CHAPTER V
Mile End
"Falseness and Guile have reigned too long, And Truth hath been set under a lock, And Falseness and Guile reigneth in every stock. No man may Truth come to, But if he sing 'si dedero.' True Love is away that was so good, And clerks for wealth work them woe. God do bote, for now is time."
These were the peasants from Saint Catherine's Hill that clamoredbeneath the walls of the Tower in the dawn of the Friday morning.Stephen looked out on them from a window above the gate and was'minded of the waters of the sea, how they lapped about the cliffs ofDevon.
"John Ball greeteth you all,"
sang the men,--
"And doth for to understand he hath rung your bell. Now Might and Right, Will and Skill, God speede every dele!"
Some of them were drunken, others white and wild for lack of sleep.Ragged they were, armed with mallets, cudgels, cruel knives. A-manyhad the long bow which all the English must practise to twang; butthere was dearth of arrows, and not all the bows were strung. Of allthese the men of Kent were best armed and most seemly clad, and theyhad arisen to right their brothers' wrong, and to make known that allmen should be free.
"When Adam delved and Eve span, Who was then the gentleman?"
they sang; and then because they saw Stephen at the window, they beganto cry out to bid the King come to his people. Now the King stoodbehind Stephen in the shadow.
"If old Archbishop Simon is to scape," quoth he, musing, "now 's time,the while the people is drawn away hither. Go, one, to the Archbishop,and bid him try the stairs and the water-gate, if so be he may flee ina little boat."
"The King!--The King!" cried the mob. "Let us in! John Ball hathrungen your bell!"
Stephen leaned out of window and made a sign with his hand that theyshould cease, and after a little their clamour had sunk to murmuringsand he could be heard.
"Ye shall withdraw to Mile End," Stephen shouted. "Thither will theKing come to parley with you. And I make no doubt he shall grantwhatsoever ye shall ask in reason."
Then began the tumult anew:--
"Mile End!--Mile End, to meet the King!" they cried, and there was asurging this way and that; for some would go at once to themeeting-place, others strove to come nigher the walls of the Tower.
"Let us in!--Let us in!" roared these last. "'T is a trap to cheat uso' Sudbury. Mile End, forsooth!--Nay, we 'll parley within the Tower."
"Tell them there is no room in the Tower for so great a multitude,"said Richard, "wherefore I choose Mile End.--Tell them"--He pausedand turned to a page who came in, "Well, didst give the message?"
"Yea, sire; the Archbishop is even now gone down to the water-gate."
"Tell them," Richard took up the word anew, "the Tower is theirs tosearch and to hold after I shall go forth of it to-day. They may enterif they will. But I will not parley with them only at Mile End."
All this Stephen cried out of window, and presently there began to bea fraying away on the edges of the mob, as a cloud frays.
"Let us go and make ready," said Richard; his eyes were very bright,he held his head high.
But when he had kissed his mother, and dried her tears, and had badesaddle the horses,--and his half-brothers, Kent and Sir John Holland,were fidgeting, pale, for that he would have them ride withhim,--suddenly came into the hall Simon Sudbury, with yellow sweatbeading on his brow.
"How now!" cried the King; "methought thou wert scaped by the river?"
"The watch on the hill hath keen eyes, sire. We put forth, but theyraised a cry. Was naught for 't but to turn back."
"But thou must begone!--I say thou must!" Richard exclaimed, stampinghis foot. "Christ!--I 've said they may come in and search!" Then hewent and caught Simon by the shoulders, and his lip quivered:--
"As regarding that poll-tax, thou wert a fool, my lord,--a fool!--afool! But thou art a faithful servant, and a true man,--and I lovethee!"
His voice broke, and he hid his face in the Archbishop's breast.
"Sire," said Simon gently, and put both arms about his king as 't werehis own son; "do not grieve! I know a way to baffle them. Go thou toMile End, and leave me here to play my part."
"Thou wilt surely scape?" Richard questioned.
"Yea,--I shall surely scape."
Then they went together into the chapel and prayed awhile; and whenthe King was going out at the door, he looked back to see where theArchbishop stood at the altar making ready the sacrifice of the Mass.John Leg knelt on the steps and Robert Hales,--and there was a certainfriar, a friend of John of Gaunt, who served at the Mass.
So Richard rode forth of the Tower, and 't was a Friday in themorning,--and with him Etienne Fitzwarine, and Thomas of Woodstockthat was Earl of Buckingham, and old Salisbury, and others,--earls andgentlemen,--and also Sir John Holland and the Earl of Kent, the King'shalf-brothers; but these, for fear, set spur to horse and departedfrom the company into the fields.
