1655-1656.—Friends slandered by Presbyterians and Independents, suffer much from them and the Baptists for refusing to pay tithes—the priests hunt after a fallen benefice like crows after carrion—great miracles wrought through several—an Independent preacher convinced, but relapses—address to the convinced in Ireland—a sick woman at Baldock restored—George Fox parts and reconciles two furious combatants—to the seven parishes at the Land’s End, recommending attention to the Inward Light—George Fox parts with James Naylor, and has a presentiment of his fall—Major Ceely places George Fox and Edward Pyot under arrest—they are sent to Launceston jail—put into Doomsdale, and suffer a long and cruel imprisonment—a paper against swearing—Peter Ceely’s mittimus—George Fox has great service in jail—many are convinced, and opposers are confounded—experiences some remarkable preservations—Edward Pyot writes an excellent letter to Judge Glynne on the liberty of the subject, and on the injustice and illegality of their imprisonment—Truth spreads in the west by the very means taken to prevent it—exhortation and warning to magistrates—answer to the Exeter general warrant for taking up and imprisoning Friends—exhortation to Friends in the ministry—warning to priests and professors—cruel jailer imprisoned in Doomsdale, and further judgments upon him follow—a Friend offers to lie in prison instead of George Fox—Edward Pyot to Major-General Desborough, in answer to his conditional offer of liberty—George Fox to the same—he and his Friends are soon after liberated.

After clearing myself of those services for the Lord, which lay upon me in London, I passed into Bedfordshire and Northamptonshire. At Wellingborough, I had a great meeting, in which the Lord’s everlasting power and truth was over all; and many in that country were turned to the Lord. Great rage was amongst the professors, for the wicked priests, Presbyterians, and Independents, falsely reported “that we carried bottles about with us, which we gave people to drink of; which made them follow us:” but the Power, and Spirit, and Truth of God kept Friends over the rage of the people. Great spoiling also there was of Friends’ goods for tithes, by the Independent and Presbyterian priests, and some Baptist priests, that had got into the steeple-houses.

From Wellingborough I went into Leicestershire, where Colonel Hacker had threatened that if I came there he would imprison me again, though the Protector had set me at liberty: but when I was come to Whetstone, (the meeting from which he took me before,) all was quiet there. Colonel Hacker’s wife, and his marshal came to the meeting, and were convinced: for the glorious powerful day of the Lord was exalted over all, and many were convinced that day. There were at that meeting two justices of the peace, that came out of Wales, whose names were Peter Price and Walter Jenkin; who came both to be ministers of Christ.

I went from thence to Sileby, to William Smith’s, where was a great meeting, to which several Baptists came; one of them, a Baptist teacher, was convinced, and came to sit under the Lord’s teaching by his Spirit and power. This Baptist said, he had baptized thirty in a day.

From thence I went to Drayton, my native town, where so many priests and professors had formerly gathered together against me; but now not a priest or professor appeared. I asked some of my relations where all the priests and professors were? They said, the priest of Nun-Eaton was dead, and eight or nine of them were seeking to get his benefice. “They will let you alone now,” said they, “for they are like a company of crows, when a sheep is dead, they all gather together to pull out the puddings; so do the priests for a fallen benefice.” These were some of their own hearers that said so of them; but they had spent their venom against me, and the Lord delivered me by his power out of their snares.

Then I went to Baddesley, where was a great meeting. Many came far to it; and were convinced and turned to the Lord; who came under Christ’s teaching, and were settled upon him, their foundation and their rock.

From thence I passed into Nottinghamshire, and had large meetings there; and into Derbyshire, where the Lord’s power came over all; and many were turned from darkness to light, and from the power of Satan unto God, and came to receive the Holy Ghost. Great miracles were wrought in many places by the power of the Lord through several.

In Derbyshire James Naylor met me, and told me, seven or eight priests had challenged him to a dispute. I had a travail in my spirit for him, and the Lord answered me, and I was moved to bid him go on, and God Almighty would be with him, and give him the victory in His power. And the Lord did so; insomuch that the people saw the priests were foiled, and they cried, “a Nailer, a Nailer hath confuted them all.” After the dispute, he came to me again, praising the Lord. Thus was the Lord’s day proclaimed and set over all their heads, and people began to see the apostacy and slavery they had been under to their hireling teachers for means; and they came to know their teacher, the Lord Jesus, who had purchased them, and made their peace between God and them. While we were here, Friends came out of Yorkshire to see us, and were glad of the prosperity of truth.

