e bubbling of the hidden springs,
That feed the world.'

Soon, out of the living Silence would have been born the fresh gift of
living speech....

When suddenly, into all this peace, there came the clattering of
horses' hoofs along the stony road that leads to the farm, followed by
loud voices and a pistol shot, as a body of troopers trotted right up
to the homestead. Finding that deserted and receiving no answers to
their shouts, they proceeded to the barn itself in search of the
assembled Friends. The officer in charge was a young Ensign, Lawrence
Hodgson, a very gay gentleman indeed, a gentleman of the Restoration,
when not only courtiers but soldiers too, knew well what it was to be
courtly.

He came from Dent, 'with other officers of the militia and soldiers.'
Now Dent was a place of importance, in those days, and looked down on
even Sedbergh as a mere village. Wherefore to be sent off to a small
farm in the outskirts of Sedbergh in search of a nest of Quakers was a
paltry job at best for these fine gentlemen from Dent. Naturally, they
set about it, cursing and swearing with a will, to shew what brave
fellows they were. For here were all these Quakers whom they had been
sent to harry, brazening out their crime in the full light of day. By
Act of Parliament it had been declared, not so long ago either, that
any Quakers who 'assembled to the number of five or more persons at
any one time, and in any one place, under pretence of joining in a
religious worship not authorised by law, were, on conviction, to
suffer merely fines or imprisonment for their first and second
offences, but for the third, they were to be liable to be transported
to any of His Majesty's plantations beyond seas.' A serious penalty
this, in those days second only to death itself, and a terror to the
most hardened of the soldiery; but here was a handful of humble
farmfolk, deliberately daring such a punishment unafraid.

'Stiff-necked Quakers--you shall answer for this,' shouted Ensign
Hodgson as he entered 'cursing and swearing' (so says the old account)
'and threatening that if Friends would not depart and disperse he
would kill them and slay and what not.' 'You look like hardened
offenders, all of you, and I doubt this is not a first offence.' So
saying, the Ensign set spurs to his horse and rode up and down the
barn, overturning forms and chairs, slashing at the women Friends
with the flat of his sword, while some of the roughest of