After our arrest we were taken to the police-station in Bridewell Place, and thence to the Guildhall, where Alderman Figgins was sitting, before whom we duly appeared, while in the back of the court waited what an official described as “a regular waggon-load of bail.”  We were quickly released, the preliminary investigation being fixed for ten days later—­April 17th.  At the close of the day the magistrate released us on our own recognisances, without bail; and it was so fully seen on all sides that we were fighting for a principle that no bail was asked for during the various stages of the trial.  Two days later we were committed for trial at the Central Criminal Court, but Mr. Bradlaugh moved for a writ of certiorari to remove the trial to the Court of Queen’s Bench; Lord Chief Justice Cockburn said he would grant the writ if “upon looking at it (the book), we think its object is the legitimate one of promoting knowledge on a matter of human interest,” but not if the science were only a cover for impurity, and he directed that copies of the book should be handed in for perusal by himself and Mr. Justice Mellor.  Having read the book they granted the writ.

The trial commenced on June 18th before the Lord Chief Justice of England and a special jury, Sir Hardinge Giffard, the Solicitor-General of the Tory Government, leading against us, and we defending ourselves.  The Lord Chief Justice “summed up strongly for an acquittal,” as a morning paper said; he declared that “a more ill-advised and more injudicious proceeding in the way of a prosecution was probably never brought into a court of justice,” and described us as “two enthusiasts who have been actuated by a desire to do good in a particular department of society.”  He then went on to a splendid statement of the law of population, and ended by praising our straightforwardness and asserting Knowlton’s honesty of intention.  Every one in court thought that we had won our case, but they had not taken into account the religious and political hatred against us and the presence on the jury of such men as Mr. Walter, of the Times.  After an hour and thirty-five minutes of delay the verdict was a compromise:  “We are unanimously of opinion that the book in question is calculated to deprave public morals, but at the same time we entirely exonerate the defendants from any corrupt motive in publishing it.”  The Lord Chief Justice looked troubled, and said that he should have to translate the verdict into one of guilty, and on that some of the jury turned to leave the box, it having been agreed—­we heard later from one of them—­that if the verdict were not accepted in that form they should retire again, as six of the jury were against convicting us; but the foreman, who was bitterly hostile, jumped at the chance of snatching a conviction, and none of those in our favour had the courage to contradict him on the spur of the moment, so the foreman’s “Guilty” passed, and the judge set us free, on Mr. Bradlaugh’s recognisances to come up for judgment that day week.