ESR Geraldine Leatherock Professor of Quaker Studies Stephen W. Angell delivered a version of this essay as a lecture for the Gathering of Adult Young Friends in Plainfield,
Indiana, on November 8, 2013.
This
essay proposes to examine the life of first-generation Quaker Mary Fisher as a
lens to examine issues relating to Quaker engagement with interreligious,
intercultural, and intra-cultural dialogue, as well as issues relating to God’s
progressive or continuing revelation over time. Let’s distinguish, at the
start, three different kinds of interreligious dialogue: (1) ecumenical
dialogue – i.e., dialogue between Quakers and other Christians; (2) interfaith
dialogue – i.e., dialogue between Quakers and Christians, on the one hand, and
non-Christians on the other; and (3) dialogue between different types of
Quakers. I’ll attempt to deal with all three kinds of interreligious dialogue
in this essay.
So,
who was Mary Fisher? She was an unmarried servant in her late twenties when she
first heard Quakers preach in 1652 (the first year of mass Quaker
convincements) in the north of England. Convinced along with her master and
mistress, she rushed out to prophesy. Admonishing the local parish minister to
“come down, come down, thou painted beast, come down. Thou art but a hireling,
and a deluder of the people with thy lies” occasioned her arrest for what was
to be the first of many imprisonments. Her broader point, whatever her
particular disagreements with her local minister, was that the Christian
churches had declined significantly in fidelity of witness to the original
Christian vision of Jesus and the first generation of apostles. Christianity,
in the manifestation of the Anglican church, had lost its simplicity, had
perverted the teachings of Jesus, and, most importantly, had lost the ability
to search for God’s leading as manifested by the inward teacher, Christ’s
Spirit. Quakers stated that the Christian Church was in “apostasy,” having
fallen away from the Truth – indeed, they had claimed this had happened after
the first Christian century – and they aimed to reinvigorate Christ’s witness
within a supposedly Christian church and Christian nation.
There,
in jail, she met older Quaker women, such as the fifty-two year old ElizabethHooton. She also became acquainted with persons sentenced to hang, as convicted
horse thieves. She wrote a letter of protest to the judge, telling him that
what he had done was “contrary to that in thy conscience which tells thee that thee
should not put to death any creature. Lay it to heart and let the oppressed go
free.” She signed her name as “Mary Fisher, prisoner” and “one who desires the
good of all creatures.”
She
was imprisoned for more than a year, and then traveled south in England with
Elizabeth Williams, another other woman and unmarried, to witness to scoffing
scholars at Cambridge. Young adult Friends were routinely paired with older
Friends of the same gender as pairs of ministers left to preach the
“everlasting gospel” (Rev. 14:6); mentor relationships were prized. In
seventeenth-century England, one woman (or two) presuming to preach the Word of
the Lord was immensely offensive, not to mention the fact that she was
spreading the message of the despised Quakers. As with the parish minister in
the north of England, she addressed the Cambridge students directly and
harshly, calling them a cage of unclean birds. Cambridge students stoned the
women. Then Fisher and Williams were arrested and treated brutally, stripped
naked to the waist and whipped savagely in the marketplace, until “their flesh
was miserably cut and torn,” according to the chronicler of Quaker sufferings,
Joseph Besse. They were treated “far more cruelly than is usually done to the worst
of Malefactors.”
The
intrepid Fisher was determined to continue with her ministry. After two more
imprisonments, one in York and one in Buckinghamshire, Fisher again traveled
with an older woman, Ann Austin, married with five children, and this time, they
booked a passage across the Atlantic (via Barbados in the West Indies) to
declare the word of the Lord to the inhabitants of Boston. When they arrived,
they were denied permission to land, their books were confiscated, they were
kept in solitary confinement, and they were stripped naked in order to search
their bodies for signs that they were witches. One English Quaker, George
Bishop, compared the Boston magistrates’ treatment of Fisher and Austin to the
Spanish inquisition.
Eventually,
they were deported to Barbados, where Fisher worked in order to gain money to
return to England. One Barbados Friend wrote of her ministry there, “Mary
Fisher is a precious heart, and has been very serviceable here.” Fisher
addressed Friends in Barbados as her “dear babes,” and advised them to “love
not your lives unto the death” but rather “give up freely, soul and body as a
living sacrifice.” All of our righteousness “is of God”; any other kind of
righteousness is “an unclean garment, which is a shame to be warm.” Historian
Phyllis Mack elaborates that, for groups of Quakers to whom Fisher had already
preached, she “acted as a pastor, not a social critic.” Fisher was well
acquainted with both the pastoral and prophetic forms of ministry. She
encouraged George Fox to send more Quaker ministers to Barbados, assuring them
that they would be “serviceable” there. In 1671, Fox would come himself to
Barbados.
