by Derek Wilson
So the government wrote to the recalcitrant Bishop Bonner of London against whom they were also proceeding at this time. (Within weeks he was deprived of his see and thrust into the Tower.)
The uprising in Norfolk was as ideologically distinct from that in Devon and Cornwall as the counties involved were geographically distant from each other. The rebels there were at one with the Protector’s evangelical programme. Their initiative began, like other peasant protests, as a holy mission for the redress of economic grievances. As people were caught up in the fervour of the cause it took on the character of a bold, irresistible movement. At the last it disintegrated into blood-lusting mob rule devoid of any ethical raison d’être. It began on Monday 8 July at Wymondham, ten miles south-west of Norwich. A crowd who had gathered for a religious feast day found themselves listening to self-appointed agitators demanding to know why, a year after the announcement of commissions to enquire into enclosures, nothing had been done. Buoyed up by the enthusiastic response of the audience, the agitators turned words into actions, leading their followers in an assault on the estates of landowners in the area. Personal feuds mingled with issues of principle to produce several hours of uncontrolled hedge-ripping. This might have exhausted itself when the perpetrators grew tired and hungry and began to drift back to their homes had it not been for the emergence of a charismatic leader. Robert Kett was a man of modest means but he was a gentleman by birth and someone to whom the lower orders listened with respect. He inspired them to believe that if they were resolute and organized they could make an impact on government policy.
Kett led his rapidly growing band towards Norwich, which was then the second city of England in terms of population and mercantile wealth. As they went they continued their onslaught on the offensive boundaries of field and meadow. The local gentry, overawed by the size and temper of the crowd, melted away before them. One prominent landowner who tried to defend his property was pulled from his horse and came within an ace of being clubbed to death. Another was threatened with having his house burned down, the insurgents eventually contenting themselves with the destruction of his dovecotes. The march came to a halt at Mousehold Heath opposite the north wall of the city. Here Kett established his camp and from here he calmly took control of the region as the king’s deputy! So effective had Somerset’s propaganda been that Kett and his followers could really believe that they were carrying out government policy and that this gave them unlimited powers. Kett began to issue impressive-sounding edicts, such as
We, the King’s friends and deputies, do grant licence to all men to provide and bring into the camp at Mousehold all manner of cattle and provision of victuals, in what place soever they may find the same . . . commanding all persons as they tender the King’s honour and royal majesty and the relief of the commonwealth to be obedient to us the governors . . .27
When news reached the Protector he first fell back on the tactic that had worked elsewhere. He despatched York Herald to parley with the rebels, assuring them that their grievances would be considered and offering them a free pardon. Kett was having none of this. Pardons were only granted to wrongdoers, he flung back at the royal spokesman. Since they were assembled to carry out the declared will of their sovereign it did not apply to them. This provoked the action which proved to be the turning point of the Norfolk Rising. The herald proclaimed Kett a traitor and tried to arrest him. He ended up fleeing for his life to the safety of the city. The next day (22 July) the rebels overran a large part of Norwich. The die was now cast. Confronting positions had been taken up. The outcome would be bloody. The only question was how bloody.
Somerset could not allow such defiance to go unchallenged. He was forced, against his will, into a military response. Since he could not leave the capital himself and since some of his generals were already involved in putting down the western rebellion, it would have seemed obvious to entrust the government’s armed response to England’s most talented and experienced field officer. Yet, instead of Dudley he chose William Parr, Marquess of Northampton, a man with virtually no campaign experience but a faithful adherent. Somerset may have underestimated the opposition. Yet it is difficult not to read into his passing over of Dudley some other motive. He had picked up the Westminster rumours that named Dudley as the most effective champion in any challenge to his own authority. It might be very dangerous to make him a present of a formidable mini-army. So, Northampton marched to Norwich through the intense late July heat. His orders were to avoid unnecessary bloodshed by blockading the city and forcing the rebels to surrender but this proved impossible because Kett had withdrawn to Mousehold Heath where he now commanded some 16,000 rebels (including noncombatants). Any competent tactician would have deployed his men in open ground and brought the enemy to battle on his own terms. What Northampton did was lead his men into the city to the rapturous welcome of the terrified people. He thus threw away the advantage his well-trained troops gave him and ensured that they would be tangled up in the narrow streets and confined riverside meadows if and when Kett’s superior force decided to attack. The king’s men did not have to wait long. The rebels made a sortie during the small hours of 1 August and a more determined assault a few hours later. The hand-to-hand fighting was fierce in conditions which made the rebels’ makeshift weapons as effective as the swords and lances of their opponents. In the melee Northampton lost several of his best men, including his second-in-command, Lord Sheffield. He could make no impression on the enemy, who simply came against him in wave after wave. After many hours of ineffective conflict he put an end to the carnage by ordering a retreat and regrouping his men to the south of Norwich. Turning back he could see the smoke and flames rising from several fires started deliberately by Kett’s vengeful host. Then he put spurs to his horse and headed south.
