THE SEVENTH BOOK. 1662-1663. (continued 3)

Now since two Turks lay in the cabin with the master, it was agreed that he should continue to lie there, lest they should mistrust any thing. In the meanwhile it began to be bad weather, so that they lost the company of the Turkish man of war, which was the thing the mate much desired; and the Turks seeing the diligence of the English sailors, grew careless concerning them, which was what the mate aimed at. The second night after, the captain of the Turks, and one of his company, being gone to sleep in the cabin with the master, the mate persuaded one to lie in his cabin, and about an hour after another in another cabin; and at last it raining very much, he persuaded them all to lie down and sleep: and when they were all asleep, he coming to them, fairly got their arms into his possession. This being done, he told his men, ‘Now we have the Turks at our command, no man shall hurt any of them; for if ye do, I will be against you: but this we will do, now they are under deck, we will keep them so, and go for Majorca.’ And having ordered some to keep the doors, they steered their course to Majorca, and they had such a strong gale, that in the morning they were near it. Then he ordered his men, if any offered to come out, not to let above one or two at a time; and when one came out, expecting to have seen his own country, he was not a little astonished instead thereof to see Majorca. Then the mate said to his men, ‘Be careful of the door, for when he goes in we shall see what they will do. But have a care not to spill blood.’ The Turk being gone down, and telling his comrades what he had seen, and how they were going to Majorca, they, instead of rising, all fell a crying, for their courage was quite sunk; and they begged that they might not be sold. This the mate promised, and said, they should not. And when he had appeased them, he went into the cabin to the master, who knew nothing of what was done, and gave him an account of the sudden change, and how they had overcome the Turks. Which when he understood, he told their captain, that the vessel was now no more in their possession, but in his again; and that they were going for Majorca. At this unexpected news the captain wept, and desired the master not to sell him; which he promised he would not. Then they told him also, they would make a place to hide them in, that the Spaniards coming aboard should not find them. And so they did accordingly, at which the Turks were very glad.

Being come into the port of Majorca, the master, with four men, went ashore, and left the mate on board with ten Turks. The master having done his business, returned on board, not taking licence, lest the Spaniards should come and see the Turks: but another English master, being an acquaintance, lying there also with his ship, came at night on board; and after some discourse, they told him what they had done, under promise of silence, lest the Spaniards should come and take away the Turks. But he broke his promise, and would have had two or three of the Turks, to have brought them to England. His design then being seen, his demand was denied; and seeing he could not prevail, he said to Pattison and his mate, that they were fools, because they would not sell the Turks, which were each worth two or three hundred pieces of eight. But they told him, that if they would give many thousands, they should not have one, for they hoped to send them home again; and to sell them, the mate said, he would not have done for the whole island. The other master then coming ashore, told the Spaniards what he knew of this, who then threatened to take away the Turks. But Pattison and his mate having heard this, called out the Turks, and said to them, ‘Ye must help us or the Spaniards will take you from us.’ To this the Turks, as one may easily guess, were very ready, and so they quickly got out to sea: and the English, to save the Turks, put themselves to the hazard of being overcome again; for they continued hovering several days, because they would not put into any port of Spain, for fear of losing the Turks: to whom they gave liberty for four or five days, until they made an attempt to rise; which the mate perceiving, he prevented, without hurting any of them, though he once laid hold of one; yet generally he was so kind to them, that some of his men grumbled, and said he had more care for the Turks than for them. To which his answer was, they were strangers, and therefore he must treat them well. At length, after several occurrences, the mate told the master, that he thought it best to go to the coasts of Barbary, because they were then like to miss their men of war. To this the master consented. However, to deceive the Turks, they sailed to and fro for several days; for in the day-time they were for going to Algiers, but when night came they steered the contrary way, and went back again, by which means they kept the Turks in ignorance, so as to be quiet.

