No better was the treatment of Daniel Wastfield, who, being sent for by the mayor, appeared before him, and alderman Vickris; then the mayor said to him, ‘Wastfield, come hither;’ and he thereupon drawing near, the mayor asked him three several times, ‘What art thou?’ Though he knew him well enough, having called him by his name as above said. Wastfield answered, ‘I am a man.’ ‘But what’s thy name?’ said the mayor. ‘My name is Daniel Wastfield,’ answered he. Then said the mayor to one of his officers, ‘Take him and carry him to Newgate;’ further adding, that he came thither to contemn justice: to which Wastfield replied, ‘No, I came hither in obedience to thy order;’ for the mayor had sent for him, as hath been said. Thus he was carried away without a mittimus, the mayor saying his word was a mittimus; and he was kept a close prisoner thirty-three days, and none suffered to come to him but his servants, notwithstanding he was a widower, and must now leave his house and trade to their management; and a child of his died in the meanwhile, and was buried, and he kept from seeing it. The magistrates having thus begun persecution, became from time to time more vigorous in it, insomuch, that several others were imprisoned, and among these Christopher Birkhead, who, standing still in Nicholas’ steeple-house, with his hat on, and being asked by the priest, Ralph Farmer, what he stood there for; answered, ‘I stand in obedience to the righteous law of God in my conscience; I have neither offended the law of God, nor of the nation. A wonderful and horrible thing is committed in the land.’ More he would have spoken, but was stopped with beating and thrusting, and so carried to prison.