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"Frank Owen O'Connell, I arrest you in the Queen's name for inciting peaceable citizens to violence," he called up to the agitator. "Arrest me yerself, Mr. Magistrate Roche," replied O'Connell. Turning to an officer Roche motioned him to seize O'Connell. As the officer pressed forward he was felled by a blow from a heavy stick. In a second the fight was on. The magistrate read the riot-act.
Their officers went before them with links and torches, with a herald to read the riot-act, if necessary.
Her features disordered themselves slightly at times in a surface-smile, but never broke loose from their corners and indulged in the riotous tumult of a laugh, which, I take it, is the mob-law of the features; and propriety the magistrate who reads the riot-act.
Its shrill tones acted like magic on the eager crowd; the raised hands fell in a moment, the little tripping feet stood still, the opening lips closed and the eager tumult was turned into a dead silence. Whoever disobeyed the sound of this little whistle, was certain of punishment. It was as important as the words "Silence, in the king's name!" or the reading of the riot-act.
Some kind of a riot arose, a proclamation was made in the terms of the Riot-Act, and the soldiers firing by order of Justice Gillam, killed five or six on the spot. The justice and one of the soldiers were on the coroner's inquest brought in guilty of wilful murder, and two other soldiers of aiding and abetting therein. With great difficulty the prisoners were saved from the rage of the populace.
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