voluptuousness, yet he was good-natured, and the persecution in his reign proceeded chiefly from the instigation of other malicious men. But to come to the apology or declaration of the bloody persecutors, it was as followeth:

‘Although the justice of our proceedings against Wm. Robinson, Marmaduke Stevenson, and Mary Dyar, supported by the authority of this court, the laws of this country, and the law of God, may rather persuade us to expect encouragement and commendation from all prudent and pious men, than convince us of any necessity to apologize for the same: yet for as much as men of weaker parts, out of pity and commiseration, a commendable and Christian virtue, yet easily abused, and susceptible of sinister and dangerous impressions, for want of a full information, may be less satisfied; and men of perverser principles, led to calumniate us, and render us as bloody persecutors; to satisfy the one, and stop the mouths of the other, we thought it requisite to declare, about three years since, divers persons professing themselves Quakers, (of whose pernicious opinions and practices we had received intelligence from good hands from Barbadoes and England,) arrived at Boston, whose persons where only secured to be sent away the first opportunity, without censure or punishment, although their professed tenets, turbulent and contemptuous behaviour to authority, would have justified a severer animadversion; yet the prudence of this court was exercised, only in making provision to secure the peace and order here established, against their attempts, whose design, (we were well assured by our own experience, as well as by the example of their predecessors in Munster,) was to undermine and ruin the same.

‘And accordingly a law was made and published, prohibiting all masters of ships, to bring any Quakers into this jurisdiction, and themselves from coming in on penalty of the house of correction, till they should be sent away. Notwithstanding which, by a back door they found entrance, and the penalty inflicted on themselves proving insufficient to restrain their impudent and insolent obtrusions, was increased by the loss of the ears of those who offended the second time; which also being too weak a defence against their impetuous frantic fury, necessitated us to endeavour our security; and upon serious consideration, after the former experiments by their incessant assaults, a law was made, that such persons should be banished upon pain of death, according to the example of England, in their provision against Jesuits; which sentence being regularly pronounced at the last court of assistants, against the parties above named, and they either returning, or continuing presumptuously in this jurisdiction after the time limited, were apprehended, and owning themselves to be the persons banished, were sentenced by the court to death, according to the law aforesaid, which hath been executed upon two of them. Mary Dyar, (upon petition of her son, and the mercy and clemency of this court,) had liberty to depart within two days; which she hath accepted of. The consideration of our gradual proceeding will vindicate us from the clamorous accusations of severity, our own just and necessary defence calling upon us, (other means failing,) to offer the point, which these persons have violently and wilfully rushed upon, and thereby become felons de se; which, might it have been prevented, and the sovereign law, salus populi, been preserved, our former proceedings, as well as the sparing Mary Dyar upon an inconsiderable intercession, will manifestly evince, that we desire their lives absent, rather than their deaths present.

EDWARD RAWSON, Secretary.’

In this apology, wherein the Quakers, (who always were an harmless people, and never made resistance with outward arms,) are compared to the mutinous and riotous Anabaptists of Munster, it is also said of them, that by a back door they found entrance. And this reflects on some who unexpectedly came into New England by land, since they could find no opportunity to come by sea, because the ship-masters fearing the severity of the Boston laws, were unwilling to carry any Quakers thither. This gave occasion to Thomas Thirstone, (who having been already at Boston, was sent away on board a ship,) to think on other means; for finding himself moved in spirit to go thither again, he and Josiah Cole, of whom mention hath been made before, and who may be further spoken of hereafter, went from England to Virginia, from whence they, with one Thomas Chapman, travelled several hundreds of miles on foot through vast wildernesses and woods, and so at length came into New England, which made the persecutors there astonished; for they thought this impossible, that way having been counted impassable for other men than the Indians, many of whom in those parts are warlike men, who behaved themselves well toward our travellers, whose journey however was very hard; for they had not only hunger and cold, it being winter time, to encounter with, but they were also in danger of being devoured by wild beasts, or of perishing in unknown marshes or bogs. But they were preserved by an Almighty hand; though this marvellous passage was represented like a criminal sauciness, by these New England persecutors.

It seems to me that the aforesaid apology, which was published in print, and likewise answered, was given forth before Mary Dyar was put to death; but after her death the general court of Boston sent over an address to king Charles the Second, signed by their governor John Endicot, to justify their cruel proceedings. Herein they said, that they had chosen rather the pure Scripture worship, with a good conscience, in that remote wilderness among the heathen, than the pleasures of England, with subjection to the imposition of the then so disposed, and so far prevailing hierarchy, which they could not do without an evil conscience.

