The marshal, anticipating another attack the day following, applied to the magistrates for assistance, as shown in the foregoing. On the 10th of May, a larger mob assembled, repeating the cry of “Wilkes and Liberty;” whereupon the magistrates began to expostulate with them. The Riot Act was then read, and its intentions endeavoured to be explained. The rabble hissed and hooted the soldiers, who endeavoured to scatter them. At last, a stone struck Justice Gillam, and he ordered the firing, though, as far as could be proved, there existed no absolute necessity for this extreme measure. Gillam, who was exhibited to ridicule as “Midas, the Surrey justice,” appears to have been most unpopular, if not altogether unfit for the responsible position in which he was placed; “the note sent to a bookseller by a magistrate” is attributed to this hero: “Sir, Send me the ax Re Latin to a Gustus of Pease.” On his trial, James Derbyshire, a bookseller, deposed that Mr. Gillam said publicly in the hearing of the soldiers, “_that his orders from the ministry were, that some men must be killed, and that it were better to kill five and twenty to-day than one hundred to-morrow_.” According to the Rev. John Horne (afterwards Tooke, and known to fame as the “Brentford Parson”), who was present at the riot, it was he who procured the warrant for the arrest of the soldiers. The trial did not take place until the 9th of August. Witnesses appeared against Donald Maclury, who was charged with firing the fatal shot; it was Maclury (or M’Laury) who said “Damn him, that’s him, shoot him.” Mr. Allen’s ostler declared that when Allen fell, after the prisoner had fired, Maclury said, “Damn it, it is a good shot.” On his way to gaol, the day after the murder, it was proved Maclury acknowledged “that what they had done was in consequence of orders, and he hoped they should obtain mercy.” The defence was that MacLaughlin, a grenadier, acknowledged to Mr. Gillam and six soldiers that it was he who shot Allen, and _that his piece went off by accident_. He had since deserted, and, it was openly stated in the papers, received one shilling a day to keep out of the way. The verdict was “not guilty;” and it was admitted that, in order to save the life of the soldier, who was liable for murder, it had “been found necessary to suffer the prosecutors to persist in their mistake in apprehending and impeaching an innocent man, and in the mean time giving the grenadier who actually fired the gun an opportunity to escape.” Both soldiers were charged at the King’s Bench, when, by arrangement, the guilty man was admitted to bail, to be smuggled out of harm’s way; “the other was remanded back to prison as the person who actually shot the lad,” according to the proceedings, May 16, 1768.