Eventually
she did return, but then, in 1657, in her early thirties, she set out on her
most ambitious missionary journey of all. With four other Quakers (two men and
two women), she set off for the eastern Mediterranean. They may have desired to
minister in Jerusalem, but they got as far as Greece and Turkey. The English
envoy in Turkey opposed the Quakers and managed to force them to leave, but
Fisher was not clear to leave Turkey, and became separated from her companions,
traveling overland by herself to visit the Ottoman emperor Mehmed IV at
Adrianople, or modern-day Edirne. (It is still a part of the country of Turkey,
and is located on the continent of Europe.) He was known to English people as
the “Great Turk,” and he was greatly feared. His military campaigns conquered
much of eastern Europe, and his armies later reached the outskirts of Vienna
before being turned back. It was not easy to get an audience with the emperor,
but Fisher was diligent in her attempt, and eventually was able to gain an
audience with an important assistant to the emperor, the son of the grand
vizier, Koprulu Fazil Ahmed Pasha. Pasha was able to get Fisher a meeting with
the emperor.
Fisher’s
account of her meeting with the emperor is the only one that survives. It must
have been an impressive spectacle, as she was received in the emperor’s court,
with all of his “great men” around him, along with three interpreters. The
emperor asked her whether she had something to say to him. Fisher affirmed that
she did, but stood silent for a time, waiting on the Lord. The emperor supposed
that she might be afraid of him, and so he spoke encouragingly, bidding her to
“speak the Word of the Lord to them, neither more nor less, and not to fear,
for they had good hearts, and could hear it.” At that point, Fisher did find
that it was given to her to speak, and she said what she had to say. She did
not record her own message, but she asked the emperor whether he understood
everything she had said, and he responded, “Yes, every word.” He affirmed the truth of her statements, and
asked her to stay in Turkey, and when she declined, offered her a guard, to
bring her to the seaport of Istanbul. She declined that offer as well,
“trusting in the Arm of the Lord, which had brought her thither and had
prospered her work, to bring her back.”
Then
some in his Court asked her a question that she hadn’t anticipated: “What do
you think of our prophet, Mohammed?” Cautiously, she replied that she did not
know Mohammed; “but Christ the true prophet, the Son of God, who was the light
of the world, and enlightened every man coming into the world, him she knew.”
She ventured to add that, concerning Mohammed, her hosts “might judge of him to
be true or false; according to the words and prophecies he spoke.” If his
prophecies came to pass, then they should know that God had sent him as a
prophet. This answer pleased the Turks.
So
she left as she had come, unaccompanied, and returned to Istanbul for passage
back to England. It had been an arduous journey: Fisher recalled she had met
with “many trials such as I never met with before.” Still, she was left by a
favorable impression of the Turks and their emperor. “He was very noble unto
me,” she recalled. “He received the words of truth without contradiction, they
do dread the name of God, many of them.” On an even more optimistic note, she
affirmed that “there is a royal seed” among the Turks “which in time God will
raise. They are more near Truth than many nations; there is a love begot in me
toward them which is endless, but this is my hope concerning them, that he who
hath raised me to love them more than many others will also raise his seed in
them unto which my love is. Nevertheless, though they be called Turks, the seed
of them is near unto God, and their kindness hath in some measure been shown
toward his servants.” She had certainly been treated more kindly in far-off
Turkey than she had been in her native England, or in New England. It’s also
likely that she did not call the Ottoman emperor a painted beast, nor his court
a cage of unclean birds, as she had various of her fellow English. To state the
obvious, the level of insult in one’s rhetoric does matter. And she did more
listening in Turkey than she did among the Anglicans in England.
So
the “interfaith” part of Fisher’s witness was much gentler than what I will
misleadingly term the “ecumenical” part of her witness. In fact, there was
little of what we would now call the ecumenical spirit in the way that
different groups of Christians confronted one another in the seventeenth
century. But there was a great deal at stake for Quakers in their interfaith
contacts with Jews, Muslims, and Native Americans. Alone among English
Christians, they believed that the inward teacher could bring these groups of
non-Christians into saving contact with the Truth. Consequently, there was
every indication that, with these folks, they adopted a respectful approach.
