After the assize, Colonel Kirby and some other justices were very uneasy with my being at Lancaster; for I had galled them sore at my trials there, and they laboured much to get me removed to some remote place. Colonel Kirby threatened I should be sent far enough, and sometimes said, I should be sent beyond sea. About six weeks after the assizes, they got an order from the king and council to remove me from Lancaster; and with it they brought a letter from the Earl of Anglesea, wherein was written, “that if those things were found true against me, which I was charged withal, I deserved no clemency or mercy:” yet the greatest matter they had against me was, because I could not disobey the command of Christ, and swear.

When they had prepared for my removal, the under-sheriff and the head-sheriff’s man, with some bailiffs, came and fetched me out of the castle, when I was so weak with lying in that cold, wet, and smoky prison, that I could hardly go or stand. They had me into the jailer’s house, where were William Kirby, a justice, and several others, and they called for wine to give me. I told them, “I would have none of their wine.” Then they cried, “Bring out the horses.” I desired them first to show me their order, or a copy of it, if they intended to remove me; but they would show me none but their swords. I told them, “there was no sentence passed upon me, nor was I premunired, that I knew of; and therefore I was not made the king’s prisoner, but was the sheriff’s; for they and all the country knew, that I was not fully heard at the last assize, nor suffered to show the errors that were in the indictment, which were sufficient to quash it, though they had kept me from one assize to another, to the end they might try me. But they all knew, there was no sentence of premunire passed upon me; and therefore not being the king’s prisoner, but the sheriff’s, I desired to see their order.” Instead of showing me their order, they haled me out, and lifted me upon one of the sheriff’s horses. When I was on horseback in the street, the town’s-people being gathered to gaze upon me, I told the officers, I had received neither Christianity, civility, nor humanity, from them. They hurried me away about fourteen miles to Bentham, though I was so very weak, I was hardly able to sit on horseback; and my clothes smelt so of smoke, that they were loathsome to myself. The wicked jailer, one Hunter, a young fellow, would come behind, and give the horse a lash with his whip, and make him skip, and leap; so that I being weak, had difficulty to sit him; and then he would come and look me in the face, and say, “How do you, Mr. Fox?” I told him, “it was not civil in him to do so.” The Lord cut him off soon after.

When we were come to Bentham, there met us many troopers, and a marshal; and many of the gentry of the country were come in, and abundance of people to stare at me. I being very weak and weary, desired them to let me lie down on a bed, which the soldiers permitted me; for they that brought me thither, gave their order to the marshal, and he set a guard of his soldiers upon me. When they had stayed a while, they pressed horses, and raised the bailiff of the hundred, and the constables, and others, and had me to Giggleswick that night; but exceedingly weak I was. There they raised the constables with their clog-shoes, who sat drinking all the night in the room by me, so that I could not get much rest. Next day we came to a market-town, where several Friends called to see me; and Robert Widders and divers Friends came to me on the road. The next night I asked the soldiers, “whither they intended to carry me, and whither I was to be sent?” Some of them said, “beyond sea;” others said, “to Tynemouth Castle.” A great fear there was amongst them, lest some one should rescue me out of their hands; but that fear was needless.

Next night we came to York, where the marshal put me into a great chamber, where most part of two troops came to see me. One of these troopers, an envious man, hearing that I must be premunired, asked me, “what estate I had, and whether it was copyhold or free land?” I took no notice of his question, but was moved to declare the word of life to the soldiers, and many of them were very loving. At night the Lord Frecheville (so called), who commanded these horse, came to me, and was very civil and loving. I gave him an account of my imprisonment, and declared many things to him relating to truth. They kept me at York two days, and then the marshal and four or five soldiers were sent to convey me to Scarbro’ Castle. Indeed these were very civil men, and carried themselves civilly and lovingly to me. On the way we baited at Malton, and they permitted Friends to come and visit me. When we were come to Scarbro’, they had me to an inn, and gave notice to the governor, who sent six soldiers to be my guard that night. Next day they conducted me into the castle, put me into a room, and set a sentry on me. Being very weak and subject to fainting, they let me go out sometimes into the air with the sentry. They soon removed me out of this room, and put me into an open one, where the rain came in; and smoked exceedingly, which was very offensive to me.

