A few days before Andrews quitted the mayoralty the Guildhall was the scene of one of those trials for which it is historically famous. On the 24th October (1649) John Lilburne was brought to trial for spreading seditious pamphlets. Parliament had shown every disposition to conciliate this impracticable reformer, but all its efforts had been futile. "Tell your masters from me," said he to a friend who visited him in the Tower, "that if it were possible for me now to choose, I had rather choose to live seven years under old King Charles’s government (notwithstanding their beheading him as a tyrant for it) when it was at the worst before this parliament, than live one year under their present government that now rule; nay, let me tell you, if they go on with that tyranny they are in, they will make Prince Charles have friends enow not only to cry him up, but also really to fight for him to bring him into his father’s throne."(972) His trial was at length forced on parliament by the injudicious publication of a pamphlet(973) calculated to excite discontent in the army, and a mutiny broke out in the garrison at Oxford so soon after the issue of this pamphlet that it was justly thought to have occasioned the outbreak. The country became flooded with seditious pamphlets to such an extent that an Act was passed for their suppression and for the better regulation of printing. The civic authorities and the Stationers’ Company were especially admonished to see the provisions of the Act carried out.(974) What brought matters to a climax was the discovery that the Levellers were entering upon negotiations with Prince Charles, and thereupon the House resolved (11 Sept.) that Lilburne’s trial should at once be proceeded with.(975) A special commission of Oyer and Terminer, presided over by Andrews, the outgoing Lord Mayor, and including the Recorder, the Common Sergeant and nine aldermen, was opened at the Guildhall on Wednesday, the 24th October. The trial lasted three days. Lilburne made a spirited defence, winding up with a solemn peroration in which he invoked God Almighty to guide and direct the jury "to do that which is just, and for His glory." His words sent a thrill of enthusiasm through the crowded hall, the audience with "an extraordinary great hum" giving vent to cries of "Amen! Amen!" in such a manner that Skippon, who was in attendance, deemed it advisable to send for more troops in case of disturbance. When in the end a verdict of acquittal was brought in, a wild scene followed. "The whole multitude in the hall, for joy of the prisoner’s acquittal, gave such a loud and unanimous shout as is believed was never heard in Guildhall, which lasted for about half an hour without intermission." The judges turned pale from fear, but the prisoner at the bar, so far from displaying any excess of joy, remained unmoved and silent, and "rather more sad in his countenance than he was before."(976)