Brave Bessie Westland

by Emma Leslie

There was no further need of words about the matter, and none were spoken. The hatter returned to his workshop, and the busy housewife took out her spinning-wheel; for if these children came to her poorly provided with clothes, she would need to draw upon her store in the linen-press, and so there would be the more need for its replenishment.

But while Dame Drayton's spinning-wheel hummed to the pleasant measure of her thoughts and plans for the children she was ready to welcome to her home, her husband was revolving the same matter in his mind, but in a fashion his wife had never glanced at. He was wondering what the committee of suffering would think of his wife's proposal, in view of the fact that she was not held to be a good Quakeress by the leaders of their district meeting. The cause of this was that she refused to give up entirely her attendance at "a steeple-house," as the Quakers called a church. She was born in Maiden Lane, and had attended All Hallow's Church in Bread Street since she was a child, and there she still took her own children sometimes, since they had been roughly driven out of White Swan Court, where their own meeting-house stood.

Now, the leaders among this little company of Quakers maintained that, for a woman to take her children to "a steeple-house," in preference to a Friends' meeting-house, because a party of rough soldiers had driven back the worshippers in the name of the king two or three times lately, was a weak compliance to the enemy, that must be strongly condemned. Dame Drayton had pleaded that her elder child was a weak and nervous girl, who had been unable to sleep without terrifying dreams, after the encounter with the soldiers, especially as they had the pain of seeing one of their friends carried off to prison by them. These sturdy witnesses for the truth, as it was held and taught by George Fox, thought the best way to overcome such nervous terror on the part of a child, was to accustom her to the sight of thus witnessing to the truth, and she was commanded to attend her district meeting-house, and bring her children with her, each First Day that it was open for worship.

Now Dame Drayton was as devout a Quakeress as any among them, but she had not so learned the truth either from the lips of George Fox or from the Bible, which she diligently studied.

"I am a child of God, and therefore I may not be in bondage to any man," she pleaded. "God can speak to me by the weak voice of my little child as well as by the committee of discipline," she said, when her husband reluctantly brought her the message passed at their monthly meeting, commanding her attendance at worship whenever the leaders should deem it safe to hold such a meeting, for this was not always possible at the present time of persecution.

That one so gentle, and seemingly so timid and compliant, should dare to disobey this command, was a great surprise to many; but Dame Drayton's love for her weakly child was stronger than her fear of those in authority, and so she held on her way, going herself to the meeting-house occasionally, but always taking her children to All Hallow's Church, where, as she said, they could worship God with other servants who were striving to do His will, though they were not Quakers.

This breach of discipline on the part of one of their number was a sore fret to many among the little company, for in all else Dame Drayton had proved a most exemplary member, one who was ever ready to help and succour the distressed, either among themselves or the poor who were often dependent upon them.

Now as the hatter mused over his work, he feared that when he made his appeal to be allowed to have Westland's three children, his wife's breach of discipline would be remembered against her, and they would view this demand on her part as another impeachment of their wisdom in selecting homes for them; and so it was by no means an easy or pleasant task that he had undertaken, for he felt sure his request would be refused as soon as it was made. However, as the children were to be fetched that evening, there was little time for him to ponder over the matter, and so soon as his work for the day was finished, and the apprentices dismissed, he put on his hat and cloak, and hurried off to the house of one of the committee, to consult him upon the matter, for he had agreed to meet the messenger at Triggs' Stairs, who was to bring the children by water from Southwark that evening.

It was by no means a simple business in the times of which we write, for to give shelter and help to one who was known to be a Quaker would bring suspicion and espionage; and, therefore, to take in the children of such a well-known Quaker as Westland might entail a good deal of inconvenience upon those who were brave enough to do it, even if they escaped positive persecution from the authorities.

It was doubtless this that made it difficult to find homes for those who had been practically orphaned, for well-to-do citizens, who could afford to add to their responsibilities in this way, had much to forego in the way of fines and business losses, if their connection with the despised people were thus publicly asserted.