When the lord mayor came home, and G. Fox was brought before him, he said, ‘Mr. Fox, you are an eminent man among those of your own profession, pray will you be instrumental to persuade them from meeting in such great numbers: for,’ said he, ‘seeing Christ hath promised, where two or three are met in his name, he will be in the midst of them; and the king and parliament are graciously pleased to allow of four to meet together to worship God, why will not you be content to partake both of Christ’s promise to two or three, and the king’s indulgence to four?’ To which G. Fox answered, that Christ’s promise was not to discourage many from meeting together in his name; but to encourage the few, that the fewest might not forbear to meet, because of their fewness. But if Christ hath promised to manifest his presence in the midst of so small an assembly, where but two or three were gathered in his name; how much more would his presence abound where two or three hundred are gathered in his name. G. F. wished him to consider, whether this act would not have taken hold of Christ, with his twelve apostles and seventy disciples, (if it had been in their time,) who used to meet often together; and that with great numbers? However, he told him, this act did not concern us; for it was made against seditious meetings, of such as met under pretence and colour of religion, to contrive insurrections, as, the act says, late experience had shown; but we had been sufficiently tried and proved, and always found peaceable: and therefore he should do well to put a difference between the innocent and the guilty. He said the act was made against meetings, and a worship not according to the liturgy. G. F. told him, [according to,] was not the very same thing; and asked him, whether the liturgy was according to the Scriptures? And whether we might not read Scriptures, and speak Scriptures? he said Yes. And told him, that this act took hold only of such as meet to plot and contrive insurrections, as late experience had shown; but they had never experienced that by us. Because thieves are sometimes on the road, must not honest men travel therefore? And because plotters and contrivers have met to do mischief, must not an honest, peaceable people, meet to do good? If we had been a people that did meet to plot and contrive insurrections, &c. we might have drawn ourselves into fours; for four might do more mischief in plotting, than if there were four hundred; because four might speak out their minds more freely one to another, than four hundred could: therefore we being innocent, and not the people this act concerns, we keep our meetings as we used to do; and said, he believed that he knew in his conscience we were innocent.
After this and more discourse, the lord mayor, whose name was Samuel Starling, let them go, seeing the informer was gone before, and now nobody accused them. The treatment this informer met with, made others scrupulous, yet several of their meetings in London were disturbed, and some of their preachers cast into prison; but though the Baptists and other dissenters ceased their public meetings, yet the Quakers continued to keep theirs, as they used to do, whereby it happened that some of their meeting-houses were pulled down, and amongst others that at Ratcliffe, which was a substantial building, almost new.
After some time, the heat of persecution in the city began to abate, but in other places it raged more fiercely; this engaged G. Fox to leave the city, and travel about the country in divers places to visit his friends.
This year G. Fox, had a very great fit of sickness, to such a degree, that he became both blind and deaf, insomuch that his recovery was despaired of by some; but after a time he grew better.
In the meanwhile persecution in many places grew very dismal; for many of the friends were beaten with swords, and pikes, and muskets, to that degree, that their blood ran along the ground, and the informers were so very eager to hunt after their prey, that they informed of meetings when there was none. Amongst others, this following was an instance. A Droitwitch, John Cartwright came to a friend’s house there, who sitting down to supper, he prayed before they ate, which being heard by an informer, the room being next to the street, he thereupon went immediately and informed that there was a meeting in the house, and so got a warrant to distrain the goods; and when he came riding with them in the evening, he fell from his horse, and brake his neck, thereby getting his death instead of his prey, which he hunted after.
Now, although persecution was not so hot in London, as in other places in the country, yet sometimes even there it was very severe, as may be seen by the instance of William Penn, and William Mead, who were taken from a meeting and imprisoned, and tried for the same in the month of September.
The indictment contained, ‘That William Penn, and William Mead, with divers other persons, to the number of three hundred, at Gracechurch-street, in London, on the 15th of August, with force and arms, had tumultuously assembled together, and that William Penn, by agreement between him and William Mead, had preached there in the public street, whereby was caused a great concourse and tumult of the people,’ &c. That there was a public meeting in the street, proceeded from necessity; because a guard was placed in the passage to hinder friends from going into their meeting-house; but it was a great untruth that they met with force and arms, which were never used by the Quakers. This indictment being read before the court, the prisoners were demanded, according to custom, whether they were guilty, or not guilty? Whereupon W. Penn said, ‘It is impossible that we should be able to remember the indictment verbatim, and therefore we desire a copy of it, as is customary on the like occasions.’ The recorder, John Howel said hereupon, ‘You must first plead to the indictment before you can have a copy of it.’ Then W. Penn said, that he first desired that no advantage might be taken against him, nor he deprived of any benefit, which he might otherwise receive, and that the court would promise him a fair hearing, and liberty of making his defence. Upon which the court said, that no advantage should be taken against him, and that he should have liberty, and should be heard. W. Penn then said, he pleaded not guilty in manner and form. Then W. Mead was demanded, whether he was guilty, or not guilty, and he answered the same as W. Penn. The court then proceeded with the business of trying thieves and murderers, making the prisoners stay waiting five hours, and then returned them to prison; and after two days brought them again before the court. And the officers of the court having taken off the prisoners’ hats, the lord mayor, Samuel Starling, showed himself displeased with it, and ordered the officers to put on their hats again, which being done, the recorder John Howel, who upon all occasions showed his fierceness, accused him, that they showed no respect to the court, and condemned them for it, in a fine of forty marks each, because they had not taken off their hats. Thereupon W. Penn said, that he desired it might be observed, that they came into court with their hats off, (that is, taken off,) and if they had been put on since, it is by order from the bench, and therefore not the prisoners, but the bench should be fined. The jury then being sworn, and the indictment read again, the witnesses were called, who declared that they saw W. Penn speaking to the people, who were assembled in a great number in Gracechurch-street, but they could not hear what he said.
