times, to recover it; so false I found that charge to be, which in those times was cast as a reproach upon the Quakers, that they despised and decried all human learning; because they denied it to be essentially necessary to a gospel ministry, which was one of the controversies of those times. But though I toiled hard and spared no pains, to regain what once I had been master of; yet I found it a matter of so great difficulty, that I was ready to say as the noble eunuch to Philip in another case, How can I, unless I had some man to guide me?' This I had formerly complained of to my especial friend Isaac Penington, but now more earnestly; which put him upon considering, and contriving a means for my assistance. He had an intimate acquaintance with Dr. Paget, a physician of note in London, and he with John Milton, a gentleman of great note for learning throughout the learned world, for the accurate pieces he had written on various subjects and occasions. This person having filled a public station in the former times, lived now a private and retired life in London; and having wholly lost his sight, kept always a man to read to him, which usually was the son of some gentleman of his acquaintance, whom in kindness he took to improve in his learning. Thus by the mediation of my friend Isaac Penington with Dr. Paget, and of Dr. Paget with John Milton, was I admitted to come to him; not as a servant to him, which at that time he needed not, nor to be in the house with him; but only to have the liberty of coming to his house, at certain hours, when I would, and to read to him what books he should appoint me; which was all the favour I desired. But this being a matter which would require some time to bring it about, in the meanwhile, I returned to my father's house in Oxfordshire. were in the house, that they might not be spoiled when I was gone; and because they were what I should have spent, if I had tar ried there, I took the money made of them to myself, for my support at London, if the project succeeded for my going thither. This done, I committed the care of the house to a tenant of my father's, who lived in the town, and taking my leave of Crowell, went up to my sure friend Isaac Penington again. Where understanding that the medi ation used for my admittance to John Milton, had succeeded so well that I might come when I would, I hastened to London, and in the first place went to wait upon him. He received me courteously, as well for the sake of Dr. Paget who introduced me, as of Isaac Penington who recommended me; to both of whom he bore a good respect. And having inquired divers things of me, with respect to my former progress in learning, he dismissed me, to provide myself such accom modations as might be most suitable to my future studies. I went therefore and took myself a lodging as near to his house, which was then in Jewen street, as I conveniently could, and from thenceforward went every day in the afternoon, except on the first-days of the week, and sitting by him in his dining-room, read to him in such books in the Latin tongue as he pleased to hear me read. At my first sitting to read to him, observ. ing that I used the English pronunciation, he told me, if I would have the benefit of the Latin tongue, not only to read and understand Latin authors, but to converse with foreigners, either abroad or at home, I must learn the foreign pronunciation. To this I consenting, he instructed me how to sound the vowels; so different from the common pronunciation used by the English, who Anglicise their La tin, that (with some few other variations in sounding some consonants, in particular cases; sa c before e or i, like ch;-sc before i, like sh, &c.,) the Latin thus spoken, seemed as different from that which was delivered as the English generally speak it, as if it were another language. I had before received direction, by letters from my eldest sister, written by my father's command, to put off what cattle he had left about his house, and to discharge his servants; which had done at the time called Michaelmas. So that all that winter, when I was at I had before, during my retired life at my home, I lived like a hermit, having a pretty father's, by unwearied diligence and industry, large house, and no body in it but myself, at so far recovered the rules of grammar, in nights especially; but an elderly woman, which I had once been very ready, that I whose father had been an old servant to the could both read a Latin author, and after a family, came every morning and made my sort, hammer out his meaning. But this change bed, and did what else I had occasion for her of pronunciation proved a new difficulty to to do, till I fell ill of the small-pox, and then me. It was now harder to me to read, than I had her with me, and the nurse. But now, it was before to understand when read. But understanding by letter from my sister, that my father did not intend to return to settle there, I disposed of those