chopper they hurried on to riot in the rector's garden or break up the farmer's machine.
The contrast between the tremendous energy displayed by the Government, and the extreme feebleness of the unhappy rioters, was suggestive of the great gulf between rich and poor. Neither had the least idea of each other's real power. The greatest general England has ever had was sent down into the disturbed districts to support the Judges in the special assize held during December 1830.
Three hundred prisoners, many of them convicts expecting sentence of death, lay in the gaol at Winchester. We are not told if the old cathedral city muffled its joy-bells on that unhappy Christmas morn, most probably with our characteristic indifference to sentiment they pealed forth the conventional—
"Peace and goodwill, goodwill and peace,
Peace and goodwill to all mankind."
Anyhow the Judges did not forget to go to church nor to omit their lugubrious sermons to the men they condemned to death.
When on the 30th of the month the Court, met, the jury-box and the dock were filled with convicted felons. The three judges in scarlet robes, supported by Field Marshal the Duke of Wellington, proceeded to condemn these poor rustics according to the cruel English law. They were brought up in batches of twenty at a time, and every one had sentence of death recorded against them. Six were actually sentenced to suffer on the gallows, twenty were transported for life, the remainder for periods varying according to judicial discretion.
The real nature of the crimes committed was shown by the youth of some of the offenders. In another part of the country a child of fourteen had sentence of death recorded against him; and two brothers, one twenty, the other nineteen, William and Henry Packman, were ruthlessly hanged on Penenden Heath on the 24th, whither they were escorted by a regiment of Scotch Greys. At the sight of the gallows one exclaimed to the other, "That looks an awful thing." "Brother," said the eldest, "let us shake hands before we die." The younger refused at first to have the cap drawn over his eyes, saying he wished to see the people as he died. Poor heart, he knew well where there was sympathy, and expected strength from the sight.
