Faced with the countercharging Jerome Bonaparte, the unarmed workers were momentarily at a loss, and the leader of the Charter Faction responsible for organizing the "petition" was even more helpless, shouting loudly.
Jerome Bonaparte swiftly rushed toward a worker, transforming his staff into a sword and thrusting it toward the stomach of the worker directly in front of him.
The worker struck by the Blackthorn Staff let out a painful groan, and the fists that should have been clenched had to loosen to clutch his stomach, curling up and clearly losing the will to fight.
Following behind Jerome Bonaparte, George John also knocked down a worker.
Jerome couldn’t help but view this young man with new eyes.
Even though they faced workers who were barely surviving, defeating them easily was not a simple task.
"Not bad, young man!" Jerome Bonaparte encouraged George John with the tone of someone experienced, while also dodging an incoming assault.
"Thank you!" George John absentmindedly smiled.
Taking advantage of George John’s distraction, a nearby worker quickly grabbed one of his arms holding the staff.
Seeing this, George John promptly kicked hard at the worker’s calf, causing intense pain that momentarily distracted the worker and weakened his grip.
Seizing the opportunity, George John broke free from the worker’s grasp and used his staff to strike viciously at the worker’s head, causing the worker to collapse to the ground with a severe head injury.
Within less than half a minute, the workers’ group had already lost three people, severely undermining their morale, causing those with wavering resolve to retreat from the "battlefield."
On the other hand, the vigilantes and formally structured police, "encouraged" by Jerome Bonaparte and George John, experienced a surge in morale. They discovered that although this group far outnumbered them, their physical condition and organization were far inferior, making them completely beatable.
"Sarge, let’s go!" one of the officers spoke up at the scene.
The chubby officer weighed the pros and cons of launching an attack.
If he could suppress this mob before reinforcements arrived, he would undoubtedly be the hero who quelled the unrest, making a promotion and wealth just around the corner.
Thinking about his career prospects linked to this rabble, the chubby sergeant decisively ordered: "Everyone switch to nightsticks, if you don’t have one, use a staff! We must suppress this riot!"
The so-called nightsticks were solid wooden clubs made of white oak imported from America, painted black to appear more intimidating. This type of wood is commonly used for railway ties, indicating its hardness, capable of leaving red marks on the human body.
The vigilantes’ equipment, besides various firearms, also included handheld weapons such as staffs and short solid wooden clubs.
More than a dozen officially certified officers wielding white oak nightsticks charged into the workers’ group like tigers, relentlessly attacking the workers in the first row.
The inexperienced workers could only retreat under pressure, their line of defense showing signs of collapse.
The remaining dozens of vigilantes, also armed with various weapons, charged to the front to battle the workers.
As time went on, more and more unarmed workers were beaten black and blue, with only a few managing to seize weapons from the vigilantes to fight back.
However, this still couldn’t change the reversal of the battle situation, and the workers retreated while fighting from St. Martin’s Church all the way to London Bridge.
The group of over 200 was reduced to about 150.
"Put your backs into it! We’re almost victorious!" The supervising chubby sergeant waved a flag and cheered, an unconcealable joy on his face.
Just a little more! Just a little more, and these wretches will be driven back to the slums!
The chubby sergeant was already envisioning himself being received by the Minister of Internal Affairs, becoming the deputy head of the Metropolitan Police District, and maybe even head one day.
[According to the 1829 Urban Police Law formulated by Minister of Internal Affairs Pier, a metropolitan police force encompassing Westminster, Middlesex County, Surrey County, and Kent County was established, directly led by the Minister of Internal Affairs, the prototype of the modern police system.]
Reality, however, dealt the chubby sergeant a heavy blow. A brigade wielding hammers, long sticks, and short knives was running along the riverside of West London towards them!
"Our team! Our team is here!" exclaimed the leader of the struggling Charter Faction workers’ movement.
The demoralized workers quickly revitalized, rallying together in small groups; one would block a wave of attacks from the vigilantes with his hands, while another seized the opportunity to grab a vigilante’s arm.
The police force’s morale weakened once more, and the chubby sergeant wanted to escape.
No, we must capture their leader!
In the crowd, Jerome Bonaparte swung his staff fiercely while shouting to the police, "Come over here, some of you!"
Three official officers and three vigilantes moved towards Jerome Bonaparte.
Jerome Bonaparte swung the Blackthorn Staff fiercely at a worker’s leg, causing the off-balance worker to fall to the ground.
"Quick! Clear a path for me; I need to capture the leader!" Jerome Bonaparte held the staff in his right hand and drew a revolver from his waist with his left hand.
The approaching workers stopped in their tracks, and Jerome Bonaparte quickly fired a shot in the air.
The gunshot froze everyone on site for a moment, and Jerome seized the opportunity to knock down another worker.
The policemen and vigilantes following him immediately followed Jerome Bonaparte’s lead, charging forward.
Jerome Bonaparte and his group, having cleared a path through the crowd, found themselves in front of the "workers’ movement" leader.
With his left hand holding the gun and right hand gripping the staff, Jerome pointed the gun at the leader’s chest, while George John grabbed the leader’s arm, preventing escape.
The other officers pulled out muskets and revolvers, aiming at the workers.
"Everyone! If you don’t want him to die, then stop!" Jerome Bonaparte shouted, his words filled with menace.
Being dragged into becoming a vigilante had infuriated Jerome Bonaparte, as he did not want to partake in this meaningless battle.
Upon hearing Jerome Bonaparte’s words, the workers ceased their actions.
"Clear a path!" Jerome pressed the revolver against the leader’s back and instructed the workers.
The workers, with their backbone captured, spontaneously cleared a path, the battered police and vigilantes enclosing Jerome Bonaparte and George John in a circle breaking through the encirclement.