provisions which Incessant pains, The end obtains. And so did I; which made my reading the more acceptable to my master. He, on the other hand, perceiving with what earnest desire I pursued learning, gave me not only all the encouragement, but all the help he could. For having a curious ear, he knew by my tone when I understood what I read, and when I did not; and accordingly would stop me, examine me, and open the most difficult passages to me. Thus I went on for about six weeks time, reading to him in the afternoons; and exercising myself with my own books, in my chamber in the forenoons, and I was sensible of an improvement. But, alas! I had fixed my studies in a wrong place. London and I could never agree for health; my lungs, as I suppose, were too tender to bear the sulphurous air of that city, so that I soon began to droop; and in less than two months time, I was fain to leave both my studies and the city, and return into the country to preserve life; and much ado I had to get thither. I chose to go down to Wiccomb, and to John Raunce's house there; both as he was a physician, and his wife an honest, hearty, discreet and grave matron, of whom I had a very good esteem, and who I knew had a good regard for me. There I lay ill a considerable time, and in that degree of weakness, that scarcely any who saw me, expected my life. But the Lord was gracious to me in my illness, and was pleased to raise me up again, that I might serve him in my generation. As soon as I had recovered so much strength as to be fit to travel, I obtained of my father, who was then at his house in Crowell, to dispose of some things he had there, and who in my illness had come to see me, so much money as would clear all charges in the house, for both physic, food and attendance; and having fully discharged all, I took leave of my friends in that family and in the town, and returned to my studies at London. I was very kindly received by my master, who had conceived so good an opinion of me, that my conversation I found was acceptable to him, and he seemed heartily glad of my recovery and return; and we fell again into our old method of study, I reading to him, and he explaining to me as occasion required. But as if learning had been a forbidden fruit to me, scarcely was I well settled in my work, before I met with another diversion, which turned me quite out of it. A sudden storm arising, from I know not what surmise of a plot, and thereby danger to the government-the meetings of dissenters, such I mean as could be found, which per haps were not many besides the Quakers', were broken up throughout the city, and the prisons mostly filled with our friends. I was that morning, which was the 26th day of the eighth month 1662, at the meeting at the Bull and Mouth, by Aldersgate, when on a sudden, a party of soldiers of the trained bands of the city, rushed in with noise and clamour, being led by one who was called major Rosewell, an apothecary, if I misremember not, and at that time under the ill name of a papist. As soon as he was come within the room, having a file or two of musketeers at his heels, he commanded his men to present their muskets at us, which they did; with intent I suppose to strike terror into the people. Then he made a proclamation, that all who were not Quakers might depart if they would. It so happened, that a young man, an ap prentice in London, whose name was Dove, the son of Dr. Dove of Chinner, near Crowell in Oxfordshire, came that day in curiosity to see the meeting; and coming early, and finding me there, whom he knew, came and sat down by me. As soon as he heard the noise of soldiers, he was much startled, and asked me softly, if I would not shift for myself and try to get out. I told him, no; I was in my place, and was willing to suffer if it was my lot. When he heard the notice given, that they who were not Quakers might depart, he solicited me again to be gone. I told him, I could not do so, for that would be to renounce my profession, which I would by no means do; but as for him, who was not one of us, he might do as he pleased. Whereupon, wishing me well, he turned away, and with cap in hand went out. And truly I was glad he was gone, for his master was a rigid Presbyterian, who in all likelihood would have led him a wretched life, had he been taken and imprisoned among the Quakers. The soldiers came so early, that the meeting was not fully gathered; and when the mixt company were gone out, we were so few, and sat so thin in that large room, that they might. take a clear view of us all, and single us out as they pleased. He that commanded the party, gave us first a general charge to come out of the room. But we, who came thither at God's requiring, to worship him, like that good man of old, who said, we ought to obey God rather than men, Acts v. 29., stirred not, but kept our places. Whereupon he sent some of his soldiers among us, with command to drag or drive us out; which they did roughly enough. When