But on the 9th day, being all upon deck, when none of the English were there but the master, his mate, and the man at the helm, they began to be so untoward and haughty, that it rose in the mate’s mind, what if they should lay hold on the master, and cast him overboard: for they were ten lusty men, and he but a little man. This thought struck him with terror; but recollecting himself, and taking heart, he stamped with his foot and the men coming up, one asked for the crow, and another for the axe, to fall on the Turks; but the mate bade them not to hurt the Turks, and said, ‘I will lay hold on their captain:’ which he did, for having heard them threaten the master, he stept forward, and laying hold of the captain, said, he must go down, which he did very quietly, all the rest following him. Two days after, being come on the coast of Barbary, they were, according to what the Turks said, about fifty miles from Algiers, and six from land; and in the afternoon it fell calm. But how to set the Turks on shore was yet not resolved upon. The mate saw well enough, that he being the man who had begun this business, it would be his lot also to bring it to an end. He then acquainted the master that he was willing to carry the Turks on shore; but how to do this safely, he as yet knew not certainly; for to give them the boat was too dangerous, for then they might get men and arms, and so come and retake the ship with its own boat; and to carry them on shore with two or three of the ship’s men, was also a great hazard, because the Turks were ten in number: and to put one half on shore was no less dangerous; for then they might raise the country, and so surprise the English when they came with the other half. In this great strait the mate said to the master, if he would let him have the boat and three men to go with him, he would venture to put the Turks on shore. The master, relying perhaps on his mate’s conduct, consented to the proposal, though not without some tears dropt on both sides. Yet the mate taking courage, said to the master, ‘I believe the Lord will preserve me, for I have nothing but good-will in venturing my life, and I have not the least fear upon me; but trust that all will do well.’

The master having consented, the mate called up the Turks, and going with two men and a boy in the boat, took in these ten Turks, all loose and unbound. Perhaps somebody will think this to be a very inconsiderate act of the mate, and that it would have been more prudent to have tied the Turks’ hands, the rather because he had made the men promise, that they should do nothing to the Turks, until he said, he could do no more; for then he gave them liberty to act for their lives so as they judged convenient. Now since he knew not how near he should bring the Turks ashore, and whether they should not have been necessitated to swim a little, it seemed not prudent, to do any thing which might have exasperated them; for if it had fallen out so that they must have swam, then of necessity they must have been untied; which would have been dangerous. Yet the mate did not omit to be as careful as possible he could. For calling in the captain of the Turks, he placed him first in the boat’s stern; then calling for another, he placed him in his lap, and one on each side, and two more in their laps, until he had placed them all; which he did to prevent a sudden rising. He himself sat with a boat-hook in his hand on the bow of the boat, having next to him one of the shipmen, and two that rowed, having one a carpenter’s adze, and the other a cooper’s heading-knife. These were all their arms, besides what belonged to the Turks, which they had at their command. Thus the boat went off, and stood for the shore. But as they came near it, the men growing afraid, one of them cried out of a sudden, ‘Lord have mercy on us, there are Turks in the bushes on shore.’ The Turks in the boat perceiving the English to be afraid, all rose at once. But the mate, who in this great strait continued to be hearty, showed himself now to be a man of courage, and bid the men to take up such arms as they had; but do nothing with them until he gave them leave. And then seeing that there were no men in the bushes, and that it was only an imagination, all fear was taken away from him, and his courage increasing, he thought with himself, ‘It is better to strike a man, than to cleave a man’s head; and turning the boat-hook in his hand, he struck the captain a smart blow, and bid him set down: which he did instantly, and so did all the rest. After the boat was come so near the shore, that they could easily wade, the mate bid the Turks jump out, and so they did; and because they said they were about four miles from a town, he gave them some loaves, and other necessaries.

They would fain have persuaded the English to go with them ashore to a town, promising to treat them with wine, and other good things; but though the mate trusted in Divine Providence, yet he was not so careless as freely to enter into an apparent danger, without being necessitated thereto: for though he had some thoughts that the Turks would not have done him any evil, yet it was too hazardous thus to have yielded to the mercy of those that lived there; and therefore he very prudently rejected their invitation, well knowing that the Scripture saith, “Thou shalt not tempt the Lord thy God.” The Turks seeing they could not persuade him, took their leave with signs of great kindness, and so went on shore. The English then putting the boat closer in, threw all their arms on shore, being unwilling to keep any thing of theirs. And when the Turks got up the hill, they waved their caps at the English, and so joyfully took their last farewell. And as soon as the boat came again on board, they had a fair wind, which they had not all the while the Turks were on board. Thus Thomas Lurting saved the ship and its men; which being thus wonderfully preserved, returned to England with a prosperous wind.

