Page 37 of Echo in the Wind

She and Cornelia found seats on one end of a bench just as the proceedings were getting underway. The others on the bench were all women, save for one young man. From their anxious faces, she thought they might be the family of the accused.

On one side of the court, to their right, the judge sat on an elevated platform, his high seat reminding all of his authority. His white wig of curls hung long to his shoulders, and his face was round and his cheeks reddened. Over his ponderous girth, he wore a black robe and white bands.

Beneath the judge’s raised platform was a long table with bewigged men in black robes. “Those are the barristers who will argue the case,” whispered Cornelia. Clearly, these men were not in awe of the proceedings as she was. They shuffled through papers and flipped pages of open books, occasionally commenting to each other about something or other.

The twelve men of the jury were in a closed off section on the floor below the gallery where Joanna and Cornelia sat. Joanna could look down upon their heads. The jurymen wore gentlemen’s clothing, which did not surprise her, for she knew they had to meet a property qualification in order to serve. All would be from the middling ranks of society, unlike most of those whose guilt or innocence they decided.

Facing the judge in an elevated box stood the prisoner, a man of middle years. His brown coat and black waistcoat were not so neat as those worn by the jury and his shirt appeared soiled. But then, like other prisoners awaiting trial, he would most likely have been in Newgate for months. His dark hair was loose and fell just short of his shoulders. With his hands gripping the edge of the railing in front of him, he looked anxiously about the large courtroom. Whatever charge he faced, it must be grave.

With a word from the judge, a clerk at the end of the counsel table stood and began to read from a paper.

“The prisoner, one John Shelley, is accused of disturbing of the peace of our Lord the King on the nineteenth of November last. With firearms and other weapons, including bludgeons, a blunderbuss, a pistol and a sword called a cutlass, he did unlawfully, riotously and feloniously assault officers of the king. He and ten other persons took away three hundred pounds weight of tea, being unaccustomed goods liable to pay duties, and which duties had not been paid.”

“A smuggling case!” Cornelia exclaimed in a whisper to Joanna. At the mention of “unaccustomed goods” Joanna had known the nature of the case they were to hear. Her stomach was already tied in knots at the thought of what lay ahead.

The clerk paused and then began again. “The prisoner is charged with another count for forcibly assaulting, hindering, obstructing and opposing said officers.”

Looking up from the paper he held, he asked the accused, “How do you plead?”

The man responded from where he cowered behind the wooden railing. “Not guilty.” By the look on his face, Mr. Shelley well understood he faced the possibility of execution.

A man Cornelia identified as Mr. Wilson, Counsel for the Crown, opened the case. He explained the offense had been made a capital felony and described in some detail what had occurred.

Then a tall bewigged man sprang up from his chair. “’Tis Mr. Garrow, the prisoner’s counsel,” said Cornelia. “I’ve heard he is a very clever barrister.”

Mr. Garrow asked that the witnesses might go out of the court until they were called, which they did.

Mr. Wilson then gave a more detailed description of the crime. He explained the tea had been seized in Apperton and the officers were transporting it in a cart to London. On the way, the prisoner and a group of men attacked them, bludgeoning one of the king’s officers.

William Fillery, a witness, was called and sworn, taking the stand at the opposite end of the room facing the jury. Joanna looked directly at the slight man dressed in well-fitting clothes.

The courtroom grew quiet as Mr. Silvester, identified as one of the prosecutors, rose to question the witness. He asked about the man’s identity and his purpose on the day of the crime.

“I am an officer of the Excise,” Mr. Fillery explained. “I went with the other officers to a place called Apperton, at the sign of the Fox and Goose. Our purpose was to seize some smuggled tea.”

“When you came there what did you find?”

“We looked into the outbuildings. In one of them we found twelve bags of tea hidden beneath some boards.”

The judge leaned over his desk. “Were they all in the same sort of packages?”

Mr. Fillery said, “All in similar packages, yes. A paper bag, a canvas bag, an oilskin bag and a sailcloth bag sewed up. But they were different sorts of tea.”

Mr. Silvester asked, “How far is Apperton from London?”

“About seven miles and a half. We had hired a cart for the purpose. On our way to London we met two men on horseback. One is that gentleman.” He pointed to the prisoner. “He was on horseback and turned to look at us.”

“Was anything said?”

“Not a word,” replied Mr. Fillery. “We proceeded on farther till we came to Broad Street in St. Giles. I was walking along the pavement when somebody knocked me down.”

At this point, the courtroom erupted in chaos and loud protests sounded from the jury, appalled at what they had heard. Joanna had known juries frequently expressed their opinion of the proceedings but to witness such an outburst given the crime at issue made her uncomfortable. She suspected the further testimony would only tell a worse tale.

The women sitting on the bench next to Joanna nervously twisted their handkerchiefs in their hands. Looking at them, she felt a sudden dread for the fate of the prisoner, a fate that could one day be her own and that of her brother and Zack.

When order was restored, the witness continued. “I tried to get up but somebody knocked me down again. When I finally got up, I leaned against a post. I saw the prisoner among the group of people, fifteen or twenty.”

“Had he anything in his hand?”