and held it over his head. He shrieked: 'Hic hocus pocus,'
parodying the '_Hoc corpus meum_' of the Mass. The soldiers of the
Duke of Norfolk were unable to reach him for the crowd. There were but
ten of them, under a captain, set to guard the little postern in the
side wall of the garden. Towards ten o'clock the Mayor of London came
by land. He had with him all his brotherhood with their horses and
armed guards in a long train. The mayor and his aldermen had entrance
into the palace, but the Duke had given orders that men and horses
must bide in the park. There were forty battles of them, each of one
hundred men.

The great body came in sight, white, shining even in the grey among
the trees along the long garden wall.

'Body of God,' the captain said, 'there shall be broken crowns.' He
bade his men hold their pikes across, and paced unconcernedly up and
down before the door.

The City men came down in a solid body, and at sight of the red
crosses on their white shoulders the Lutherans set up a cry of 'Rome,
Rome.' Their stones began to fly at once, and, because they pressed so
closely in, the City bowmen had no room to string their bows. The
citizens struck out with their silvered staves, but the heavy armour
under their white surcoats hindered them. The Lutherans cried out
that the Kingdom of God was come on earth because a Queen from Cleves
was at hand.

An alderman's charger was struck by a stone. It broke loose and
crashed all foaming and furious through a tripe stall on which a
preacher was perched to hold forth. The riot began then. All in among
the winter trees the City men in their white and silver were fighting
with the Lutherans in their grey frieze. The citizens' hearts were
enraged because their famous Dominican preacher had been seized by the
Archbishop and spirited into Kent. They cried to each other to avenge
Dr. Latter on these lowsels.

Men struck out at all and sundry. A woman, covered to the face in a
fur hood and riding a grey mule, was hit on the arm by the
quarterstaff of a Protestant butcher from the Crays, because she wore
a crucifix round her neck. She covered her face and shrieked
lamentably. A man in green at the mule's head, on the other side,
sprang like a wild cat under the beast's neck. His face blazed white,
his teeth shone like a dog's, he screamed and struck his dagger
through the butcher's throat.

His motions were those of a mad beast; he stabbed the mule in the
shoulder to