THE SEVENTH BOOK. 1662-1663.

1662.

At London, and in the suburbs, were about this time no less than five hundred of those called Quakers, imprisoned, and some in such narrow holes, that every person scarcely had convenience to lie down; and the felons were suffered to rob them of their clothes and money. Many that were not imprisoned, nevertheless suffered hardships in their religious meetings, especially that in London, known by the name of Bull and Mouth. Here the trained bands came frequently, armed generally with muskets, pikes, and halberds, and conducted by a military officer, by order of the city magistracy; and rushing in, in a very furious manner, fell to beating them, whereby many were grievously wounded, some fell down in a swoon, and some were beaten so violently, that they lived not long after it. Among these was one John Trowel, who was so bruised and crushed, that a few days after he died. His friends therefore thought it expedient to carry the corpse into the aforesaid meeting-place, that it might lie there exposed for some hours, to be seen of every one. This being done, raised commiseration and pity among many of the inhabitants; for the corpse, beaten like a jelly, looked black, and was swoln in a direful manner. This gave occasions to send for the coroner, and he being come, empannelled a jury of the neighbours, and gave them in charge, according to his office, to make true inquiry upon their oaths, and to present what they found to be the cause of his death. They viewing the corpse, had a surgeon or two with them, to know their judgment concerning it; and then going together in private, at length they withdrew without giving in their verdict, only desiring the friends to bury the corpse, which was done accordingly that evening. And though the coroner and jury met divers times together upon that occasion, and had many consultations, yet they never would give in a verdict; but it appeared sufficiently, that the man was killed by violent beating. The reasons some gave for the suspense of a verdict were, that though it was testified that the same person, now dead, was seen beaten and knocked down; yet it being done in such a confused crowd, no particular man could be fixed upon, so that any could say, that man did the deed. And if a verdict was given that the deceased person was killed, and yet no particular person charged with it, then the city was liable to a great fine at the pleasure of the king, for conniving at such a murder in the city in the day-time, not committed in a corner, but in a public place, and not apprehending the murderer, but suffering him to escape. In the meanwhile the friends of the deceased were not wanting to give public notice of the fact, and sent also a letter to the lord mayor, which afterwards they gave out in print, together with a relation of this bloody business. In this letter it was said, ‘It may be supposed thou hast heard of this thing, for it was done not in the night, but at the midtime of the day; not suddenly, at unawares, or by mishap, but intendedly, and a long space of time a doing; and not in a corner, but in the streets of the city of London; all which circumstances do highly aggravate this murder, to the very shame and infamy of this famous city, and its government.’

A certain person who spread some of these printed relations, was imprisoned for his pains; nevertheless another brought one of them to the king, and told him how the thing had been done; at which the king said, ‘I assure you it was not by my advice that any of your friends should be slain: ye must tell the magistrates of the city of it, and prosecute the law against them.’ This saying of the king was not long after also published in print: but violence prevailed still; for the person that was apprehended for spreading the said books, was sent to prison, by the special order of Alderman Brown, of whom, since mention may be made several times in this work, it gives me occasion to say something of what kind of man he was.

In the time of Cromwell he had been very fierce against the royalists, especially at Abingdon, not far from Oxford; for this error he endeavoured now to make compensation by violently persecuting the harmless Quakers; otherwise he was a comely man, and could commit cruelty with a smiling countenance. But more of his actions may be represented hereafter.

The Quakers, so called, seeing that they could not obtain justice, let the matter of the murdered persons alone; for suffering was now their portion, and therefore they left their cause to God. Oftentimes they were kept out of their meeting-houses by the soldiers; but then they did not use to go away, but stood before the place, and so their number soon increased; and then one or other of their ministers generally stepped upon a bench, or some high place, and so preached boldly. Thus he got sometimes more hearers than otherwise he might have had. But such an one sometimes was soon pulled down, which then gave occasion for another to stand up and preach, and thus often four or five one after another, were taken away, as innocent sheep, and carried to prison with others of their friends, it may be forty or fifty at once. This puts me in mind of what I heard my mother Judith Zinspenning say, who in the year next following being gone for England, with William Caton and his wife, who lived at Amsterdam, to visit her friends there, and coming to London, went with others to the Bull and Mouth meeting; but entrance being denied, they stayed in the street, where she saw one preacher after another pulled down, at the instant cry of some officer or other, ‘Constable, take him away.’ Several being thus led away, the constable came also to her, and perceiving by her dress that she was a Dutch woman, pulled her by the sleeve, and said with admiration, ‘What a Dutch Quaker!’ but meddled no further with her. This keeping of meetings in the streets became now a customary thing in England; for the Quakers, so called, were persuaded that the exercise of their public worship was a duty no man could discharge them from, and they believed that God required the performing of this service from their hands. And by this meeting in the streets, it happened sometimes that more than one, nay, it may be three or four at a time, did preach, one in one place, and another in another, which in their meeting places could not have been done conveniently. But thus they got abundance of auditors, and among these sometimes eminent men, who passing by in their coaches, made their coachmen stop. At this rate they found there was a great harvest, and thus their church increased under sufferings; and in those sharp times they were pretty well purified of dross, since the trial was too hot for such as were not sincere: for by frequenting their meetings in such a time, one was in danger of being imprisoned, or beaten lame, or unto death; but this could not quench the zeal of the upright.

