Three weeks after, the seven bishops were summoned before the Privy Council, to answer a charge of high misdemeanour, and were committed to the Tower. They were conveyed from Whitehall by water, and were followed by the tears and prayers of thousands. Both banks of the Thames were lined with multitudes, who fell on their knees, beseeching God to protect the sufferers for religion and liberty. The very soldiers in the Tower acted as mourners; and even the Nonconformists, who had felt all the bitterness of Episcopal persecution, sent a deputation of ten of their ministers to wait upon, and condole with the prisoners. Twenty-eight peers were ready to bail them; and messages were brought over from Holland, assuring them of the sympathy of the Prince and Princess of Orange. A week later, on the 15th of June, they were brought before the King’s Bench, by a writ of habeas corpus. An immense concourse of people received them on the bank of the river, and followed them to Westminster Hall, the greater part falling upon their knees, wishing them happiness, and asking their blessing. Within the court, the bishops found the peers who offered to be their sureties, and a crowd of gentlemen attached to their interests. They were charged with a seditious libel. They pleaded “Not Guilty.” The trial was then postponed for a fortnight. At the expiration of that time, the bishops again entered Westminster Hall, surrounded by lords and gentlemen, and followed by prayers and blessings. The trial began at nine o’clock in the morning. At seven in the evening, the jury retired to consider their verdict, and were locked up all night. At nine next morning, they returned the verdict “Not Guilty.” The noblemen, gentlemen, and people within the court raised a loud huzza. This was echoed back by a louder huzza from those without. As the bishops passed to the river side, there was a lane of people, all on their knees, to beg their benediction. Sixty earls and lords were present, joining in the jubilations of the people. At night London was lighted from end to end with blazing bonfires, all the church bells were ringing, and the Pope was burned in effigy before the windows of the royal palace. The excitement was amazing. James’s popish and despotic reign was doomed. The royally-applauded atrocities of Judge Jeffreys, which made the land a shambles, and turned the law itself into the bloodiest of tyrannies, awoke only groans and muttered curses; but the imprisonment of seven bishops at once brought about a revolution. Meanwhile, in the same month that the trial of the bishops took place, the queen was delivered of a fine healthy boy. The Lord Mayor of London was commanded to provide bonfires and other public rejoicings; but there were no bonfires now except for persecuted bishops, and the alleged birth of a prince, instead of being honoured, was pronounced to be a gross imposture.