Now before the vessel arrived at London, the news of this extraordinary case was come thither; and when she was coming up the Thames, the king, with the duke of York, and several lords, being at Greenwich, it was told him, there was a Quaker’s ketch coming up the river, that had been taken by the Turks, and redeemed themselves without fighting. The king hearing this, came with his barge to the ship’s side, and holding the entering rope in his hand, he understood from the mate’s own mouth, how the thing had happened. But when he heard him say, how they had let the Turks go free, he said to the master, ’You have done like a fool, for you might have had good gain for them:’ and to the mate he said, ‘You should have brought the Turks to me.’ But the mate answered, ‘I thought it better for them to be in their own country.’ At which the king and others smiled, and so went away, thinking that the master had done foolishly; but he and his mate were of another opinion, and they made it appear that they did approve the lesson of our Saviour, “Love your enemies, and do good to those that hate you,” not only with their mouths, but that they had also put it into practice.

Though I have described this fact from a printed relation, yet I have added some circumstances from the mouth of the said mate, with whom I had some acquaintance.

Several years afterwards, when some seamen of the people called Quakers, were in slavery at Algiers, G. Fox wrote a book to the grand sultan, and the king at Algiers, wherein he laid before them their indecent behaviour, and unreasonable dealings, showing them from their alcoran that this displeased God, and that Mahomet had given them other directions. To this he added a succinct narrative of what hath been related here of G. Pattison’s ship being taken and retaken, and how the Turks were set at liberty, without being made slaves: by which the Mahometans might see what kind of Christians the Quakers were, viz. such as showed effectually that they loved their enemies, according to the doctrine of their supreme lawgiver, Christ. Now concerning those Quakers at Algiers, of whom mention hath been made that they were slaves there, it was a pretty long time before opportunity was found to redeem them; but in the meanwhile they so faithfully served their masters, that they were suffered to go loose through the town, without being chained or fettered; and liberty was also allowed them to meet at set times for religious worship: and their patrons themselves would sometimes come and see what they did there; and finding no images or prints, as Papist slaves in the exercise of their worship made use of, but hearing from their slaves that they reverently adored and worshipped the living God, Creator of Heaven and Earth, they commended them for it, and said it was very good, and that they might freely do so. And since one of them was raised to speak by way of edification to his friends, some other English slaves frequenting that meeting, came to be united with them. In the meanwhile the Quakers’ name came to be known at Algiers, as a people that might be trusted beyond others.

It was in this year that William Caton went to England with his wife from Holland, (where he was married,) and two friends more, one of which was Judith Zinspenning, my mother, who was moved to speak at the meeting at Kingston, where W. Caton interpreted for her. At another time being in a meeting at London, and he not present, and feeling herself stirred up to declare of the loving-kindness of the Lord to those that feared him, she desired one Peter Sybrands to be her interpreter; but he, though an honest man, yet not very fit for that service, one or more friends told her, they were so sensible of the power by which she spoke, that though they did not understand her words, yet they were edified by the life and power that accompanied her speech; and therefore they little mattered the want of interpretation; and so she went on without any interpreter. She had indeed a very good talent, and left such repute behind her, that I coming several years after into England, kindness was showed me in several places on her account. After a stay of some weeks at London, and thereabouts, she went to Colchester, in order to return with W. Caton’s wife to Holland; but making some stay in that town, she there wrote a book of proverbs, which, W. Caton having translated into English, was printed at London. After her departure, he staying behind, travelled through Essex, Warwickshire, Staffordshire, Derbyshire, Nottinghamshire, and Yorkshire; and coming into Lancashire, he repaired to Swarthmore, and found there not only his ancient mistress, Margaret Fell, who received him very kindly, but also G. Fox, not long before he was taken prisoner.