One day the governor, Sir J. Crossland, came to see me, and brought with him Sir Francis Cobb. I desired the governor to go into my room, and see what a place I had. I had got a little fire made in it, and it was so filled with smoke, that when they were in it, they could hardly find their way out again; and he being a Papist, I told him, that was his Purgatory which they had put me into. I was forced to lay out about fifty shillings to stop out the rain, and keep the room from smoking so much. When I had been at that charge, and made it somewhat tolerable, they removed me into a worse room, wherewhere I had neither chimney nor fire-hearth. This being to the sea-side and lying much open, the wind drove in the rain forcibly, so that the water came over my bed, and ran about the room, that I was fain to skim it up with a platter. And when my clothes were wet, I had no fire to dry them; so that my body was benumbed with cold, and my fingers swelled, that one was grown as big as two. Though I was at some charge in this room also, I could not keep out the wind and rain. Besides they would suffer few Friends to come to me, and many times not any, no, not so much as to bring me a little food; but I was forced for the first quarter to hire one, not a Friend, to bring me necessaries. Sometimes the soldiers would take it from her, and she would scuffle with them for it. Afterwards I hired a soldier to fetch me water and bread, and something to make a fire of, when I was in a room where a fire could be made. Commonly a threepenny loaf served me three weeks, and sometimes longer, and most of my drink was water with wormwood steeped or bruised in it. One time when the weather was very sharp, and I had taken great cold, I got a little elecampane beer, and I heard one of the soldiers say to the other, that they would play me a trick, for they would send for me up to the deputy-governor, and in the meantime drink my strong beer out; and so they did. When I came back, one of the soldiers came to me in a jeer, and asked me for some strong beer. I told him they had played their pretty trick; and so I took no further notice of it.

But inasmuch as they kept me so very strait, not giving liberty for Friends to come to me, I spoke to the keepers of the castle to this effect: “I did not know till I was removed from Lancaster castle, and brought prisoner to this castle of Scarbro’, that I was convicted of a premunire; for the judge did not give sentence upon me at the assizes in open court. But seeing I am now a prisoner here, if I may not have my liberty, let my friends and acquaintance have their liberty to come and visit me, as Paul’s friends had among the Romans, who were not Christians but Heathens. For Paul’s friends had their liberty; all that would, might come to him, and he had his liberty to preach to them in his hired house; but I cannot have liberty to go into the town, nor for my friends to come to me here. So you that go under the name of Christians, are worse in this respect than those heathens were.”

But though they would not let Friends come to me, they would often bring others, either to gaze upon me, or to contend with me. One time a great company of Papists came to discourse with me; they affirmed, “the Pope was infallible, and had stood infallible ever since Peter’s time.” But I showed them the contrary by history; for one of the bishops of Rome, (Marcellinus by name,) denied the faith and sacrificed to idols; therefore he was not infallible. I told them, if they were in the infallible spirit, they need not have jails, swords, and staves, racks and tortures, fires and faggots, whips and gallows, to hold up their religion by, and to destroy men’s lives about it; for if they were in the infallible spirit they would preserve men’s lives, and use none but spiritual weapons about religion. I told them also what one that had been of their society told me. A woman who lived in Kent, had not only been a Papist herself, but had brought over several to that religion; but coming to be convinced of God’s truth, and turned by it to Christ her Saviour, she exhorted the Papists to the same. One of them, a tailor, being at work at her house, while she opened to him the falseness of the Popish religion, and endeavoured to draw him from it to the truth, drew his knife, and got between her and the door; but she spoke boldly to him, and bid him put up his knife, for she knew his principle. I asked the woman, “what she thought he would have done with his knife?” She said, “he would have stabbed her.” “Stabbed thee,” said I, “what would he have stabbed thee for? thy religion.” “Yes,” said she, “it is the principle of the Papists, if any turn from their religion, to kill them if they can.” This story I told those Papists, and that I had it from a person that had been one of them, but had forsaken their principles and discovered their practices. They did not deny this to be their principle; but said, “What! would I declare this abroad?” I told them, “yes, such things ought to be declared abroad; that it might be known how contrary their religion was to true Christianity.” Whereupon they went away in a great rage.

Another Papist came to discourse with me, who said all the patriarchs were in hell, from the creation till Christ came, and that when Christ suffered he went into hell, and the Devil said to him “What comest thou hither for, to break open our strongholds?” And Christ said, “to fetch them all out.” So he said, “Christ was three nights and three days in hell, to bring them out.” I told him that was false, for Christ said to the thief, “This day thou shalt be with me in paradise.” And Enoch and Elijah were translated into heaven. And Abraham was in heaven, for the Scripture saith, Lazarus was in his bosom; and Moses and Elias were with Christ upon the Mount before he suffered. These instances stopped the Papist’s mouth, and put him to a stand.