Early Quakers tended to have an admirable interfaith outreach.
Perhaps
as a result of Mary Fisher’s experience, at least in part, Quakers were more
likely to have a generous assessment of Turks, or Muslims. For example, the
later Quaker writer William Penn’s references to Turks were almost invariably
positive, as he meant to convey an honest non-Christian who had some degree of
religious understanding beyond his or her own religion of Islam. (By contrast,
Penn’s most important teacher, Moses Amyraut, a French Huguenot scholar, had a
highly negative view of Islam.) Furthermore, Penn believed that the Turks were
superior in morality to hypocritical Christians. Penn, unlike Fisher, never
traveled to Turkey and thus had little or no acquaintance with actual Turks,
but he could easily have come to this conclusion by meditating upon Fisher’s
story.
Fisher,
unlike many seventeenth-century Quakers, was relatively long-lived. After her
return from Turkey, she married a Quaker ship captain, William Bayly, who was
also an important Quaker preacher and writer. She stayed close to her Dorset
home while married to Bayly, although she was arrested once in London in 1662
and roughly treated, despite being pregnant at the time. She bore three
children, two boys and a girl, while married to Bayly.
There
were several Quaker schisms in the last four decades of the seventeenth
century. Mary doesn’t seem to have been involved in this aspect of
seventeenth-century tumult. But one of the issues at hand was whether women
should be involved in Quaker business processes. Until George Fox and Margaret
Fell regularized Quaker business process in the late 1660s, Quaker men handled
all of the meeting business, but Fox and Fell set up separate Quaker meetings
for business for women at that time. William Mather, a Quaker dissenter,
objected: “Can there be greater imposters, than those that judge all people,
not to be of God, for not submitting to a female government in marriage? A
thing never heard of, except the government of the Amazons. Was not that
eminent man, William Penn, ashamed to mention this frivolous government of
women, fearing the world would laugh at it, as indeed well they might, having
never heard before that a meeting of women must be advised with, before
marriage. We are not against a woman’s declaring in a religious meeting, what
God has done for her soul, by silently waiting at the feet of Jesus, as Mary
did. Nor are we against women meeting by themselves, upon a particular
occasion, but not monthly for government.”
While
we don’t have documentation, it is not hard to imagine that Mary Fisher would
have vigorously opposed Mather’s perspective. Phyllis Mack writes, “When we
learn of Mary Fisher, an illiterate serving maid, instructing Muslims,
Puritans, and pagans on the other side of the world, it is difficult to ‘read’
her experience as anything other than a quest for personal freedom and
autonomy.” But Mack goes on to observe
that Quaker women also embraced a collective identity of Quakerism that made
space for this kind of freedom for women. Fisher would not have embraced,
however, the more rigid constrictions for women’s freedom that the Quaker
separatist Mather sought.
Bayly
died at sea in 1675, and three years later, she married a second time, this
time to John Cross, a Quaker shoemaker. With Cross, she emigrated to South
Carolina, with all of her children. She outlived her second husband, too, dying
in 1698 aged about 75. She was a very
active Quaker in South Carolina, with Friends there addressing her reverently
as “Mother Cross.” While her children remained Quakers, her grandchildren all
married out of the Meeting and became Anglicans. One of her granddaughters,
Sophia Hume, subsequently experienced convincement to Quakerism and became a
minister (or “public Friend”) like her grandmother had been.
In
her last years, she owned ten slaves, both African and Indian. Her prophetic
ministry as an adult young Friend involved proclaiming the injustice of the
death penalty for theft to a judge in England; as an older Friend, however, she
never protested against slavery, neither in Barbados nor in South Carolina;
indeed she became a slaveholder himself. While prophesying against some forms
of injustice, she became ensnared in others. We might recall that George Fox,
while ministering to Quaker slaveholders in Barbados, admonished them to
include their slaves in their meeting for worship, and suggested that they free
their slaves after some “considerable” period of years. It is unclear how
closely slaveholding Friends in America followed Fox’s advice on these matters,
but it seems likely that many, or most, Quaker masters during Mary Fisher Bayly
Cross’ lifetime generally excluded slaves, i.e., human beings denied fundamental aspects of humanity,
from Christian worship of any kind. Following anti-slavery activists such as
eighteenth-century Quakers John Woolman and Anthony Benezet, we perceive a
continuing revelation that causes us to abhor holding any of our fellow human
beings in bondage.