Now the taking away of one preacher, and the standing up of another, became an ordinary thing in England, and it lasted yet long after, as I myself have been an eye-witness of there. And when there were no more men preachers present, it may be a woman would rise, and minister to the meeting; nay, there were such, who in years being little more than boys, were endued with a manly zeal, and encouraged their friends to steadfastness. In the meanwhile many also were imprisoned, without being hauled out of their meetings; for some have been apprehended for speaking only something on the behalf of their friends; as Rebecca Travers, who, going to the lieutenant of the Tower, desired him to have compassion on some who were imprisoned for frequenting of meetings. But he grew angry at this; and when she went away, one of the keepers gave her ill language: on which she exhorting him, to be good in his place, whilst it was the Lord’s will he had it, he was so offended, that going back to the lieutenant, he complained that she had spoken treason, and thereupon she was apprehended, and sent to prison. Nay, the rude soldiers were encouraged to cruelty by officers who were not a whit better, for they themselves would sometimes lay violent hands on peaceable people; as amongst the rest of the aforementioned, alderman Richard Brown, who formerly had been a major-general under Cromwell, and now behaved himself with such outrageous fierceness, that even the comedians did not stick to expose him, by an allusion to his name Brown, and saying, ‘The devil was brown.’

A book was also printed, wherein many base abuses, and also his furious behaviour were exposed to public view; and this book was dedicated to him with this small epistle:

The said book, though published without the author’s name, yet one of them was not only sent to Brown, but as a sign that the Quakers, so called, owned it, others were, by about thirty of them, delivered to the lord mayor, and the sheriffs of London, that so they might know what was acted under their authority; for some, though not authorized, yet being favourites at court, made bold to act against the Quakers whatever their malice prompted them to. Among these was one Philip Miller, who, though not an officer, yet in the month called May of this year, came into a meeting of the said people, in John’s street, in the parish of Sepulchres, at London, without any order or warrant, and having a cane in his hand, commanded the rabble who attended him to secure whom he pleased; and then he fetched a constable, whom he forced by his threats to go along with him, and five persons he apprehended, among whom was John Crook, of whom further mention is like to be made again. Some days after, this Miller came to the said meeting place again, and struck several persons with his cane, because they would not depart at his command; and then he charged the constables, whom he brought along with him, to secure and take into custody whom he pleased.

About the latter end of the aforesaid month, on a First-day of the week, one captain Reeves, and some soldiers with muskets and drawn swords, came violently rushing into the Bull and Mouth meeting, where they pulled down him that was preaching, and presently laid hold of another, who desired Reeves to show his order for this his doing: to which he answered, he would not in that place; but it appeared afterwards that he could not, as having no warrant. Yet he caused his soldiers to take away about forty persons, (some of whom were not at the meeting, but had been taken up in the streets,) and have them into Paul’s yard, where they were kept till the public worship was ended there; and then alderman Richard Brown came into the place where the prisoners were guarded, and with great rage and fury laid hands first on a very aged person, and pulled him down twice by the brim of his hat, whereby he lost it. Then he served another in like manner, and a soldier struck this person a great blow with a pistol on his bare head: two others Brown used in the like manner, and then he sent them all to Newgate, guarded by soldiers.