After this I passed into Warwickshire, through Friends, visiting their meetings; and so into Worcestershire. I had a meeting at Birmingham, as I went, where several were convinced and turned to the Lord. At length I came to one Cole’s house in Worcestershire, near Chattan. This Cole had given an Independent preacher a meeting-place, and the Independent came to be convinced, and after he was convinced he laid aside his preaching; whereupon the old man—— Cole gave him a hundred pounds a-year. I had a meeting there, and a very great one it was, insomuch that the meeting-place would not hold the people: and many were turned to the Lord that day. Afterwards, when the time of trials came, this Independent did not stand to that which had convinced him, but turned back, whereupon the old man took away his hundred pounds a-year from him again. But Cole himself died in God’s truth.

I heard that at Evesham the magistrates had cast several Friends into prison; and that, hearing of my coming, they made a pair of high stocks. I sent for Edward Pittaway, a Friend that lived near Evesham, and asked him the truth of the thing; and he said it was so. I went that night with him to Evesham, and in the evening we had a large, precious meeting, wherein Friends and people were refreshed with the word of life, and with the power of the Lord. Next morning I rode to one of the prisons, and visited Friends there, and encouraged them. Then I rode to the other prison, where there were several prisoners; and amongst them was Humphrey Smith,^[42] who had been a priest, but was now become a free minister of Christ. When I had visited the Friends at both prisons, and was turned away from the prison to go out of town, I espied the magistrates coming to seize me. But the Lord frustrated their intent, the innocent escaped their snare, and God’s blessed power came over them all. But exceedingly rude and envious were the priests and professors about this time in those parts.

I went from Evesham to Worcester, and had a precious meeting there, and quiet. But after it, as we came down the street towards our inn, some of the professors fell to discourse with Friends, and were like to have made a tumult in the city. As we went into the inn, they all cluttered into the yard; but I went among them, and got them quieted. Next day I walked into the town, and had much discourse with some of the professors, concerning Christ and the way of truth. One of them denied that Christ was of Abraham, according to the flesh, and that he was declared to be the Son of God, according to the Spirit; but I proved from Rom. i. that he was of the seed of Abraham, being made of the seed of David according to the flesh; and that according to the Spirit he was declared to be the Son of God. Afterwards I wrote a paper concerning it.

From Worcester we went to Tewkesbury, where in the evening we had a great meeting; to which came the priest of the town with a great rabble of rude people. He boasted, that he would see whether he or I should have the victory. “I turned the people to the divine light, which Christ, the heavenly and spiritual man, enlighteneth them withal; that with that light they might see their sins, and that they were in death and darkness, and without God in the world; and that with the same light they might also see Christ from whom it comes, their Saviour and Redeemer, who shed his blood and died for them, and who is the way to God, the truth, and the life.” Here the priest began to rage against the Light, and denied it; for neither priest nor professor could endure to hear the Light spoken of. So the priest having railed at the Light went away, and left his rude company amongst us; but the Lord’s power came over them, though mischief was in their hearts.

Leaving Tewkesbury, we came to Warwick, where in the evening we had a meeting at a widow’s house, with many sober people. A precious meeting we had in the Lord’s power, and several were convinced and turned to the Lord. After it, as I was walking out, a Baptist in the company began to jangle; and the bailiff of the town with his officers came in, and said, “What do these people here at this time of night?” So he secured John Crook, Amor Stoddart, Gerrard Roberts,^[43] and myself, but we had leave to go to our inn, and to be forth-coming in the morning. Next morning many rude people came to the inn, and into our chambers, desperate fellows; but the Lord’s power gave us dominion over them. Gerrard Roberts and John Crook went up to the bailiff to speak with him, and to know what he had to say to us. He said we might go our ways, for he had little to say to us. As we rode out of town, it lay upon me to ride to his house to let him know, “that the Protector having given forth an instrument of government, in which liberty of conscience was granted, it was very strange that, contrary to that instrument of government, he would trouble peaceable people that feared God.” The Friends went with me, but the rude people gathered about us with stones; and one of them took hold of my horse’s bridle and broke it; but the horse drawing back threw him under him. Though the bailiff saw this, yet he did not stop, nor so much as rebuke the rude multitude, so that it was much we were not slain or hurt in the streets; for the people threw stones, and struck at us, as we rode along the town.

When we were quite out of the town, I told Friends, “it was upon me from the Lord, that I must go back into it again; and if anyone of them felt anything upon him from the Lord, he might follow me, and the rest that did not, might go on to Dun-Cow.” So I passed up through the market in the dreadful power of God, declaring the word of life to them, and John Crook followed me. Some struck at me; but the Lord’s power was over them, and gave me dominion over all. I showed them their unworthiness of the name of Christians, and the unworthiness of their teachers who had not brought them into more sobriety; and what a shame they were to Christianity!