We
can be confident that we have identified one of Fisher’s blind spots, one for
which we would criticize her in retrospect. But let us also recollect historian
Barbara Tuchman’s comment that one of the uses of history is that it can serve
as a “distant mirror.” When we gaze back several centuries, we just possibly
might be startled to find our own faces staring back at us, in what we have
found. Along these lines, I or we, might ask: What are my blind spots, what are
our blind spots, for which I, and we, will be criticized in the future? Where
is the Holy Spirit nudging us, and telling us that we need to grow?
In
conclusion, we should note that, while Quakers, to this day, are inspired by
Mary Fisher’s interfaith witness, the ecumenical vision of Quakers (and also
that of the Anglicans or Episcopalians, the Quakers’ nemesis three centuries
ago) has changed and broadened considerably. Today, very few Quakers of any
branch of the Religious Society of Friends would uphold the early Quaker view that
other Christian churches had been apostate from the second century forward.
Instead, Quakers often embrace the modern ecumenical tenet that all Christian
churches preserve some vital aspect of the Christian vision, and there is much
for any Christian denomination to learn from the witness of other denominations,
as all manifest the light of Christ. Fisher, and others influenced by her like
Penn, were fascinated by honest, sincere Muslims, ironically finding more
virtue in the non-Christian Muslims than in many of their fellow Christians. The
modern-day ecumenical movement, including Quakers, is a steadfast witness to
the honesty, sincerity, and inspirational quality of a wide variety of
movements of faith and spirituality. The light of Christ shines in all, and we
have grown to appreciate and cherish our close community with even more people
of faith as we discern more closely how Christ’s Light is shining through them
– and through us, too.
Sources:
Stefano Villani’s article in the Oxford dictionary of national biography; Randy J. Sparks, “Mary Fisher, Sophia
Hume, and the Quakers of Charleston: Women Professing Godliness,” in South Carolina women, their lives and times:volume 1, ed. by Marjorie Julian Spruill, Valinda W. Littlefield, and Joan
Marie Johnson (Univ. of Georgia Press, 2009); Phyllis Mack, Visionary women: ecstatic prophecy inseventeenth-century England (Univ. of California Press, 1992); George
Bishop, New-England judged, by the spiritof the Lord (London, 1703); Hugh Barbour and Arthur Roberts, Early Quaker writings, 1650-1700 (Eerdmans,
1973); Stephen W. Angell, “William Penn’s debts to John Owen and Moses Amyraut
on questions of truth, grace and religious toleration,” Quaker Studies, March, 2012; QuakerFaith and Practice, 2nd ed. (Britain Yearly Meeting, 1999),
Sect. 19.27.
Very enlightening article. I admire Mary's courage and understand that her slaveholding was, in part, a product of the times. It is unfortunate that there are scriptures that can make slavery sound acceptable. Fortunately, we have continuing revelation, which helps guide us today where the book may hold historical views we would now refuse.
ReplyDeleteI wonder what would happen among Friends today if some of our members took to preaching in unconventional places, such as before the grand mullahs of Islam and the like. It appears to me that we are now, more or less, inclined to speak in the safety of our meeting houses rather than before those who possess the power to cause us harm. It's relatively easy to turn the other cheek when the only beatings we receive are those verbal ones from fellow Friends who have vested interests they wish to protect.
Which brings up another thought: Speaking of beatings, in a Puritanical era, what possessed men to strip women in public to beat them? Was it an accepted form of voyeurism?
-Chris Wynn (hadleyfriendsmeeting@hotmail.com)
Thanks for such a great reading of the article. Yes, I agree, early Quakers were much more likely to speak in places that they could suffer for being forthright in addressing those in power.
ReplyDeleteYour last paragraph brings up some interesting issues. Recall that they were stripped to search for signs of witchcraft in Massachusetts 40 years prior to the Salem witchcraft trials. This points out how the mid-seventeenth century period, which we often smoothly refer to as "the early modern period," was really a mix of medieval and modern. It would be the reaction against the witchcraft trials that would lead to what I think of as a Practical Enlightenment that would make witchcraft accusations against women impossible.