The recorder then asked William Mead, whether he was there? Who answered, that ‘It is a maxim in your own law, nemo tenetur accusare seipsum, which if it be not true Latin, I am sure it is good English. That no man is bound to accuse himself; why then dost thou offer to ensnare me with such a question?’ Hereupon the recorder showed himself so displeased, that he said, ‘Sir, hold your tongue, I did not go about to ensnare you.’ Then William Penn said, ‘we confess ourselves to be so far from recanting, or declining to vindicate the assembling of ourselves, to preach, pray, or worship the Eternal, Holy, Just God, that we declare to all the world, that we do believe it to be our indispensable duty, to meet incessantly, upon so good an account; nor shall all the powers upon earth be able to divert us from reverencing and adoring our God who made us.’ The sheriff, Richard Brown, said. ‘You are not here for worshipping of God, but for breaking the law. You do yourselves a great deal of wrong in going on in that discourse.’ Hereupon W. Penn answered, ‘I affirm I have broken no law, nor am I guilty of the indictment that is laid to my charge: and to the end, the bench, the jury, and myself, with these that hear us, may have a more direct understanding of this procedure, I desire you would let me know by what law it is you prosecute me, and upon what law you ground my indictment?’ The recorder answered, ‘Upon the common law.’ ‘Where is,’ asked W. Penn, ‘that common law?’ ‘You must not think,’ said the recorder, ‘that I am able to run up so many years, and over so many adjudged cases, which we call common law, to answer your curiosity.’ ‘This answer,’ replied W. Penn, ‘I am sure is very short of my question, for if it be common, it should not be so hard to produce.’ The recorder replied, ‘Sir, will you plead to your indictment?’ ‘Shall I,’ answered W. Penn, ‘plead to an indictment that hath no foundation in law? If it contain that law ye say I have broken, why should you decline to produce that law, since it will be impossible for the jury to determine, or agree to bring in the verdict, who have not the law produced, by which they should measure the truth of this indictment, and the guilt or contrary of my fact.’ The recorder being angry, said, ‘You are a saucy fellow, speak to the indictment.’ W. Penn replied, ‘I say, it is my place to speak to matter of law; I am arraigned a prisoner, my liberty, which is next to life itself, is now concerned,’ &c.
At this time several upon the bench urged hard upon the prisoner to hear him down. W. Penn said, ‘You are many mouths and ears against me, and if I must not be allowed to make the best of my cause, it is hard; I say again, unless you show me and the people the law you ground your indictment upon, I shall take it for granted your proceedings are merely arbitrary.’ The recorder then replying, said, ‘The question is, whether you are guilty of this indictment.’ ‘The question,’ said W. Penn, ‘is not whether I am guilty of this indictment, but whether this indictment be legal: it is too general and imperfect an answer, to say it is the common law, unless we know both where, and what it is: for where there is no law, there is no transgression; and that law which is not in being, is so far from being common, that it is no law at all.’ The recorder snapped him hereupon, with, ‘You are an impertinent fellow, will you teach the court what law is? It is lex non scripta, that which many have studied thirty or forty years to know, and would you have me tell you in a moment.’ ‘Certainly,’ replied W. Penn, ‘if the common law be so hard to be understood, it is far from being very common; but if the lord Coke in his institutes, be of any consideration, he tells us, that common law is common right; and that common right is the great charter privileges confirmed, 9 Hen. 3. 29. 25 Edw. 1. 1. 2 Edw. 3. 8. Coke’s Institutes, 2. p. 56.’ The recorder taking no pleasure in that speech, said, ‘Sir, you are a troublesome fellow, and it is not for the honour of the court to suffer you to go on.’ ‘I have,’ replied W. Penn, ‘asked but one question, and you have not answered me; though the rights and privileges of every Englishman be concerned in it.’ ‘Well,’ said the recorder, ‘if I should suffer you to ask questions till to-morrow morning, you would be never the wiser.’ ‘That is,’ said W. Penn, ‘according as the answers are.’ ‘But,’ says the recorder, ‘we must not stand to hear you talk all night.’ Whereupon W. Penn replied, ‘I desire no affront to the court, but to be heard in my just plea; and I must plainly tell you, that if you deny me the oyer of that law, which you suggest I have broken, you do at once deny me an acknowledged right, and evidence to the whole world your resolution to sacrifice the privileges of Englishmen, to your sinister and arbitrary designs.’ This so enraged the recorder, that he called out to the officers, ‘Take him away.’ And to the lord mayor he said, ‘My lord, if you take not some course with this pestilent fellow, to stop his mouth, we shall not be able to do any thing to-night.’ Then the lord mayor cried, ‘Take him away; take him away; turn him into the bail-dock.’
W. Penn seeing how force and violence prevailed, said, ‘These are but so many vain exclamations; is this justice or true judgment? Must I therefore be taken away because I plead for the fundamental laws of England?’ Then addressing himself to the jury, he said, ‘However, this I leave upon your consciences who are of the jury, and my sole judges, that if these ancient fundamental laws which relate to liberty and property, and are not limited to particular persuasions in matters of religion, must not be indispensably maintained and observed, who can say he hath right to the coat upon his back? Certainly our liberties are openly to be invaded, our wives to be ravished, our children enslaved, our families ruined, and our estates led away in triumph, by every sturdy beggar and malicious informer, as their trophies, by our pretended forfeits for conscience-sake. The Lord of heaven and earth will be judge between us in this matter.’ The hearing of this emphatical speech was so troublesome to the recorder, that he cried, ‘Be silent there.’ At which W. Penn returned, ‘I am not to be silent in a cause wherein I am so much concerned, and not only myself, but many ten thousand families besides.’