Having cleared myself, I turned back out of the town again, and passed to Coventry; where we found the people closed up with darkness. I went to a professor’s house that I had formerly been at, and he was drunk, which grieved my soul so, that I did not go into any house in the town; but rode into some of the streets, and into the market-place. I felt the power of the Lord God was over the town.

Then I went on to Dun-Cow, and had a meeting there in the evening, and some were turned to the Lord by his Spirit, as also at Warwick and Tewkesbury. We lay at Dun-Cow that night, and there we met with John Camm, a faithful minister of the everlasting gospel. In the morning there gathered a rude company of priests and people, who behaved more like beasts than men; for some of them came riding on horseback into the room where we were; but the Lord gave us dominion over them.

From thence we passed into Leicestershire, where we had a great meeting at the place where I had been taken formerly; and after that we came to Baddesley in Warwickshire. Here William Edmundson,^[44] a Friend who lived in Ireland, having some drawings upon his spirit to come over into England to see me, met with me; by whom I wrote to the few Friends then convinced in the north of Ireland, as follows:—

When these few lines were read amongst the Friends in Ireland at their meeting, the power of the Lord came upon all in the room.

From Baddesley we passed to Swanington andand Higham, and so into Northamptonshire and Bedfordshire, having great meetings; and many were turned to the Lord by his power and Spirit. When we came to Baldock in Hertfordshire, I asked, if there was nothing in that town, no profession; and it was answered me, there were some Baptists and a Baptist woman sick. John Rush of Bedfordshire went with me to visit her. When we came in, there were many tender people about her. They told me she was not a woman for this world, but if I had anything to comfort her concerning the world to come, I might speak to her. I was moved of the Lord God to speak to her; and the Lord raised her up again to the astonishment of the town and country. This Baptist woman and her husband, whose name was Baldock, came to be convinced, and many hundreds of people have met at their house since. Great meetings and convincements were in those parts afterwards; many received the word of life, and sat down under the teaching of Christ, their Saviour.

When we had visited this sick woman, we returned to our inn, where were two desperate fellows fighting so furiously, that none durst come nigh to part them. But I was moved, in the Lord’s power, to go to them; and when I had loosed their hands, I held one of them by one hand, and the other by the other, showed them the evil of their doings, and reconciled them one to the other, and they were so loving and thankful to me, that people admired at it.^[45]

From thence I passed to Market-Street, where God had a people, and through Alban’s to London, where Friends were glad of the prosperity of truth, and the manifestation of the Lord’s glorious power which had delivered us, and carried us through many dangers and difficulties. I also rejoiced to find truth prosper in the city, and all things well amongst friends there. Only there was one John Toldervey, who had been convinced of truth, and run out from it, and the envious priests took occasion from thence to write a wicked book against Friends, which they stuffed with many lies, to render truth and Friends odious. They entitled their book, “The Foot out of the Snare.” But this poor man came to see his folly and returned, condemned his backsliding, answered the priest’s book, and exposed all their lies and wickedness. Thus the Lord’s power came over them, and his everlasting Seed reigned, and reigns to this day.

Now after I had tarried some time in London, and had visited Friends in their meetings, I went out of town, leaving James Naylor in the city. As I passed from him I cast my eyes upon him, and a fear struck me concerning him; but I went away, and rode down to Ryegate in Surrey, where I had a little meeting. There the Friends told me of one Thomas Moore, a justice of peace, that lived not far from Ryegate, a friendly, moderate man; I went to visit him at his house, and he came to be a serviceable man in truth.

We passed on to Thomas Patching’s, of Binscombe in Godalming, where we had a meeting, to which several Friends came from London, and John Bolton and his wife came on foot in frost and snow. After this we went towards Horsham-Park; and having visited Friends, passed on to Arundel and Chichester, where we had meetings. At Chichester many professors came in, and made some jangling, but the Lord’s power was over them. The woman of the house where the meeting was, though convinced of truth, yet not keeping her mind close to that which convinced her, fell in love with a man of the world, who was there that time. When I knew it, I took her aside, and was moved to speak to her, and to pray for her; but a light thing got up in her mind, and she slighted it. Afterwards she married the man, and soon after went distracted; for he was greatly in debt, and she greatly disappointed. Then was I sent for to her, and the Lord was entreated, raised her up again, and settled her mind by his power. Afterwards her husband died; and she acknowledged the just judgments of God were come upon her, for slighting the exhortation and counsel I had given her.