Concerning the Quakers, they said, that they were open capital blasphemers, and seducers from the glorious Trinity, the Lord Christ, the blessed gospel; open enemies to the government itself; and malignant promoters of doctrines directly tending to subvert both church and state.

Moreover they said, that at last they had been constrained for their own safety, to pass a sentence of banishment against them on pain of death, since the magistrate in conscience judged himself called for the defence of all to keep the passage with the point of the sword held towards them; and that this could do no harm to them that would be warned thereby. But the Quakers rushing themselves thereupon was their own act, and a crime, bringing their blood upon their own heads.

Could they have made the king believe this, they would willingly have done it; but he had too much sense to be thus imposed upon, though they did whatever they could to prevent his hearing the other party, in order whereunto they said, ‘Let not the king hear men’s words; your servants are true men, fearers of God and the king, and not given to change, zealous of government and order; not seditious to the interest of Cæsar.’

How smooth and plausible soever this seemed, yet it could not stand the test; and E. Burrough, who answered it in print, addressed the king thus:

‘O king, this my occasion to present thee with these considerations is very urgent, and of great necessity, even in the behalf of innocent blood, hoping that my work will find such favour with thee, as to induce thee to the reading and serious consideration thereof.’

E. Burrough then examining all their pretended reasons, represented also to the king how some of these petitioners some time before had not stuck to write in a letter from Boston to one Gordon: ‘There is more danger in these Quakers, to trouble and overcome England, than in the king of Scots, and all the popish princes in Germany;’ which plainly denoted, that they reputed the king a troubler of England, whom they numbered with the popish princes of Germany. What E. Burrough obtained of the king for his friends, we may see hereafter.

But first I return to William Leddra, whom I left in prison: it was on the 9th of the First month of this year, that he was brought into the court of assistants, with his chains and log at his heels. And he asking the jailer, when he intended to take off the irons from his legs, the jailer roughly answered, ‘When thou art going to be hanged.’ W. Leddra then being brought to the bar, it was told him by the rulers, speaking of their law, that he was found guilty, and so, that he was to die. He said, ‘What evil have I done?’ The answer was, his own confession was as good as a thousand witnesses. He asked, what that was? To which they answered, that he owned these Quakers that were put to death, and that they were innocent. Besides, that he would not put off his hat in court, and that he said thee and thou. Then said William to them, ‘You will put me to death for speaking English, and for not putting off my clothes?’ To this major-general Denison returned, ‘A man may speak treason in English.’ And William replied, ‘Is it treason to say thee and thou to a single person?’ But none answered, only Simon Broadstreet, one of the court, asked him, whether he would go for England? To which he answered, ‘I have no business there.’ Hereupon Broadstreet, pointing to the gallows, said, ‘Then you shall go that way.’ To which William returned, ‘What, will ye put me to death for breathing in the air in your jurisdiction? And for what you have against me I appeal to the laws of England for my trial; and if by them I am guilty, I refuse not to die.’ Of this no notice was taken, but instead thereof, they endeavoured to persuade him to recant of his error, (as they styled it,) and to conform; to which with a grave magnanimity he answered, ‘What! to join with such murderers as you are? Then let every man that meets me say, lo this is the man that hath forsaken the God of his salvation.’

Whilst the trial of W. Leddra was thus going on, Wenlock Christison, who was already banished upon pain of death, came into the court. This struck a damp upon them, insomuch that for some space of time there was silence in the court: but at length one of the bloody council cried, ‘Here is another, fetch him up to the bar,’ Which the marshal performing, the secretary Rawson said, ‘Is not your name Wenlock Christison?’ ‘Yea,’ said Wenlock. ‘Well,’ said the governor, John Endicot, ‘what dost thou here? Wast thou not banished upon pain of death?’ To which Wenlock answered, ‘Yea, I was.’ And to the question, ‘What dost thou here then?’ he answered, ‘I am come here to warn you that you should shed no more innocent blood; for the blood that you have shed already, cries to the Lord God for vengeance to come upon you.’ Whereupon it was said, ‘Take him away, jailer.’

It having been told W. Leddra, that at the last general court he had liberty given him to go for England, or to go out of their jurisdiction; and that promising to do so, and come there no more, he might save his life; he answered, ‘I stand not in my own will, but in the will of the Lord: if I may have my freedom, I shall go, but to make you a promise I cannot.’ But this was so far from giving content, that they proceeded to pronounce sentence of death against him; which being done, he was led from the court to prison again, where the day before his death he wrote the following letter to his friends:

Most dear and inwardly beloved,

‘The sweet influences of the morning star, like a flood distilling into my innocent habitation, hath so filled me with the joy of the Lord in the beauty of holiness, that my spirit is as if it did not inhabit a tabernacle of clay, but is wholly swallowed up in the bosom of eternity, from whence it had its being.