The same day some soldiers came to a meeting in Tower street, and without any warrant, took away twenty-one persons, called Quakers, and carried them to the Exchange, where they kept them some time, and then brought them before the said Richard Brown, who in a most furious manner struck some, and kicked others; which made one of the prisoners, seeing how Brown smote one with his fist on the face, and kicked him on the shin, say, ‘What Richard, wilt thou turn murderer? Thou didst not do so when I was a soldier under thy command at Abingdon, and thou commandedst me with others, to search people’s houses for pies and roast meat, because they kept Christmas as a holy time; and we brought the persons prisoners to the guard, for observing the same.’ For such a precise man the said Brown was at that time, that he pretended to root out that superstitious custom; though there is reason to question, whether his heart were sincere in this respect: however, such blind zeal was unfit to convince people of superstition; and Brown well knowing that by his former carriage, he had very much disobliged those of the church of England, endeavoured now to make amends for it, by his fierce brutality against the harmless Quakers, and so to come into favour with the ecclesiastics and courtiers. One of Brown’s family having heard what was said to him, replied, ‘There is an Abingdon bird.’ To which Brown, returned, ‘He is a rogue for all that,’ and struck him with his fist under the chin; which made another prisoner say, ‘What, a magistrate and strike!’ Upon which Brown with both his hands pulled him down to the ground by the brim of his hat, and then commanded the soldiers to take them all away, and carry them to Newgate.

Upon a First-day of the week, in the month called June, a company of soldiers came into the Bull and Mouth meeting, with pikes, drawn swords, muskets, and lighted matches, as if they were going to fight; though they knew well enough they should find none there but harmless people. The first thing they did was to pull down him that preached, whom they hauled out of the meeting, rejoicing as if they had obtained some great victory: then they brought him to the main guard at Paul’s, and returned to the Bull and Mouth, where they apprehended some more, whom they also carried to Paul’s. After some hours, these prisoners were carried to the house of the fore-mentioned Brown, and he, asking the names of the prisoners, and hearing that of John Perrot, said, ‘What, you have been at Rome to subvert,’ but recalling himself, said, ‘to convert the Pope.’ On which Perrot told him, ‘He had suffered at Rome for the testimony of Jesus.’ Whereupon Brown returned, ‘If you had converted the Pope to your religion, I should have liked him far worse than I do now.’ To which Perrot replied, ‘But God would have liked him better.’ After some more short discourse, Brown committed them all to Newgate.

After this manner, the meetings of those called Quakers were disturbed at that time, of which I could produce, if necessary, many more instances. Once, one Cox, a wine-cooper, came with some soldiers into a meeting, where, after great violence used, they took up two men of those called Quakers, whom they beat most grievously, because they refused to go along with them, though they showed no warrant for it. At length the soldiers carried them both upon muskets into Paul’s yard, and when they laid them down, they dragged one of them by the heels on his back, in a very barbarous manner; which being done, the said wine-cooper was heard to say, he would go and get a cup of sack, for these devils had even wearied him out: and yet he went to another meeting-place of these people, where he also behaved himself very wickedly; and being asked for his order, his answer was holding out his sword, this is my order. Thus it seems he would ingratiate himself with Brown, who now being in favour at court, was knighted, and sometime after also chosen lord mayor of London; and by his furious behaviour, the soldiers were also encouraged to commit all manner of mischief; insomuch, that being asked, what order they had for their doings, one lifting up his musket, said, ‘This is my order:’ so that things now were carried by a club-law. Nor did the soldiers respect age, but took away out of a meeting at Mile-end, two boys, one about thirteen and the other about sixteen; and they were brought before the lieutenant of the Tower, who to one present, saying, he supposed they were not of the age of sixteen years, and then not punishable by the act, returned, they were old enough to be whipped; and they should be whipped out of their religion. And so he sent them to Bridewell, where their hands were put into the stocks, and so pinched for the space of two hours, that their wrists were much swoln; and this was done because they refused to work, as being persuaded that they had not deserved to be treated so; they also eating nothing at the charge of the said workhouse. These lads, though pretty long in that prison, yet continued steadfast, rejoicing they were counted worthy to suffer for the name of the Lord: and they wrote a letter to their friends’ children, exhorting them to be faithful in bearing their testimony for the Lord, against all wickedness and unrighteousness.