For Somerset this humiliation was the last in a series of disasters. His brother’s treason, the abandonment of his Scottish campaign, the widespread unrest, treasonable risings launched by both Catholic and Protestant malcontents, Henri II’s declaration of war, the news that Exeter was under siege and now the Norwich fiasco, all these events played into the hands of his critics. Yet, like a gambler who throws good money after bad in the frantic hope that his luck will change, the Protector refused to abandon his policies. The immediate priority was the military one. Both rebel movements must be suppressed before disaffection gave rise to widespread anarchy. Even Somerset must have now realized that the restoration of law and order would have to be accompanied by retribution against the traitors and that his own reputation among the people might not survive the sight of their heroes’ bodies hanging from gibbets and church towers. They would believe that his promises were empty; that their champion had gone over to the side of their oppressors. However, there was no time for such sombre reflection. On 7 August he accepted the inevitable and wrote to John Dudley ordering him to crush the Norfolk Rebellion.
The earl received his instructions two days later. At dawn on 10 August he sat at his desk to pen a weary reply to a letter he had just received from Cecil.
. . . seeing how we stand with the French, open war seems better than coloured friendship. I wish we had no more to deal with; as it is we must trust in the Lord. With your letter I received a commission to lead the counties of Cambridge, Bedford, Huntingdon, Northampton, Norfolk and Suffolk, for which I am bound to [the Protector] and Council but wish they might allow the Marquess of Northampton to continue in his commission or, at least, have it renewed. He has lately had enough misfortune and this might discourage him forever. I shall be glad to serve with or under him. No one should be discarded for one mischance, which may happen to us all. Explain this to [the Protector] and write again. In the meantime I will make these counties ready.28
William Parr, Marquess of Northampton, was a friend and Dudley must have known that he had received the rough edge of Somerset’s tongue for his incompetence (perhaps Cecil’s letter had contained the news). His magnanimity in pleading for Northampton was ba
sed on his experience of military command. He knew that the best way of handling an officer crushed by his own sense of failure was to show confidence by giving him a new job. This was one of many lessons the self-obsessed Edward Seymour had never learned.
Dudley’s confrontation with the Norfolk rebels was brief and effective. On 23 August he arrived in the region of Mousehold Heath with 7,500 troops and with Northampton thankfully occupying the position of second-in-command. He immediately had a meeting with Kett and offered pardon in return for immediate dispersal of the host. This was refused and Dudley responded by encircling the rebel camp. On 24 August, a little after dark, he led an infantry attack on the city, broke through the flimsy defences, engaged the occupying force in street fighting and, within hours, had expelled them, though not before the enemy had captured and carried off some of his artillery. The swift execution of all prisoners gave warning to Kett and his followers that continued resistance could only have dire consequences. Having cut the Mousehold supply lines from the city and the surrounding country, Dudley waited for the enemy to make a move. Kett’s superior force occupied the high ground of the Heath but would be unable to last out long without supplies. Behind them was a stretch of marshland. They were effectively trapped. Dudley’s men, by contrast, were well victualled and he was expecting reinforcements in the shape of 1,400 German mercenaries.
What was obvious to Dudley was less so to the citizenry who, not unreasonably, feared a repetition of the fate that had overtaken them when Northampton had tried to hold Norwich. Their leaders came to the commander-in-chief, begging him to remove his troops to open ground and deal with the rebels at a safe distance from their homes. It was a difficult moment for Dudley. If he did not win over the townsmen it was conceivable that they would try to appease Kett by betraying Norwich to him. He decided on a dramatic, chivalric gesture. Summoning the city elders and all his captains, he told them that he had no intention of retiring. ‘I will first suffer fire, sword, finally all extremity,’ he said, ‘before I will bring such a stain of infamy and shame either on myself or you.’ Then, turning to his officers, he bade them ‘kiss one another’s swords, making the sign of the holy cross’ and swear a solemn oath not to desert Norwich until they had ‘utterly banished the enemy or else, fighting manfully, had bestowed their lives cheerfully for the King’s majesty.’29 Once again he had demonstrated the charisma and the understanding of men that makes a great leader. After this the resolve of the people held firm, though Kett launched a series of attacks in a desperate attempt to regain the city. When they failed, he knew that his only hope lay in forcing Dudley into an open battle and trusting in his greater numbers to carry the day. During the night of 26 August he moved his men down to lower ground. The place was called Dussindale.
Dudley gave the rebels no time to complete their preparations. At first light he led his cavalry out to Dussindale. He was confronted by rows of makeshift defences. The rebels had been toiling all night by the light of camp fires, digging ditches, throwing up earthworks and setting up lines of pointed stakes as a deterrent to the cavalry. They had arranged the captured artillery in what they thought to be strategic positions, though whether they had the expertise necessary to fire their pieces effectively is doubtful. But Kett had one other encumbrance to put in the path of the formidable foe preparing to storm his position. Over the previous month his men had taken several prisoners gentlemen, burgesses and servants who had remained loyal to their masters. Having prominent local figures in their power had reinforced their bitterness towards their social superiors and encouraged them to make sweeping demands, summarized in a twenty-nine-point manifesto which went far beyond the issue of enclosures. This document was an expression of class hatred which would have stripped major landowners and clergy of most of their authority and economic power. Kett now made a dramatic demonstration of his contempt for the leaders of shire society by bringing the prisoners to the battlefield, chaining them together and placing them in front of their defensive position.