From thence Caton went to Sunderland, and so to Scarborough, where meeting with a vessel bound for Holland, he embarked, and went off with a fair wind: but it was not long before the wind changed; and being about ten leagues from the land, the sky began to look tempestuous; which made Caton advise the master to return; but he thinking the weather would soon change, was unwilling to do so; yet it fell out otherwise, for a violent storm arose, by which the ship was so exceedingly tossed, that she grew leaky, and took so much water, that the pumps continually must be kept going. But this so wearied the seamen, that Caton also fell to pumping; for though he found himself prepared to meet death, if it had been the will of the Lord, yet he knew it to be the duty of a man to preserve his life by lawful means, as long as possible; besides, he pitied the poor seamen, and so was made willing to help them as much as lay in his power. But at length they lost the use of the rudder, and were near the sands and shallows, by which the danger was greatly increased, and death seemed to approach.

Now Caton, though given up in the will of the Lord, and prepared to have found his grave in the deep, yet did not omit to call upon the Lord, and to pray to the Most High for deliverance, if it were consistent with his holy will; and when the storm was at the highest, his supplication was heard, and the tempest on a sudden began to cease, and the wind to abate; which gave him occasion to praise the Almighty for the great mercy showed to him and the mariners. Yet the wind being contrary, the master resolved to enter Yarmouth, where Caton met with another storm: for on the First-day of the week, being at a meeting of his friends, he with seven more were apprehended, and carried to the main guard. The next day they were brought before the bailiffs of the town, who tendered them the oath of allegiance; which they refusing to take, were sent to prison, where he was kept above six months, so that it was not till the next year that he returned into Holland.

Whilst he was in jail, Stephen Crisp came the first time into Holland, to visit his friends there, and to edify them with his gift. It would not be amiss here to say a little of his qualifications. He was a man of notable natural abilities, and had been zealous for religion before ever he entered into fellowship with those called Quakers. But when the report of this people spread itself in the place where he lived, he made inquiry after them and their doctrine, and though he heard nothing but evil spoken of them, it nevertheless made some impression upon his mind, when he considered how they were derided, hated, slandered, and persecuted; because this generally had been the lot of those that truly feared God. But having heard that one of their tenets was, that sin might be overcome in this life, this seemed to him a great error. And therefore, when James Parnel came to Colchester, he armed himself with arguments, to oppose him earnestly: for looking upon him as one that was but a youth, he thought he should be able to prevail upon him. He himself was then about seven and twenty years of age, being not only well versed in sacred writ, but also in the writings of many of the ancient philosophers. After he had heard Parnel preach very powerfully, and found his words more piercing than he had imagined, he ventured to oppose him with some queries; but he soon found that this young man was endued with sound judgment; and with all his wisdom and knowledge he was not able to resist him, but was forced to submit to the truth he held forth. Now he thought himself so enriched, that for a month or two he made it his business, by the strength of his reason, to defend the Truth he had embraced. But he soon found that this was not sufficient; for self was not subdued under the cross, and he was not yet come to an experimental knowledge of what he asserted and defended with words. In this condition he saw that he must truly become poor in spirit, if God ever should enrich him with heavenly wisdom. This brought him to mourning and sorrow, by which he came more and more to be weaned from his natural knowledge, wherein he used to delight. And continuing faithful in this way of self-denial, he at length began to enjoy peace in his mind, and so advanced in virtue and real knowledge, that in time he became an eminent minister of the gospel, and travelling to and fro, many were converted by his ministry.

About this time appeared in England, one Lodowick Muggleton, who pretended that he and one John Reeves were the two witnesses which are spoken of, Rev. xi. 3. And though it was not long before Reeves died, yet Muggleton continued in his wild imaginations, which grew to that degree, that he gave forth a paper, in which he said, ‘That he was the chief judge in the world, and in passing the sentence of eternal death and damnation upon the souls and bodies of men. That in obedience to his commission, he had already cursed and damned many hundreds of people both body and soul, from the presence of God, elect men, and angels, to eternity. That he went by as certain a rule in so doing, as the judges of the land do, when they give judgment according to law. And that no infinite Spirit of Christ, nor any god, could, or should be able to deliver from his sentence and curse,’ &c. These abominable blasphemies he gave forth in public.