‘Alas, alas, what can the wrath and spirit of man, that lusteth to envy, aggravated by the heat and strength of the king of the locusts, which came out of the pit, do unto one that is hid in the secret places of the Almighty, or unto them that are gathered under the healing wings of the Prince of Peace? under whose armour of light they shall be able to stand in the day of trial, having on the breastplate of righteousness, and the sword of the spirit, which is their weapon of war against spiritual wickedness, principalities, and powers, and the rulers of the darkness of this world, both within and without. Oh, my beloved! I have waited as a dove at the windows of the ark, and have stood still in that watch, which the Master, (without whom I could do nothing,) did at his coming reward with fulness of his love, wherein my heart did rejoice, that I might in the love and life of God speak a few words to you sealed with the spirit of promise, that the taste thereof might be a savour of life, to your life, and a testimony in you of my innocent death: and if I had been altogether silent, and the Lord had not opened my mouth unto you, yet he would have opened your hearts, and there have sealed my innocency with the streams of life, by which we are all baptized into that body which is in God, whom and in whose presence there is life; in which, as you abide, you stand upon the pillar and ground of truth; for, the life being the truth and the way, go not one step without it, lest you should compass a mountain in the wilderness; for unto every thing there is a season.

‘As the flowing of the ocean doth fill every creek and branch thereof, and then retires again towards its own being and fulness, and leaves a savour behind it, so doth the life and virtue of God flow into every one of your hearts, whom he hath made partakers of his divine nature; and when it withdraws but a little, it leaves a sweet savour behind it, that many can say, they are made clean through the word that he hath spoken to them: in which innocent condition you may see what you are in the presence of God, and what you are without him. Therefore, my dear hearts, let the enjoyment of the life alone be your hope, your joy and consolation, and let the man of God flee those things that would lead the mind out of the cross, for then the savour of the life will be buried: and although some may speak of things that they received in the life, as experiences, yet the life being veiled, and the savour that is left behind washed away by the fresh floods of temptation, the condition that they did enjoy in the life, boasted of by the airy thing, will be like the manna that was gathered yesterday, without any good scent or savour. For, it was only well with the man while he was in the life of innocency; but being driven from the presence of the Lord into the earth, what can he boast of? And although you know these things, and many of you, much more than I can say; yet, for the love and zeal I bear to the truth and honour of God, and tender desire of my soul to those that are young, that they may read me in that from which I write, to strengthen them against the wiles of the subtil serpent that beguiled Eve, I say, stand in the watch within, in the fear of the Lord, which is the very entrance of wisdom, and the state where you are ready to receive the secrets of the Lord: hunger and thirst patiently, be not weary, neither doubt. Stand still, and cease from thy own working, and in due time thou shalt enter into the rest, and thy eyes shall behold his salvation, whose testimonies are sure and righteous altogether: let them be as a seal upon thine arm, and as jewels about thy neck, that others may see what the Lord hath done for your souls: confess him before men, yea, before his greatest enemies; fear not what they can do unto you: greater is he that is in you, than he that is in the world: for he will clothe you with humility, and in the power of his meekness you shall reign over all the rage of your enemies in the favour of God; wherein, as you stand in faith, ye are the salt of the earth; for, many seeing your good works, may glorify God in the day of their visitation.

‘Take heed of receiving that which you saw not in the light, lest you give ear to the enemy. Bring all things to the light, that they may be proved, whether they be wrought in God; the love of the world, the lust of the flesh, and the lust of the eye, are without the light, in the world; therefore possess your vessels in all sanctification and honour, and let your eye look at the mark: he that hath called you is holy: and if there be an eye that offends, pluck it out, and cast it from you: let not a temptation take hold, for if you do, it will keep from the favour of God, and that will be a sad state; for, without grace possessed, there is no assurance of salvation: by grace you are saved; and the witnessing of it is sufficient for you, to which I commend you all my dear friends, and in it remain,

Your brother,
WILLIAM LEDDRA.’

Boston Jail, the 13th of the First Month, 1660-61.

The day before he suffered.