If we seek a psychological moment which moved Dudley from being an unhappy but loyal supporter of Somerset to an active agent for regime change this may have been it. The fellow Englishmen he was being asked to hack down were facing him in their ramshackle, pseudo-military redoubt because of the Protector’s ill-conceived policies. He had no great enthusiasm for the work he was called upon to do that day and his first action on arriving at the battlefield was to send a herald with a repeated offer of pardon to all except the ringleaders. Only when this was scorned did he send his professional warriors crashing through the enemy barricades. For the peasant soldiers, many of whom had never seen war, the thundering charge of several hundred landsknects must have been a terrifying sight. Their ranks broke at the first onslaught. After that the ‘battle’ was no more than a rout. At one point some of the rebel leaders managed to rally a contingent of their men from the scene of bloody panic and gathered them together for a last-ditch stand. Seeing this, Dudley called a halt to the action. He sent the herald once more with an offer of pardon to all who would yield themselves to the royal mercy. The peasants, understandably, thought this was a trick. To reassure them the general rode forth in person and gave his word for their safety. The remnant of Kett’s army threw down their weapons. The Norfolk Rebellion was over. At Dussindale there fell some 250 of the king’s men. The losses on the other side were ten times greater. No one ever made a careful count.
Dudley was true to his word: most members of Kett’s mob were spared. The prime movers had to suffer. They were traitors who had risen against lawful authority and committed acts of pillage, wanton destruction and murder. It was necessary for justice to be done and to be seen to be done. Dudley ordered the traditional punishment for treason but the number of those who perished in the aftermath of battle is, again, not known. However many it was, the executions did not satisfy the burgers of Norwich. They had seen their houses burned, their business premises ransacked, their families terrorized and they wanted vengeance. Dudley refused to assuage their bloodlust. To their demand for more deaths he replied,
‘There must be measure kept and, above all things, in punishment men must not exceed.’ He knew [he said] their wickedness to be such as deserved to be grievously punished and with the severest judgement that might be. But how far would [the townsmen] go? Will they ever show themselves discontented and never pleased? Would they have no place for humble petition; none for pardon and mercy? Would they be ploughmen themselves and harrow their own land?30
Yet, whatever disappointment this may have caused the more rabid members of the Norfolk establishment, it did not spoil the overwhelming sense of relief and rejoicing in the city and its environs. On 29 August Dudley and his captains went in procession to the church of St Peter Mancroft for a service of thanksgiving. For the remainder of their stay they were feted by the wealthier inhabitants and the ‘triumph’ of Dussindale was marked in perpetuity by the anniversary being declared a public holiday and by Warwick’s arms being displayed alongside the royal insignia on the city gates.
One member of Dudley’s family had particular cause to be pleased with the brief campaign and its outcome. The earl had been accompanied by his three older sons, John, Ambrose and Robert. On their approach to Norwich the royal army camped one night on the estate of Sir John Robsart of Stanfield Hall, a relative by marriage of Robert Kett but certainly no supporter of his. Robsart was, in fact, one of the prominent gentlemen of the shire; only recently he had served a term as Sheriff of Norfolk and Suffolk. He conceived it to be his duty to speed the royal force on their way and he received the senior officers as his guests. Among those who catered for their needs was their host’s seventeen-year-old daughter, Amy. Robert, more extrovert than his brothers, was immediately smitten by her and she was more than ready to be swept off her feet by the dashing cavalryman in his plumed helmet and part armour. The Robsarts and their relatives, the Flowerdews and Appleyards, were among those involved in the celebrations and the more sombre
task of administering justice in the aftermath of the rising. There was, then, opportunity for the young people to become better acquainted. Whether their fathers set in hand the necessary financial arrangements then or later, Robert and Amy were married the following summer. John Dudley could have arranged to ally all his children to the leading families of the realm in order to build up a strong network, but this, it seems, was not a preoccupation of his, a further indication that the traditional assessment of him as a power-hungry schemer is wide of the mark. Robert, at least, was allowed to follow the dictates of his heart.
The alliance with an influential Norfolk family did little for Dudley at a national level but it was not without its political significance. As a reward for suppressing the rebellion he received some of the confiscated Howard lands in the county. He subsequently saw Robert established as an important member of the land-owning class in north Norfolk. Perhaps in the long term he envisaged the Dudleys assuming the eminence vacated by the Howards. In the event it was his failure to secure a following in East Anglia that proved his undoing. He may have been the saviour of the Norfolk gentry but the events of August 1549 left a bitter memory for many lesser folk. Dussindale was not and could not have been the end of mutual ill-feeling in the county between landlords and tenants. For months the authorities were having to deal with seditious preachers, unruly gangs and loudmouthed critics who railed against the gentry when they had a few jugs of ale inside them. In the fullness of time John Dudley would inherit the legacy of this ill will.