Hugh kept his counsel. Philomena would have entered with spirit into a debate on this or any other subject. His short speech, designed to shock the self-satisfied officers out of their complacency, could have come directly from her mouth. Such thoughts of Philomena teased him daily.

As Hugh, Selena, and her friend passed on, nodding and smiling, they became aware of a cacophony of noise. The elegant carriages of the gentry turned towards Hyde Park Corner in a bid to discover the source of the excitement. Hugh took his barouche to within a safe distance of the excitement, where he drew the horses to a halt, mindful of the carriage’s cargo of young ladies.

A rowdy mob surrounded a rough wooden platform. Feelings ran high.

“A secret ballot, that’s what we want.”

“And the vote. A vote for all, that’s what we need, not just for the rich. It’s time we had a fair say.”

Workers in coarse jackets and heavy boots, every one of them with a cap on his head, shouted, pushed and shoved, their worn clothes in stark contrast with the elegant uniforms of the nearby soldiers. Over-decorated, expensive young bucks sauntered carelessly around the outside of the crowd, tossing insults.

One of the mob, a red-haired lad of eighteen or so, turned his attention to a foppish youth with a tall hat and tightly cut trousers. “You’re naught but a bunch of toffs and dandies.”

The boy lobbed a stone accurately at the other’s hat. It flew from the dandy’s head and landed nearby in a puddle. “Well, I’ll be damned,” said the dandy, dropping his elegant air to put up his fists and land the ginger lad a facer. The lad was no slouch with his own fists and set about the dandy with a will.

Delighted, others nearby joined in, aiming their fists, sticks and stones at the younger of the gentry around them while less excitable gentlemen stepped back to check that no ladies were in danger.

The young bloods were glad to show off their prowess to the ladies who took the air in the Park. In their enthusiasm, they mistook the ladies’ horrified shrieks for encouragement and the mill grew, until cut heads and bloodied noses were everywhere. Hugh had enjoyed the spectacle at first without feeling the smallest desire to join in, but now matters looked as though they may be getting out of hand.

Leaping down from the barouche, leaving the ladies at a safe distance, Hugh ran to a group of officers that included Major Cornwell, his recent acquaintance. “We must calm them down before there’s real bloodshed.”