The next day after this letter was written, the execution of W. Leddra was performed, which was on the 14th of the First month. After the lecture was ended, the governor, John Endicot, came with a guard of soldiers to the prison, where W. Leddra’s irons were taken off, with which he had been chained to a log both night and day during a cold winter; and now they were knocked off, according to what the jailer once said, as hath been related before. William then having taken his leave of Wenlock Christison, and others then in bonds, when called, went forth to the slaughter, encompassed with a guard to prevent his speaking to his friends; which Edward Wharton an inhabitant of Salem, and also banished on pain of death, seeing, and speaking against, one amongst the company said, ‘O Edward it will be your turn next!’ To which Captain Oliver added, ‘if you speak a word, I’ll stop your mouth.’ Then W. Leddra being brought to the foot of the ladder, was pinioned, and as he was about to ascend the same, he took leave of his friend, E. Wharton, to whom he said, ‘All that will be Christs’s disciples, must take up the cross.’ He standing upon the ladder, somebody said, ‘William, have you any thing to say to the people?’ Thereupon he spoke thus, ‘For the testimony of Jesus, and for testifying against deceivers, and the deceived, I am brought here to suffer.’ This took so much with the people, that it wrought a tenderness in many. But to quench this, priest Allen said to the spectators, ‘People, I would not have you think it strange to see a man so willing to die; for that’s no new thing. And you may read how the apostle said, that some should be given up to strong delusions, and even dare to die for it.’ But he did not say where the apostle speaks so, neither have I found it any where in the holy writ; though I know that Paul saith, Rom. v. 7. “Peradventure for a good man some would even dare to die.” But it seems it was sufficient for Allen, if he could but render Leddra odious: who however continued cheerful: for as the executioner was putting the halter about his neck, he was heard to say, ‘I commit my righteous cause unto thee, O God.’ The executioner then being charged to make haste, W. Leddra, at the turning of the ladder, cried, ‘Lord Jesus receive my spirit;’ and so he was turned off, and finished his days. The hangman cut down the dead body, and lest it should be so barbarously used as those of William Robinson and Marmaduke Stevenson, (which none holding when cut down, fell to the ground to the breaking of W. Robinson’s skull,) Edward Wharton, John Chamberlain, and others, caught the body in their arms and laid it on the ground, till the hangman had stript it of its clothes; who having done so, said, that he was a comely man, as indeed he was. The body being stript, William’s friends took it, laid it in a coffin, and buried it. For further confirmation of what hath been related, the following letter of one of the spectators, that was there accidentally, may be added:

Boston, March 26, 1661.

‘On the 14th of this instant, there was one William Leddra, who was put to death. The people of the town told me, he might go away if he would; but when I made further inquiry, I heard the marshal say, that he was chained in prison, from the time he was condemned, to the day of his execution. I am not of his opinion: but yet truly methought the Lord did mightily appear in the man. I went to one of the magistrates of Cambridge, who had been of the jury that condemned him, as he told me himself, and I asked him by what rule he did it? He answered me that he was a rogue, a very rogue. But what is this to the question, I said, where is your rule? He said, he had abused authority. Then I goes after the man, and asked him, whether he did not look on it as a breach of rule to slight and undervalue authority? And I said that Paul gave Festus the title of honour, though he was a heathen. (I do not say that these magistrates are heathens) I said. Then, when the man was on the ladder, he looked on me, and called me friend, and said, know that this day I am willing to offer up my life for the witness of Jesus. Then I desired leave of the officers to speak, and said, Gentlemen, I am a stranger both to your persons and country, and yet a friend to both: and I cried aloud, for the Lord’s sake, take not away the man’s life; but remember Gamaliel’s council to the Jews. If this be of man it will come to nought, but if it be of God, ye cannot overthrow it: but be careful ye be not found fighters against God. And the captain said, why had you not come to the prison? The reason was, because I heard the man might go if he would; and therefore I called him down from the tree, and said, come down, William, you may go away if you will. Then captain Oliver said, it was no such matter; and asked, what I had to do with it? And besides, bade me be gone: and I told them, I was willing; for I cannot endure to see this, I said. And when I was in the town, some did seem to sympathise with me in my grief. But I told them, that they had no warrant from the word of God, nor precedent from our country, nor power from his majesty to hang the man. I rest,

Your Friend,
THOMAS WILKIE.’

To Mr. George Lad, master of the America of Dartmouth, now at Barbadoes.

