At New Haven, a stranger, named Humphrey Norton, being put ashore, not of his own seeking, was put in prison and chained to a post, and kept night and day for the space of twenty days, with great weights of iron, without fire or candle, in the winter season, and not any suffered to come to visit him; and after this brought before their court, and there was their priest, John Davenport, to whom said Norton endeavored to make reply, but was prevented by having a key tied athwart his mouth, till the priest had done; then, said Norton was had again to prison, and there chained ten days, and then sentenced to be severely whipped, and to be burned in the hand with the letter H, for heresy, who, my author says, was convicted of none; and to be sent out of the Colony, and not to return upon pain of the utmost penalty they could inflict by law. And the drum was beat, and the people gathered, and he was fetched and stripped to the waist, and whipped thirty-six cruel stripes and burned in the hand very deep with a red-hot iron, as aforesaid, and then had to prison again and tendered his liberty upon paying his fine and fees.—See George Bishop: “New England Judged,” page 203, 4.
These and other like things were done in Connecticut.
Now let us hear what was done in Boston Government, as it is to be seen in the title-page of said Bishop’s history, touching the sufferings of the people called Quakers: “A brief relation,” saith he, “of the suffering of the people called Quakers in those parts of America, from the beginning of the fifth month, 1656, the time of their first arrival at Boston from England, to the latter end of the tenth month, 1660, wherein the cruel whippings and scourgings, bonds and imprisonments, beatings and chainings, starvings and huntings, fines and confiscation of estates, burning in the hand and cutting off ears, orders of sale for bond-men and bond-women, banishment upon pain of death, and putting to death of those people are shortly touched, with a relation of the manner, and some of the most material proceedings, and a judgment thereupon.” They also burned their books by the common executioners (see Daniel Neal’s “History of New England,” Vol. I., page 292). They also impoverished them by compelling them to take the oath of fidelity, which they scrupled for conscience’ sake, and for their refusing of which they were fined £5 each or depart the Colony; but they, not departing, and under the same scruple, came under the penalty of another £5; and so from time to time, and many other fines were imposed on them, as for meeting by themselves. (See said History, page 320.)
And in said book is contained a brief relation of the barbarous cruelties, persecutions and massacres upon the Protestants in foreign parts by the Papists, etc. And now I return to Boston and Connecticut, with reference to what was said touching the doings of our forefathers; they not being repented, nor called in question, but a persisting in acts of force upon conscience in some measure to this day. But it is the same dragon, and same persecuting spirit that required the worshipping of idols, and persecuted the primitive church, that now professes himself to be a Christian, and furnishes himself with college-learned ministers, nourished up in pride through idleness and voluptuous living; and these are his ministers; and they are the same set of men that Christ thanked God that he had hid the mysteries of the kingdom of God from, Matt. xi, 25. And he, the dragon, assures the rulers of the commonwealth that God hath set them to do justice among men, and to take under their care the government of the church also.
In 1754, I went to the General Court at Hartford, and also to the General Court at Boston, considering their Confessions were both one, and that both Governments lie under the same reproof,—and I have published three treatises already, touching these things; but there has been no answer made to any, and this is the fourth; after so much proof, I think it may truly be said of them, as in Rev. ii, 2, “And thou hast tried them which say they are apostles, and are not, and hast found them liars.”
In a word, to rule the church by the power of the magistrate is to destroy the peace of both church, families and commonwealths. But, on the contrary, Christ is said to be the Prince of Peace. Isaiah ix, 6. And all that walk in His spirit follow His example, to live peaceably towards all men, as also towards the Commonwealth, as he did, for peace’ sake, rather than to offend.
Perhaps we cannot give a better idea of the extent and versatility of Mr. Bolle’s efforts in this direction, which extended over a long period, than by transcribing some portion of what is said of him by his biographer (in “Bolles Genealogy”):—
John Bolles, third and only surviving son of Thomas and Zipporah Bolles, was born in New London, Conn., August 7, 1767. At the age of thirty, he became dissatisfied with the tenets of the Presbyterian church, in which he had been educated. That church was the only one recognized by law. Its members composed the standing order, and, from the foundation of the colony until the adoption of a state constitution and the principle of religious toleration, in 1818, every person in Connecticut, whatever his creed, was compelled by law to belong to or pay taxes for the support of the standing order. It was as complete an “Establishment” as is the “Established Church of England.” Mr. Bolles became a Seventh Day Baptist,[[16]] and was immersed by John Rogers, the elder. Well educated, familiar with the Bible, independent in fortune, earnest in his convictions and of a proselyting spirit, bold and fond of discussion, Mr. Bolles engaged very actively in polemical controversy, and wrote and published many books and pamphlets; some of which still extant prove him to have been, as Miss Caulkins, the historian of New London, describes him, “fluent with the pen and adroit in argument.” From one of his books in my possession, it appears that his escape when his mother and her other children were murdered by Stoddard, and his deliverance from other imminent perils, “when,” to use his own words, “there was but a hair’s breadth between me and death,” made a deep impression on his mind and caused him to feel that God had spared him for some special work. This belief is expressed in some homely verses, Bunyan-like in sound, closing with the following couplet:
“Yet was my life preserved, by God Almighty’s hand,
Who since has called me forth for His great truth to stand!”