Consequently, one morning they gathered together in great numbers, mounted on asses, and with drawn swords began to patrol the city.
At the same time, the lower classes, who were nearly all Catholics, joined the burlesque patrols in complaining loudly of the dragoons, some saying that their horses had trampled on their children, and others that they had frightened their wives.
The Protestants contradicted them, both parties grew angry, swords were half drawn, when the municipal authorities came on the scene, and instead of apprehending the ringleaders, forbade the dragoons to patrol the town any more, ordering them in future to do nothing more than send twenty men every day to mount guard at the episcopal palace and to undertake no other duty except at the express request of the Town Council.

Although it was expected that the dragoons would revolt against such a humiliation, they submitted, which was a great disappointment to the cebets, who had been longing for a chance to indulge in new outrages.

For all that, the Catholics did not consider themselves beaten; they felt sure of being able to find some other way of driving their quarry to bay.
Sunday, the 13th of June, arrived.

This day had been selected by the Catholics for a great demonstration.

Towards ten o'clock in the morning, some companies wearing the red tuft, under pretext of going to mass, marched through the city armed and uttering threats.