At that time George Fox was at London, and being lodged in Pall-mall, at night a company of troopers came, and knocked at the door where he was; which being opened, they rushed into the house, and laid hold on him. One of these that had formerly served under the parliament, clapped his hand to G. Fox’s pocket, and asked, whether he had any pistol? G. Fox told him, he knew he did not use to carry pistols, why then did he ask such a question of him, whom he knew to be a peaceable man? Others of these fellows ran up into the chambers, and there found esquire Marsh, before mentioned, in bed, who though he was one of the king’s bed-chamber, yet out of love to G. Fox, came and lodged where he did. When the troopers 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.’ Upon this the soldiers were taking him away. But esquire Marsh hearing of it, sent for him that commanded the party, and desired him to let G. Fox alone, since he would see him forthcoming in the morning, and then they might take him. Early in the morning there came a company of foot to the house; and one of them drawing his sword, held it over G. Fox’s head, which made him ask, wherefore he drew his sword at a naked man? At which his fellows being ashamed, bid him put up his sword: and sometime after they brought him to Whitehall, before the troopers came for him. As he was going out, he saw several of his friends going to the meeting, it being then the First day of the week; and he intended to have gone thither himself, if he had not been stopped: but now it being out of his power to keep them company, he commended their boldness, and encouraged them to persevere therein. When he was come to Whitehall, seeing the soldiers and people were exceeding rude, he began to exhort them to godliness. But some great persons coming by, who were envious to him, said, ‘What, do you let him preach? Put him into such a place, where he may not stir.’ So he was put into that place, and the soldiers watched over him; but G. Fox told them, though they could confine his body, and shut that up, yet the word of life they could not stop. Some then asked him, what he was? He told them he was a preacher of righteousness. After he had been kept there two or three hours, esquire Marsh spoke to the lord Gerard, who came, and bid them set G. Fox at liberty. When he was discharged, the marshal demanded fees. G. Fox told him he could not give him any: and he asked him, how he could demand fees of him who was innocent? Nevertheless he told him, that in his own freedom, he would give them two-pence, to make him and the soldiers drink. But they shouted at that, which made him say, if they would not accept it, they might choose; for he should not give them fees. Then he went through the guards, and came to an inn, where several of his friends at that time were prisoners under a guard, and about night he went to the house of one of his friends.
This insurrection of the Fifth-Monarchy-men, caused great disturbance in the nation; and though the Quakers did not at all meddle with those boisterous people, yet they fell under great sufferings because of them; and both men and women were dragged out of their houses to prison, and some sick men off their beds by the legs; among which was one Thomas Pachyn, who being in a fever, was dragged by the soldiers out of his bed to prison, where he died.
This persecution going on throughout the nation, Margaret Fell went to the king, and gave him an account how her friends, that were in nowise concerned in the said insurrection and riots, were treated; for several thousands of them were cast into prison. The king and council wondered how they could have such intelligence, since strict charge was given for the intercepting of all letters, so that none could pass unsearched. But notwithstanding this, so much was heard of the numbers of the imprisoned, that Margaret Fell went a second time to the king and council, and acquainted them of the grievous sufferings of her friends. G. Fox then wrote a letter of consolation to his suffering friends; and also published in print a declaration against all seditions, plotters, and fighters, wherein he manifested, that they were an harmless people, that denied wars and fightings, and could not make use of the outward sword, or other carnal weapons. This declaration was presented to the king and his council, and was of such effect, that the king gave forth a proclamation, that no soldiers should go to search any house, but with a constable. When afterwards some of the Fifth-Monarchy-men were put to death because of their insurrection, they did the Quakers, so called, that right, that they cleared them openly from having an hand in, or knowledge of their plot. This and other evidences caused the king, being continually importuned thereunto, to issue forth a declaration, that the Quakers should be set at liberty without paying fees.
Many of the Presbyterian preachers now temporized, and for keeping their benefices, joined with the Episcopalians, and did not stick to put on the surplice. But this gave occasion to many of their hearers to leave them, and join with the Quakers, so called, who could not comply with the times. Others, who were a little more steadfast, made use of their money to get liberty, though under the government of Cromwell they would permit no liberty of conscience to others; insomuch that one Hewes, an eminent priest at Plymouth in Oliver’s days, when some liberty was granted, prayed that God would put it into the hearts of the chief magistrates of the nation, to remove this cursed toleration. But this Hewes, after the king was come in, being asked by one, whether he would account toleration accursed now, answered only by shaking his head.
Now though many of the Quakers, as hath been said, were released from prison, yet they suffered exceedingly in their religious assemblies. Once a company of Irishmen came to Pall-mall, when G. Fox was there; but the meeting was already broke up; and he being gone up into a chamber, heard one of those rude persons, who was a colonel, say, he would kill all the Quakers. Whereupon G. Fox came down, and told him, ‘The law said, an eye for an eye, and a tooth for a tooth; but thou threatenest to kill all the Quakers, though they have done thee no hurt:’ but said he further, ‘Here is gospel for thee: here’s my hair, here’s my cheek, and here’s my shoulder,’ turning it to him. This so surprised the colonel, that he and his companions stood amazed, and said, ‘If this be your principle as you say, we never saw the like in our lives.’ To which G. Fox said, ‘What I am in words I am the same in life.’ Then the colonel carried himself lovingly; though a certain ambassador who stood without and then came in, said, that this Irish colonel was such a desperate man, that he durst not come in with him, for fear he should have done great mischief.
Notwithstanding such like rude encounters, yet by the change of the government, some stop was put to the fierce current of persecution; for the king being but newly settled on the throne, showed yet an inclination to lenity. But this quiet did not last long, and was but a time of respiration: for the churchmen, instigated, as it seems very probable, by the favourers of popery, continued envious, and staid but for an opportunity to show their malice. An instance of which hath been seen already on the insurrection of the Fifth-Monarchy-men, and in the sequel will be seen much clearer: since, though they did not seem to persecute for conscience-sake, yet under a colour of justice, laws were made use of, that had formerly been enacted for the suppression of popery, and to secure the kingdom against Jesuits, and other traiterous Papists; these being the laws, of which G. Fox in his letter to the king had said, that they held up persecution about religion.
That it may be known what laws those were, and that it may also appear what an unreasonable use hath been made thereof, I shall here set them down, or abstracts of them; that so it may be more plainly seen, what awkward means have been made use of, and how sinistrously the laws were executed. Sometimes I may interweave among these abstracts, some observations, or an account of a case, which, though not placed in due time, may yet be serviceable to give a true notion of things. I now repair to those laws.
In the 27th year of king Henry the eighth, a law was made for payment of tithes: for that king having either given or sold many chapels and abbeys to laymen, those laymen had no right, as priests claimed to have, to summon to ecclesiastical courts those that failed in paying of tithes. But for this a law was provided, by virtue of which, a judge of an ecclesiastical court might be helpful to laymen, and in that law it was said,
‘If the judge of an ecclesiastical court make complaint to two justices of peace, (quorum unus,) of any contumacy, or misdemeanor committed by a defendant in any suit there depending for tithes, the said justices shall commit such defendant to prison, there to remain till he shall find sufficient surety to be bound before them by recognizance, or otherwise to give due obedience to the process, proceedings, decrees, and sentences of the said court.’