Sal hoped that would calm everyone, but it made no difference, she saw with despair. People began to rush for the doors. Sal kept her eyes on the Slaughterhouse mob. They stayed where they were, looking pleased at the panic they had caused.
Sal saw a fleeing woman stumble into Mungo Landsman. He staggered, then punched her face. Blood spurted from her nose. Jarge then hit Mungo. In no time half a dozen people were fighting.
Sal would have liked to floor some of these troublemakers but she resisted the temptation. Where was Sheriff Doye? A moment after this question occurred to her, she saw Doye entering by the far door. Why had he gone out? The answer came a second later: he was followed in by Will Riddick and the militia. The soldiers, plus Constable Davidson, started breaking up the fights, arresting men, tying them up and making them lie on the floor. Seeing this, most of the brawlers forgot their grievances and fled.
Sal said: ‘I’m going to make sure they arrest those ruffians from the Slaughterhouse.’ She walked determinedly towards the soldiers.
Will Riddick stood in her way. ‘Keep out of this, Sal Clitheroe,’ he said. With a mean grin he added: ‘I don’t want you to get hurt.’
Sal said: ‘As you were outside the building you can’t know who started this, but I can tell you.’
‘Save it for the justices,’ said Riddick.
‘But you are a justice. Don’t you want to know?’
‘I’m busy. Get out of my way.’
Sal began to make a mental note of all those arrested. Some were from the Slaughterhouse mob, but others were their victims. Jarge was among them.
Riddick made them all stand up. They were tied together and marched out. Sal and Midwinter followed. They went to the Kingsbridge Jail, just across the street from the Assembly Rooms. The prisoners were received by Gil Gilmore, the jailer. As they disappeared into the darkness of the prison, Sal said to Riddick: ‘You’d better see that all those you’ve arrested are brought before the justices. Make sure none are released for reasons of favouritism.’
Sal could tell from Riddick’s expression that he was planning exactly that. ‘Don’t you worry,’ he said airily.
Midwinter said: ‘Evidence of bias on your part would undermine the prosecution of them all, wouldn’t it?’
‘Just leave the law to me, pastor. You concentrate on the theology.’
*
The justices gathered on Monday morning in the anteroom next to the council chamber. Hornbeam was pleased that the second meeting of the Socratic Society had turned into a brawl – as he had planned – but he did not rest. He had spent Sunday preparing for the trial, laying the groundwork for conviction and harsh sentences.
All jurors were men aged between twenty-one and seventy whoowned property in Kingsbridge worth at least forty shillings a year rent. Men in this group were also entitled to vote, and the rule was called the Forty Shilling Franchise. They constituted the ruling elite of the town, and in general they were not slow to find workers guilty.
It was the sheriff’s duty to empanel the jury, and he was supposed to select men randomly. However, some of those eligible were unreliable, in Hornbeam’s view, so he had had a word with Doye and told him to exclude Methodists and other nonconformists, who might sympathize with people trying to hold a discussion group. Doye had agreed without demur.
Hornbeam was only disappointed that Spade had not been arrested.
Alderman Drinkwater was the chairman of justices, and he would preside. Hornbeam feared Drinkwater would be lenient, but hoped Will Riddick might compensate for Drinkwater’s indulgence.
While the justices waited for the accused to be brought from the jail, Hornbeam was readingThe Times, pretending to be relaxed. ‘The royalists have been defeated in France – again,’ he said. ‘I know nothing about this young general, Napoleon Bonaparte. Has anyone heard of him?’
‘Not I,’ said Drinkwater, adjusting his wig in a looking-glass.
‘Nor me,’ said Riddick, who did not read the papers much.
‘He sounds like the very devil,’ Hornbeam went on. ‘He deployed forty cannons on the streets of Paris and wiped out the royalists with grapeshot, it says here. Carried on even after his horse was shot from under him.’
Drinkwater said: ‘I don’t like to hear of men being shot with cannons. To me it seems ungentlemanly. Battle should be man to man, pistol to pistol, sword to sword.’
‘Maybe so,’ said Hornbeam. ‘All the same, I wish General Bonaparte was on our side.’
The clerk looked in and said the court was ready.
‘Very good, tell them to be silent,’ said Drinkwater.
The three justices entered the courtroom and took their seats.
The room was full. There were a dozen defendants, numerous witnesses, and all their families and friends, plus others who came simply because it was a big event in town. To one side, the jury sat on benches. Everyone else was standing.