Meanwhile, in the fields about Mile End the folk came together, a manythousand, with their leaders. Long Will also was there, and Calote.London prentices played at ball the while they waited; country loutssang and cuffed one another; cooks went about crying "Hot pies, hot!"There was a bearward with his beast, making merry. And in the midstof this babel, John Ball and Wat Tyler and Jack Straw were silent. Thepriest had set his back against a tree, and so stood with folded armsand sunken chin, his eyes gazing out to a vision. Wat paced up anddown, restless; anon he lifted his head uncertain, and stood lookingdown by the way the King must come; anon he gnawed his lip and strodeon. Jack Straw, squatting among the roots of a yew, watched thoseothers and bit his finger-nails.
"And what will ye do when the King cometh?" asked Long Will of thethree.
John Ball did not hear him, or if he did, he made no sign. Jack leeredup at Wat, and Wat stood still.
"How may a man know what he will do till the time come?" he saiduneasily.
Will lifted his eyebrows. Jack Straw hacked at the yew tree root withhis great knife. Wat walked slow past John Ball and back again toWill, and here he came to pause.
"We shall make certain demands," he explained in a voice as he wereassuring himself,--"we shall make certain demands. 'T is wherefore weare here."
He shifted from right foot to left.
"And if the King grant all?" quoth Will.
"Richard 's tongue-tied," sneered Jack Straw.--"No fear!"
"And do not ye desire that he shall grant these requests?" askedCalote.
"Whether the King grant them or no, we shall take them," snarled JackStraw. "Are we not here to take them? What is the will of a weaklingboy in face of thousands?"
"Wat," Calote said, tugging at his sleeve, "what is 't thou 'rt mindedto do to the King? He is anointed of High God. Oh, Wat, what is 'tthou hast in thy heart to do this day?"
"Pshaw!" he groaned, jerking his arm away and clapping both hands tohis ears,--"I know not!--I know not! How shall I know till the timecome? Leave me in peace!"
And then there came a cloud of dust along the highway, and in themidst of it King Richard, Etienne his squire, and Salisbury, and thoseothers.
When the people saw it they went mad with joy.
"Hath come!--Hath come!" they cried, capering and clipping andkissing. "He is our King, come out to his own people!" And then therewent up such shouts as rent the air and could be heard far as Londonwall. Jack Straw got to his feet and stuck his knife in his belt. 'Twould seem the shouting of the people made him dizzy, he staggered. Itwas a wondrous compelling sound, this cry of joy of ten thousandhearts set at rest. The King had come to them. He belonged to hispeople.
John Ball and Wat Tyler came and stood with Jack beneath the yew tree,the people surging all about.
"Fools!" muttered Wat.
"Thou fool!" Jack whispered twixt chattering teeth.
"I told thee, truth is better than strategy," said John Ba
ll. "I wouldhave apprised the Fellowship our purpose to take him."
Hardly was he heard for the clamour. In the beginning there were onlyshouts, but after a little there began to be disparted from the wavesof sound, words: "Long live the King!--Long live the King!--Long livethe King!"--The blessing roared like as 't were a torrent. Calotecould see how Jack Straw and Wat spoke one to other, for that theirlips moved,--but what they said was lost. They were very white andtheir hands hanging down helpless. This joy that beat about them, theymight not escape from it, and it smothered them.
"How might I tell them?" gasped Wat,--"the maid hath preached love andloyaute.--Is 't loyaute to take him against his will?"
"Wherefore, against his will?" said Jack.
Richard, in the midst of this rapture, laughed wistfully, with armsoutspread as to embrace his people, and when they saw this they criedout anew: "God save the King!--Long live the King!--Long live theKing!"--And those that were nigh kissed his stirrups and hissaddlecloth.
"Mes amis!" he said, and they that saw his lips move began to beatupon that tumult with: "Peace!--Peace!--The King speaks!--Peace!" tillthe shouting died as the wind drops, and but for a solitary voice castup fitful now and again, there was stillness.
"What will ye?" Richard cried. "I am here. I have taken Reason andConscience to be my counsellors:--
'And Reason shall reckon with you if I reign anywhile, And judge you by this day as ye have deserved.'"
And when they had heard the words of Long Will's Vision, they laughed,and not a few wept for joy.
"Persuade him that he come to us," whispered John Ball.
"Do thou," Wat retorted, uneasy. "Thou hast a softer tongue and morelearning. Cursed be these fools!"
"Let one speak!" said the King, "and say what the people will have."
There was pause, rustle, a craning of necks to see.
Jack Straw shook as with an ague fit. Wat Tyler started uncertain,looked at John Ball, and drew back.