William Leddra being thus despatched, it was resolved to make an end also of Wenlock Christison. He therefore was brought from the prison to the court at Boston, where the governor, John Endicot, and the deputy-governor, Richard Bellingham, being both present, it was told him, ‘Unless you renounce your religion, you shall surely die.’ But instead of shrinking, he said with an undaunted courage, ‘Nay, I shall not change my religion, nor seek to save my life; neither do I intend to deny my master; but if I lose my life for Christ’s sake, and the preaching of the gospel, I shall save my life.’ This noble resolution gave such a check to his persecutors, that they did not then go on with the trial, but sent him away to prison again. And it being said by somebody, that William Leddra was dead, a certain person said to Wenlock, ‘O thy turn is next.’ To which he gravely replied, ‘The will of the Lord be done,’ showing thereby his entire resignation.

Being now locked up again in prison, he was kept there till about the Fourth month: but then the court being set, a spirit of confusion appeared there, and a division among several of the members; for though the greatest part were for taking the same course with him as with those that were already put to death, yet several would not consent to it. And as natural occurrences sometimes cause reflections among observing people, so it happened here; for during their deliberations how to deal with Wenlock Christison, which lasted for the space of two weeks, the sun in the firmament shone not, a thing at that season somewhat extraordinary; which gave occasion for some to say that the sun abhorring this bloody business, hid itself from them. But after many debates, the sanguinary council at length agreed, and Wenlock was brought to the bar, where the governor, John Endicot, asked him, what he had to say for himself, why he should not die? He answered, ‘I have done nothing worthy of death; if I have I refuse not to die.’ To this another said, ‘Thou art come in among us in rebellion, which is as the sin of witchcraft, and ought to be punished.’ Hence it appears how perversely these blood-thirsty persecutors applied the Holy Scriptures to their cruel ends, and so made a wrong use of the prophet Samuel’s words to Saul; to which false conclusion Wenlock answered, ‘I came not in among you in rebellion, but in obedience to the God of heaven, not in contempt to any of you, but in love to your souls and bodies; and that you shall know one day, when you and all men must give an account of the deeds done in the body. Take heed, (thus he went on,) for you cannot escape the righteous judgments of God.’ Then said major-general Adderton, ‘You pronounce woes and judgments, and those that are gone before you pronounced woes and judgments; but the judgments of the Lord God are not come upon us as yet.’ So insolent and hard-hearted may man become, as not to stick even to defy the Most High. But before we draw the curtains of this stage, we shall see the tragical end of this Adderton, who now received this answer from Wenlock: ‘Be not proud, neither let your spirits be lifted up: God doth but wait till the measure of your iniquity be filled up, and that you have run your ungodly race; then will the wrath of God come upon you to the uttermost. And as for thy part, it hangs over thy head, and is near to be poured down upon thee, and shall come as a thief in the night suddenly, when thou thinkest not of it.’

Then Wenlock asked, ‘By what law will you put me to death?’ The answer was, ‘We have a law, and by our law you are to die.’ ‘So said the Jews of Christ, (replied Wenlock,) We have a law, and by our law he ought to die. Who empowered you to make that law?’ To which one of the board answered, ‘we have a patent, and are the patentees; judge whether we have not power to make laws.’ Hereupon Wenlock asked again, ‘How! have you power to make laws repugnant to the laws of England?’ ‘No,’ said the governor. ‘Then, (replied Wenlock,) you are gone beyond your bounds, and have forfeited your patent; and that is more than you can answer. Are you, (asked he,) subjects to the king, yea, or nay?’ ‘What good will that do you,’ replied the secretary? ‘If you are, (answered Wenlock,) say so; for in your petition to the king, you desire that he would protect you, and that you may be worthy to kneel amongst his loyal subjects.’ To which one said, ‘Yea, we are so.’ ‘Well, (said Wenlock,) so am I, and for any thing I know, am as good as you, if not better; for if the king did but know your hearts as God knows them, he would see that you are as rotten towards him, as they are towards God. Therefore seeing that you and I are subjects to the king, I demand to be tried by the laws of my own nation.’ It was answered, ‘You shall be tried by a bench and a jury:’ for it seems they began to be afraid to go on in the former course of trial without a jury, this being contrary to the laws of England. But Wenlock said, ‘That is not the law, but the manner of it; for I never heard nor read of any law that was in England to hang Quakers.’ To this the governor replied, that there was a law to hang Jesuits. To which Wenlock returned. ‘If you put me to death, it is not because I go under the name of a Jesuit, but of a Quaker: therefore I appeal to the laws of my own nation.’ But instead of taking notice of this, one said, that he was in their hands, and had broken their law, and they would try him. Wenlock still appealed to the law of his own nation: yet the jury being called over, went out, but quickly returned, and brought him in guilty. Whereupon the secretary said, ‘Wenlock Christison, hold up your hand.’ ‘I will not,’ said Wenlock, ‘I am here and can hear thee.’ Then the secretary cried, ‘Guilty or not guilty?’ ‘I deny all guilt,’ replied Wenlock, ‘for my conscience is clear in the sight of God.’ But the governor said, ‘The jury hath condemned thee.’ Wenlock answered, ‘The Lord doth justify me; who art thou that condemnest?’