After we left Chichester, we travelled to Portsmouth. There the soldiers had us to the governor’s house. After some examination, the Lord’s power came over them, and we were set at liberty, and had a meeting in the town. After which we came to Ringwood, where in the evening we had a meeting, at which several were convinced, and turned to the Spirit of the Lord, and to the teaching of Christ Jesus, their Saviour.

From Ringwood we came to Poole; and having set up our horses at an inn, we sent into the town to inquire for such as feared the Lord, and such as were worthy; and had a meeting with several sober people. William Baily, a Baptist teacher, was convinced there at that time.^[46] The people received the truth in the inward parts, and were turned to the Lord Jesus Christ, their rock and foundation, their teacher and Saviour; and there is become a great gathering in the name of Jesus of a very tender people, who continue under Christ’s teaching.

We went also to Southampton and had a meeting; several were convinced there also. Edward Pyot of Bristol travelled with me all this western journey.

From thence we went to Dorchester, and alighted at an inn, a Baptist’s house; we sent into the town to the Baptists, to let us have their meeting-house to meet in, and to invite the sober people to the meeting; but they denied it us. We sent to them again, to know why they would deny us their meeting-house; so the thing was noised in the town. Then we sent them word, if they would not let us come to their house, they, or any people that feared God, might come to our inn, if they pleased. They were in a great rage; and their teacher and many of them came up, and slapped their Bibles on the table. I asked them, why they were so angry; were they angry with the Bible? But they fell into a discourse about their water-baptism. I asked them, whether they could say, they were sent of God to baptise people, as John was; and whether they had the same Spirit and power that the apostles had? They said, they had not. Then I asked them, how many powers there are; whether there are any more than the power of God, and the power of the devil? They said, there was not any other power than those two. Then said I, “if you have not the power of God that the apostles had, then you act by the power of the devil.” Many sober people were present, who said, “they have thrown themselves on their backs.” Many substantial people were convinced that night; a precious service we had there for the Lord, and his power came over all. Next morning, as we were passing away, the Baptists, being in a rage, began to shake the dust off their feet after us. “What,” said I, “in the power of darkness! We, who are in the power of God, shake off the dust of our feet against you.”

Leaving Dorchester, we came to Weymouth; where also we enquired after the sober people; and about fourscore of them gathered together at a priest’s house. Most of them received the word of life, and were turned to their teacher Christ Jesus, who had enlightened them with his divine light, by which they might see their sins, and him who saveth from sin. A blessed meeting we had with them of several hours, and they received the truth in the love of it, with gladness of heart. The state of their teachers and the apostacy was opened to them; and the state of the apostles, and of the church in their days; and the state of the law, and of the prophets before Christ, and how Christ came to fulfil them; how he was their teacher in the apostles’ days, and how he was come now to teach his people himself by his power and Spirit. All was quiet, the meeting broke up peaceably, and the people were very loving; and a meeting is continued in that town to this day. Many are added to them; and some that had been Ranters came to own the truth, and to live very soberly.

There was a captain of horse in the town, who sent to me, and would fain have had me to stay longer; but I was not to stay. He and his man rode out of town with me about seven miles, Edward Pyot also being with me. This captain was the fattest, merriest man, the most cheerful, and the most given to laughter, that ever I met with; insomuch that I was several times moved to speak in the dreadful power of the Lord to him; and yet it was become so customary to him, that he would presently laugh at anything he saw. But I still admonished him to come to sobriety, sincerity, and the fear of the Lord. We staid at an inn that night; and in the morning I was moved to speak to him again, when he parted from us. Next time I saw him, he told me, that when I spoke to him at parting, the power of the Lord so struck him, that before he got home he was serious enough, and had discontinued his laughing. He afterwards was convinced, and became a serious and good man, and died in the truth.

Parting from him we went to Honiton; and at our inn inquired what people there were in the town that feared God, and sent for them. There came to us some of the Particular Baptists, with whom we had much reasoning. I told them, “they held their doctrine of particular election in Esau’s, Cain’s, and Ishmael’s nature; not in Jacob, the second birth; but they must be born again, before they could enter the kingdom of God. And that as the promise of God was to the Seed, not as many, but as one, which is Christ; so the election stands in Christ; and they must be such as walk in his light, grace, Spirit, and truth.”