we came out into the street, we were received there by other soldiers, who with their pikes holden length-ways from one to another, encompassed us round as sheep in a pound; and there we stood a pretty time, while they were picking up more to add to our number. In this work none seemed so eager and active as their leader, major Rosewell. Which I observing, stepped boldly to him, as he was passing by me, and asked him if he intended a massacre? for of that, in those times, there was a great apprehension and talk. The suddenness of the question, from such a young man especially, somewhat startled him; but recollecting himself, he answered, No; but I intend to have you all hanged by the wholesome laws of the land.' When he had gotten as many as he could, or thought fit, which were in number thirtytwo, whereof two were catched up in the street, who had not been at the meeting, he ordered the pikes to be opened before us; and giving the word to march, went himself at the head of us-the soldiers with their pikes making a lane to keep us from scattering. He led us up Martins, and so turned down to Newgate, where I expected he would have lodged us. But to my disappointment, he went on through Newgate, and turning through the Old-Bailey, brought us into Fleet street. I was then wholly at a loss to conjecture whither he would lead us, unless it were to Whitehall, for I knew nothing then of OldBridewell; but on a sudden he gave a short turn, and brought us before the gate of that prison, where knocking, the wicket was forthwith opened, and the master with his porter ready to receive us. One of those two who were picked up in the street, being near me, and telling me his case, I stepped to the major, and told him, that this man was not at the meeting, but was taken up in the street; and showed him how hard and unjust a thing it would be to put him into prison. I had not pleased him before in the question I had put to him about a massacre; and that, I suppose, made this solicitation less accept able to him from me, than it might have been from some other. For looking sternly on me, he said, 'Who are you, that take so much upon you? Seeing you are so busy, you shall be the first man that shall go into Bridewell;' and taking me by the shoulders, he thrust me in. As soon as I was in, the porter pointing with his finger, directed me to a fair pair of stairs on the further side of a large court, and bid me go up those stairs, and go on till I could go no further. Accordingly I went up the stairs; the first flight whereof brought me to a fair chapel on my left hand, which I could look into through the iron grates, but could not have gone into if I would. I knew that was not a place for me. Wherefore following my direction, and the winding of the stairs, I went up a story higher, which brought me into a room, which I soon perceived to be a court-room, or place of judica ture. After I had stood a while there, and taken a view of it, observing a door on the further side, I went to it and opened it, with intention to go in; but I quickly drew back, being almost affrighted at the dismalness of the place. For besides that the walls quite round were laid all over, from top to bottom in black, there stood in the middle of it a great whipping-post, which was all the furniture it had. In one of these two rooms judgment was given, and in the other it was executed on those ill people, who for their lewdness were sent to this prison, and there sentenced to be whipped. Which was so contrived, that the court might not only hear, but if they pleased, see their sentence executed. A sight so unexpected, and withal so unpleasing, gave me no encouragement either to rest, or indeed to enter at all there; till look. ing earnestly, I spied on the opposite side a door, which giving me hopes of a further progress, I ventured to step hastily to it, and opened it. This let me into one of the fairest rooms that, so far as I remember, I was ever in; and no wonder,-for though it was now put to this mean use, it had, for many ages past, been the royal seat or palace of the kings of Eng land, until Cardinal Wolsey built Whitehall, and offered it as a peace offering to king Henry the eighth; who until that time had kept his court in this house, and had this, as the people in the house reported, for his dining. room, by which name it then went. This room in length, for I lived long enough in it to have time to measure it, was three. score feet; and had breadth proportionable to it. In it, on the front side, were very large bay windows, in which stood a large table. It had other very large tables in it, with benches round; and at that time the floor was covered with rushes against some solemn festival, which I heard it was bespoken for. Here was my nil ultra, and here I found I might set up my pillar; for although there was a door out of it, to a back pair of stairs which led to it, yet that was kept locked. So that finding I had now followed my