They then voted as to the sentence of death, but were in a manner confounded, for several could not vote him guilty of death. The governor seeing this division, said, ‘I could find in my heart to go home:’ being in such a rage, that he flung something furiously on the table; which made Wenlock cry, ‘It were better for thee to be at home than here, for thou art about a bloody piece of work.’ Then the governor put the court to vote again; but this was done confusedly, which so incensed the governor, that he stood up and said, ‘You that will not consent, record it: I thank God I am not afraid to give judgment.’ Thus we see that to be drunk with blood, doth not quench the thirst after blood; for Endicot the governor, seeing others backward to vote, precipitately pronounced judgment himself, and said, ‘Wenlock Christison, hearken to your sentence: You must return to the place from whence you came, and from thence to the place of execution, and there you must be hanged until you are dead, dead, dead.’ To which Wenlock said, ‘The will of the Lord be done, in whose will I came amongst you, and in whose counsel I stand, feeling his eternal power, that will uphold me unto the last gasp.’ Moreover he cried thus: ‘Known be it unto you all, that if ye have power to take my life from me, my soul shall enter into everlasting rest and peace with God, where you yourselves shall never come. And if ye have power to take my life from me, the which I do question, I do believe you shall never more take Quakers’ lives from them: note my words: do not think to weary out the living God, by taking away the lives of his servants. What do you gain by it? for the last man that you have put to death, here are five come in his room. And if ye have power to take my life from me, God can raise up the same principle of life in ten of his servants, and send them among you in my room, that you may have torment upon torment, which is your portion; for there is no peace to the wicked, saith my God.’ The holy confidence with which he uttered these words show, and the sequel made it appear plainly, that something supernatural was contained in them: and it is remarkable, that among the imprisoned Quakers, there were then several that had been banished on pain of death; and among these also Elizabeth Hooton; and Edward Wharton staid in his habitation contrary to his sentence of banishment.

Wenlock having received sentence of death, was brought to prison again, where having been detained five days, the marshal and a constable came to him with an order from the court for his enlargement with twenty-seven more of his friends, then in prison for their testimony to the Truth, saying they were ordered by the court to make him acquainted with their new law. ‘What means this?’ said Wenlock, ‘Have ye a new law?’ ‘Yes,’ said they. ‘Then ye have deceived most people,’ said Wenlock. ‘Why?’ said they. ‘Because,’ said he, ‘they did think the gallows had been your last weapon. Your magistrates said that your law was a good and wholesome law made for your peace, and the safeguard of your country. What, are your hands now become weak? The power of God is over you all.’

Thus the prison doors were opened, and Wenlock, with twenty-seven more of his friends, as aforesaid, set at liberty, save that two of them, viz. Peter Pearson and Judith Brown, being stripped to the waist, and fastened to a cart’s tail, were whipped through the town of Boston with twenty stripes apiece.

Now though not long after an order came from the king, as will be said anon, whereby these persecutors were charged to desist from putting the Quakers to death, yet is seems they had got some scent of the king’s displeasure, who had a mind to stop their bloody career: for having got a book written by George Bishop, containing a relation of the cruel persecution in New England, and reading a passage concerning major-general Denison, who, to put off those that complained of their wicked proceeding, said, ‘This year ye will go to complain to the parliament, and the next year they will send to see how it is; and the third year the government is changed.’ He took much notice of this, and calling to the lords to hear it, said, ‘Lo, these are my good subjects of New England: but I will put a stop to them.’

It was not long before an opportunity was offered; for the news of William Leddra’s death being come into England, with an information of the danger that others were in of going the same way, their friends took it so to heart, especially Edward Burrough, that having got audience of the king, he said to him there was a vein of innocent blood opened in his dominions, which if it were not stopped would overrun all. To which the king replied, ‘But I will stop that vein.’ Then Burrough desired him to do it speedily; ‘for we know not,’ said he, ‘how many may soon be put to death.’ The king answered, ‘As soon as you will. Call, said he to some present, the secretary, and I will do it presently.’ The secretary being come, a mandamus was forthwith granted. A day or two after, going again to the king, to desire despatch of the matter, the king said he had no occasion at present to send a ship thither; but if they would send one, they might do it as soon as they could. E. Burrough then asked the king if it would please him to grant his deputation to one called a Quaker, to carry the mandamus to New England. The king answered, ‘Yes, to whom you will.’ Whereupon E. Burrough named one Samuel Shattock, who being an inhabitant of New England, was banished on pain of death, if ever he returned thither. And the king accordingly granted the deputation to him, with full power to carry the mandamus, which was as followeth:

Charles R.

