Page 38 of Echo in the Wind

“I cannot say; the people that were with him had sticks. He might have had one, but I cannot say. Three of them tried to take my weapon from me.”

“What weapon had you?”

“A small cutlass. Two men took hold of the blade and swore if I did not give it to them they would shoot me. One of the men, who held a blunderbuss, said, ‘Damn your eyes, take care, or I will blow your brains out.’”

“How were these men armed?”

“All with sticks, good sized walking sticks with knobs on them. They snapped the blunderbuss, but it did not fire. I made an attempt to strike at the man with my cutlass, but several of them prevented me. Then they beat me.”

The jury broke out in loud cries of anger at hearing this, their feelings made clear to all. One raised his fist in the air, shouting, “He beat an Excise Officer!”

The women sitting on the bench covered their mouths with their hands. The young man pressed his face into the shoulder of the woman sitting next to him.

Joanna, too, was grieved at the actions of the smugglers and wondered what they could have been thinking to have attacked the revenue officers.

The judge slammed his gavel down, restoring order.

Mr. Fillery proceeded to speak. “Somebody struck at me with a stick, but he missed me and hit the doorpost of the house where I had run to. I had not been in the house more than a minute when three men with their sticks took the cart and horse. They beat the horse.”

Again, the jury went wild. Most of them owned horses, Joanna was sure. The idea of beating a defenseless horse repulsed Joanna, too, especially since horses at The Harrows were pampered.

Cornelia must have had the same reaction as she squeezed Joanna’s hand, whispering, “Oh, my.”

The witness continued. “There was a great mob, a hundred or more all shouting as they drove the cart up the street and into Bloomsbury Square.”

When the witness paused to draw breath, Mr. Silvester asked him, “What happened next?”

Joanna was sitting on the edge of the bench, straining to hear.

“At the end of Dyot Street, I heard somebody cry, ‘Let him go, let him go!’ and I saw one John Cook with the prisoner in his arms. I jumped up and told the prisoner if he did not go quietly, I would run him through with my cutlass. He struggled a good deal, but there were many people who came and assisted us so we were able to take him.”

The questioning proceeded, the witness being asked about what he saw of the prisoner, which it seemed, was not much, having initially been hit from behind. It sickened Joanna hearing it. Cornelia still held Joanna’s hand. Tension permeated the court.

Joanna swallowed hard, suppressing an urge to scream. There was no need for such horrible treatment of the officers and the horse merely to recover smuggled tea. Guilt overwhelmed her until she reminded herself that she and her men never carried weapons and would not use force to regain seized goods. She would have been relieved to get away.

The next witness, Thomas Buckland, a short man with a stout body, was called and sworn. Mr. Wilson questioned him.

“I am an officer in the Excise,” said Mr. Buckland, his cheeks red under his wiry fair hair. “I was with the last witness and went to Apperton with him and the other officers. We seized twelve bags of tea and made our way toward London. The prisoner passed us on horseback.”

“Are you sure it was the same man?”

“Yes. There was another with him. As we came near the Excise Office, a large mob met us.”

The judge interjected, “Had they anything in their hands?”

“Bludgeons, sir. I saw nothing but bludgeons. They attacked us and I defended myself as best I could. I lost sight of the horse and cart and my comrades but, as soon as I could, I went in pursuit of them, and the goods were retaken.”

Mr. Garrow cross-examined. “How far were you behind the cart at the time you were attacked?”

Joanna was struck by the barrister’s elegant, soft-spoken manner.

“I was close to it,” the witness said. “The greatest part of the mob was before me.”

“You could see distinctly, I take it?”

The witness nodded. “There was a great mob I could see from all quarters.”

“What sort of bludgeons did they carry?” Mr. Garrow asked thoughtfully.