Some of the noblest adherents fo the Quaker cause were not the original Quakers themselves but those Cape men and women who first attempted to befriend the persecuted and ended by becoming converted to their doctrines. William Allen of Sandwich was a shining example of this type.

Such times of religious conflict always bring to light the finest and meanest among men, and the latter variety found its champion in George Barlow, who was appointed a special marshal of the three towns of Sandwich, Barntable, and Yarmouth. He had to be appointed because no local man could be found who would volunteer to carry out the measures ordered by the Court. Taken together, Allen and Barlow provide an example of white and black usually non-existent except in old-time melodramas.

Allen was a man who had prospered through his own efforts, but his beliefs had made him poor. Fine after fine was levied against him for befriending and finally joining the Quakers. On one occasion he and three others were arrested, convicted, admonished, and fined twenty shillings "for tumultuous carriage at a meeting of Quakers" at which no Quakers were present! This rank injustice merely encouraged the men involved to become professed Quakers.

Barlow was one of those rare villains of whom absolutely nothing good, however small, can be said. A renegade Episcopal minister to begin with, he was a bully, a drunkard, and a ne'er-do-well who was constantly in trouble, even at home. One of his daughters-in-law was arraigned "for chopping her father in the back" and was fined ten pounds. Two others were before the court "for like carriages" toward their father-in-law and were sentenced to be set in the stocks. Barlow and wife, for "ungodly living," were reproved by the authorities. Such was the man chosen by the Court as marshal of three towns. The appointment of such a man, with full knowledge of his nature and methods, says little for the character of the Court and its supporters.

With special orders to harry a sect whose beliefs forbade physical resistance, Barlow was really in his element. To the credit of society in general, he was unable to enroll any deputies. One man after another, ordered to assist him, refused to do so even though each knew he would be fined for refusing. Barlow did not mind going it alone, however. He loved his work, and when non-Quakers told him what they thought of him, he reported them and they were fined, too.

After a family's little stock of money was gone, Barlow collected the fines in kind, nosing about in the victim's house and taking his most essential belonging...the pots, kettles, tools and utensils that were needed every day, things that were scarce in the Colony and, consequently, heartbreaking to lose.

At a time when William Allen was in prison in Boston, Barlow paid a visit to the Allen home. He took the cow and all the food he could find, including some given to Mrs. Allen by neighbors. Then for good measure he confiscated the only kettle she had, and leered at her triumphantly. "Now, Priscilla, how will thee cook for thy family and friends? Thee has no kettle."

"George," said Priscilla, "that God who hears the young ravens when they cry will provide for them. I trust in that God, and I verily believe the time will come when thy necessity will be greater than mine."