keeper's direction to the utmost point, beyond which I could not go, I sat down and considered that rhetorical saying, "That the way to Heaven lay by the gate of hell;" the black room, through which I passed into this, bearing some resemblance to the latter, as this compara-out the thread of my little stock to the utmost tively and by way of allusion, might in some sort be thought to bear to the former. But I was quickly put out of these thoughts, by the flocking in of the other Friends, my fellow-prisoners; amongst whom yet, when all were come together, there was but one whom I knew so much as by face, and with him I had no acquaintance. For I having been but a little while in the city, and in that time kept close to my studies, I was by that means known to very few. Soon after we were all gotten together, the master of the house came up after us, and demanded our names; which we might reasonably have refused to give, till we had been legally convened before some civil magistrate, who had power to examine us and demand our names. But we, who were neither guileful nor wilful, simply gave him our names, which he took down in writing. length, yet had I, by this time, reduced it to ten pence, which was all the money I had about me, or any where else at my command. This was but a small estate to enter upon an imprisonment with, yet was I not at all discouraged at it, nor had I a murmuring thought. I had known what it was moderately to abound, and if I should now come to suffer want, I knew I ought to be content; and through the grace of God I was so. had lived by Providence before, when for a long time I had no money at all, and I had always found the Lord a good provider. I made no doubt, therefore, that He who sent the ravens to feed Elijah, and who clothes the lilies, would find some means to sustain me with needful food and raiment; and I had learned by experience, the truth of that saying, "Nature is content with few things, or a little." It was, as I hinted before, a general storm Although the sight and smell of hot food which fell that day, but it lighted most heavily was sufficiently enticing to my empty stoupon our meetings; so that most of our men mach, for I had eaten little that morning, and Friends were made prisoners, and the prisons was hungry; yet considering the terms of the generally filled. And great work had the wo-invitation, I questioned whether I was inmen, to run about from prison to prison, to cluded in it; and after some reasonings, at find their husbands, their fathers, their bro-length concluded, that while I had ten pence thers, or their servants; for accordingly as in my pocket, I should be but an intruder to they had disposed themselves to several meet- that mess, which was provided for such as, ings, so were they dispersed to several prisons. perhaps, had not two pence in theirs. And no less care and pains had they, when they had found them, to furnish them with provisions and other necessary accommodations. But an excellent order, even in those early days, was practised among the Friends of that city, by which there were certain Friends of either sex, appointed to have the oversight of the prisons in every quarter, and to take care of all Friends, the poor especially, that should be committed thither. This prison of Bridewell, was under the care of two honest, grave, discreet and motherly women, whose names were Anne Merrick, afterwards Vivers, and Anne Travers, both widows. Being come to this resolution, I withdrew as far from the table as I could, and sat down in a quiet retirement of mind, till the repast was over, which was not long; for there were hands enough at it, to make light work of it. When evening came, the porter came up the back stairs, and opening the door, told us, if we desired to have any thing that was to be had in the house, he would bring it to us; for there was in the house, a chandler's shop, at which beer, bread, butter, cheese, eggs, and bacon, might be had for money. Upon which many went to him, and spoke for what of these things they had a mind to, giving him money to pay for them. Among the rest went I, and intending to So soon as they understood that there were spin out my ten pence as far as I could, deFriends brought into that prison, they pro- sired him to bring me a penny loaf only. vided some hot victuals, meat and broth, for When he returned, we all resorted to him to the weather was cold, and ordering their receive our several provisions, which he deservants to bring it, with bread, cheese and livered; and when he came to me, he told beer, came themselves also with it; and hav-me he could not get a penny loaf, but he had ing placed it on a table, gave notice to us, brought me two half-penny loaves. that it was provided for all those that had not others to provide for them; or were not able to provide for themselves. And there wanted not among us a competent number of such guests. As for my part, though I had lived as frugally as