From thence we passed to Topsham, and stayed over the First-day; but the innkeeper and his people were rude. Next morning we gave forth some queries to the priests and professors; whereupon some rude professors came into our inn; and had we not gone when we did, they would have stopped us. I wore a girdle, which through forgetfulness I left behind me at the inn, and afterwards sent to the innkeeper for, but he would not let me have it again. Afterwards, when he was tormented in his mind about it, he took it and burnt it, lest he should be bewitched by it, as he said; yet when he had burnt it, he was more tormented than before. Some, notwithstanding the rudeness of the place, were convinced; and a meeting was afterwards settled in that town, which has continued ever since.

After this we passed to Totness, a dark town. We lodged at an inn, and at night Edward Pyot was sick, but the Lord’s power healed him, so that next day we got to Kingsbridge, and at our inn inquired for the sober people of the town. They directed us to Nicholas Tripe and his wife, and we went to their house. They sent for the priest, with whom we had some discourse; but he being confounded, quickly left us. Nicholas Tripe and his wife were convinced; and there is since a good meeting of Friends in that country. In the evening we returned to our inn; and there being many people drinking in the house, I was moved of the Lord to go amongst them, and to direct them to the light, which Christ, the heavenly Man, had enlightened them withal; by which they might see all their evil ways, words, and deeds, and by the same light they might also see Jesus Christ their Saviour. The innkeeper stood uneasy, seeing it hindered his guests from drinking; and as soon as the last words were out of my mouth, he snatched up the candle, and said, “Come, here is a light for you to go into your chamber.” Next morning, when he was cool, I represented to him “what an uncivil thing it was for him to do so;” then warning him of the day of the Lord, we got ready and passed away.

We came next day to Plymouth, and after having refreshed ourselves at our inn, we went to Robert Cary’s house, where we had a very precious meeting. At this meeting was one Elizabeth Trelawny, daughter to a baronet; she being somewhat dull of hearing came close to me, and placed her ear very near me while I spoke; and she was convinced. After the meeting some jangling Baptists came in, but the Lord’s power came over them, and Elizabeth Trelawney gave testimony thereto. A fine meeting was settled there in the Lord’s power, which has continued ever since; where many faithful Friends have been convinced.

From thence we passed into Cornwall, and came to an inn in the parish of Menheniot. At night we had a meeting at Edward Hancock’s house, to which came one Thomas Mounce, and a priest, with many people. We made the priest confess he was a minister made and maintained by the state; and he was confounded and went his way; but many of the people stayed. I directed them to the “light of Christ, by which they might see their sins, and their Saviour Christ Jesus, the way to God, and their Mediator to make peace between God and them; their Shepherd to feed them, and their Prophet to teach them. I directed them also to the Spirit of God in themselves, by which they might know the Scriptures, and be led into all truth; by which they might know God, and in it have unity one with another.” Many were convinced at that time, and came under Christ’s teaching, and there are fine gatherings in the name of Jesus in those parts at this day.

We travelled thence through Penryn to Helston; but could not obtain knowledge of any sober people, through the badness of the innkeepers. At length we came to a village where some Baptists and sober people lived, with whom we had some discourse; and some of them were brought to confess, that they stumbled at the light of Christ. They would have had us to stay with them, but we passed thence to Market-Jew (Marazion); and having taken up our lodging at an inn, we went out over-night to inquire for such as feared the Lord. Next morning the mayor and aldermen gathered together, with the high-sheriff of the county; and they sent first the constables to bid us come before them. We asked them for their warrant, and they saying they had none, we told them we should not go along with them without. Upon the return of the constables without us, they sent their serjeants, and we asked them for their warrant. They said, they had none; but they told us, the mayor and aldermen stayed for us. We told them, the mayor and his company did not well to trouble us in our inn, and we should not go with them without a warrant. So they went away and came again; and when we asked them for their warrant, one of them pulled his mace from under his cloak; we asked them whether this was their custom to molest and trouble strangers in their inns and lodgings? After some time Edward Pyot went to the mayor and aldermen, and had much discourse with them; but the Lord’s power gave him dominion over them all. When he had returned, several of the officers came to us, and we laid before them the incivility and unworthiness of their conduct towards us, who were the servants of the Lord God, thus to stop and trouble us in our lodgings; and what an unchristian act it was. Before we left the town I wrote a paper, to be sent to the seven parishes at the Land’s End. A copy of which follows:—