Richard Farnsworth, a zealous and intelligent minister, among those called Quakers, answered this blasphemer in writing, and discovered the horribleness of his profane and cursed doctrine and positions; and he said, among the rest, in a book he published in print, ‘Consider the nature of thy offence, how far it extends itself; and that is, to pass the sentence of eternal death and damnation, both upon the bodies and souls of men and women, and that to eternity. Consider that thy injustice, done by colour of office, deserves to have a punishment proportionable to the offence; and can the offence in the eye of the Lord be any less than sin against the Holy Ghost, because thou hast pretended to do it in the name of the Holy Ghost, and so wouldest make the Holy Ghost the author of thy offence, which it is not? And seeing thou art guilty of sin against the Holy Ghost, there is a punishment already proportioned for such an offence; and also thou art punishable by the law of the land, for presuming, under pretence of a commission, and as a judge, to pass the sentence of death upon the bodies of men and women, and pretending to go by a certain rule in so doing, as the judges of the land do, &c.’ Thus continued Farnsworth to answer Muggleton at large, and showed him how his judgment was not only contrary to truth, but also against the law of the land. But he was daring enough to give a reply to this serious answer, and said in it, that he should commend Farnsworth, first, for setting his name to it; and, secondly, for setting down his words so truly and punctually, that it made his commission and authority to shine the more bright and clear. And that he was as true an ambassador of God, and judge of all men’s spiritual estate, as any ever was since the creation of the world, ‘And if you Quakers, and others, (thus continued he,) can satisfy yourselves, that there never was any man commissioned of God to bless and curse, then you shall all escape that curse I have pronounced upon so many hundreds: and I only shall suffer for cursing others, without a commission from God. But my commission is no pretended thing, but as true as Moses’s, the prophets’, and the apostles’ commission was.

A multitude more of abominations this blasphemer belched out, and among the rest, that no man could come to the assurance of the favour of God, but in believing that God gave this power unto John Reeves and himself. That he had power given him over all other gods, and infinite spirits whatsoever: that he, (Muggleton,) had the keys of heaven, and of hell; and that none could get into heaven, except he opened the gates. That he had power to remit their sins who received his doctrine, and to retain and bind their sins more close upon their consciences, for their despising, or not receiving his doctrine. That he was single in doctrine, knowledge, judgment, and power, above all men, either prophets, or apostles, since the beginning of the world, or that should be hereafter whilst the world doth endure. That there was no true minister, messenger, nor ambassador of God in the world, but himself; neither should there be sent any of God after him to the world’s end. That a God without him, spoke to him by voice of words, to the hearing of the ear. That no person condemned by him, could make his appeal unto God, neither by himself, nor by any other; because God was not in the world at all. ‘This power to condemn, (saith he,) hath God given unto me, and in this regard I am the only and alone judge, what shall become of men and women after death; neither shall those that are damned by me, see any other god or judge but me.’—I am loth to transcribe more of those most horrible blasphemies; and we have cause to wonder at the long forbearance of God, that he thus bore the disdainful affront offered by this inhuman monster, in defiance of his almightiness.

This Muggleton said also to Farnsworth, that because he was not under the sentence of his commission by verbal words, or writing, he should give answer to his letter. ‘For, (said he,) I never give answer in writing to any one that is under the sentence of my commission.’ This shuffle, not to be bound to answer, when he had shut up any one under his pretended damnation, seemed comical and facetious. Yet Farnsworth did not omit to answer his blasphemous positions publicly, and to show the absurdity of Muggleton, and John Reeve’s being the two witnesses.

Hereafter I shall have occasion again to make mention of this Muggleton, for he lived yet several years: and do not find that any punishment was inflicted on him by the magistrates, other than the pillory, and half a year’s imprisonment; though many think, (not without good reason,) that such blasphemers ought to be secluded from conversation with men.