Beyond that, and more to your point, work by Michele Tarter and others have been examining the role of Quakers' physicality (and, especially, Quaker women's physicality) in their work. One factor that she points to is the Puritans' utter convictions of the reality of original sin as highly influencing them to abhor their bodies, especially women's bodies. Writes Tarter:
"As feminist theologians explain, traditional Aristotelian dualism of western culture separated the sexes by associating men with the soul and reason and women with the body and emotions. . . . In their battle between flesh and spirit, men subsequently located the female body as the site of disobedience, sinfulness, and the punishment of corporeal mortality . . . This denigration of the body carried far into the seventeenth century, when Calvinists and Puritans expressed a deep hostility toward the flesh as the site of original sin and innate depravity. As one Puritan minister graphically described, 'all the members of their bodies are only instruments of sin, and all their senses, seeing, hearing, tasting, &c. are only inlets and outlets of sin, channels of corruption' . . . As the figure of the body, identified with despised sexuality and immanence, women thus suffered severely for being situated as the trope of flesh and sin in the human world."
(Michele Tarter, "'Go North!' The Journey towards First-generation Friends and their Prophecy of Celestial Flesh" in Pink Dandelion, ed., The Creation of Quaker Theory, Ashgate, 2004).
Thank you so much for this interesting article. I hope you do not mind me saying that in addition to Fisher there were a number of Quakers in the seventeenth century who journeyed to Ottoman lands and engaged in dialogues with 'Turks' (both freely and also when enslaved either in Ottoman states or Morocco); there was even at least one 'Turk' who became a Quaker and settled in London. Some wrote quite extensively on Islam. Stephen Smith, for example, wrote a very positive text about the morality of Muslims and their faith based on his experience whilst a merchant living in what is now Syria. Even Fox, though a Moroccan ambassador on a visit to London was probably the only Muslim he met in person, produced some writings that made exceptional, constructive use of the 1649 English edition of the Qur'an, albeit from his Quaker Christian perspective. For more on this I'd recommend Nabil Matar's excellent work (especially Islam in Britain 1558-1685, 1998). I've tried to bring a lot of this material together with fresh archival data in my own recent book which might be of interest (Justin J. Meggitt, Early Quakers and Islam: Slavery, Apocalyptic and Christian-Muslim Encounters in the Seventeenth Century. Studies on Inter-Religious Relations 59. Uppsala: Swedish Science Press, 2013). Sorry for the self-publicity.There is much more to learn from this largely neglected part of the early Quaker story. Some of it really is, like the Fisher story, extremely unusual in the context of the day.
ReplyDeleteIn my blog post, I write: "In her last years, she [Mary Fisher] owned ten slaves, both African and Indian." This now appears to me to be in error.
ReplyDeleteMy source for this assertion was the following article: Randy J. Sparks, “Mary Fisher, Sophia Hume, and the Quakers of Charleston: Women Professing Godliness,” in South Carolina women, their lives and times:volume 1, ed. by Marjorie Julian Spruill, Valinda W. Littlefield, and Joan Marie Johnson (Univ. of Georgia Press, 2009).
Sparks does not say that Fisher owned ten slaves. He says that she may have owned as many as ten slaves.
But Sparks' article is what we historians call a secondary source, so, for another project I am currently working on, looking at views of white Quaker women on race and slavery prior to 1800, I decided to trace back the footnotes.
Sparks' assertion comes from another secondary source; that source in turn was quoting from a 1984 Ph.D. dissertation by Jo Anne McCormick on "Quakers of Colonial South Carolina." (I was fortunate that all these sources were at Lilly Library; that made tracing the footnote chain quite quick.)
What McCormick asserts, on her p. 32: She lists eight different Quakers who lived in South Carolina in the late 17th and early 18th century. One of her list of eight is Mary Fisher (or, Mary Fisher Crosse, as she was then known). She says that these eight Quakers each owned from one to ten slaves.
Guess what: Mary Fisher owned one slave.
It turns out that the primary source for the assertion that Mary Fisher owned slave(s) was her 1698 will. That will is available on line, through the JSTOR database to which Earlham subscribes.
It is dated Aug. 8, 1698. Mary Crosse, a "widow, being sick and weak" bequeathed land and other property to her sons and daughters -- and, to her daughter Mary Basden, she bequeathed "one Indian Girle slave named Rayner." That's it.
So, if Mary Fisher Crosse owned more than one slave, we have no primary source evidence to prove it.
Steve Angell