‘Trusty and well-beloved, we greet you well.—Having been informed that several of our subjects amongst you, called Quakers, have been, and are imprisoned by you, whereof some have been executed, and others, (as hath been represented unto us,) are in danger to undergo the like: we have thought fit to signify our pleasure in that behalf for the future; and do hereby require, that if there be any of those people called Quakers amongst you, now already condemned to suffer death, or other corporal punishment, or that are imprisoned, and obnoxious to the like condemnation, you are to forbear to proceed any further therein; but that you forthwith send the said persons, (whether condemned or imprisoned,) over into this our kingdom of England, together with the respective crimes or offences laid to their charge; to the end that such course may be taken with them here, as shall be agreeable to our laws, and their demerits. And for so doing, these our letters shall be your sufficient warrant and discharge.

‘Given at our court at Whitehall, the 9th day of September, 1661, in the 13th year of our reign.

By his majesty’s command,
WILLIAM MORRIS.’

The superscription was:

To our trusty and well-beloved John Endicot, Esq. and to all and every other the governor, or governors of our plantations of New-England, and of all the colonies thereunto belonging; that now are, or hereafter shall be; and to all and every the ministers and officers of our said plantations and colonies whatsoever, within the continent of New England.

Thus favourable the king manifested himself; and in England persecution for religion was a little at a stand; but it was but a kind of respite. G. Fox the younger, a man of excellent qualifications, and great boldness, foresaw an imminent storm; and lest any carelessness might enter among his friends, in the Fourth month he wrote the following exhortation to them:

‘What my heavenly Father hath determined for these men to do, no man can stop it: O that patience might be abode in by all that know his name, and his will submitted unto by them that he hath called. O be still, strive not, but drink the cup which our Father suffereth to be given; I know it will be bitter to some; but whosoever striveth against it shall come to loss and shame: for the Lord will yet further try his people, till it be fully and clearly manifest who are the approved in his sight. This he will certainly do; therefore let not the present calm beget a wrong security in any, for lo the day hastens, and cometh swiftly, that another storm must arise; and in vain will it be to fly to the tall cedars and strong oaks for shelter; for nothing but the name of the Lord can preserve in that day.

GEORGE FOX, the younger.’

That this G. Fox did not reckon amiss, when in this exhortation he said the day hastens that another storm must arise, we shall see ere long: but first we must take a view of things in America.

This mandamus to the rulers of New England being obtained, as hath been said, quick despatch was thought necessary to send it thither. And Samuel Shattock being empowered by the king to carry it, an agreement was made with one Ralph Goldsmith, who was master of a good ship, and also one of those called Quakers, for three hundred pounds, (goods or no goods,) to sail in ten days. He then immediately made all things ready to set sail, and with a prosperous gale arrived in about six weeks time before the town of Boston in New England, upon a First-day of the week. The townsmen seeing a ship come into the bay with English colours, soon came on board, and asked for the captain. Ralph Goldsmith told them he was the commander. Then they asked him whether he had any letters; and he said ‘Yes.’ Whereupon they asked if he would deliver them; but he said, ‘No, not to-day.’ So they went ashore, and reported there was a ship full of Quakers, and that Samuel Shattock was among them, who they knew was by their law liable to be put to death, for coming in again after banishment: but they knew not his errand nor authority.

All being thus kept close, and none of the ship’s company suffered to go on shore that day, next morning Samuel Shattock, the king’s deputy, and Ralph Goldsmith, the commander of the vessel, went on shore; and sending the men that landed them back to the ship, they two went through the town to the governor John Endicot’s door, and knocked. He sending a man to know their business, they sent him word their business was from the king of England, and that they would deliver their message to none but the governor himself. Thereupon they were admitted to go in, and the governor came to them, and commanded Shattock’s hat to be taken off, and having received the deputation and the mandamus, he laid off his hat; and ordering Shattock’s hat to be given him again, he looked upon the papers, and then going out, went to the deputy-governor, and bid the king’s deputy and the master of the ship to follow him. Being come to the deputy-governor, and having consulted with him about the matter, he returned to the two aforesaid persons and said, ‘We shall obey his majesty’s command.’ After this, the master of the ship gave liberty to the passengers to come ashore, which they did, and met together with their friends of the town, to offer up praises to God for this wonderful deliverance.

