During the remainder of 1743 and the beginning of 1744, John Wesley journeyed first to Newcastle, then after many other journeys we find him in April, 1744, again in Cornwall (where things were now quieter, and he escaped with, every now and then, a shower of stones and dirt), then, in May, again in the North, when he visited Birstal. But our friend John Nelson was not there; he had been “sent for a soldier,” as it was called; that is, he had been forced to become a soldier, which was a thing allowed in those days. The young Stuart Prince, Charles Edward, was threatening to come into England with an army, and troops were called out for the defense of the country. But the reason, and the only reason, given why John Nelson was chosen as one of the recruits was that “he was a preacher.” It was thought the best way to stop his mouth. Wesley went on further North, and next month, at Durham, met poor John Nelson and another Methodist, Thomas Beard, who had also been dragged away from his wife and children, the same reason being given, that “he was a preacher.” This poor man, Thomas Beard, died shortly after in the Newcastle Hospital from the ill-treatment he received. He was the first Methodist who had been called to lay down his life. John Nelson had a sorrowful tale to tell Mr. Wesley. I will tell it you. He had been told when he was seized that it was on account of his preaching, and that only, that he was condemned to be a soldier against his will. He was taken from one town to another, and at last, on reaching Bradford, he was sentenced to be put in a dungeon, instead of lodging with the other soldiers. A kind soldier went to the captain, and said “Sir, if you will give me charge over Mr. Nelson, instead of putting him in the dungeon, my life for his, he shall be forthcoming in the morning.” The captain, however, only replied “If you say anything more about Nelson, I’ll break your head.” John himself only asked to have a little water, but this the captain refused, though the poor man had had nothing all day but a little tea for breakfast. The dungeon was a sort of hole under a slaughter-house, and filled with dirt, as the drainage of the slaughter-house ran down into it, so that the smell was dreadful indeed. But John said “My soul was so filled with the love of God that it was a paradise to me,” and he fell on his knees to thank God for His goodness in allowing him to be put in a dungeon for the truth’s sake, and also to pray for his persecutors, for he “wished them to be as happy as he was.” Late at night some friends came to the dungeon door and pushed some candles, some meat, and a bottle of water through a hole.
When John had eaten his supper, he joined his friends in singing hymns until it was nearly morning. One other man was shut up with John. He was not a Methodist. I do not know for what crime he was imprisoned. Early next morning Martha Nelson came to talk to John through the hole. She encouraged him to stand fast for Christ, and not to trouble himself about her and the children, for God would care for them. All this time John sat on the wet ground, for there was not even a stone for a seat. His fellow-prisoner, to whom he had given some of his food, was filled with wonder at all that happened. He said, “Are the people who brought you this your relations, that they love you so well?” Then John explained to him what it was to be Christ’s disciple, and to know the love of Christ, which makes Christians love one another. They then went on to Leeds, where John was lodged in the gaol, and the other soldiers in the alehouse. At York it was the same.
During this time John had many opportunities of speaking both to officers and men about their souls. After some days spent in York prison, John was brought before a court-martial. Here he was ordered to take the money paid to every soldier on enlisting. John said he could not fight, and would not therefore take the money. He was told that it was all the same as if he had received it. He must now consider himself a soldier, and wear the uniform. He was allowed to live in a lodging, but had to go through the drill, and follow the directions of a corporal who was placed over him. This corporal, however, proved to be a Christian, and treated him kindly. He was now allowed more liberty, and found opportunities of preaching, as well as speaking, to many of the people of York, who listened gladly. One evening, on a moor, near York, he preached to 6,000 people. The officers told him if he would not leave off preaching he should be severely flogged. John, however, said, “It is better to obey God than man;” and he preached again. He was, consequently, put in prison, a young ensign having taken great pains to get him punished. This young man kept a watchful eye upon him, and took every opportunity of persecuting him. “I hope you will preach again,” he said, one day, with an oath, “that I may get you a worse punishment.” “Sir,” said John, “you will get a worse punishment for swearing than I shall for preaching.” The young man, however, continued to mock and torment him, and followed him about for no other purpose. It was a trial to John to be made the sport of a wicked, ignorant lad, and for one moment the thought came into his mind how easy it would be for a sturdy Yorkshireman as he was, to “tie him up head and heels together;” but the next moment he felt it was best to pray for him. All this had happened to John before he met Mr. Wesley at Durham, and it was a great comfort to him to see his old friend, and to talk and pray with him, and tell him of his troubles and his joys. The next day, however, John was marched off to Sunderland, and thence from one town to another, till on his return to Sunderland a week or two later, he had a severe illness for three weeks, from so much marching in the hot weather. At the end of that time he received the good news that, by the order of the Earl of Stair, he was to be set at liberty. He was told to go to Newcastle, and receive his discharge from the major, who was there. The adjutant and three more officers were to go with him, and fill up the discharge. When the adjutant had done so, he said to the major, “I wish all the men in our regiment would behave as well as Mr. Nelson has done since he has been amongst us; it would be better for us and them too.” The lieutenant added, “Indeed he has done much good since he came among us, for we have not had one-third of the cursing and swearing in the regiment which we had before he came, and he has given me several private exhortations, and some of their books, and I thank him for them, and for his advice, for they are good.” Then the major said, “I wish I had a regiment of such men as he is in all respects, save that one, his refusing to fight. I would not care what enemy I had to meet, or where my lot was cast.” Then John explained for what reason he could not fight, and this led to a conversation, which gave him an opportunity of preaching the gospel to all the officers present. The major and the rest then took a kind leave of him, and said they wished him well wherever he went.
John found that his release had been obtained through Lady Huntingdon, who had spoken to the Earl of Stair about his case. Another man had to be sent in his place, and the Methodists had to pay this man to undertake it. John Downs, who had shared Nelson’s horse in Cornwall, and who had also been “sent as a soldier” on account of his preaching, was set free at the same time.