Some days before this time, Thomas and John Herbert, living in London, and other musketeers, came with their naked swords into some private dwellings, and broke two or three doors; (for when some persons were seen to enter a house, though it was only to visit their friends, it was called a meeting.) Now it happened in one house, these rude fellows found five persons together, one of whom was William Ames, who was come thither out of Holland, and another was Samuel Fisher: and when it was demanded what warrant they had, they held up their swords, and said, ‘Do not ask us for a warrant; this is our warrant.’ And thereupon they took away these persons by force, and carried them to Paul’s yard, where they were a laughing-stock to the soldiers; and from thence they were brought to the Exchange, where they met with no better reception from the rude soldiers; and from thence they were conducted to alderman Brown’s house in Ivy-lane. He seeing these prisoners, sent them to Bridewell with a mittimus, to be kept at hard labour. But afterwards bethinking himself, and finding that his mittimus was not founded on justice, (for these persons were not taken from a meeting,) next morning he sent another mittimus, wherein they were charged with unlawful assembling themselves to worship. Now, suppose one of the musketeers had heard any of these persons speak by way of exhortation to faithfulness in this hot time of persecution, this would have been taken for a sufficient charge, though not cognizable by law: but they ran upon shifts, how poor or silly soever.

Thus these persons were committed to Bridewell, and required to beat hemp; and they were treated so severely, that W. Ames grew sick, even nigh to death, wherefore he was discharged; for in a sense it might be said, that his dwelling-place was at Amsterdam in Holland, since he was there the most part of the time for some years successively, and that he might not be chargeable, he worked at wool-combing; and it being alleged that he was of Amsterdam, it seems they would not have him die in prison, as some of his friends had done. The others having been six weeks in Bridewell, were presented at the sessions in the Old Bailey: but instead of being tried for what was charged against them, they were required to take the oath of allegiance, as the only business, (according to what the deputy recorder said,) they were brought thither for. The prisoners then demanded, that the law might be read, by virtue of which the said oath was required of them. This was promised by the court to be done; but instead thereof, they ordered the clerk to read only the form of the oath, but would not permit the law for imposing it to be read. But before the prisoners had either declared their willingness to take it, or their refusal of it, they were commanded to be taken away; which the officers did with such violence, that they threw some of them down upon stones. This made Samuel Fisher say, ‘Take notice people, that we have not yet refused to take the oath; but the court refuseth to perform their promise which they made but just now before you all, that this statute for it should be read: if such doings as this ever prosper, it must be when there is no God.’ But this was not regarded; and the prisoners, without any justice were sent to Newgate. Among these, was also one John Howel, who had been sent by alderman Brown to work at Bridewell, because he being brought before him, did not tell on a sudden what was his name: and being demanded in the court why he did not tell his name, he answered, because he had been beaten and abused in the presence of Richard Brown, when he was brought before him. Brown, who was also on the bench, asked him roughly, ‘Wherein were you abused?’ And Howel replied, ‘Blood was drawn on me in thy presence; which ought not to be done in the presence of a justice of peace.’ But Brown growing very impetuous, returned, ‘Hold your prating, or there shall be as much done again here in the presence of the court.’

About midsummer, Daniel Baker returned into England, (who, as hath been related, had been at Malta,) and about a fortnight after his arrival, he, with four others, were taken by a band of soldiers from the Bull and Mouth meeting, and carried to Paul’s yard, where having been kept for some hours, they were brought to Newgate; but in the evening they were had before alderman Brown, to whom Baker with meekness said, ‘Let the fear of God and his peace be set up in thy heart.’ But Brown fell a laughing, and said, ‘I would rather hear a dog bark;’ and using more such scoffing expressions, he charged Baker, &c. with the breach of the king’s law in meeting together. To which Baker said, ‘The servants of God in the apostles’ days, were commanded to speak no more in the name of Jesus; and they answered, and so do I too, whether it be better to obey God than men, judge ye.’ He also instanced the case of the three children at Babylon, and Daniel who obeyed not the king’s decrees. But Brown grew so angry, that he commanded his men to smite Daniel on the face. This they did, and pulling him four or five times to the ground, they smote him with their fists, and wrung his neck so, as if they would have murdered him. This these fellows did to please Brown, showing themselves to be ready for any service, how abominable soever. And Baker reflecting on his travels, signified, that even Turks and heathens would abhor such brutish actions. His fellow-prisoners were also abused by Brown, and then sent to Newgate again. And after some days, they were called to the sessions, where their indictment was read, which like others in such cases, did generally run in these terms: that the prisoners, under pretence of performing religious worship, otherwise than by the laws of the kingdom of England established, unlawfully and tumultuously did gather and assemble themselves together, to the great terror of his majesty’s people, and to the disturbance of the peace of the king, in contempt of our said lord the king, and his laws, to the evil example of all others in the like case offending, &c. The indictment being read, no witness appeared against the prisoners, save Brown, who sat on the bench: and therefore the oath, as the ordinary snare, was tendered to them; for it was sufficiently known, that their profession did not suffer them to take any oath. They denying to swear, were sent back to prison, to stay there until they should have taken the oath.