Another time came Dr. Witty, who was esteemed a great doctor of physic, with Lord Falconbridge; with these came also the governor of Tynemouth castle, and several knights. Being called to them, Witty undertook to discourse with me, and asked me, “what I was in prison for?” I told him, “because I would not disobey the command of Christ, and swear.” He said, “I ought to swear my allegiance to the king.” He being a great Presbyterian, I asked him, “whether he had not sworn against the King, and House of Lords, and taken the Scotch covenant? and had he not since sworn to the king? and what then was his swearing good for? But my allegiance,” I told him, “did not consist in swearing, but in truth and faithfulness.” After some further discourse, I was sent away to my prison again. And afterwards this Dr. Witty boasted in the town amongst his patients, that he had conquered me. When I heard of his boasting, I told the governor, “it was a small boast in him to say he had conquered a bondman.” I desired to bid him visit me again, when he came to the castle.

He came again a while after, with sixteen or seventeen great persons; and ran himself worse on ground than before. For he affirmed before them all, “that Christ hath not enlightened every man that cometh into the world; and that the grace of God, that bringeth salvation, hath not appeared unto all men; and that Christ died not for all men.” I asked him, “what sort of men those were whom Christ had not enlightened? and to whom his grace had not appeared? and for whom he had not died?” He said, “Christ did not die for adulterers, and idolaters, and wicked men.” I asked him, “whether adulterers and wicked men were not sinners?” He said, “Yes.” “And did not Christ die for sinners?” said I. “Did he not come to call sinners to repentance?” “Yes,” said he. “Then,” said I, “thou hast stopped thy own mouth.” So I proved that the grace of God had appeared unto all men, though some turned it into wantonness, and walked despitefully against it; and that Christ had enlightened all men, though some hated the light. Several of the people that were present, confessed it was true; but he went away in a great rage, and came no more to me.

Another time the governor brought a priest, but his mouth was soon stopped. Not long after he brought two or three parliament-men, who asked me, “whether I owned ministers and bishops?” I told them, “yes, such as Christ sent, such as had freely received, and would freely give, such as were qualified, and were in the same power and Spirit that they were in in the apostles’ days. But such bishops and teachers as theirs were, that would go no farther than a great benefice, I did not own; for they were not like the apostles. Christ saith to his ministers, ‘Go ye into all nations, and preach the gospel;’ but ye parliament-men, who keep your priests and bishops in such great fat benefices, have spoiled them all. For do ye think they will go into all nations to preach; or any farther than they have a great fat benefice? Judge yourselves whether they will or not.”

There came another time the widow of old Lord Fairfax, and with her a great company; one of whom was a priest. I was moved to declare the truth to them, and the priest asked me, “Why we said, Thou and Thee to people? for he counted us but fools and idiots for speaking so.” I asked him, “Whether they that translated the Scriptures, and that made the grammar and accidence, were fools and idiots, seeing they translated the Scriptures so, and made the grammar so, Thou to one, and You to more than one, and left it so to us. If they were fools and idiots, why had not he, and such as he, that looked upon themselves as wise men, and that could not bear Thou and Thee to a singular, altered the grammar, accidence, and Bible, and put the plural instead of the singular. But if they were wise men that had so translated the Bible, and had made the grammar and accidence so, I wished him to consider whether they were not fools and idiots themselves, that did not speak as their grammars and Bibles taught them; but were offended with us, and called us fools and idiots for speaking so?” Thus the priest’s mouth was stopped, and many of the company acknowledged the truth, and were pretty loving and tender. Some of them would have given me money, but I would not receive it.