This paper a Friend who was then with me had; and when we were gone three or four miles from Market-Jew towards the west, he meeting with a man upon the road, gave him a copy of the paper. This man proved to be a servant to one Peter Ceely, major in the army, and a justice of peace in that county; and he riding before us to a place called St. Ives, showed the paper to his master, Major Ceely. When we came to IVES, Edward Pyot’s horse having cast a shoe, we stayed to have it set; and while he was getting his horse shod, I walked down to the sea-side. When I returned I found the town in an uproar; and they were hailing Edward Pyot and the other Friend before Major Ceely. I followed them into the justice’s house, though they did not lay hands upon me. When we came in, the house was full of rude people; whereupon I asked whether there were not an officer among them to keep the people civil? Major Ceely said, he was a magistrate. I told him, “he should show forth gravity and sobriety then, and use his authority to keep the people civil; for I never saw any people ruder: the Indians were more like Christians than they.” After a while they brought forth the paper aforesaid, and asked whether I would own it? I said, yes. Then he tendered the oath of abjuration to us; whereupon I put my hand in my pocket and drew forth the answer to it, which had been given to the Protector. After I had given him that, he examined us severally, one by one. He had with him a silly, young priest, who asked us many frivolous questions; and amongst the rest he desired to cut my hair, which then was pretty long; but I was not to cut it though many times many were offended at it. I told them, “I had no pride in it, and it was not of my own putting on.” At length the justice put us under a guard of soldiers, who were hard and wild, like the justice himself; nevertheless “we warned the people of the day of the Lord, and declared the truth to them.” The next day he sent us, guarded by a party of horse with swords and pistols, to Redruth.

On First-day the soldiers would have taken us away; but we told them it was their Sabbath, and it was not usual to travel on that day. Several of the town’s-people gathered about us, and whilst I held the soldiers in discourse, Edward Pyot spoke to the people; and afterwards he held the soldiers in discourse whilst I spoke to the people; and in the mean time the other Friend got out the back way, and went to the steeple-house to speak to the priest and people. The people were exceedingly desperate, in a mighty rage against him, and abused him. The soldiers also missing him, were in a great rage, ready to kill us; but I declared the day of the Lord, and the word of eternal life to the people that gathered about us. In the afternoon the soldiers were resolved to have us away, so we took horse. When we were got to the town’s-end, I was moved of the Lord to go back again, to speak to the old man of the house; the soldiers drew out their pistols, and swore I should not go back. I heeded them not, but rode back, and they rode after me. I cleared myself to the old man and the people, and then returned with them, and reproved them for being so rude and violent.

At night we were brought to a town called Smethick then, but since Falmouth. It being the evening of the First-day, there came to our inn the chief constable of the place, and many sober people, some of whom began to inquire concerning us. We told them we were prisoners for truth’s sake; and much discourse we had with them concerning the things of God. They were very sober and loving to us. Some were convinced and stood faithful ever after.

After the constable and these people were gone, other people came in, who were also very civil, and went away very loving. When all were gone we went to our chamber to go to bed, and about eleven o’clock Edward Pyot said, “I will shut the door, it may be some may come to do us some mischief.” Afterwards we understood that Captain Keat, who commanded the party, had purposed to do us some mischief that night; but the door being bolted he missed his design. Next morning Captain Keat brought a kinsman of his, a rude, wicked man, and put him into the room, he himself standing without. The evil-minded man walking huffing up and down the room, I bid him fear the Lord; whereupon he ran upon me, struck me with both his hands; and placing his leg behind me, would have fain thrown me down, but he could not for I stood stiff and still, and let him strike. As I looked towards the door, I saw Captain Keat look on and see his kinsman thus beat and abuse me. Whereupon I said, “Keat, dost thou allow this?” and he said, he did; “Is this manly or civil,” said I, “to have us under a guard and put a man to abuse and beat us? is this manly, civil, or christian?” I desired one of our friends to send for the constables, and they came. Then I desired the captain to let the constables see his warrant or order, by which he was to carry us; which he did; and his warrant was to conduct us safe to Captain Fox, governor of Pendennis Castle; and if the governor should not be at home, he was to convey us to Launceston jail. I told him, he had broken his order concerning us; for we, who were his prisoners, were to be safely conducted, but he had brought a man to beat and abuse us; so he having broken his order, I wished the constable to keep the warrant. Accordingly he did, and told the soldiers they might go, for he would take charge of the prisoners; and if it cost twenty shillings in charges to carry us up, they should not have the warrant again. I showed the soldiers the baseness of their carriage towards us; and they walked up and down the house, being pitifully blank and down. The constables went to the castle, and told the officers what they had done. The officers showed great dislike of Captain Keat’s base carriage towards us; and told the constables that Major-General Desborough was coming to Bodmin, and that we should meet him; and it was likely he would free us. Meanwhile our old guard of soldiers came by way of entreaty to us, and promised that they would be civil to us, if we would go with them. Thus the morning was spent till it was about eleven o’clock; and then upon the soldiers’ entreaty, and promise to be more civil, the constables gave them the order again, and we went with them. Great was the civility and courtesy of the constables and people of that town towards us, who kindly entertained us; and the Lord rewarded them with his truth; for many of them have since been convinced thereof, and are gathered into the name of Jesus, and sit under Christ, their teacher and Saviour.