If I would here set down all such like cases as have happened, I might find more work than I should be able to perform: for this vexing with the oath was become so common, that some have been taken up in the streets, and brought to a justice of the peace, that he might tender the oath to them, and in case of denial, send them to prison, though this was directly contrary to the statute of Magna Charta, which expressly saith, ‘No freeman shall be taken or imprisoned, or be disseised of his freehold or liberties, but by the law of the land.’ But this was not regarded by Richard Brown, who did whatever he would; for force and violence were now predominant: and sometimes when the prisoners were brought to the bar, for frequenting meetings, freedom was denied to them to justify themselves; but to be hectored and baffled was their lot.

Once it happened, that a prisoner, who had been a soldier formerly under Brown, seeing that no justice or equity was observed, called to him, saying, ‘That he was not fit to sit on the bench; for he made the son to hang the father at Abingdon; so that he could prove him to be a murderer.’ This bold saying caused some disturbance in the court, and Brown, how heavy soever the charge was, did not deny the thing in court, nor clear himself from it: yet the other Quaker prisoners did not approve this upbraiding, but signified, that though the fact were true, yet they were not for reproaching any magistrate upon the bench, whose place and office they did respect and honour. But I do not find that Brown, (on that account,) ever prosecuted him that spoke so boldly, although otherwise he did whatever he would, without fearing that his fellow-magistrates, (who respected him that was a favourite at court,) would disclaim it, as may appear by this following instance.

A certain person who had been in a very violent and abusive manner taken to prison by the soldiers out of a meeting, because he was not willing to go, said in the court, that his refusing to go, was because they would not show him any warrant for their apprehending him: since for aught he knew, they might be robbers or murderers, with whom he was not bound to go. But Brown, who was for violence, said to this, if they had dragged him through all the kennels in the street, they had served him right, if he would not go. This he spoke in such a furious manner, that one of the prisoners told him, ‘Thou hast had many warnings and visitations in the love of God, but hast slighted them; therefore beware of being sealed up in the wrath of God.’ Hereupon one of the jailers came with his cane and struck several of the prisoners so hard, that divers of them were much bruised; and it was reported by some, that Brown cried knock him down, though others, (for mitigating it a little,) would have it, pull him down. But the former seems most probable: for the blows were so violent, that some of the spectators cried out, murder! murder! and asked, ‘Will ye suffer men to be murdered in the court?’ Whereupon one of the sheriffs in person came down from his seat to stop the beating. But Brown was so desperately filled with anger, that he said to the prisoners, ‘If any of you be killed, your blood shall be upon your own head:’ and the hangman standing by with his gag in his hand, threatened the prisoners to gag any of them that should speak any thing. Thus innocence was forced to give way to violence. And once, when one at the common juridical question, guilty, or not guilty, answered, I deny I am guilty, and I can say I am not guilty; and also in Latin, non reus sum. Yet he was sentenced as mute, and fined accordingly, though the words he spoke, fully signified not guilty, albeit he had not expressed them in the same terms. But now they were for crossing the Quakers in every respect.

I will yet mention some more instances of Brown’s brutality, before I leave him. Another being demanded to answer to his indictment, guilty, or not guilty, and not presently answering, but thinking a little what to speak safely, Brown scoffingly said, ‘We shall have a revelation by and by.’ To which the prisoner said, ‘How long will ye oppose the innocent? How long will ye persecute the righteous seed of God?’ But whilst he was speaking, Brown indecently began to cry in the language of those wenches that go crying up and down the streets, ‘Aha, aha! Will you have any Wellfleet oysters?’ And, ‘have you any kitchen-stuff, maids?’ And when a prisoner at the bar said he could not for conscience-sake forbear meeting among the people of God, Brown scurrilously returned, ‘Conscience,—a dog’s tail.’ And when alderman Adams speaking to one of the prisoners said, ‘I am sorry to see you here.’ ‘Sorry!’ said Brown, ‘What should you be sorry for?’ ‘Yes,’ said Adams, ‘He is a sober man.’ But Brown, who could not endure to hear this, replied, that there never was a sober man amongst them, meaning the Quakers. The spectators, who took much notice of him, discommended this his carriage exceedingly. But he seemed to be quite hardened; for at a certain time two persons being upon their trial for robbing of a house, he told them, they were the veriest rogues in England, except it were the Quakers.