After this came Dr. Cradock, with three priests more, and the governor and his lady (so called) and another that was called a lady, and a great company with them. Dr. Cradock asked me, “what I was in prison for?” I told him, “for obeying the command of Christ and the apostle, in not swearing. But if he, being both a doctor and a justice of peace, could convince me, that after Christ and the apostle had forbidden swearing, they commanded Christians to swear, then I would swear. Here was the Bible,” I told him, “he might, if he could, show me any such command.” He said, “It is written, ‘ye shall swear in truth and righteousness.’” “Ay,” said I, “It was written so in Jeremiah’s time; but that was many ages before Christ commanded, ‘not to swear at all;’ but where is it written so, since Christ forbade all swearing? I could bring as many instances for swearing out of the Old Testament as thou, and it may be more; but of what force are they to prove swearing lawful in the New Testament, since Christ and the apostle had forbade it? Besides,” said I, “in that text, where it is written, ye shall swear, what ye was this? Was it ye Gentiles, or ye Jews?” To this he would not answer. But one of the priests that were with him answered, “it was to the Jews that this was spoken.” Then Dr. Cradock confessed it was so. “Very well,” said I, “but where did God ever give a command to the Gentiles to swear? For thou knowest that we are Gentiles by nature.” “Indeed,” said he, “in the gospel-times everything was to be established out of the mouths of two or three witnesses; but there was to be no swearing then.” “Why then,” said I, “dost thou force oaths upon Christians, contrary to thy own knowledge, in the gospel-times. And why dost thou excommunicate my friends?” (for he had excommunicated abundance, both in Yorkshire and Lancashire). He said, “for not coming to church.” “Why,” said I, “Ye left us above twenty years ago, when we were but young lads and lasses, to the Presbyterians, Independents and Baptists, many of whom made spoil of our goods and persecuted us, because we would not follow them. Now we being but young, knew little then of your principles; and if ye had intended to keep the old men that did know them, to you, and your principles alive, that we might have known them, ye should either not have fled from us as ye did, or ye should have sent us your epistles, collects, homilies, and evening-songs, for Paul wrote epistles to the saints, though he was in prison. But they and we might have turned Turks or Jews for any collects, homilies, or epistles, we had from you all this while. And now thou hast excommunicated us, both young and old, and so have others of you done: that is, ye have put us out of your church, before ye have got us into it, and before ye have brought us to know your principles. Is not this madness in you, to put us out before we were brought in? Indeed, if ye had brought us into your church, and when we had been in, if we had done some bad thing, that had been something like a ground for excommunication or putting out again. But,” said I, “what dost thou call the church?” “Why,” said he, “that which you call the steeple-house.” Then I asked him, “whether Christ shed his blood for the steeple-house; and purchased and sanctified the steeple-house with his blood? And seeing the church is Christ’s bride and wife, and that he is the head of the church, dost thou think the steeple-house is Christ’s wife and bride, and that he is the head of that old house, or his people?” “No,” said he, “Christ is the head of the people, and they are the church.” “Then,” said I, “but you have given the title, church, which belongs to the people, to an old house, and you have taught people to believe so.”

I asked him also, “why he persecuted Friends for not paying tithes? And whether God ever gave a command to the Gentiles, that they should pay tithes? And whether Christ had not ended tithes, when he ended the Levitical priesthood that took tithes? And whether Christ when he sent forth his disciples to preach, had not commanded them to preach freely, as he had given them freely? And whether all ministers of Christ, are not bound to observe this command of Christ?” He said, “he would not dispute that;” neither did I find he was willing to stay on that subject, for he presently turned to another matter, and said, “you marry, but I know not how.” I replied, “it may be so; but why dost thou not come and see?” Then he threatened that he would use his power against us as he had done. “I bid him take heed, for he was an old man.” I asked him also, “where he read from Genesis to the Revelations, that ever any priest did marry any?” And I wished him to show me some instance thereof, if he would have us come to them to be married; “for” said I, “thou hast excommunicated one of my friends, two years after he was dead, about his marriage. And why dost thou not excommunicate Isaac, and Jacob, and Boaz, and Ruth? Why dost thou not use thy power against these; for we do not read that they were ever married by the priests; but they took one another in the assemblies of the righteous, in the presence of God and his people; and so do we. So that we have all the holy men and women, that the Scripture speaks of in this practice, on our side.” Much discourse we had, but when he found he could get no advantage over me, he went away with his company.