possibly I could, that I might draw This suited me better; wherefore returning to my place again, I sat down and eat up one of my loaves, reserving the other for the next day. This was to me both dinner and supper. And so well satisfied I was with it, that I could willingly then have gone to bed, if I had had one to go to; but that was not to be I thought I lay as well as ever I had done in expected there, nor had any one any bedding my life. brought in that night. Amongst those that remained, there were Some of the company had been so consi- several young men who cast themselves into derate, as to send for a pound of candles, that a club, and laying down every one an equal we might not sit all night in the dark, and proportion of money, put it into the hand of having lighted divers of them, and placed our friend Anne Travers, desiring her to lay them in several parts of that large room, we it out for them in provisions, and send them kept walking to keep us warm. in every day, a mess of hot meat; and they After I had warmed myself pretty tho-kindly invited me to come into their club with roughly, and the evening was pretty far them. These saw my person, and judged of spent, I bethought myself of a lodging; and me by that; but they saw not my purse, nor cast mine eye on the table which stood in the understood the lightness of my pocket. But bay-window, the frame whereof, looked, II, who alone understood my own condition, thought, somewhat like a bedstead. Willing knew I must sit down with lower commons. to make sure of that, I gathered up a good Wherefore, not giving them the true reason, arm-full of the rushes, wherewith the floor I as fairly as I could, excused myself from was covered, and spreading them under that table, crept in upon them in my clothes, and keeping on my hat, laid my head upon one end of the table's frame, instead of a bol ster. My example was followed by the rest, who gathering up the rushes as I had done, made themselves beds in other parts of the room, and so to rest we went. I having a quiet, easy mind, was soon asleep, and slept till about the middle of the night. And then waking, finding my legs and feet very cold, I crept out of my cabin and began to walk about. This waked and raised all the rest, who finding themselves cold, as well as I, got up and walked about with me, till we had pretty well warmed ourselves, and then we all lay down again and rested till morning. entering at present into their mess, and went on as before, to eat by myself, and that very sparingly, as my stock would bear. And be fore my ten pence was quite spent, Provi dence, on whom I relied, sent me in a fresh supply. For William Penington, a brother of Isaac Penington's, a Friend and merchant in Lon don, at whose house, before I came to live in the city, I was wont to lodge, having been at his brother's that day upon a visit, escaped this storm, and so was at liberty; and understanding when he came back, what had been done, bethought himself of me, and upon inquiry, hearing where I was, came in love to see me. He in discourse, amongst other things, asked me how it was with me as to money! and how well I was furnished? I told him I Next day, all they who had families, or be- could not boast of much, and yet I could not longed to families, had bedding of one sort or say I had none; though what I then had was other, brought in, which they disposed at the indeed next to none. Whereupon he put ends and sides of the room, leaving the mid-twenty shillings into my hand, and desired Idle void to walk in. me to accept of that for the present. But I, who had nobody to look after me, kept to my rush-pallet under the table, for four nights together, in which time I did not put off my clothes; yet, through the merciful goodness of God to me, I rested and slept well, and enjoyed health, without taking cold. In this time, divers of our company, through the solicitations of some of their relations or On the seventh-day he went down again, acquaintance to Sir Richard Brown, who was as he usually did, to his brother's house at at that time a great master of misrule in the Chalfont, and in discourse gave them an accity, and over Bridewell more especially, were count of my imprisonment. Whereupon, at released; and among these, one William Muck- his return on the second-day of the week fol low, who lay in a hammock. He having ob-lowing, my affectionate friend, Mary Pening served that I only was unprovided with lodg- ton, sent me by him, forty shillings, which ing, came very courteously to me, and kindly he soon after brought me; out of which I offered me the use of his hammock while I would have repaid him the twenty shillings should continue a prisoner. he had so kindly furnished me with, but he This was a providential accommodation to would not admit it, telling me, I might have me, which I received thankfully, both from occasion for that and more, before I got my the Lord and from him; and from thenceforth | liberty. |