Sometimes it happened that the prisoners were brought to the bar without being indicted; and when they said, ‘What have we done?’ and desired justice; Brown, having no indictment against them, often cried, ‘Will you take the oath?’ And they then saying, ‘that for conscience-sake they could not swear,’ were condemned as transgressors, though such proceedings as these were directly against the law. But this seemed at that time little to be regarded.

However, sometime before, it happened at Thetford in the county of Norfolk, that judge Windham, at that time showing himself just in the like case, sharply reproved the justices upon the bench, for having not only committed some persons to prison, but also had them up to the bar, when no accuser appeared against them. But Richard Brown did whatever he would, and showed himself most furiously wicked, when any prisoner was brought before him with his hat on.

One John Brain, being taken in the street, and not in any meeting, was brought by some soldiers before Brown; who, seeing him with his hat on, ordered him to be pulled down to the ground six or seven times, and when he was down, they beat his head against the ground, and stamped upon him; and Brown, like a madman, bade them pull off his nose; whereupon they very violently pulled him by the nose. And when he was got up, they pulled him to the ground by the hair of his head, and then by the hair pulled him up again. And when he would have spoken in his own behalf against this cruelty, Brown bade them stop his mouth. Whereupon they not only struck him on the mouth, but stopped his mouth and nose also so close, that he could not draw breath, and was like to be choaked: at which actions Brown fell a laughing, and at length sent him to jail.

Thomas Spire, being brought before Brown, he commanded his hat to be taken off; and because it was not done with such violence as he intended, he caused it to be put upon his head again, saying, ‘It should not be pulled off so easily.’ Then he was pulled down to the ground by his hat, and pulled up again by his hair. William Hill being brought before him, he commanded his hat to be pulled off, so that his head might be bowed down: whereupon he being pulled to the ground, was plucked up again by the hair of his head. George Ableson was thus pulled five times one after another to the ground, and plucked up by his hair, and so beaten on his face, or the sides of his head, that he staggered, and bled, and for some days was under much pain.

Nicholas Blithold being brought before Brown, he took his hat with both his hands, endeavouring to pull him down to the ground; and because he fell not quite to the ground forwards, he pushed him, to throw him backwards; and then he gave him a kick on the leg, and thrust him out of doors. Thomas Lacy being brought before him, he himself gave him a blow on the face; and Isaac Merrit, John Cook, Arthur Baker, and others, were not treated much better; so that he seemed more fit to have been hangman, than an alderman, or justice. But I grow weary of mentioning more instances of his cruelty. These his abominable achievements were published in print, more at large than I have mentioned them: and the book, as hath been said already, was dedicated to him. And yet I do not find any have been prosecuted on that account; though his wickedness was extravagant, and such as if he wanted to have stakes erected at Smithfield to vend his wood; being by trade a woodmonger.

In this hot time of persecution, Francis Howgill wrote, and gave forth the following paper for encouragement of his friends.

That this writing of F. Howgill, who was a pious man, of great parts, together with many other powerful exhortations of such who valiantly went before, and never left the oppressed flock, tended exceedingly to their encouragement in this hot time of persecution, is certain. For how furious soever their enemies were, yet they continued faithful in supplications and fervent prayers to God, that he might be pleased to assist them in their upright zeal, who aimed at nothing for self, but from a true fear and reverence before him, durst not omit their religious assemblies. And they found that the Lord heard their prayers, insomuch that I remember to have heard one say, that at a meeting where they seemed to be in danger of death from their fierce persecutors, he was as it were ravished, so that he hardly knew whether he was in or out of the body. They then persevering thus in faithfulness, to what they believed the Lord required of them, in process of time, when their enemies had taken such measures, that they were persuaded they had found out such means, by which they should suppress and extinguish the Quakers, they saw the Lord God Almighty rose up in their defence, and quashed and confounded the wicked devices of their cruel persecutors, as will be seen in the course of this history.