"Speak thou!" said the priest, low. "I am under ban of HolyChurch,--his guardians will not hear me patiently."
There began to be a murmur: "Speak!--Speak!" and it waxed louder.
"I 'm a rough man; Jack, thou 'rt the crafty one,--oil thy tongue topersuasion."
"If I speak now, wilt thou be silent hereafter?" asked Jack. "Art thouleader--or"--
"Thou false hound!" said Wat.
"Where is Wat Tyler?--Where is John Ball?" cried the people; and themuttering began to be a roar. "Speak!--Speak!--To be free!--Speak!"
"Rather fall on those others and carry him off to our midst!" Watexclaimed, fingering his knife and breathing quick.
John Ball caught his arm.
The throng swayed, and Richard's horse reared.
Then out of the press strode Will Langland, the maker of the VisionConcerning Piers Ploughman.
"Sire!" he said, and his voice was heard so far that the muttering andthe swaying ceased,--"sire, we ask three gifts of thy grace; and thefirst gift is to be free men. No longer villeins and serfs, but free;no longer bound to the soil, but free to go and come, to marry ourdaughters to whom we will, to grind our corn at our own mill,--to befree! The High God, Emperor of heaven, when he set our father Adamupon this earth, who was this man's master?"
Richard turned his head to look on the Earl of Salisbury:--
"Thy will is our will, sire," said the old man.
And immediately the King stood up in his stirrups, and:--
"Yea,--we will set each other free," he cried. "Lo, I strike off yourfetters, and I too am free!"
For a space of a minute there was silence, awe; and then the cry,hoarse, shaken twixt wonder and terror. Then silence came again,white-lipped, and there were a-many fainted in their brothers' arms.And that was a long silence.
"Speak!" said Richard huskily to Long Will. "Here 's one gracegranted,--name other two."
"That we may pay a rent henceforth for the land whereto we were boundaforetime. We are not thieves, neither would we be lollers,--we behonest men desirous to till the land. Four pence the acre is the ratewe would pay."
"Ay, ay, four pence!" cried a score of men.
"'T is folly!" whispered Thomas of Woodstock and the Earl of Warwickangrily. "'T cannot be done! Fools!--So paltry price is ruinous!"
"Natheless, let it stand, my lords, and patience," said Salisbury. "Aprice may well be changed.--Now, 't is wise to grant all. If thepeople sees that we dissuade the King, hardly shall we escape alive.God knows I be not afeared o' death, but I would serve the King thebest way,--and 't is not by dying."
"Four pence the acre," said Richard; "this also do I grant."
"And the third grace, O King," said Long Will;--"the third is pardon!"And he went down on his knees, and immediately all that multitude felldown, and some on their faces, crying, "Pardon!"--"Pardon for JohnBall!--Pardon!--Pardon!--For Wat Tyler!--For all!--For all!"
"It shall be written that ye are pardoned," said Richard. "It shall bewritten that ye are free!"
And then they came leaping about him, weeping, singing, blessing; andhe sat in their midst with tears rolling down his face.
"It shall be written!" they cried; "it shall be written!--Bringclerks!" And presently there were set down some thirty clerks, andWill Langland among them, a-scribbling. And so they were busied twohours and more in that place.
Stephen came and leaned on Will's shoulder, and, "Eh, well, my father,what th-think'st thou?" he asked, exultant.
Will stayed not his hand, but with head bent above the parchment hesaid: "Methinks Parliament will have somewhat to say of this matter.Kings of England may not bind and loose at their own pleasure; though't is the people that ask. Here 's a riddle."
"But thou?"--Stephen faltered.
"I spake for the people."--Then he turned to a ploughman, with, "Here,brother, is thy parchment. Keep it dry, and pray God it may serve theein time of need. Where is Wat Tyler?"
"He went to the Tower an hour past; said he had business therein."
Now the King gave also of his own banners, to each county a banner,that the men when they returned to their villages might be known to beKing's men on the highway, and no rioters. And a-many, so soon as theyhad their pardon and parchment of freedom, went back to their ownhome;--and this was what Salisbury desired. Nevertheless, the mostpart of the people abode where they were, and when the King set out toreturn to the city, they were with him, singing and shouting, and hein their midst. But when they were come to Aldgate and turned into theway that led to the Tower, there rode to meet them a soldier of theTower, that said:--
"Sire, we have taken madame your mother to Barnard Castle Ward, andthe Garde Robe, hard by Paul's Church. Will it please you go thither.The Tower is taken and no longer safe."
"No longer safe?" laughed Richard. "How now!"
"Sire," said the soldier, "the people have slain the Archbishop ofCanterbury, and set up his head on London Bridge."
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