Captain Keat, who commanded our guard, understanding that Captain Fox, who was the governor of Pendennis Castle, was gone to meet Major-General Desborough, did not take us thither; but went with us directly to Bodmin. We met Major-General Desborough on the way; the captain of his troop that rode before him, knew me, and said, “O, Mr. Fox, what do you here?” I replied, “I am a prisoner.” “Alack,” said he, “for what?” I told him, “I was taken up as I was travelling.” “Then,” said he, “I will speak to my lord, and he will set you at liberty.” So he came from the head of his troop, rode up to the coach, and spoke to the major-general. We also told him how we were taken. He began to speak against the light of Christ, for which I reproved him; then he told the soldiers they might carry us to Launceston; for he could not stay to talk with us, lest his horses should take cold.

So to Bodmin we were conveyed that night; and when we were come to our inn, Captain Keat, who was in before us, put me into a room, and went his way. When I was come in, there stood a man with a naked rapier in his hand. Whereupon I turned out again, called for Captain Keat, and said unto him, “What now, Keat, what trick hast thou played now, to put me into a room where there is a man with his naked rapier? what is thy end in this?” “O,” said he, “pray hold your tongue; for if you speak to this man, we cannot all rule him, he is so devilish.” “Then,” said I, “dost thou put me into a room where there is such a man with a naked rapier, that thou sayest you cannot rule him? what an unworthy, base trick is this! and to put me singly into this room from the rest of my friends, that were my fellow prisoners with me!” Thus his plot was discovered, and the mischief they intended was prevented. Afterwards we got another room, where we were together all night; and in the evening we declared the truth to the people; but they were hardened and dark people. The soldiers also, notwithstanding their fair promises, were very rude and wicked to us again, and sat up drinking and roaring all night.

Next day we were brought to Launceston, where Captain Keat delivered us to the jailer. Now was there no friend, nor friendly people near us; and the people of the town were dark and hardened. The jailer required us to pay seven shillings a-week for our horse-meat, and seven for our diet a piece. But after some time several sober people came to see us, and some of the town were convinced; and many friendly people out of several parts of the country, came to visit us, and were convinced. Then arose a great rage among the professors and priests against us; and they said, this people Thou and Thee all men without respect, and they will not put off their hats, nor bow the knee to any man: this made them fret. But, said they, we shall see, when the assize comes, whether they will dare to Thou and Thee the judge, and keep on their hats before him. They expected we should be hanged at the assize. But all this was little to us; for we saw how God would stain the world’s honour and glory, and were commanded not to seek that honour, nor give it; but we knew the honour that comes from God only, and sought that.

It was nine weeks from the time of our commitment to the assizes, to which abundance of people came from far and near to hear the trial of the Quakers. Captain Bradden lay with his troop of horse there, whose soldiers and the sheriff’s men guarded us up to the court through the multitude of people that filled the streets; and much ado they had to get us through them. Besides, the doors and windows were filled with people looking out upon us. When we were brought into the court, we stood some time with our hats on, and all was quiet; and I was moved to say, “Peace be amongst you!” Judge Glynne, a Welchman, then chief justice of England, said to the jailer, “what be these you have brought here into the court?” “Prisoners, my Lord,” said he. “Why do you not put off your hats?” said the judge to us: we said nothing. “Put off your hats,” said the judge again. Still we said nothing. Then said the judge, “The court commands you to put off your hats.” Then I spoke, and said, “Where did ever any magistrate, king, or judge, from Moses to Daniel, command any to put off their hats, when they came before them in their courts, either amongst the Jews, the people of God, or amongst the heathens? and if the law of England doth command any such thing, show me that law either written or printed.” Then the judge grew very angry, and said, “I do not carry my law-books on my back.” “But,” said I, “tell me where it is printed in any statute-book, that I may read it.” Then said the judge, “Take him away, prevaricator! I’ll jerk him.” So they took us away, and put us among the thieves. Presently after he calls to the jailer, “Bring them up again.” “Come,” said he, “where had they hats from Moses to Daniel; come, answer me: I have you fast now,” said he. I replied, “Thou mayest read in the third of Daniel, that the three children were cast into the fiery furnace by Nebuchadnezzar’s command, with their coats, their hose, and their hats on.” This plain instance stopped him: so that not having any thing else to say to the point, he cried again, “Take them away, jailer.” Accordingly we were taken away, and thrust in among the thieves, where we were kept a great while; and then, without being called again, the sheriff’s men and the troopers made way for us (but we were almost spent) to get through the crowd of people, and guarded us to the prison again, a multitude of people following us, with whom we had much discourse and reasoning at the jail. We had some good books to set forth our principles, and to inform people of the truth: which the judge and justices hearing of, they sent Captain Bradden for them, who came into the jail to us, and violently took our books from us, some out of Edward Pyot’s hands, and carried them away; so we never got them again.