With such people I was much exercised while I was there; for most that came to the castle would desire to speak with me, and great disputes I had with them. But, as to Friends, I was as a man buried alive: for though many came far to see me, yet few were suffered to come to me: and when any Friend came into the castle about business, if he looked towards me they would rage at him. At last the governor came under some trouble himself; for he having sent out a privateer to sea, they took some ships that were not enemies’ ships, but their friends’; whereupon he was brought into trouble; after which he grew somewhat more friendly to me. For before I had a marshal set over me, on purpose to get money out of me,me, but I was not free to give him a farthing; and when they found they could get nothing from me, he was taken away again. The officers often threatened that I should be hanged over the wall. Nay, the deputy-governor told me once that the king, knowing I had a great interest in the people, had sent me thither, that if there should be any stirring in the nation, they should hang me over the wall to keep the people down. There being, a while after, a marriage at a Papist’s house, upon which occasion a great many of them were met together, they talked much then of hanging me. But I told them, “if that was what they desired, and it was permitted them, I was ready; for I never feared death nor sufferings in my life, but I was known to be an innocent, peaceable man, free from all stirrings and plottings, and one that sought the good of all men.” Afterwards, the governor growing kinder, I spoke to him when he was going to London to the Parliament, and desired him to speak to Esquire Marsh, Sir Francis Cobb (so called), and some others; and let them know how long I had lain in prison, and for what; and he did so. When he came down again, he told me, that Esquire Marsh^[9] said he would go a hundred miles barefoot for my liberty, he knew me so well; and several others, he said, spoke well of me. From which time the governor was very loving to me.

There were, amongst the prisoners, two very bad men, that often sat drinking with the officers and soldiers; and because I would not sit and drink with them too, it made them the worse against me. One time when these two prisoners were drunk, one of them (whose name was William Wilkinson, a Presbyterian who had been a captain), came to me and challenged me to fight with him. Seeing what condition he was in, I got out of his way; and, next morning, when he was more sober, showed him, “how unmanly it was in him to challenge a man to fight, whose principle, he knew, it was not to strike; but if he was stricken on one ear to turn the other. I told him, if he had a mind to fight, he should have challenged some of the soldiers, that could have answered him in his own way. But however, seeing he had challenged me, I was now come to answer him with my hands in my pockets; and (reaching my head towards him) ‘here,’ said I, ‘here is my hair, here are my cheeks, here is my back.’” With that he skipped away from me, and went into another room; at which the soldiers fell a laughing; and one of the officers said, “you are a happy man, that can bear such things.” Thus he was conquered without a blow. After a while he took the oath, gave bond, and got out of prison; and not long after the Lord cut him off.

There were great imprisonments in this, and the former year, while I was prisoner at Lancaster and Scarbro’. At London many Friends were crowded into Newgate, and other prisons, where the sickness was; and many died in prison.^[10] Many also were banished, and several sent on shipboard by the king’s order. Some masters of ships would not carry them, but set them on shore again; yet some were sent to Barbadoes, to Jamaica, and to Nevis, and the Lord blessed them there. One master of a ship was very wicked and cruel to Friends that were put on board his vessel; for he kept them down under decks, though the sickness was amongst them; so that many died of it. But the Lord visited him for his wickedness; for he lost most of his seamen by the plague, and lay several months crossed with contrary winds, though other ships went out and made their voyages. At last he came before Plymouth, and there the governor and magistrates would not suffer him, or any of his men, to land, though he wanted many necessaries for his voyage; but Thomas Lower, Arthur Cotton, John Light, and other Friends, went to the ship’s side and carried necessaries for the Friends that were prisoners on board. The master being thus crossed and vexed, cursed them that put upon him this freight, and said, “he hoped he should not go far before he was taken.” And the vessel was but just out of sight of Plymouth before she was taken by a Dutch man-of-war, and carried into Holland. When they came there, the States sent the banished Friends back to England, with a passport, and a certificate, “that they had not made an escape, but were sent back by them.” In time the Lord’s power wrought over this storm, and many of our persecutors were confounded and put to shame.^[11]

After I had lain prisoner above a year in Scarbro’ Castle, I sent a letter to the king, in which I gave him “an account of my imprisonment, and the bad usage I had received in prison; and also that I was informed, no man could deliver me but he.” After this, John Whitehead being at London, and being acquainted with Esquire Marsh, went to visit him, and spoke to him about me; and he undertook, if John Whitehead would get the state of my case drawn up, to deliver it to the master of requests, Sir John Birkenhead, and endeavour to get a release for me. So John Whitehead and Ellis Hookes^[12] drew up an account of my imprisonment and sufferings, and carried it to Marsh; and he went with it to the master of requests, who procured an order from the king for my release. The substance of the order was, “that the king being certainly informed, that I was a man principled against plotting and fighting, and had been ready at all times to discover plots, rather than to make any, &c., therefore his royal pleasure was, that I should be discharged from my imprisonment,” &c. As soon as this order was obtained, John Whitehead came to Scarbro’ with it, and delivered it to the governor; who, upon receipt thereof, gathered the officers together, and without requiring bonds or sureties for my peaceable living, being satisfied that I was a man of a peaceable life, he discharged me freely, and gave me the following passport:—

