[CHAPTER XIV.]
Labors, Dangers and Sufferings.
1661-1662.
Now did I see the end of the travail which I had in my sore exercise at Reading;[126] for the everlasting power of the Lord was over all, and His blessed Truth, life, and light shined over the nation. Great and glorious meetings we had, and very quiet; and many flocked unto the Truth. Richard Hubberthorn had been with the King, who said that none should molest us so long as we lived peaceably, and promised this upon the word of a king; telling Richard that we might make use of his promise.[127]
Some Friends were also admitted in the House of Lords, to declare their reasons why they could not pay tithes, swear, go to the steeple-house worship, or join with others in worship; and the Lords heard them moderately. There being about seven hundred Friends in prison, who had been committed under Oliver's and Richard's government, upon contempts (so called) when the King came in, he set them all at liberty.
There seemed at that time an inclination and intention in the government to grant Friends liberty, because those in authority were sensible that we had suffered as well as they under the former powers. But still, when anything was going forward in order thereto, some dirty spirits or other,[128] that would seem to be for us, threw something in the way to stop it. It was said there was an instrument drawn up for confirming our liberty, and that it only wanted signing; when suddenly that wicked attempt of the Fifth-monarchy people broke out, and put the city and nation in an uproar. This was on a First-day night, and very glorious meetings we had had that day, wherein the Lord's Truth shone over all, and His power was exalted above all; but about midnight, or soon after, the drums beat, and the cry was, "Arm, Arm!"
I got up out of bed, and in the morning took boat, and, landing at Whitehall-stairs, walked through Whitehall. The people there looked strangely at me, but I passed through them, and went to Pall-Mall, where divers Friends came to me, though it had now become dangerous to pass through the streets; for by this time the city and suburbs were up in arms. Exceedingly rude the people and soldiers were. Henry Fell, going to a Friend's house, was knocked, down by the soldiers, and he would have been killed had not the Duke of York come by.
Great mischief was done in the city this week; and when the next First-day came, as Friends went to their meetings, many were taken prisoners. I stayed at Pall-Mall, intending to be at the meeting there; but on Seventh-day night a company of troopers came and knocked at the door. The servant let them in. They rushed into the house, and laid hold of me; and, there being amongst them one that had served under the Parliament, he put his hand to my pocket and asked whether I had any pistol. I told him, "You know I do not carry pistols; why, therefore, ask such a question of me, whom you know to be a peaceable man?"
Others of the soldiers ran into the chambers, and there found in bed Esquire Marsh, who, though he was one of the King's bedchamber, out of his love to me came and lodged where I did. When they came down again they said, "Why should we take this man away with us. We will let him alone."
"Oh," said the Parliament soldier, "he is one of the heads, and a chief ringleader."