The king having promised Richard Hubberthorn over and again, that his friends should not suffer for their opinion, or religion, they parted in love. But though the king seemed a good-natured prince, yet he was so misled, that in process of time he seemed to have forgot what he so solemnly promised on the word of a king.


Now in this discourse mention being made of Rome, &c. I will say by the bye, that one John Perrot and John Love being come to Leghorn in Italy, and having been examined there by the inquisition, they answered so well that they were dismissed. Being come afterwards to Venice, Perrot was admitted to the doge, or duke, in his palace, spoke with him, and gave him some books: and from thence he went with his fellow-traveller to Rome. Here they bore testimony against the idolatry committed there, in such a public manner, that they were taken into custody. John Love died in the prison of the inquisition; and though it was divulged, that he had fasted to death, yet some nuns have told that he was despatched in the night, for fear he should annoy the church of Rome. However it was, he died in sincerity of heart, and so was more happy than Perrot, who though then perhaps he was in a pretty good frame of mind, yet afterwards turned an eminent apostate, having continued prisoner at Rome a great while, and at length got his liberty. He was a man of great natural parts, but, not continuing in true humility, ran out into exorbitant imaginations, of which more may be said hereafter. About this time Samuel Fisher and John Stubbs were also at Rome, where they spoke with some of the cardinals, and testified against the popish superstition. They also spread some books amongst the friars, some of whom confessed the contents thereof to be truth: but, said they, if we should acknowledge this publicly, we might expect to be burnt for it. Notwithstanding Fisher and Stubbs went free, and returned unmolested.

The case of Mary Fisher, a maiden, and one of the first Quakers, so called, that came into New England, as hath been mentioned before, I cannot pass by in silence. She being come to Smyrna, to go from thence to Adrianople, was stopt by the English consul, and sent back to Venice, from whence she came by another way to Adrianople, at the time that Sultan Mahomet the fourth was encamped with his army near the said town. She went alone to the camp, and got somebody to go to the tent of the grand vizier, to tell him that an English woman was come who had something to declare from the great God to the Sultan. The vizier sent word, that next morning he should procure her an opportunity for that purpose. Then she returned to the town, and repaired next morning to the camp again, where being come, she was brought before the sultan, who had his great men about him, in such a manner as he was used to admit ambassadors. He asked by his interpreters, whereof there were three with him, whether it was true what had been told him, that she had something to say to him from the Lord God? She answered, ‘Yea.’ Then he bade her speak on: and she not being forward, weightily pondering what she might say, and he supposing that she might be fearful to utter her mind before them all, asked her, whether she desired that any might go aside, before she spoke? She answered, ‘No.’ He then bade her speak the word of the Lord to them, and not to fear, for they had good hearts, and could hear it. He also charged her, to speak the word she had to say from the Lord, neither more nor less, for they were willing to hear it, be it what it would. Then she spoke what was upon her mind.

The Turks hearkened to her with much attention and gravity, till she had done; and then the sultan asking her whether she had any thing more to say? She asked him, whether he understood what she said? And he answered, ‘Yes, every word,’ and further said, that what she had spoken was truth. Then he desired her to stay in that country, saying, that they could not but respect such an one, as should take so much pains to come to them so far as from England, with a message from the Lord God. He also proffered her a guard to bring her into Constantinople, whither she intended. But she not accepting this offer, he told her it was dangerous travelling, especially for such an one as she; and wondered that she had passed so safe so far as she had: saying also, it was in respect to her, and kindness that he proffered it, and that he would not for any thing she should come to the least hurt in his dominions. She having no more to say, the Turks asked her, what she thought of their prophet Mahomet? She answered warily that she knew him not; but Christ, the true prophet, the Son of God, who was the light of the world, and enlightened every man coming into the world, him she knew. And concerning Mahomet she said, that they might judge of him to be true or false, according to the words and prophecies he spoke; saying further, ‘If the word that a prophet speaketh, come to pass, then shall ye know that the Lord hath sent that prophet; but if it come not to pass, then shall ye know that the Lord never sent him.’ The Turks confessed this to be true; and Mary having performed her message, departed from the camp to Constantinople, without a guard, whither she came without the least hurt or scoff. And so she returned safe to England.