After I was released, I would have made the governor a present for the civility and kindness he had of late showed me; but he would not receive anything; saying, “whatever good he could do for me and my friends he would do it, and never do them any hurt.” And afterwards, if at any time the mayor of the town sent to him for soldiers to break up Friends’ meetings, if he sent any down he would privately give them a charge “not to meddle.” He continued loving to his dying day. The officers also and the soldiers were mightily changed, and became very respectful to me, and when they had occasion to speak of me, they would say, “he is as stiff as a tree, and as pure as a bell; for we could never bow him.”

The very next day after my release, the fire broke out in London, and the report of it came quickly down into the country.^[13] Then I saw the Lord God was true and just in his word, which he had showed me before in Lancaster jail, when I saw the angel of the Lord with a glittering sword drawn southward, as before expressed. The people of London were forewarned of this fire; yet few laid it to heart, or believed it; but rather grew more wicked, and higher in pride. For a Friend was moved to come out of Huntingdonshire a little before the fire, to scatter his money, and turn his horse loose on the streets, to untie the knees of his breeches, let his stockings fall down, and to unbutton his doublet, and tell the people, “so should they run up and down, scattering their money and their goods, half undressed, like mad people, as he was a sign to them;” and so they did, when the city was burning.

Thus hath the Lord exercised his prophets and servants by his power, showed them signs of his judgments, and sent them to forewarn the people; but, instead of repenting, they have beaten and cruelly entreated some, and some they have imprisoned, both in the former power’s days and since. But the Lord is just, and happy are they that obey his word. Some have been moved to go naked in their streets, in the other power’s days, and since, as signs of their nakedness; and have declared amongst them “that God would strip them of their hypocritical professions, and make them as bare and naked as they were.” But instead of considering it, they have many times whipped, or otherwise abused them, and sometimes imprisoned them. Others have been moved to go in sackcloth, and to denounce the woes and vengeance of God against the pride and haughtiness of the people; but few regarded it. And in the other power’s days, the wicked, envious, and professing priests, put up several petitions both to Oliver and Richard, called protectors, and to the parliaments, judges, and justices, against us, full of lies, vilifying words and slanders; but we got copies of them, and, through the Lord’s assistance, answered them all, and cleared the Lord’s truth and ourselves of them. But O! the body of darkness that rose against the truth in them that made lies their refuge. But the Lord swept them away; and in and with his power, truth, light, and life, hedged his lambs about, and preserved them as on eagles’ wings. Therefore we all had, and have great encouragement to trust the Lord, who, we saw by his power and Spirit, overturned and brought to naught all the confederacies and counsels that were hatched in darkness against his truth and people; and by the same truth gave his people dominion, that therein they might serve him.

Indeed I could not but take notice, how the hand of the Lord turned against those persecutors, who had been the cause of my imprisonment, or had been abusive or cruel to me in it. The officer that fetched me to Holker-Hall wasted his estate, and soon after fled into Ireland. And most of the justices that were upon the bench at the sessions when I was sent to prison, died in a while after; as old Thomas Preston, Rawlinson, Porter, and Matthew West, of Borwick. And Justice Fleming’s wife died, and left him thirteen or fourteen motherless children, who had imprisoned two Friends to death, and thereby made several children fatherless. Colonel Kirby never prospered after. The chief constable, Richard Dodgson, died soon after, and Mount, the petty constable, and the wife of the other petty constable John Ashburnham, who railed at me in her house, died soon after. William Knipe, the witness they brought against me, died soon after also. Hunter, the jailer of Lancaster, who was very wicked to me while I was his prisoner, was cut off in his young days: and the under-sheriff that carried me from Lancaster prison towards Scarbro’, lived not long after. And Joblin, the jailer of Durham, who was prisoner with me in Scarbro’ castle, and had often incensed the governor and soldiers against me, though he got out of prison, yet the Lord cut him off in his wickedness soon after. When I came into that country again, most of those that dwelt in Lancashire were dead, and others ruined in their estates; so that, though I did not seek revenge upon them, for their actings against me contrary to the law, yet the Lord had executed his judgments upon many of them.