In the afternoon we were had up again into the court by the jailer and sheriff’s men, and troopers, who had a mighty toil to get us through the crowd of people. When we were in the court, waiting to be called, I seeing both the jurymen, and such a multitude of others swearing, it grieved my life, that such as professed Christianity should so openly disobey and break the command of Christ and the apostle. And I was moved of the Lord to give forth a paper against swearing, which I had about me, to the grand and petty juries; which was as follows:—

This paper passing among them from the jury to the justices, they presented it to the judge; so that when we were called before the judge, he bade the clerk give me that paper; and then asked me, “whether that seditious paper was mine;” I told him, “If they would read it up in open court, that I might hear it, if it was mine I would own it, and stand by it.” He would have had me to take it, and look upon it in my own hand; but “I again desired that it might be read, that all the country might hear it, and judge whether there was any sedition in it or not; for if there were I was willing to suffer for it.” At last the clerk of the assize read it with an audible voice, that all the people might hear it: and when he had done, I told them, “it was my paper; I would own it; and so might they too, except they would deny the Scripture: for was not this Scripture language, and the words and commands of Christ, and the apostle, which all true Christians ought to obey?” Then they let fall that subject; and the judge fell upon us about our hats again, bidding the jailer take them off, which he did, and gave them to us; and we put them on again. Then we asked the judge and the justices, what we had lain in prison for these nine weeks, seeing they now objected nothing to us but about our hats; and as for putting off our hats, I told them, that was the honour which God would lay in the dust, though they made so much to do about it; the honour which is of men, and which men seek one of another, and is the mark of unbelievers. For “how can ye believe,” saith Christ, “who receive honour one of another, and seek not the honour that cometh from God only?” and Christ saith, “I receive not honour from men;” and all true Christians should be of his mind.

Then the judge began to make a great speech, how he represented the lord Protector’s person; who had made him lord chief justice of England, and sent him to come that circuit, &c. We desired him then, that he would do us justice for our false imprisonment, which we had suffered nine weeks wrongfully. But instead of that, they brought in an indictment, that they had framed against us; so strange a thing, and so full of lies, that I thought it had been against some of the thieves; that we came “by force and arms, and in a hostile manner into the court;” who were brought, as aforesaid. I told them, “it was false:” and still we cried for justice for our false imprisonment, being taken up in our journey without cause by Major Ceely. Then Peter Ceely spoke to the judge, and said, “May it please you, my lord, this man (pointing to me), went aside with me, and told me how serviceable I might be for his design; that he could raise forty thousand men at an hour’s warning, and involve the nation in blood, and so bring in King Charles. I would have aided him out of the country, but he would not go. If it please you, my lord, I have a witness to swear it.” So he called upon his witness; but the judge not being forward to examine the witness, I desired that he would be pleased to let my mittimus be read in the face of the court and country, in which my crime was signified, for which I was sent to prison. The judge said, “it should not be read;” I said, “it ought to be, seeing it concerned my liberty and my life.” The judge said again, “It shall not be read;” but I said, “it ought to be read; for if I have done anything worthy of death, or of bonds, let all the country know it.” Then seeing they would not read it, I spoke to one of my fellow-prisoners, “Thou hast a copy of it, read it up,” said I. “It shall not be read,” said the judge; “Jailer,” said he, “take him away, I will see whether he or I shall be master.” So I was taken away; and a while after called for again. I still cried to have my mittimus read; for that signified the cause of my commitment: wherefore I again spoke to the friend, my fellow prisoner, to read it. He did read it, and the judge, justices, and whole court were silent; for the people were eager to hear it. It was as follows:—