The leaders passed from place to place endeavoring to enforce order in this vast assemblage of men animated by such contrasting sentiments, but scarcely had they turned their backs ere the confusion was renewed. At last they succeeded in forming four main bodies, which, taking different ways, crossed the Thames upon three bridges,--Westminster, Blackfriars, and London Bridge. [Illustration] At the head of this last column marched Reuben Marsham, whose fine, menacing face, flashing eyes, and floating yellow locks attracted universal attention, especially among the women. Men bore before him several banners upon which was emblazoned the legend, "No popery!" Behind came a silent phalanx of fanatical sectarians, who ordered their marching-step to the slow measures of a religious chant. The crowd followed in clamorous disorder, struggling with a thousand emotions, like a tempestuous flood-tide sweeping between the walls of the narrow streets. From the windows and the thresholds of the shops a curious, amused, but perfectly peaceful horde of people watched the progress of the procession. Here and there a philosopher or practical man would shrug his shoulders, murmuring, "Fanatics!" or, "Still another working day wasted!" But the majority sympathized with the object of the expedition, and saluted the passage of the manifesto with answering cries of "No popery!" No effort was made to interfere with the proceedings; not a red-coat nor an officer of police appeared. What could all the watchmen in London--those timid, innocent watchmen--have availed against such a multitude, even though they had been united in one solid troop? As for the soldiers, they were only called out as a last resort. Reuben crossed Ludgate Hill without obstacle, went up Fleet Street, and, having passed through old Temple Bar, entered the Strand. As a river receives its affluents, the column constantly grew larger through the human currents which joined it from the north and swept into it from the side-streets. In front of houses where well-known Catholics dwelt the procession would pause while, amidst groans and cries of execration from the crowd, men slashed the doors with a chalk-mark, which designated the places for approaching vengeance. Having followed the Strand to its end, traversed Charing Cross, and passed through Whitehall, the procession spread over Westminster Place, which, despite its somewhat confined dimensions and the buildings which obstructed it, nevertheless offered a favorable stamping-ground for such popular displays. The other bodies had already arrived at the rendezvous, and being united formed an immense, compact mass which nothing could resist. The crowd, proud of its power, gave voice to a long acclamation, above which isolated voices were heard, and which caused every window in Westminster to rattle.