The mob, if they thought at all, thought otherwise. Although, we are told, the utmost harmony prevailed at the festive board, and the company dispersed without the least disturbance, they found a considerable number of the populace assembled in the neighbourhood of Temple Row, evidently bent on mischief. The crowd remained in the vicinity of the hotel, their numbers gradually increasing, for a couple of hours after Captain Keir and his friends had left. Whether the people expected Priestley to be of the company, and fancied he was being detained in the hotel on account of their threatening attitude, is uncertain. As a matter of fact he had not been at the dinner. Suddenly the cry of “Church and King!” was raised, and at that signal every window in the front of the hotel was promptly broken. Thereupon, as if by a common impulse, or if as acting under direction, the crowd swept onwards to the New Meeting, where Priestley preached; this they assailed, we are told, with incredible fury. The New Meeting was erected in 1730: it was described as a considerable pile, “more remarkable for plainness and simplicity than for any uncommon elegance of workmanship or superb style of decoration. The vestry contained a valuable collection of books for the use of the Society which assembled there.” The gates and doors were soon burst open, the pews demolished, the cushions and fragments carried out and burnt in front of the building, and at length fire was carried in which consumed it to the outer walls. The mob was now roused to frenzy. Some of the magistrates strove to quell the riot, and even those who had connived at the outrage grew alarmed at the dangerous temper which they had roused. But the infuriated rabble by this time was thoroughly out of control, and no sufficient force was at hand to cope with it. The Old Meeting-House was next demolished with the regularity of workmen employed for the purpose. A party armed with crow-bars, bludgeons, etc., tore down the pulpit, pews and galleries, and burnt them in the burying-ground, afterwards setting fire to the body of the Meeting-house. The cry of “Church and King!” was again raised, and the rioters marched in a body to Fair Hill, about a mile from the town, where Priestley resided. His house was described by Aikin as “a most comfortable and pleasing retreat.” “Although,” we are told, “it belonged to a gentleman who was deservedly a favourite of the poor, yet because it was the dwelling of Dr Priestley it was doomed to destruction,” and was “attacked with the most savage and determined fury.” Priestley, when the news was brought to him by his friend, Samuel Ryland, of the destruction of the Meeting-Houses and of the impending attack on Fair Hill, was playing backgammon with his wife, as was his custom after supper. He could hardly be persuaded of the danger in which he stood, and it was with difficulty that Ryland hurried him and Mrs Priestley into the chaise which was waiting at the door.