Now for as much as several of their friends were yet in prison at Boston, the following order was given forth by the council not long after.

To William Salter, keeper of the prison at Boston.

‘You are required by authority, and order of the general court, forthwith to release and discharge the Quakers, who at present are in custody. See that you do not neglect this.

By order of the court,
EDWARD RAWSON, Secretary.’

Boston, 9th Dec. 1661.

They then consulted what to do that they might not incur the king’s displeasure; and it was agreed to send a deputation to him. First, colonel Temple was sent to acquaint the king with their having set the Quakers at liberty; and he was followed not long after by the chief priest John Norton, and Simon Broadstreet, one of the magistrates.

The year was now spent: but before I conclude it I must take notice, as a pregnant instance of the marvellous vicissitude of mundane affairs, that in the forepart of this year, the body of O. Cromwell, which had been buried with great state in Westminster Abbey, was digged up, as were also the bodies of Bradshaw and Ireton, which three corpses were carried in carts to Tyburn, and there hanged on the gallows. Then the executioner chopped off the heads, stamped with his foot on the bodies, which were tumbled into a pit, dug near the gallows; and the heads were exposed on the top of Westminster Hall, where I remember to have seen them. And that now befel Cromwell which he said about seven years before in his speech to the parliament, as hath been mentioned in its due place, viz. That he would rather be rolled into the grave, and buried with infamy, than give his consent to the throwing away one of the fundamentals of that government, to wit, liberty of conscience. And yet he suffered persecution to go on, as hath been related at large: but now, according to his saying, he was rolled with infamy into the grave; which may serve indeed for a remarkable instance of the justice and equal judgments of God.

About this time a book came out at London, bearing the title of Semper Idem, [i. e. Always the same,] or a Parallel of fanatics. The author concealed his name; but he made it appear sufficiently that he was a Papist, and it may be a jesuit: for he inveighed not only against the Quakers and Baptists, but also against the Presbyterians, and even Episcopalians, and consequently against all Protestants. Nay, the martyrs that were burnt in the bloody reign of queen Mary, eldest daughter to king Henry the Eighth, were no less vilified than the Quakers, in the said book, by the scornful name of rebels, and fanatics. This book was sold publicly, and it seemed that none durst oppose it, for fear of displeasing the court. But E. Burrough, who was of an undaunted courage, and so continued till his death, employed his pen to refute it, and gave forth his answer in print, plainly showing what the anonymous author aimed at, viz. That he would have the cruel usage of fire and faggots revived, and wished to see the burning of reputed heretics brought again into vogue. Which was the more to be taken notice of, because such a publication of vilifying the martyrs with calumnies, had not been seen at London for above an hundred years; and all the groundless positions of the said author were very notably answered by the said E. Burrough.

And since persecution in the latter end of this year began to appear with open face again, he published a book, which he called Antichrist’s government justly detected. This he dedicated to all the rulers, &c. in the (so called) Christian world; and therein, with sound arguments, manifested the unlawfulness and injustice of persecution, and from whence it had its rise; and how dangerous it was to impose religion.

Next he treated at large concerning heresy, and what punishment pertained to such as are truly convicted of it. But lest any might think that he was for opposing the duty of the civil magistrate against malefactors, he said concerning the punishment of heresy, (which he stated to be only an ecclesiastical censure,) that he only intended this, where the error of a man and his heresy in his mind and judgment, did only extend to the hurt of his own soul, and against God, and not to the harm of his neighbour’s person or estate. But, thus continued he, if his error and heresy do extend further than only against God and his own soul, even to outward wrongs, or evils, or violence, or visible mischiefs committed, as murders, or other the like crimes against men, to the injuring of others, then I forbid not outward external punishment, to be corporally inflicted upon the person and estate of such a man; but it ought to be done, and that by the laws of men, provided for the same end; even such a man’s error, in such his wrong dealing, may justly and lawfully be punished with death, banishment or penalties, according to the desert of the crime, &c. The author also wrote circumstantially concerning the government of antichrist, and showed the deceit that was in it, and who were the subjects of his kingdom.

It was somewhat before this time that George Fox the younger, being a prisoner, and seeing an intent of promoting popery, wrote the following letter to the king: