After the assize, Colonel Kirby and some other justices were very uneasy with my being at Lancaster; for I had galled them sore at my trials there, and they laboured much to get me removed to some remote place. Colonel Kirby threatened I should be sent far enough, and sometimes said, I should be sent beyond sea. About six weeks after the assizes, they got an order from the king and council to remove me from Lancaster; and with it they brought a letter from the Earl of Anglesea, wherein was written, “that if those things were found true against me, which I was charged withal, I deserved no clemency or mercy:” yet the greatest matter they had against me was, because I could not disobey the command of Christ, and swear. When they had prepared for my removal, the under-sheriff and the head-sheriff’s man, with some bailiffs, came and fetched me out of the castle, when I was so weak with lying in that cold, wet, and smoky prison, that I could hardly go or stand. They had me into the jailer’s house, where were William Kirby, a justice, and several others, and they called for wine to give me. I told them, “I would have none of their wine.” Then they cried, “Bring out the horses.” I desired them first to show me their order, or a copy of it, if they intended to remove me; but they would show me none but their swords. I told them, “there was no sentence passed upon me, nor was I premunired, that I knew of; and therefore I was not made the king’s prisoner, but was the sheriff’s; for they and all the country knew, that I was not fully heard at the last assize, nor suffered to show the errors that were in the indictment, which were sufficient to quash it, though they had kept me from one assize to another, to the end they might try me. But they all knew, there was no sentence of premunire passed upon me; and therefore not being the king’s prisoner, but the sheriff’s, I desired to see their order.” Instead of showing me their order, they haled me out, and lifted me upon one of the sheriff’s horses. When I was on horseback in the street, the town’s-people being gathered to gaze upon me, I told the officers, I had received neither Christianity, civility, nor humanity, from them. They hurried me away about fourteen miles to BENTHAM, though I was so very weak, I was hardly able to sit on horseback; and my clothes smelt so of smoke, that they were loathsome to myself. The wicked jailer, one Hunter, a young fellow, would come behind, and give the horse a lash with his whip, and make him skip, and leap; so that I being weak, had difficulty to sit him; and then he would come and look me in the face, and say, “How do you, Mr. Fox?” I told him, “it was not civil in him to do so.” The Lord cut him off soon after.