Francis Howgill, in the latter part of this year, being in the market at Kendal, in Westmoreland, about his business, was summoned by the high constable to appear before the justices of the peace at a tavern. For being a zealous preacher among those called Quakers, occasion was watched to imprison him under some colour of justice, how unjust soever. Being come to the place appointed, the oath of allegiance was tendered him; and because for conscience-sake he refused to swear, they committed him to prison till the assizes at Appleby. Then appearing at Appleby, the same oath was tendered him in court by the judges; for not taking of which he was indicted, only he had liberty to answer to the indictment at the next assizes. In the meantime there being a jail delivery at Appleby, he was required to enter into bond for his good behaviour: but well knowing this was only a snare to bring him into further bonds, he refused, and so was recommitted to prison. And not being tried till next year, we shall leave him there.

About this time happened a singular case, which I cannot well pass by unmentioned. One Oliver Atherton, a man of a weak constitution, having refused to pay tithes to the countess of Derby, who laid claim to the ecclesiastical revenues of the parish of Ormskirk, where he lived, was by her prosecution imprisoned at Derby, in a moist and unwholesome hole, which so weakened him, that after having lain there two years and a half, he grew sick; and a letter was wrote in his name to the countess, in which was laid before her not only the cause why he had refused the payment of tithes, viz. for conscience-sake, but also that his life was in danger, if he staid longer in that unwholesome prison: and that therefore she ought to show compassion, lest she drew the guilt of innocent blood upon her.

Now though Oliver’s son, who brought this letter, met with rough treatment for not uncovering his head, yet the letter was delivered into her own hands: but the countess continued hard-hearted. Godfrey, the son, returned to his father in prison, and told him, (who was now on his death bed,) that the countess would not allow him any liberty. To which he said, ‘She has been the cause of much bloodshed; but this will be the heaviest blood to her that ever she spilt.’ And not long after he died. His friends having got his corpse, carried it to Ormskirk, but at Garstang, Preston, and other towns they past, they fastened to the market cross the following inscription, which also had been put on his coffin.

‘This is Oliver Atherton from the parish of Ormskirk, who by the countess of Derby had been persecuted to death, for keeping a good conscience towards God and Christ, in not paying of tithes to her.’

Now though three more, who with him were imprisoned for the same cause, gave notice of this to the countess, that they might not likewise die in prison, as their fellow prisoner had, yet she would show no pity; and threatened to accuse those at Garstang, to the king and his council, for having suffered the putting up of the said inscription. But by this she opened people’s mouth’s the more, and an omnipotent hand prevented the executing of her threatening; for exactly three weeks after the day Atherton was buried, she died.

This year also in October, Humphrey Smith, a preacher among those called Quakers, having been prisoner a year at Winchester, for his religion, was by death delivered from his bonds. He had a vision in the year 1660, in the month called July, concerning the fire of London, which happened six years after: a relation of which he gave forth in print.

In the year 1662, being about London, he said to some of his friends, that he had a narrow path to pass through; and more than once signified, he saw he should be imprisoned, and that it might cost him his life. And coming not long after to Alton in Hampshire, he was taken from a meeting of his friends, and committed to a stinking close prison at Winchester, where after a whole year’s imprisonment, he fell sick; and in the time of his sickness spoke many excellent words to those about him, signifying, that he was given up to the will of the Lord either in life or death. And lying in great weakness, he said, ‘My heart is filled with the power of God. It is good for a man at such a time as this, to have the Lord to be his friend.’ At another time he was heard to say, ‘Lord, thou hast sent me forth to do thy will, and I have been faithful unto thee in my small measure, which thou hast committed unto me; but if thou wilt yet try me further, thy will be done.’ Also he said, ‘I am the Lord’s, let him do what he will.’ Not long before his departure he prayed very earnestly, saying, ‘O Lord, hear the inward sighs and groans of thine oppressed, and deliver my soul from the oppressor. Hear me, O Lord, uphold and preserve me. I know that my Redeemer liveth. Thou art strong and mighty, O Lord.’ He also prayed to God, that he would deliver his people from their cruel oppressors. And for those that had been convinced by his ministry, that the Lord would be their teacher. He continued quiet and sensible to the last period of his life, dying a prisoner for bearing witness to truth; and thus he stept from this troublesome and transitory life, into one that is everlasting.

END OF VOLUME I.