“And before the setting forward of these men, the Duke sent a herald into Rochester, with the Queen’s proclamation, that all such as would desist their purpose should have frank and free pardon; who came upon the bridge, and would have gone through into the city, but they that kept the bridge would not suffer him, till that the captain came, who at last granted the same to be read in the city. But the same being ended, each man cried they had done nothing whereof they should need any pardon, and that quarrel which they took, they would die and live in it. Nevertheless, at the last, Sir George Harper received the pardon outwardly, and being received under the Duke of Norfolk’s protection, came on forward against the Kentish men; and even as the company was set in a readiness, and marched forward toward the bridge, the said Bret being captain of the five hundred Londoners, of which the more part were in the forward, turned himself about, and drawing his sword said by report these or much like words. ‘Masters, we go about to fight against our native countrymen of England and our friends, in a quarrel unrightful and partly wicked, for they, considering the great and manifold miseries which are like to fall upon us if we shall be under the rule of the proud Spaniards or strangers, are here assembled to make resistance against the coming in of him or his favourers.’” Then followed the usual highly coloured description of the state of slavery to which England was to be reduced by the Queen’s marriage, a picture that had been so often held up before the people by de Noailles, that it was no wonder if they had come to believe in the reality of the horrors portrayed. “’Wherefore,’ continued Brett, ‘I and these (meaning by them such as were in that rank with him) will spend our blood in the quarrel of this worthy captain, master Wyatt, and other gentlemen here assembled.’ Which words once pronounced, each man turned their ordnance against their fellow. The Londoners thereupon cried ‘a Wyatt! a Wyatt!’ of which sudden noise, the duke, the earl of Ormond and the captain of the guard, being abashed, fled forthwith. Immediately came in master Wyatt and his company, on horseback, rushing in amongst them, saying as well to the guard, Londoners, as to all the rest. ‘So many as will come and tarry with us shall be welcome; and so many as will depart, good leave have they.’ And so all the Londoners, part of the guard, and more than three parts of the retinue went into the camp of the Kentishmen, where they still remain. At this discomfiture, the Duke lost eight pieces of brass, with all other munition and ordnance, and himself with the earl of Ormond, and Jerningham and others fled to London. Ye should have seen some of the guard come home, their coats turned, all ruined, without arrows or string in their bow, or sword, in a very strange wise; which discomfiture, like as it was a heartsore, and very displeasing to