Two Marys were amongst his earliest converts. Mary Matthews, of Madeley Wood, went to hear him with the mind of the Pharisee, but she left his presence with the heart of the publican. Having obtained the pardon of her sins, she opened her little house for preaching, and stood firm, although threatened by some of the villagers with a drum- led mob, and eventually haled before the magistrates and fined £20 for the offence of turning her cottage into a conventicle. Mary Barnard, a lame old women of ninety, counted no pain or distance too great to prevent her from making her toilsome journey to the church where she "first saw the light," and, uneducated as she was, her definite testimony to the power of the cleansing Blood often cheered the preacher who had blessed her. Fletcher's methods were unique for the times in which he lived. There was no hiding from him. Those who tried to escape his influence by avoiding his preachings were pursued into their various haunts and homes under all kinds of circumstances and at all hours. Some pretended that they could not awake in time to get ready for his early services; he responded by going out himself with a bell and sounding such clashing peals in various parts of the parish that there remained no shadow of excuse for their sleeping after 5 a.m.! He adopted the practice of dealing with criticisms and objections from the pulpit, a course sufficiently unusual to attract much attention to what he had to say. Work as he might, however, Fletcher received so little encouragement that he was frequently burdened with the fear lest he had mistaken the Divine appointment. One day, when he was much oppressed in this way, he was summoned to bury a parishioner. At once he lost sight of his own trouble in the opportunity of dealing out red-hot truths to a crowd of people. One man was so convicted that he broke out into a storm of bad language, fighting as best he knew how the strange influences of the Spirit. These were too strong for him, however, and he melted into tears of penitence. How gladly the Vicar gave him the pardon he asked for his behaviour, and led him further still into the joy of sins forgiven, can never be told. From that time he became an active helper in the parish, and one of Fletcher's greatest encouragements. The conversion of this man, however, seemed only the signal for greater opposition on the part of some of the colliers. A number of them were baiting a bull near Madeley Wood Meeting-house one night when he was expected there to preach. "We'll wait here and _bait the parson!_" they cried, settling at once who should pull him off his horse, and who should set the dogs upon him.