Concerning Catharine Evans, and Sarah Cheevers, two women, who at this time lay in the prison of the inquisition at Malta, and were not released till after three years confinement, where they suffered most grievous hardships; I intend to speak hereafter, when I come to the time of their deliverance; and then I propose to make a large and very remarkable description concerning it.

In the meanwhile I return to the affairs of England, where the government now was quite altered. Many of the late king’s judges were now hanged and quartered: among those was also colonel Francis Hacker, of whom, about six years before this time, it hath been said that he took George Fox prisoner. But he now himself was in prison, and impeached not only as one of those that kept the king prisoner, but also that he signed the warrant for the king’s execution, and had conducted him to the scaffold. To all which, and more, he said little, but that what he did, was by order of his superiors; and that he had endeavoured to serve his country. But this did not avail him, for he was condemned for high treason, and hanged and quartered in October. A day or two before his death Margaret Fell visited him in prison; and when he was put in mind of what formerly he had done against the innocent, he remembered it, and said, he knew well whom she meant, and had trouble upon him for it. For G. Fox, (who had compared him to Pilate,) bade him, when the day of his misery and trial should come upon him, to remember what he said to him. And as Hacker’s son-in-law, Needham, then did not stick to say, that it was time to have G. Fox cut off, so it came to be the lot of Hacker himself to be cut off at Tyburn, where he was hanged. Such now was the end of many, who were not only guilty of the king’s death, and the putting to death of others who were for king Charles the Second, but had also transgressed against God by persecuting godly people. They had been often warned, and several times told that God would hear the cries of the widows and fatherless, that had been cruelly oppressed by them; and as they had made spoil of the goods of those whom in scorn they called Quakers, so now fear and quaking was brought upon them, and their estates became a spoil to others. How plainly E. Burrough had foretold this, hath been said before; and not to mention others, I will only say, that one Robert Huntington came once into the steeple-house at Brough, near Carlisle, with a white sheet about him, and a halter about his neck, to show the Presbyterians and Independents there, that the surplice was to be introduced again, and that some of them should not escape the halter. Now how mad soever this was said to be, yet time showed it a presage of the impending disaster of the cruel persecutors: for when king Charles had ascended the throne, his most fierce enemies were despatched out of the way.

The parliament sitting at this time, some of those called Quakers were admitted to appear in the House of Lords, where they gave reasons why they should not frequent the public worship, nor swear, nor pay tithes; and they were heard with moderation. The king also about this time showed himself moderate; for being solicited by some, and more especially by Margaret Fell, he set at liberty about seven hundred of the people called Quakers, who had been imprisoned under the government of Oliver and Richard Cromwell. This passed the easier, because those that were now at the helm, had also suffered under the former government: there seemed likewise some inclination to give liberty of conscience; but there being among those that were now in authority, some also of a malicious temper, they always found means to hinder this good work; and it just now fell out so that something started up, which put a stop to the giving such a liberty as aforesaid; though it was advanced so far, that an order was drawn up for permitting the Quakers the free exercise of their worship; only the signing and seal to it was wanting, when all on a sudden the Fifth Monarchy-men made an insurrection. There was at that time a great number of this turbulent people in England; who, perceiving that their exorbitant opinion was inconsistent with kingly government, which now had taken place, thought it not meet for their cause to sit still while the government, which was yet but new, should be fully settled and established. Perhaps they had also some intent to free some of the late king’s judges, who were imprisoned; for among these was also sir Henry Vane, who having been one of the chief of the commonwealth party, was likewise said to be one of the heads of the Fifth Monarchy-men. It was in the night when these people made a rising; which caused such a stir, that the king’s soldiers sounded an alarm by the beating of drums.

The train-bands appeared in arms, and all was in an uproar, and both the mob and soldiers committed great insolences for several days; so that the Quakers, though altogether innocent, became the object of the fury of their enemies, and many were hauled to prison out of their peaceable meetings.