I could relate many more severities of the New England persecutors; but I long to come to an end, and therefore shall make a large step, and outrun some space of time.
1664.
In the year 1664, it happened that Mary Tomkins and Alice Ambrose came again to Boston, having been in Virginia, where for their religion they had not only been pilloried, but whipped also each of them with thirty-two stripes, with a whip of nine cords, and every cord with three knots; and they were handled so severely, that the very first lash drew blood, and made it run down from their breasts. Being afterwards arrived at Boston, Mary grew so sick, that she was thought to be near death; which made Edward Wharton with Wenlock Christison come from Salem to visit her. But after they had been there a little time, two constables came in, and notwithstanding Mary’s weak condition, forced them all to the governor’s house. Now though Mary seemed to be a little on the mending hand, yet she was so ill, that she fell down as it were dead in the way. But one of the constables staid with her till she came to herself again, and then brought her before the governor, where were also deputy Bellingham and Thomas Daufort, one of the magistrates; who ordered all four of them to be whipped; but because Mary was so weak, and lest probably she might die under their hands, they gave order that she and Alice should not be whipped at Boston, but at the towns beyond. And this was to have been executed, but that colonel Temple coming in, interceded and prevailed for three of them. And now Edward became the mark of their fury, on whom they vented their passion, though they had nothing to charge him with, but that he was come from Salem to Boston to visit his sick friend; and for this pretended crime the following warrant was framed:
‘To the constables of Boston, Charlestown, Malden, and Lynn.
‘You are required to take into your custody respectively, Edward Wharton, convicted of being a vagabond, from his own dwelling-place; and the constable of Boston is to whip him severely with thirty stripes on his naked body. And from constable to constable you are required to convey him until he come to Salem, the place where he saith he dwelleth: and in so doing this shall be your warrant.
JOHN ENDICOT.’
Dated at Boston, the 20th of June, 1664.
Pursuant to this warrant, Edward, (who therein was called a vagabond, for no other reason but that he was gone from his dwelling-place,) was led away to the market place, and there being stripped, his arms were bound to the wheel of a great gun. Then the constable John Loel, bade the hangman to do his work severely; which he did so cruelly that it was testified pease might lie in the holes that the knots of the whip had made in the flesh of his arms and back. And his body was swelled and very black from the waist upwards. Such was the doings of those, who to enjoy the free exercise of their worship, had left Old England; and thus they treated a man that was of good repute, and had lived in that country above twenty years; and was once by the governor himself acknowledged to be his friend, when he supplied him with necessaries in his want, saying then, that if ever it lay in his power he would requite him; which now he did, but in what an inhuman and barbarous manner! That this governor Endicot once had been a man of but a mean condition, appears from a letter written to him shortly after the death of Mary Dyar, by one John Smith, because he had not only caused his wife to be whipped severely, but had also kept her prisoner a whole winter, separate from her children, and had been assisting in the making of an order that no man or woman should bring any thing to the imprisoned Quakers, or carry any thing from them, upon the penalty of five pounds for the first time, and ten pounds for the second. In this letter John Smith said:
‘O my spirit is grieved for thee, because that the love I did once see in thee is departed from thee, and there remaineth in thee a spirit of cruelty, of hard-heartedness to thy poor neighbours, which thou hast formerly been much beholden to, and helped by, in time of want, when thou hadst no bread to eat. O consider of these times, and forget them not, and of the love thou didst find among poor people in thy necessity, and how evil thou hast dealt with, and requited some of them now; and how thou dost walk and act contrary to what thou didst formerly profess: yea, I have heard thee say that all the armies on earth cannot subdue one lust in man or woman. And now thou pronouncest sentence of death upon some, because they cannot submit to your wills, nor worship as ye do.’
But I return to Edward Wharton, who after his whipping was not led the direct way to Salem, but by Charlestown, and so about the country, as if they had a mind to make a show of him: yet at Charlestown the constable was so compassionate, that he entertained him in his house, and anointed his stripes; and the next day he was conveyed to his home. Since that time the said Wharton was whipped again severely; but I pass by particulars to avoid prolixity. Yet I cannot forbear to say, that before he was whipped at Boston, as hath been said, it was told him that if he would promise the governor to come no more to the Quakers’ meeting in Boston, then it was likely the governor would let him have his liberty: to which Edward returned, ‘Not for all the world. And friends, I have a back to lend to the smiter, and I have felt your cruel whippings before now, and the Lord hath made me able to bear them; and as I abide in his fear, I need not fear what you shall be suffered to do unto me.’