In the meanwhile let us take a view of the persecution in Southwark. Here the Quakers’ meetings were no less disturbed than in London. Several persons having been taken from their religious meetings, were committed; and after having been in White-lion prison about nine weeks, were brought to the bar, where Richard Onslow sat judge of the sessions. The indictment drawn up against them was as followeth.

I have inserted this indictment, that the reader may see not only the manner of proceeding, but also with what black and heinous colours the religious meetings of those called Quakers, were represented. This indictment being read, the prisoners desired that they might be tried by the late act of parliament against conventicles. But it was answered, they might try them by what they would that was in force. Then the prisoners desired that the statute, (viz. the 35th of Elizabeth,) might be read. This was done but in part, and it was said to the clerk, it was enough. The prisoners said then, that that act was made in the time of ignorance, when the people were but newly stept out of popery; and they showed also how unjustly they were dealt with. Then being required to plead guilty, or not guilty, to the indictment, some who were not very forward to answer, were hauled out of the court, as taken pro confessis; and so sent back to prison. The rest, being twenty-two in number, pleaded not guilty. Then the jurymen were called, and when they had excepted against one, the judge would not allow it, because he did not like the reason they gave, viz. that they saw envy, prejudice, and a vain deportment in him. Another was excepted against, because he was heard to say, that he hoped ere long, that the Quakers should be arraigned at the bar, and be banished to some land, where there were nothing but bears. At this the court burst out into a laughter; yet the exception was admitted, and the man put by. The prisoners not thinking it convenient to make more exceptions, the jury were sworn; then two witnesses were called, who testified at most, that in such a place they took such persons met together, whose names were specified in writing. Then the prisoners bid the jury, take heed how they did sport or dally with holy things, and that those things, which concerned the conscience, were holy things. And as a man was not to sport with the health or illness of his neighbour, so he was not to sport with the liberty or the banishment of his neighbour. And whereas they were accused of being wicked, dangerous, and seditious sectaries, that was not true; for they were not wicked, but such as endeavoured to live soberly, righteously, and godly in the world; concerning the truth of which, they appealed to themselves. Neither were they seditious, but peaceable. And whereas they were charged for not coming to hear the common prayer, this was incongruous; for the service book was not quite printed several weeks after the said 29th of June; so that they could not be charged of neglecting to hear that which was not to be heard read any where. This puzzled the court not a little; and other pinching reasons were also given by the prisoners, some of whom were men of learning; insomuch that the judge was not able to answer the objections, but by shifts and evasions. At length the jury went out to consult, and one of them was heard to say, as they were going up stairs, ‘Here is a deal to do indeed, to condemn a company of innocent men.’

After some time, the jury coming again, and being asked whether the prisoners at the bar were guilty or not guilty, they said they were guilty in part, and not guilty in part. But this verdict did not please the judge. The jury then going out again, and prevailing upon one another, quickly returned, and declared the prisoners guilty, according to the form of the indictment. Hereupon the judge Onslow pronounced sentence, viz. That they should return to prison again, and lie there three months without bail; and if they did not make submission according as the law directed, either at or before the end of the aforesaid three months, that then they should abjure the realm: but in case they refused to make abjuration, or after abjuration made, should forbear to depart the realm within the time limited, or should return again without license, they should be proceeded against as felons.

Just before sentence given, the judge said to one of the prisoners, there was a way to escape the penalty, viz. Submission. And being asked, what that was? the judge answered, ‘To come to common prayer, and refrain these meetings.’ The prisoner giving reasons for refusal of both, the judge said, ‘Then you must abjure the land.’ ‘Abjure,’ returned the prisoners, is ‘forswear.’ To which one of the justices said laughingly, ‘And ye cannot swear at all.’ Just as if it were but jest, thus to treat religious men. But they had signified already to the jury, that they must rather die than do so. How long they were kept prisoners, and how released, I could not learn; but this I know, that many in the like cases have been long kept in jail, till sometimes they were set at liberty by the king’s proclamation.

In this year it was the share of John Crook, (who himself once had been a justice,) to be taken out of a meeting at London in John’s street, as hath been said already, by one Miller, though not in office. And he with others was brought to his trial in the said city, before the lord mayor of London, the recorder of the same, the chief justice Forster, and other judges and justices, among whom was also Richard Brown.

Now since J. Crook published this trial in print, and by that we may judge, as ex ungue leonem, of other trials of the Quakers, I will give it here at large.

On the sixth day of the week, in the forenoon following, the court being sat, John Crook was called to the bar.